Recycle, reuse, and reduce!

Max was meandering through the hallways, absent-mindedly whistling 'A hard day's night' more or less competently. He yawned, hugely, one eye closing in an odd habit he'd picked up over the years, although not many could see it beneath the tousled mop of shaggy brown-black filaments he called hair.

His left hand went up now to tug inattentively at one some such lock before brushing it back uselessly, still sleepy eyes the color of the sky on a rather foggy day sweeping the halls curiously, resting for an iota of a second on the many recycling posters speckling the walls here and there.

A pair of rather grungy black cargo pants that had looked perfectly presentable in his dresser this morning, but turned out to be riddled with holes of his own making was clothing the lower portion of his anatomy; a pair of lime green sneakers that admittedly wasn't fairing much better then the pants housed his feet, and a faux-faded Pink Floyd hoodie - he, personally, hated it, but had bought the garment anyway because it was the only piece of clothing paying tribute to the band - was doing its cheap cotton best to shield him from the frigid land that was the hallway. He looked, in his opinion, much too stereotypical for his tastes; unfortunately he was too lazy to go back to his dorm to change. Also, he couldn't seem to bring himself to care.

Frigid blue eyes swept over another poster, and he arched an eyebrow, interested as to who was putting all of these up. He rounded a corner at considerably less then breakneck speed, so fascinated with the yellowish walls that he didn't even notice the girl until he was passing her.

He turned, because he had nothing else to do, raising an ample eyebrow yet again at the girl. She did not seem to be the sort that would be responsible for the posters... But, then again, looks could easily be deceiving and all that rubbish. He waited until the girl turned from slapping a piece of tape to a flyer, offering a smile and a half-crinkle of the fingers in a makeshift wave. "One would hope," he announced dryly, examining the newly appointed sheet of paper with something resembling interest, "that you are using recycled paper; otherwise I'm afraid you've put a whole forest out of commission." He was just sleepy enough that everything he said sounded rude, and just awake enough that he knew this. "Not that it isn't a noble cause, of course." He crouched down on his haunches, examining the top flyer with curiosity. "Need any help?"

Max shook his head, stopped the tall stack of paper from falling over with one foot, flipped the tape into the air with one foot, and caught it in one hand with a raise of the eyebrow at the thought. "Can't say that I have..." He replied breezily, snapping off a small section of tape and stooping to pick up a poster boldly screaming 'Save the planet! We've only got one!' to easily slap onto the opposing wall. "Or that I ever want or plan to."

He let go of the paper, the tape unsticking and floating to the ground. "How many people're putting up these things?" He turned, realized the poster was on the ground, and ripped off another section of tape from the roll he had around his wrist. "From the looks of the halls back there" - he waved vaguely back where he'd come from - "I'd say an army."

"Impressive." Max raised an eyebrow over at her, wondering briefly if he'd insulted her somehow. Ah well...
He flicked another sheet off the top of the pile, sticking it on the other side of the corner from whence he'd come. “You are indeed devoted to the noble cause.”

Max laughed sheepishly at her salute, pushing the hair out of his eyes again. "Hey, I'm sleepy. If I'm not all stiff and proper, than ah'mma start talkin' liake this."

He raised an eyebrow at her as if she'd said something insane, suddenly realizing she was just introducing herself and following suit. "Right. Maxwell - Max." He thought about offering a hand to shake, decided against it, and turning back to the posters. "Nice to meet'cha, Bree."

Max grinned lopsidedly, shrugging and running a hand through his hair. "I must admit, I have been known to tree hug." A pause, and he shrugged again. "It's just... Back home it wasn't even an issue. You walked the dog, you did the dishes - you recycled." He shook his head, glancing down the hall as if it were at fault for all the world's problems. "Not too much of that here, is there?"