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Some time ago for romantic purposes Karkat came into possession of a large holographic video display. He has been nursing an idea for a while, but the weather outside in mock-Scotland has been too grotesque to make it feasible.

Tonight, however, the grotty mist has finally stopped and when Karkat rises with the moon he discovers weather that is almost practically tolerable, especially once he deploys a firepit and spreads a tarp over the damp ground.

He fiddles with the projector a bit, finally managing to project the king-sized screen he wants over the lake. The first romcom he cues up is Pretty Woman, and he grunts with satisfaction as he plops himself into an stuffed husk he hauled down from his room and the familiar opening begins to unfold.

Welcome to the drive-in. The second film in the triple feature will be Grosse Pointe Blank, followed by My Best Friend's Wedding.

[OPEN THREAD! Feel free to use the setting with or without tagging Karkat, he will out here all night marathoning cheesy romantic comedies. Feel free to suggest movies that will follow Pretty Woman, and I will update this post with a list of the ones this cranky sumbitch has approved that people can reference playing.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Autor has only started registering these questions as weird when people in Milliways, uh, freaked out when he asked things like, "I know you usually shoot them, but how best could we go about converting zombies into functional weaponry?"

"Pfft," Autor says, offering him a crooked smile. "Must be difficult for you to retrieve things, then."

He closes his book. "I don't suppose you'll tell me why you made one of these for me? Other than to get me to stop gushing about them?"

Edited 2013-03-10 06:02 (UTC)

He rolls his eyes. "THAT IS PRETTY MUCH ALL THERE IS TO IT, YOU LITERALLY COULD NOT SHUT UP ABOUT HOW GREAT THEY ARE. "

"PLUS NOW YOU HAVE TWO FREE PIECES OF SUPERIOR TECHNOLOGY TO REMIND YOU HOW COMPLETELY OUTCLASSED YOU ARE. IF YOU WANT AN AUTOGRAPH, TO COMMEMORATE WHAT IS PROBABLY FANTASTICAL ACT OF GENEROSITY FROM YOUR PERSPECTIVE, EVEN IF IT WAS COMPLETELY NEGLIGIBLE FROM MINE, I CAN GO AHEAD AND SCRIBBLE MY NAME ON ONE OR BOTH."

"What! And let you profane things of such practical beauty? Never," he says, running his thumb across the cover.

"And does this mean that in order to get what I want from you, all I have to do is flatter? Good to know!"

He rolls his eyes. "NO, THAT IS WHAT YOU NEED TO DO IF YOU WANT ME TO PUKE AN OCEAN OF BILE SO YOU CAN DROWN YOURSELF."

Autor smirks, delighted. "One of these days, I just might try that, to take measure of the vile, viscous fluids which make you up.

"But the point still stands that I was impressed with the sylladex, and you gave it, without my asking or needing to trade some sort of venomous animal sacs for your consumption. Flattery of you may not work, but flattery of your creations? Well. Duly noted, and now I'll shut up about it--after expressing my thanks once more for something so useful."

Karkat more or less chokes, at the remark about taking the measure of his fluids. There is no way Autor could have meant that as obscenely as it comes off, culturally.

He doesn't really blush, properly speaking, but the grey of his face definitely darkens; he can feel the mutant blood burning in his cheeks, and he looks hurriedly away.

He coughs, trying to clear his throat and think of something--anything--to say to that.

Edited 2013-03-10 06:37 (UTC)

Nope, Autor meant that metaphorically. Sorry, Karkat!

Unfortunately for the troll, his reaction has Autor thoroughly intrigued. Was his face...? It was!

Placing the sylladex in his pocket, Autor clasps his hands behind his back and crosses smoothly into Karkat's vision. The blazer-clad music student smiles like a cat in cream, and fixes his gaze on his cheeks.

"Have you swallowed a bug, Karkat?" he asks lightly, leaning forward. "If you're hungry, we could find something to eat, I'm sure."

By the time he gets there, Karkat has decided how to react, which is by going on the offensive.

(The answer is always going on the offensive.)

"NO, I WAS JUST REELING FROM THAT BLATANT FUCKING PROPOSITION, HOLY SHIT. I GUESS QUASI-EROTICA ABOUT COUPLING ON TOP OF A PIANO IS THE SECRET TO DRAWING OUT MOST LEWD AND REPREHENSIBLE KIND OF REMARKS OUT OF YOUR OBSCENITY SQUAWKER. GOOD TO KNOW, I GUESS."

"Wait, what?" Autor says, recalling the bit about the piano and feeling sufficiently horrified. "What are you talking about? What proposit--Oh."

And now it's his turn to choke and blush and cough, in that order and with varying degrees of intensity. Unlike Karkat, he doesn't turn away, but it does take him a few minutes to open his mouth, as his lips are burning.

"I'm sorry," he says softly, staring at the ground, "for my lack of tact."

"LOOK, I, OBVIOUSLY YOU DON'T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT... I MEAN, I AM NOT RETARDED ENOUGH TO THINK THAT YOU WERE LEGITIMATELY TRYING TO... IT'S JUST... MULTICULTURALISM IS HARD," is where he settles finally, with a kind of strangled dignity.

He starts to speak, then stops, then finally comes out with:

"AND, YOU KNOW, I'M NOT SAYING I'M RULING OUT THE IDEA OF... YOU KNOW, SOMEDAY, LIKE IF LATER WE GOT TO KNOW EACH OTHER BETTER, AND REALLY FOUND OUT MUCH THERE WAS, TO, TO HATE..."

Flashbacks of his disastrous first conversation with John Egbert swim over him, and the words sort of choke off. "OR, YOU KNOW, YOUR NAME AT THE BARE MINIMUM."

Edited 2013-03-10 07:13 (UTC)

"I'm Autor," he says quietly. He steps forward without hesitation, holding out his hand. "And I already do hate you as a friend, so, I guess... um. You're right, this is terribly difficult, isn't it? But we'll manage. We're smart."

Then he tilts his chin up a little, smirking. "Well, I'm smart, anyway."

For a scant handful of seconds, Karkat thought about absconding straight through the middle curtain and the fenestrated wall portal hidden behind it, up to Nepeta's cave. But then the tension gives, with Autor's name, and he can breathe again.

Karkat's fangs clamp down on his own black lip, and he growls quietly as he steps forward and briskly shakes Autor's hand, eyes locked (upward) at the other boy. A hearty handshake isn't a traditional black gesture, but Karkat can be multicultural, too. And that smirk is... the smirk deserves something.

He's seen plenty of movies, he knows how it's done; one brisk pump and he stalks away back towards the movie before he can fuck things up.

Following Karkat's flounce with his eyes, Autor can't help but chuckle. Without ceremony, he draws his sylladex out of his pocket and starts rhyming, all the way to the bar.

[OOC: This. Thread.]

[OOC: It was excellent! Thanks!]

heirDrosselmeyer began trolling chirurGeneralist

HD: P.S.
HD: Told you I'd get you to blush

heirDrosselmeyer ceased trolling chirurGeneralist

heirDrosselmeyer signed off.

[OOC: <3]