"If you all want me to be able to understand more than every fifth word, I'd rather we speak the lingua franca. ...ironic though that phrase may be."

"Oh, sure, I'm just establishing the character, here, so that in the future I have an in with Tintin."

Fucking. Tintin!!! Literally Tintin!!!!!!!! He has no idea who decided to go with these specific pieces of media to draw hot boys from or what criteria they used but if they're willing to grab Tintin Pete has no hope of knowing all of the canons. He barely knows Tintin as-is, and only because he took French class in high school.

"Your ambitions are entirely too low. I like everyone; there is no need to get an in with me."

"Would it be too crass to say that it's more romantic to flirt in French, I don't actually know whether that's even true when it's one's native language..."

"Christ above, preserve me from anglos. The language of love. Spend one week in Charleroi! It is the language of love, for sure, and it is also the language of elderly racists, and it is the language of women who talk on their cellphones and do not pick up their dog's shit, and it is the language of little boys singing dirty words to the tunes of nursery rhymes - that is to say, it is a language, and people love with it, and they also talk."

This is not said with more than mild irritation - it's certainly a bit of a rant, but he's not very put out to have the chance to rant about it.

He raises his hands in surrender. "Very well, I'll flirt with you in English, then."

"Now, I did not say that. Flirt with me how you like. But find a better excuse."

"How about 'other people around are less likely to understand what we're saying so I can fluster you in public'?" he asks, nodding in Peter's direction. "I suppose Edmund might be made privy to the contents of these conversations but hopefully he is more exception than norm?"

"Mm. Peter and I are both outliers; I soak up languages, and he can barely hold onto his un-deux-trois. I remember when he tried Latin for a year - it was a dark time. But outliers aside, a Valentine student is really expected to be able to hold a conversation in their language of choice, and French is popular."

"I give up, then, I'll just do whatever I want and trust the narrative powers that be to ensure it works out anyway."

"I haven't yet seen you do anything but."

"And speaking of the narrative powers that be I think there are a few more people you need to introduce me to, right? We should probably do that before I slip up and accidentally flirt with your brother in front of you, I'm sure that will be very unpleasant for all parties involved except me."

Also who knows how many more characters he'll meet, he doesn't want to overwhelm the audience when he's sure there'll be a lot more opportunity for one-on-one interaction with each individual here. Especially given that he has Time Enough For Love.

"Sorry?"

"Yes, that sounds like a fantastic idea. Bye Ed, bye Tintin."

Peter introduces him to the other sixteen students in this hall.

While all of them are possessed of the inimitable spark of the divine housed within each and every human being, none of them actually seem particularly relevant.

Yeah, he's getting that impression; no one after Edmund and Tintin really felt right. He wonders if that got elided over with one paragraph, it felt like the kind of time that would've.

Anyway, next on the agenda is a more general tour, he thinks?

Peter shows him around the campus. It seems like a nice enough place, if somewhat overburdened with statuary and gardens named after alumni.

They are hailed across one such garden by a girl with a fairly strong family resemblance to Edmund. "Peter! You have some kind of pixie with you! Introduce us, please, and may I have a picture with you, strange elfin being, before you are cruelly forced into our uniform. That outfit is a delight."

"Oh is that Susan?" Wait shit Peter never actually said Susan's name, only Lucy's and Edmund's. Uh, but surely Peter won't have such a good memory for the exact things he said to remember that he definitely didn't? Well, here's to hoping, Pete is not going to give the game away by acting guilty.

(Also oh my god. Oh my god. Of course she'd be gorgeous, too, there's no way Peter and Edmund are that pretty and Susan wouldn't be no matter how gay this BL may be, but WHY is everyone SO HOT.)

"It's excellent to meet you, I share a first name with your brother but I've been going by Pete! I would love to take a picture with you."

Peter, indeed, just looks mildly confused, not suspicious.

"Oh, he's been telling tales about me, hasn't he - it was all legal in the countries I did it, and that's what counts."

Susan reaches them, withdraws her phone from her skirt pocket, and stretches her arm out for a picture. "Peter, get in here, you awful giant. Get on your knees if you must."

"What d'you want with me in your picture?"

"You're my brother and I love you, idiot. Get in here."

Peter is summarily wrangled, and a picture is taken. Susan shows it around. "I didn't put any filters on it but I think you might be actually sparkling, Pete, that's a talent."

"My skin care routine is unfortunately a secret guarded by the very laws binding the universe, but I could—"

"—oh, I should not finish that sentence."

"Oh, you can't dangle a secret in front of me. Tell me this instant."