Fandom High Dormitories

Bruce was declaring his war with the television over. The final battle? Refusing to ever turn it on again. If the television was sentient or cursed or influenced by the island, it would no longer get the satisfaction of messing with Bruce. After all, in the past few months alone, Bruce had been transported to a world full of murderous partygoers under the sea, turned into a mime, turned into a girl, and been made to rap in front of his classmates.

He was trying to take steps towards stability in Fandom to help him justify the amount of time he spent learning and training versus the amount of time he spent dealing with strange crap. While he couldn't control the rest of that without taking control of the machinery of Fandom on a complete and total level, he could simply leave any shenanigans with the television out of his life. After all, not every mystery needed to be solved. It just felt that way very frequently.

And so this morning, Bruce was eating his breakfast (oatmeal) while listening to some music (old jazz standards... Look, he just liked them, okay? So what if he had the musical tastes of somebody's grandfather). It was possible that he shot a few smug glances at the television, reveling in his victory. Possible... but he would never admit to it.

[OOC: Daylight Savings ending means I woke up at 6 on a Sunday. This is wrong. I'm making up for it with a CR post.]