milliways_bar | (no subject)

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.]

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

"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."

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

"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?"

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

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."

Edited 2013-03-11 21:28 (UTC)

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?"

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."

"I was supposing thou wouldst think that I am poxy!" Poins laughs.

He takes the bottle. "Thank thee, good friend! What is the contents of this noble vessel?"

"Maybe you suppose correctly!" Autor says, smirking.

Then he looks to where the blanket meets the dirt, which has suddenly become very, very interesting. "It is fire-whiskey, as promised, though I'll be hard-pressed to tell you why I picked it up for you. Drinking's a nasty habit."

He wraps his lips around a strawberry to keep from speaking.

Poins opens the bottle, and takes a thirsty sip.

"Oh, tis the stuff that will put ample hair upon my bottom, like unto the grey wolf!" he laughs. "I thank thee, friend."

He reaches out, and claps the author on his back.

And of course Autor just about chokes on his strawberry.

"If that's the manner in which you thank me, I'd rather you didn't," he grumbles between coughs.

"How wouldst thou rather that I thank thee, then?" Poins says, pursing his lips. "With a sweet kiss, like to a gentle lady?"

Autor's jaw drops, and when he snaps it shut again, he nearly catches his tongue. Needless to say, he's almost as red as the fruit he's holding. "For a blanket?"

Edited 2013-03-11 22:53 (UTC)

Poins snorts with laughter.

"And for most excellent drink, and food that thou wouldst share!"

Autor rests his head on his knees and smirks wickedly. "Oh? Then 'take, eat: this is my body, which is broken for you: do this in remembrance of me.'"*

*1 Cor. 11:24, King James 2000 Bible (©2003)

"Thou art so chaste and guile-less, and then all of a sudden, thou wouldst blaspheme the sacrament like the most hardened rogue?" Poins laughs. "Thou art a strange, strange beast indeed, my friend."

"Too much time in your presence, knave," Autor says, picking up a piece of cheese, "taints the most unblemished"--and here he sticks his tongue out at him--"of mouths."

"Nice tongue," Poins says, "I would fain baptise it with this fine brew from thine own gift, that it would lose its maidenhood of drink. There, have I now blasphemed two sacraments at once, to thine own one!"

Autor snaps his teeth playfully. "Are we to create for ourselves an unholy sanctuary here under these blankets? I've no interest in dipping my tongue in hell fire."

"Then dip it somewhere else!" Poins laughs. "The scented oils of the last unction, maybe?"

"Heavens, before or after anointment?" he asks, tilting his head.

"Depends how close thou art to final rest, from blushing," Poins says, "as all thy blood would fain evaporate out of thine ears, with every second phrase that I am speaking."

And with that reminder, Autor tries to strangle his quickly darkening blush. He fails, naturally, and so tries to hide it by eating another strawberry. His licks his fingers, sticky with juice.

"Are you sure you want me corrupted, Poins?" he muses. "The result would be something awful."

"At first, thou wouldst blush fit to burst thy skull," Poins says, "but then, with time, thou wouldst be used to thy corruption, and blush less. 'Twould be so beneficial!"

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herr_bookman - 2013-03-13 00:42 (UTC) - Expand