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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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!"

"What! And deprive you of a source of color in your life?" he says, smirking as he nibbles on some cheese. "Indeed, I'd like to not be caught unawares, but at what cost?"