It was, actually. Only for wizards, that's more like, 'Merlin's pants'.
[He follows to the bed, of course, and flops down beside her, back against the wall, head titled slightly forward so his chin rests on his chest. After a second, he reaches across himself to hold out an expectant hand for the bottle.]
Criminally boring, though. If something isn't awful or threatening us with near death and dismemberment, or--causing everyone to run around like madmen in some way--then it's just loops of endless corridors.
[And he tips his head toward her a little, sliding his eyes around to look at her without turning his head.]
And how was your day, darling, it sounds bloody stressful.
Y'know what, no, it wasn't. [ she handed him the bottle at his request, but now (if he's taken a drink) she's snagging it back to take another drink of her own. she doesn't ] It wasn't, because I don't care. I don't, he can do whatever he wants. Like, I guess he likes chicks who actually knife him, so whatever.
[ but he's gonna call her on it, on how she keeps saying she doesn't care but she so obviously is pissed right off. so she sinks down to lean her head on his shoulder, and after a second she says: ] I just wish it were my idea, y'know? [ to not be a sorta-thing. her tone's quieter there, less pissed-off and more like a word-filled sigh. nevermind that she herself has kissed a decent-sized handful of people who weren't kennex. that's different. ]
[Sirius would not be one to question the merits of hooking up with a knifer girl. It's questionable, certainly, but not outside the realm of possibility, especially with certain possibilities and exceptions in mind. But there are things that are a little difficult to explain. This is one of them.
And also he is here in full sympathy with Sally. If it was Sirius hooking up with knifer girl, that would be one thing. This is Kennex, who Sirius has always been sceptical of (or so he tells himself now).]
Yeah.
[He agrees, instead of questioning, and lets his cheek rest against the top of her head when she leans against his shoulder. Obviously she knows how much she actually cares; no point in pointing that out.]
You could always chuck him out. [He gestures, toward the empty room, before he reaches back to take the bottle.] Metaphorically, obviously.
[ she hands the bottle back, her brow knitting. ] Chuck him out of where? [ eloquent questions with sally. ] Like, he already knows he fucked up. I don't know what other ~metaphorical chucking~ I can do.
Look, if we were actually dating, that'd be one thing. But we're not, not by along shot and technically there's pretty much no reason he shouldn't go off and whatever.
[ she's getting dangerously close to some big fat hypocrisy, considering her own pastimes. and she kind of knows it, but part of her's too butthurt to care. ]
Besides, he pretty much chucked himself out. I have no idea if he's even gonna talk to me again.
[Sirius, King Relationship Hypocrite, just nods. He is okay with Sally being potentially crowned Queen Hypocrite to rule at his side. They understand one another, maybe that's what they need.
Well, they need a bit more. But the mutual understanding is nice.]
Oh, come off it. [At that last bit, though, he just scoffs. Girlfriend please.] You think he's just going to be done with you? He wouldn't have come round and said anything to you if he was planning to chuck himself out.
Look, if you aren't happy with him, tell him you aren't happy with him. Don't string the bastard along and act like it's all right. Be awful to him if you have to be. It'll make you feel better, and he might just deserve it. And if he doesn't, he'll be awful to you, and you'll see the error of your ways...
[And so on, and so forth. He waves a hand.]
And I could say more, but. I think we need more to drink if we're going to continue on with this.
[ despite being the reigning king and queen of the most convenient hypocrisy at any given moment, they unfortunately do need a little bit more than their mutual understanding. they need food every once in a while. sleep, too. ~titchy~ hedgehogs, they need those. mostly the understanding thing though.
and honestly, she has so many ways to protest to what he's saying - stuff like how john came by to confess what he did before he chucked himself out, entirely unplanned. or how she's not stringing him along, they haven't even talked since... y'know, since they talked. about that. and she doesn't have any immediate plans to change that, because maybe it's better he hang around some other chick who's inevitably gonna kill him one day instead of hanging around sally.
while he probably meant he needs more to drink, sally's the one snagging the bottle, because he's right, this conversation would in fact be better with less blood in her boozestream. her fingers fumble the lip of the bottle as if to attempt to unscrew the lid before realizing they discarded it off to the side a while ago and skipping right ahead. the drink's taken without really even lifting hr head off his shoulder, more a sideways affair than anything, but no more than a drop of it's spilled.
then sally hands the bottle back into his lap and scoots her knees in to rest on top of his thigh so she's better able to swivel her forehead into his shoulder instead. ]
It's stupid. Space isn't supposed to be so freaking- stupid.
[For him, anyways. He accepts the bottle, and shifts, just a little, so she can burrow closer. Without really moving much, lest he disturb her, he raises the bottle to his mouth and takes a quick drink. A swallow; he takes a second, just to catch up a little.]
But y'know. You're not stupid. You're one of the best bloody things about space. Have I told you that lately, 'cos you are. And I'm not even pissed yet and I'm saying that, which means it's pretty true.
[ sally lifts her head again to give him a look (not entirely unlike this sentiment here) translating loosely to 'ugh, why are you so great, stop that because it's gross'. then she loops her arms around his neck to drag his head in closer so she can plant a kiss in the mess of hair above his ear, because there's no way that isn't stupid and sappy to tell him how much she appreciates the thought.
then her head's back down on his shoulder, though she hasn't extricated her arms quite yet. ] Space isn't s'posed to be, and it's seriously just the stupidest of stupid things, [ she says, and it hangs there unfinished for a second. then: ] Times like this, I almost wish I wanted to go back. Like, even 5% wanted to go. [ but she doesn't, is what she's saying. not even now, she doesn't. ]
[At that look, he makes the international sound of fond acknowledgement (fond tongue click, either aww or ohh, as in, ohh, youuuu), and he angles his face to make the kiss a bit more possible first, before he shifts again to allow her weight back to his shoulder.
And he lets her make her statements, too, and doesn't argue--mostly because he can read into that second bit enough to know that even that 5% isn't very serious. Instead, he holds the bottle back out to her.]
Just come back with me. Problem solved. I'm not saying we haven't got our share of wankers, right, but none of them are called Kennex, and I can absolutely hex the lips off of all of them.
[Actually--]
I could hex the lips off of Kennex as well, if you like. Just say the word.
You'd really take me back with you? [ yep, it's that part she's latching onto as she accepts the bottle back and mentally plots the trajectory for a sideways swig. it ends up mostly successful, alarmingly. and while this shot-or-so may not have kicked in yet, the others absolutely have so she asks the first stupid question to mind. ]
Who else? [ time to drunkenly gauge whether or not she should feel any kind of special. ]
[Would, if it's possible, if it ever comes to be. But who gives a damn about specifics right now, yeah? It's time for magnanimous promises, and futures that might never come to be.
A little loosely, he lets his head fall to the side as he considers her question.]
Erm. Well, Edgeworth. Obviously. If he wanted, he might turn me down. And you, which I've already said. Congratulations. And... I dunno.
[There's others. But would they want to go? And Remus, if he could take Remus back with him, before it all went to shit--]
[Really, Sally, you are very special. It's just that Sirius doesn't always think of the fact that what a girl wants to hear is not 'yes let's go on a getaway you and my best mate'. Even when he's totally sober, he doesn't always have that thought. (See: his intense relationship with James 'probably you can live in a shed in the garden Sirius don't worry' Potter.)
Anyways. Motorbikes! Loads more important.]
No, no, I've got a broomstick as well. Actually, I've got a few. But I got a motorbike when I was seventeen, when my Uncle Alphard died, and left me all of his gold. And got blasted off of the family tree for it. Brilliant. Motorbike and flat, and-- gifts, to the Potters, for putting up with a second bloody son that they'd never asked for.
[a.k.a, Sirius, which he sort of gets at by knocking the bottle against his chest, vaguely, before he takes another sip.]
God, you had an actual ~family tree~? That's intense. Mine was pretty much just 'what happens, happens', like 'oh I think your mom had two sisters, or maybe it was three? And you've probably got some cousins somewhere, who even knows'.
[A little pained, he shuts his eyes, lets his head loll back.]
No, I wish it was as unfocused as yours. There's definitely a family tree. Loads of memorisation involved. Hierarchies, ancestral names, inheritances, titles, patriarchs, careful preservation of pure blood. The whole bit. Toujours Pur.
Wow. That blows, like - super blows. I don't know about you, but I, I'd be totally fine with getting burned the hell off a tree like that.
[ she snags the bottle from him now, but so far she's just eyeing it contemplatively instead of drinking more. which is probably well enough for now, considering everything's really starting to swim already. ]
[Far from it. He gives over the bottle without protest, as his reluctance to keep up this conversation starts to filter in through the numb of the alcohol. Whatever; he rubs his wrist over his mouth, once, rough, and then shifts so he can fumble for his lighter in his pocket, still with one arm around Sally.]
Anyways. Doesn't matter. What's the name of Kennex's murderous-- skank.
Odessa. [ the same murderous skank who sally was a gigantic idiot and freaking outed herself to during that stupid nanite plague. but she's not gonna point that one out, considering sirius was the one to pretty much tell her how idiotic it was at the time. his head's big enough without another win on his record. ]
[He presses his index finger to his temple, a physical gesture for 'committing this to permanent memory'.]
Now the only question is, should I stick her bedsheets permanently to her bed, or change the water of her next shower so it colours her hair bright green? Or should I keep working, 'cos I bet the more I drink, the cleverer I'll get on this one.
[don't worry, too excited for revenge to be laboring over any connections.]
[ she busts out grinning despite herself, her head rolling back a little clumsily to look up at him. ] Don't say that, now I want to hear it. [ it. them. whatever the cleverer ideas are. she wants them, she can't resist. ]
[He says it more fondly than judgmentally. They're of like minds, him and Sally--and he's more than happy to elaborate. With a sigh:]
We could... hex her eyebrows onto her upper lip. Moustache her. We could hide the door to her room. We could turn her shoes to mice. Go on, you give me some, now--
But that's-, that's stupid stuff. [ she isn't trying to say the ideas are stupid, she's just had too much to drink to properly articulate that if it has the potential to cause any kind of laughter but sally's and sirius's, it's barking up the wrong tree in a big way. ]
Like... [ give her a second... but not more than a second. it's almost like she had this ready just for the occasion. ] Like, hey - you ever heard of 'blue waffle'?
uses this icon just 4 u as reward for blue waffle discussion rp
[He laughs, at her dismissal--stupid stuff, how wounding--and he fumbles to clap at least one hand over his heart, struck right down to the core over that one.]
That's not very nice--and here I thought we were meant to be friends, not-- backstabbing, ins... [Wwwwwait okay she's talking, and he tries to put those words together in some way that makes sense, in a revengey context...] What, like-- waffles, that-- No?
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[He follows to the bed, of course, and flops down beside her, back against the wall, head titled slightly forward so his chin rests on his chest. After a second, he reaches across himself to hold out an expectant hand for the bottle.]
Criminally boring, though. If something isn't awful or threatening us with near death and dismemberment, or--causing everyone to run around like madmen in some way--then it's just loops of endless corridors.
[And he tips his head toward her a little, sliding his eyes around to look at her without turning his head.]
And how was your day, darling, it sounds bloody stressful.
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[ but he's gonna call her on it, on how she keeps saying she doesn't care but she so obviously is pissed right off. so she sinks down to lean her head on his shoulder, and after a second she says: ] I just wish it were my idea, y'know? [ to not be a sorta-thing. her tone's quieter there, less pissed-off and more like a word-filled sigh. nevermind that she herself has kissed a decent-sized handful of people who weren't kennex. that's different. ]
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And also he is here in full sympathy with Sally. If it was Sirius hooking up with knifer girl, that would be one thing. This is Kennex, who Sirius has always been sceptical of (or so he tells himself now).]
Yeah.
[He agrees, instead of questioning, and lets his cheek rest against the top of her head when she leans against his shoulder. Obviously she knows how much she actually cares; no point in pointing that out.]
You could always chuck him out. [He gestures, toward the empty room, before he reaches back to take the bottle.] Metaphorically, obviously.
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Chuck him out, I mean. Tell him you're through. Or d'you really think it's enough, that he knows he fucked up? That's your idea of some punishment?
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[ she's getting dangerously close to some big fat hypocrisy, considering her own pastimes. and she kind of knows it, but part of her's too butthurt to care. ]
Besides, he pretty much chucked himself out. I have no idea if he's even gonna talk to me again.
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Well, they need a bit more. But the mutual understanding is nice.]
Oh, come off it. [At that last bit, though, he just scoffs. Girlfriend please.] You think he's just going to be done with you? He wouldn't have come round and said anything to you if he was planning to chuck himself out.
Look, if you aren't happy with him, tell him you aren't happy with him. Don't string the bastard along and act like it's all right. Be awful to him if you have to be. It'll make you feel better, and he might just deserve it. And if he doesn't, he'll be awful to you, and you'll see the error of your ways...
[And so on, and so forth. He waves a hand.]
And I could say more, but. I think we need more to drink if we're going to continue on with this.
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and honestly, she has so many ways to protest to what he's saying - stuff like how john came by to confess what he did before he chucked himself out, entirely unplanned. or how she's not stringing him along, they haven't even talked since... y'know, since they talked. about that. and she doesn't have any immediate plans to change that, because maybe it's better he hang around some other chick who's inevitably gonna kill him one day instead of hanging around sally.
while he probably meant he needs more to drink, sally's the one snagging the bottle, because he's right, this conversation would in fact be better with less blood in her boozestream. her fingers fumble the lip of the bottle as if to attempt to unscrew the lid before realizing they discarded it off to the side a while ago and skipping right ahead. the drink's taken without really even lifting hr head off his shoulder, more a sideways affair than anything, but no more than a drop of it's spilled.
then sally hands the bottle back into his lap and scoots her knees in to rest on top of his thigh so she's better able to swivel her forehead into his shoulder instead. ]
It's stupid. Space isn't supposed to be so freaking- stupid.
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[For him, anyways. He accepts the bottle, and shifts, just a little, so she can burrow closer. Without really moving much, lest he disturb her, he raises the bottle to his mouth and takes a quick drink. A swallow; he takes a second, just to catch up a little.]
But y'know. You're not stupid. You're one of the best bloody things about space. Have I told you that lately, 'cos you are. And I'm not even pissed yet and I'm saying that, which means it's pretty true.
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then her head's back down on his shoulder, though she hasn't extricated her arms quite yet. ] Space isn't s'posed to be, and it's seriously just the stupidest of stupid things, [ she says, and it hangs there unfinished for a second. then: ] Times like this, I almost wish I wanted to go back. Like, even 5% wanted to go. [ but she doesn't, is what she's saying. not even now, she doesn't. ]
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And he lets her make her statements, too, and doesn't argue--mostly because he can read into that second bit enough to know that even that 5% isn't very serious. Instead, he holds the bottle back out to her.]
Just come back with me. Problem solved. I'm not saying we haven't got our share of wankers, right, but none of them are called Kennex, and I can absolutely hex the lips off of all of them.
[Actually--]
I could hex the lips off of Kennex as well, if you like. Just say the word.
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Who else? [ time to drunkenly gauge whether or not she should feel any kind of special. ]
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[Would, if it's possible, if it ever comes to be. But who gives a damn about specifics right now, yeah? It's time for magnanimous promises, and futures that might never come to be.
A little loosely, he lets his head fall to the side as he considers her question.]
Erm. Well, Edgeworth. Obviously. If he wanted, he might turn me down. And you, which I've already said. Congratulations. And... I dunno.
[There's others. But would they want to go? And Remus, if he could take Remus back with him, before it all went to shit--]
Have I told you about my flying motorbike?
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Of course there's a flying motorbike. Brooms or whatever would obviously be way too cliche.
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Anyways. Motorbikes! Loads more important.]
No, no, I've got a broomstick as well. Actually, I've got a few. But I got a motorbike when I was seventeen, when my Uncle Alphard died, and left me all of his gold. And got blasted off of the family tree for it. Brilliant. Motorbike and flat, and-- gifts, to the Potters, for putting up with a second bloody son that they'd never asked for.
[a.k.a, Sirius, which he sort of gets at by knocking the bottle against his chest, vaguely, before he takes another sip.]
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[A little pained, he shuts his eyes, lets his head loll back.]
No, I wish it was as unfocused as yours. There's definitely a family tree. Loads of memorisation involved. Hierarchies, ancestral names, inheritances, titles, patriarchs, careful preservation of pure blood. The whole bit. Toujours Pur.
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[ she snags the bottle from him now, but so far she's just eyeing it contemplatively instead of drinking more. which is probably well enough for now, considering everything's really starting to swim already. ]
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[Far from it. He gives over the bottle without protest, as his reluctance to keep up this conversation starts to filter in through the numb of the alcohol. Whatever; he rubs his wrist over his mouth, once, rough, and then shifts so he can fumble for his lighter in his pocket, still with one arm around Sally.]
Anyways. Doesn't matter. What's the name of Kennex's murderous-- skank.
[Not a familiar word.]
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[He presses his index finger to his temple, a physical gesture for 'committing this to permanent memory'.]
Now the only question is, should I stick her bedsheets permanently to her bed, or change the water of her next shower so it colours her hair bright green? Or should I keep working, 'cos I bet the more I drink, the cleverer I'll get on this one.
[don't worry, too excited for revenge to be laboring over any connections.]
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[He says it more fondly than judgmentally. They're of like minds, him and Sally--and he's more than happy to elaborate. With a sigh:]
We could... hex her eyebrows onto her upper lip. Moustache her. We could hide the door to her room. We could turn her shoes to mice. Go on, you give me some, now--
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Like... [ give her a second... but not more than a second. it's almost like she had this ready just for the occasion. ] Like, hey - you ever heard of 'blue waffle'?
uses this icon just 4 u as reward for blue waffle discussion rp
[He laughs, at her dismissal--stupid stuff, how wounding--and he fumbles to clap at least one hand over his heart, struck right down to the core over that one.]
That's not very nice--and here I thought we were meant to be friends, not-- backstabbing, ins... [Wwwwwait okay she's talking, and he tries to put those words together in some way that makes sense, in a revengey context...] What, like-- waffles, that-- No?
that fuckin hair
8]
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