patheticvillain | forty-seven ➢ video

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forty-seven ➢ video

So, now that everybody's not infants anymore, we're leaving. For a while. Going to Chris's world and mine.

[Cassel looks the tiniest bit uncertain about this, glancing to Chris like you take this, I don't know what else to say.]

Yeah, so nobody blow up the ship while we're gone. Iris, can you watch the dogs? And Loki, you were an adorable kid and I'll bring back Oreos if you promise not to do anything stupid while I'm gone.

Anyway, we should be back in just a couple of days, hopefully [hopefully?? definitely?? help], at least in Barge time. So nobody break shit.

Oh, and we're kidnapping Scott.

Scottyyydog. Vamanos.

( ooc; cassel and chris are going to kick-ass land and then curse workers land. during their time in cassel's world they're going to be worked by cassel's mom to essentially switch personalities for a little while. more on this in return posts, which will be monday-ish! )

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( written before 12/11 departure )

For Loki, ten helmets. With the cow horns and everything.

For Andrew, a photo album.

For Ben, a new mask and cape for Mystery Baking Companions.

For Babs, a lipstick dagger, grey gloves.

For Cass, I'm already making her black gloves (hand-knit), but I want her to have photos of her past time on the Barge, too. ( up to player discretion )

For Mira, new notebooks and old-fashioned quill-tipped pens.

For Duke, an oak chest with a hidden compartment. Good Scotch.

For Anya, new and strange liquors from other planets than Earth.

For Morgana, so much weed.

For Marsh, a tiny tiara for Aster, lots of interesting fabrics, a metal-studded teaset.

For Zane, grey gloves with hidden compartments for coins, so much weed, an encyclopedia of illicit plants.

For Mickey, the FF half of a broken heart BFF necklace set.

For the Emperor, The Epic of Gilgamesh, a DVD of Cats.

For Jackson, a life-size oil portrait of himself.

For Scott, pictures of his mom, black gloves with room for claws.

For Iris, a perfect replica of the weird Slevin-thing, mechanical rather than sentient.

And for Chris, same as last year: big tree set up for Midnight Mass in St. Peter's. Besides that, I want a leather-studded collar for Bowie, a new designer suit in red and black, with matching gloves, cufflinks in the shape of the Silent Hill symbol, and a perfect replica of Mom's Resurrection Diamond.

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[And then he looks really worried for a second. The day his dad found out about Ian had been the worst day of Mickey's life, and he knows that still wasn't as bad as it could have potentially gotten. The naivete in that question -- it doesn't bode well to him.]

They know about you two yet? That he's...

They don't even know I exist yet. They probably don't even know that Cassel died, or where he's been all this time.

And you're showing up calling him your boyfriend?

...Yeah. Maybe not those exact words, but. Yeah.

How the fuck stupid are you two?

Look, I know it's probably going to be a fucking disaster. But it's important I at least meet his mom.

Family is important to us.

[He lets out a short, sharp breath that could almost be a laugh, except that it couldn't be further from that. It sounds more like exasperation, or maybe even rising panic. He's not sure what to say next -- how to at least make sure Chris actually gets how dangerous this could be. He doesn't know Cassel's family, but Christ, at least Mickey's dad doesn't have magic powers. He bites his lip, rubs a hand nervously over his mouth, and flips over to--]

[Private to Cassel]

Tell me disaster means somebody throwing a drink in someone else's face or some rom-com movieland bullshit like that.

[Tell him he's wrong, he means. Please.]

Disaster means throwing a drink in someone else's face.

[But he says it with that look, that smile, that means he's lying and he can't be fucked to lie better, to come up with a face that would make all this bullshit seem like the truth. Because the truth, honestly, is that he's panicking. He knows exactly what might happen. He knows. But he can't make Chris see it.]

Sharpe.

The fuck do you want me to tell you, huh? What you want to hear or the truth?

Well, don't fucking do it, then! How hard is that? You live here, it's not like they're wondering who you're sneaking in through the window!

It's what he wants to do.

And what? The word no isn't in your vocabulary?

I tried to explain what it'd be like. But he still wants to. Like - I think he needs to. I don't know why, but.

It's not something that's gonna go away. And I've been running from it forever, so maybe I can just. Get it over with.

Fuck.

[He stares at the screen, horrified and helpless. Seriously, fuck having friends. This caring bullshit sucks. He shakes his head and hangs up, too distressed to add anything else. What is he even going to say? Be less stupid?]

[Mickey really is just kind of panicking now, and he hates it -- he's mad at himself for it and mad at Chris for making him give a shit about what happens to him and mad at the Admiral for even bringing him here in the first place -- but he doesn't know what to do about it, and he hates that most of all. He paces for a few minutes, biting his nails.

There's a cowardly part of him that wants to let it go there, go and hide like he usually would and just... be upset until he finds a way not to be, but something won't let him this time. He has to try. So he calls Chris back.]

You've never asked me why I got married.

[He glances up from where he's lying on his bed, filled with mixed feelings now. He wants to meet Cassel's family, but he's not sure he wants to put Cassel through that kind of emotional pain, now. How much of him is lying about how he feels? It's hard to gage]

I figured that wasn't any of my business.

[That's good of him, actually, but right now it just pisses Mickey off, because that makes Chris a good friend and-- fuck. He's scared for him, he really is.

Mickey can't afford to hesitate, though. If he hesitates, he won't say it at all. He blurts it out in a rush, almost over the end of Chris's sentence.]

My dad made me. After he-- Ian and me were--

[He licks his lips nervously and looks away, shaking his head. He can't get that far into it. He lets out a shaky breath and drops his eyes to the floor, folding his arms tight across his chest.]

Shotgun wedding.

Your dad made you get married?

...fuck.

[Fuck - Cassel still has Lila.]

What, with just some..random girl, or whatever?

[He nods tightly, gone mute now. It's more or less true, close enough to the truth for this conversation, and he can't bring himself to sketch out the rest of the details.]

...Fuck, Mic.

Jesus christ, your dad is a psychopath.

[Once upon a time, Mickey had denied this fact vehemently, but he really can't anymore. He swallows, struggling to speak.]

Just-- whatever you think you gotta do, you don't.

I don't want him to think I'm ashamed of us.

I'm not saying hide. You're not hiding here. You don't have to.

[And suddenly, yeah, he really gets why Cassel would want to stick around as long as he can.]

What if I want to marry him someday? You have to tell your family. It's just something you do.

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[Private, a few minutes after the Cassel thread]

[Private, a few minutes after the Cassel thread]

[Private, a few minutes after the Cassel thread] CW: indirectly implied sexual assault

[Private, a few minutes after the Cassel thread] CW: indirectly implied sexual assault

[Private, a few minutes after the Cassel thread]

[Private, a few minutes after the Cassel thread]

[Private, a few minutes after the Cassel thread]

[Private, a few minutes after the Cassel thread]

[Private, a few minutes after the Cassel thread]

[Private, a few minutes after the Cassel thread]