Not Good at Nice

Aeryn comes back to her room after Sociology, stopping when she sees something small, thin and red standing up in front of her door.

She attempts to kick it out of her way when she tries to get into her room, but next thing she knows it's drawing a big red C on her arm.

Remembering the announcements, she asks, "What are you grading me on, exactly?"

It twitches a little.

"If you don't know, I'd say I deserve at least a B," she says.

The crayon twitches against her hand, and puts a - next to the C.

"No," Aeryn tells it.

The crayon actually bounces. Another bouncer. Great.

Aeryn glares.

The crayon stops bouncing. After a moment under Aeryn's glare, the crayon puts another mark on Aeryn's arm to read C+.

"Frell you," Aeryn says.

The crayon... looks a little offended. And scratches out the C to write B. The plus is still next to it.

"Was that really so difficult?" asks Aeryn.

The crayon goes about its merry way, as sentient crayons do, and Aeryn locks the door to her room once she's inside. Stupid planet and its stupid crayons.

[I'm home for the afternoon. Entertain me.

ETA: Dear self: saying Sam stopped by is cool. Conversation? NFB. Kthnx.]