nepetaleijon (
nepetaleijon) wrote in
milliways_bar2014-12-09 12:35 pm
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[Out of Milliways, Sort Of:
We have all seized the white perimeter as our own
and reached for a pen if only to show
we did not just laze in an armchair turning pages;
we pressed a thought into the wayside,
planted an impression along the verge.]
Outside, snow lies thick on the Milliways grounds. Or at least that part of the Milliways grounds that includes the entrance to the Labyrinth.
It's some distance from that entrance, though, where there seems to be a stirring under the snow. As of something -- or someone -- burrowing up through it.
The head that emerges in a shoosh of scattered snow is possibly familiar to the casual viewer, although less so than usual: the blue fur hood is gone, replaced by a thicker tawny-brown fur hood with tufted ears. The bright eyes that blink up at their surroundings from under the hood, though, are cheerfully yellow as ever.
"We made it!"
[Three pups, three muns, tag any or all! Open until it scrolls. Slowtime is love. ETA: feel free to tag any or all of the trolls after they have arrived in the bar!]
We have all seized the white perimeter as our own
and reached for a pen if only to show
we did not just laze in an armchair turning pages;
we pressed a thought into the wayside,
planted an impression along the verge.]
[text-only version here]
Outside, snow lies thick on the Milliways grounds. Or at least that part of the Milliways grounds that includes the entrance to the Labyrinth.
It's some distance from that entrance, though, where there seems to be a stirring under the snow. As of something -- or someone -- burrowing up through it.
The head that emerges in a shoosh of scattered snow is possibly familiar to the casual viewer, although less so than usual: the blue fur hood is gone, replaced by a thicker tawny-brown fur hood with tufted ears. The bright eyes that blink up at their surroundings from under the hood, though, are cheerfully yellow as ever.
"We made it!"
[Three pups, three muns, tag any or all! Open until it scrolls. Slowtime is love. ETA: feel free to tag any or all of the trolls after they have arrived in the bar!]
In The Bar
A large cup of Troll coffee--oily, scalding hot and mostly tasteless--is clearly in order. The red armored jacket he drapes over the back of his chair to create a large, inconsiderate puddle.
Re: In The Bar
Mmm, Purrl Grey.
Re: In The Bar
It's not a new observation; he's made it about once a day since they encountered the lynx. It's because he resents how
ridiculously adorablewarm it looks.Re: In The Bar
Re: In The Bar
It doesn't look like anything special.
"WE ARE GOING TO HAVE GET SHOVELS FROM THE BAR OR SOMETHING IF YOU EVER EXPECT TO MAKE IT BACK TO YOUR CAVE IN THIS. IT IS NOT SO BAD DOWN HERE BY THE BAR YET SOMEHOW HALFWAY UP A MOUNTAIN IT IS SUDDENLY ATROCIOUS."
"WE SHOULD NOT HAVE LEFT THAT WINDOW OPEN, I WONDER IF SNOW HAS BACKED UP INTO THE FORGE. OR IF IT IS JUST TUMBLING SEASONALLY ONTO THE VARIOUS HORRIFIC ORIFICES OF THE HORRORTERRORS."
Re: In The Bar
She doesn't sound like the prospect troubles her, though.
Re: In The Bar
He takes a deep draught of coffee. "MAN, I CANNOT TELL YOU HOW MUCH I AM FEVERISHLY ANTICIPATING GETTING TO GRIPS WITH THE CHALLENGE OF SOMEHOW GETTING TO SLEEP WITHOUT THE ENDLESS YAMMERING OF AN ARMADA OF REPTILIAN LACKEYS."
Re: In The Bar
Re: In The Bar
"...OK, NO, SHUT UP, I THOUGHT IT WOULD MAKE ME FEEL BETTER TO GROUSE AND COMPLAIN AND ACT LIKE I WON'T MISS THE DUMB FUCKHEADS BUT NEVER MIND, ABORT."
Re: In The Bar
She looks downcast on his behalf for a moment, then leans over and bumps her head against his shoulder.
Re: In The Bar
Re: In The Bar
Re: In The Bar
Re: In The Bar
Nepeta starts giggling.
Re: In The Bar
"MY INANE BUMPKIN 'CHARACTER' IS LITERALLY BRISTLING WITH PLOT HOOKS LIKE A GODDAMN NARRATIVE SEA URCHIN AND YOU GIVE ME ABSOLUTELY NOTHING."
Re: In The Bar
"The mighty huntress looks down her noble nose at the humble furmer," she says, "and declawrs 'There comes a time, sir, when avoiding all risk is no longer an option.'"
Re: In The Bar
"MAYBE UNDER THE CLOAK OF MY AGGRAVATING HUMILITY MY GUY ACTUALLY HAS, I DON'T KNOW, SOME KIND OF UNSPOKEN FUCKING MAJESTY AND IMPERIOUS GREATNESS. LIKE HE'S SOME KIND OF HOLY WARRIOR WHO HUNG UP HIS SPURS AND FUCKED OFF TO FARM ALGAE BECAUSE HE HAS SEEN TOO MUCH. THAT SOUNDS GOOD."
Re: In The Bar
"'For well I know,' the huntress continues with a knowing smile, 'that befur you retired to this fungus farm to s33k a simpler life, you were a rawrrior of great renown...'"
Re: In The Bar
"BUT I AM DOING IT ANYWAY, SO CLEARLY I HAVE SEEN SOME SHIT. SO YOU CAN TAKE YOUR BLANDISHMENTS AND WHATEVER LAST JOB YOU HAVE COME TO PREDICTABLY DRAG ME OUT OF RETIREMENT TO PURSUE AND SHOVE THEM FIRMLY UP THE HOLE OF WHATEVER APPROPRIATE HOLIDAY RAPTOR THIS ILL-DEFINED SETTING CONSUMES."
Re: In The Bar
... once she figures out what it is, of course.
"Which, the huntress adds slyly, I may not yet reveal to you. But dawn is coming, and I must impawse on your hospitality for the day."
Re: In The Bar
"OR..." Karkat wrings a hand over the back of his neck, doing a dead-on roleplay characterization of a huge fucking weenie who gets awkward and acutely self-conscious when even the possibility of things taking a PG-rated direction crosses the boundary of adolescent surmise.
"I GUESS YOU COULD STAY IN MY DEGRADED YOKELGARRET, IT IS PROBABLY... MARGINALLY LESS SMELLY." Oh yeah. There's the sweet talk.
Re: In The Bar