(no subject)

[crabbycustomer]

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.]

Comments

Late tag is late. <3

[herr_bookman]

[OOM: Millitimed to post-Karkat thread or play it straight?]

"Well met again, Poins," Autor says, grinning as he gestures to the screen. "Do you happen to know what this miracle of modernity is?"

[poins]

"The troll that put it there hath pronounced it is a play," Poins says, "of light and air -- somehow? What doest thou think?"

[herr_bookman]

"It's interesting!" Autor says. "I'd like to take the mechanism apart, figure out how it works. And the play itself is unlike any I've ever seen; the costumes are complex, the settings may as well be real life, and we're able to see the angles of their faces, and then the there's music produced without a pit and some instruments I've never heard..."

He trails off, and coughs. "Er. What are your thoughts on the matter?"

[poins]

"I would fain watch the play, rather than break the stage," Poins says.

[herr_bookman]

"I could probably put it back together," Autor grouses, "given time."

[poins]

"A time in which the groundlings might fain slay thee," Poins declares.

[herr_bookman]

"You speak the truth, sweet knave," Autor says, nodding, "which means devils must be huddled together for warmth."

He gestures up at the screen, turning his head. "So what do you think of the--" Autor chokes and sputters, and his cheeks burn the color of Julia Robert's lips. "God have mercy! What on earth are they doing to that poor piano!"

Immediately, he whirls around and jams his eyes shut. "I am not too sure I'm interested in this play."

[poins]

"And I am that more certain that I am!" Poins laughs. "Turn thee around, thou fool, and look at that sweet wench!"

[herr_bookman]

"Like hell," Autor snaps. Or, rather, he intends to snap. It's more of a squeak. "Why would they even want to put this sort of a thing on! and in public! It's not art it's... gah!"

To make matters worse, discordant notes jar his grinding teeth. That poor, poor piano.

[poins]

"Tis art!" Poins protests. "Of course 'tis art! All plays are art, and this depicts the love of wenches in a way that make one's humour rise in gladness."

Pause.

"At least, if one is one that is not thee, it seems."

[herr_bookman]

"Very well," Autor says, turning around, but keeping his eyes on Poins' face. "I've seen pictures of other nudes--the statue of David, Greecian myths--but this is... they're moving, and... It might be art? I suppose?"

He folds his arms across his chest, grumbling. "I just can't wrap my head or my phlegmatic humors around a fifty foot screen displaying that. Why not an opera, I say."

[OOC: Calling slowtimes!]

[poins]

"What is an opera, prithee?" Poins asks.

[herr_bookman]

"Only the best art form on earth," Autor says, and sniffs at the screen. "Opera is similar to a play, but all of the actors--men and women--sing their lines accompanied by an orchestra."

He tilts his chin up and raises a brow. "I bet you'd love Don Giovanni."

[poins]

"Oh, 'tis that play they went to see, a little bit ago in this play!" Poins says.


Poor Autor -- a movie that actually uses opera in a positive way!

[herr_bookman]

Autor blinks. "Er... So they did. Well, now you've a firsthand look."

Then he pops his nose in the air. "That outfit of hers was still distrac--er, indecent, though!"

[poins]

"Tis very pleasing, if a little lewd," Poins says.

He does not look away!

[herr_bookman]

Autor pinches the bridge of his nose, rosy-cheeked. "Every word you say is calculated to cause me to blush, isn't it? Well. After this apparition is done, do you know if there will be another one playing?"

[poins]

"I think so, yes, indeed," Poins says.

[herr_bookman]

"Goodness," Autor says. "Looks like we'll be out here all night, then. "Do you want me to go get a blanket or two? I don't know about you, but I'm freezing out here."

Then he kicks at a pebble. "This play was all right. I suspect the next will be interesting, too."

[poins]

"Yes, thank you, and I'll fetch some drink when there's a break," Poins says.

[herr_bookman]

"Pfft!" Autor says, and tilts his chin up. "No. I don't trust you not to spike my drink, you rumpled scallowag. I'll get them, when I get the blankets."

He pops a hand on his hip. "Well? What do you want?"

[poins]

"What do I want?" Poins laughs. "A bottle of good ale: a big one!"

[herr_bookman]

Autor grins sharply. "Oh, good, fire-whiskey it is, then."

That said, he makes his way back to the bar, where he negotiates for their vittles and other supplies. When he returns, he--and a wait rat--are bearing three blankets, two gallons of interesting drinks, and one plate of food.

"Bar sent food out as well," he says, gesturing to the strawberries and cheese balanced on the rat's back. He tips it with some of the later, and sends it back. "She's kind."

[poins]

Poins spreads the blankets, and then sits upon one. "Thou hast brought cloth to cover many acres, as not to be too close to my own poxy self?"

[herr_bookman]

Autor laughs and shakes out one of the blankets. "So you admit that you're poxy, now? I brought two of these to wrap around us. Unlike you I do not bathe in lakes during the dying gasps of winter."

That said, he folds the heavy cloth around himself and plops down on the blanket spread on the ground. Then he retrieves a small bottle from his interior pocket. "Here," he says, tossing it at Poins. "I didn't know whether your tastes run hot."