Welcome to Gaia! ::

Z closes the door to the room behind him with a satisfied click, today he had not been bullied at all. The plan he'd worked with Dem to execute the other day, it seemed had residual and delightful side effects. And if he were -truly- fortunate that 'nasty cold' might linger and make the next -several- days rather peaceful.

He held up a paper bag of cheep take out and shook it.
"Food" he said simply as the smell of chinese wafted from it. He dropped a news paper on his own desk for later 'projects, there were a few things he was still curious about that he wondered if he couldn't find leads on. But no need to trouble Dem with it yet.

"I got your favorite... And nothing of the extra I ordered has shrimp in it. The one with the mushrooms in it is labeled and you can have the fortune cookies."

He deposited the bag on the floor in the middle of the room and turned to retrieve sodas for them both.

"Nothing" He said with a satisfied tone and offered a soda like a trophy.
"No plans, yesterday's had unexpected fringe benefits, and while it sets back what I had thought about exciting -today- I believe we deserve a day off."

He sat down on the floor leaning against his own bed and popped open the soda and took a long drink waiting to rescue his own food from the bag after Dem was done -ravaging- it.

He took the bag and fished out a rather boring order of 'chicken fingers' and rather more than enough salt which he put in a sort of 'pile' to one side to brush them through rather than salt them directly. One, perhaps, of his odder habits.
He then fished out a plastic knife, and some chop sticks, all the chicken fingers were neatly bisected before he continued the conversation.

"You had something in mind, or did you just want for warned?"

Z picked up a chicken finger with the chopsticks and stabbed it vaguely at the little pile of salt arching a suspicious eyebrow at 'that look'.

"...What -kind- of game?" he asked with deep caution. "Your not trying to play with the tape again are you?" He added leaning back slightly with sudden renewed caution.

Z scowled at the word 'afraid' like one might a noisy child in the theater from around a mouthful of chicken and shook his head.

"Of course not!" He finally answered. "But really Truth or Dare? That's so..." he trailed off and tapped the top of his soda. "...grade school" he finally pronounced like a sentence for a criminal.

"But no, I am absolutely not 'afraid' of a game"

"I am -not- afraid!" he said indignantly, straitening rather like an offended rooster.
"Fine! We'll play the game! Afraid... god..." he huffed. "Not like you just told me to go a round of fisticuffs with a member of the Football team, afraid, hmph!"
He bit into another chicken finger and -scowled- at Dem for the affront.

"Truth..." he said arching an eyebrow. He didn't quite trust Dem with dares, not yet. He'd have to eventually try one just to see how 'creative' he was but never the less. Better to start on a 'safe' footing.

"Seriously?" Z arched an eyebrow at the question.
He leaned back against the bed and finished a chicken finger, looking around before answering.

"You did very well on the stars, and I assume that's a panda in progress?, Your getting better." he said as succinctly as he could and -hopefully- to the satisfaction of his compatriot.

"Truth or Dare" he added to try and hedge his bets.

"Hmm..." He eyed Demy and leaned back against the bed. Really he -could- use this to try and clear up a few confusions he had about Dem...

Well... if he could think of what to -ask- he could anyhow.

Oh well... basics first.

"Why truth or Dare."