El is dropped off by a giant of a freshman at room 222, which has stairs leading down to it for some reason, like it's tucked in a gap in the central gear system that doesn't quite line up with the floor level - it might be, actually. It's weirdly brightly lit, with fully a dozen cheerfully burning wall sconces. They are evenly and symmetrically spaced, so they are all real wall sconces, probably. El finds a seat in the middle and tries not to look at her desk so her schedule will appear.
Lissa nods. "Sounds like it's pretty valuable. That's why people do everything in groups after all, right?"
"It was your opening offer, I didn't exactly haggle you up."
"Needed to be good enough that people would accept before thinking about haggling up. Or my generally weak negotiating position. Not blaming you for taking me up on it, but asking to renegotiate was worth a shot. Might want to buy my way out early if I can scrape up the capital before my indenture's up though."
"Yeah, all right. Lot of running around and you're not really the marathoner genre of Olympian."
"Well, I can run a marathon without dropping dead at the end of it but the modern bar is a bit higher than that. I'm not planning to run out in the middle of my long blocks on Tuesday and Thursday to babysit you, think you can keep yourself alive for three trips a week?"
Snort.
It turns out Bobbie is in fact physically capable of something resembling laughter. Who could've known.
"Are you going to join us for lunch? Or however many lunches you need to bounce back after presumably slimming down for induction?"