Setting-up is a pain in the ass [Part 1/?]
Title: Setting-up is a pain in the ass
Author: nerrin
Rating: G
Character(s): Morty, Eusine, Falkner, Karen
Warning(s): In which I prove that I totally suck at using present tense, haha.
Summary: For the festival the Johto Academy is holding, a play is being set up by the top classes. Morty decides to skip and spend an afternoon in MacDonalds. Pretty random? Same AU as the 'Many Perks' series.
+
The thing with Eusine was, everything that was related to the man was over before they’d even begun.
“…So you see,” Morty says helpfully, “That’s the problem with you. Things are over before they even have a chance to start.”
Eusine rolls his eyes, “Oh, really?” and leans forward, steals Morty’s white Macbook from the boy seated across him. Morty makes a sound of mild protest, but doesn’t make to snatch it back. He was used to his friend’s spontaneous actions.
The two are seated in the middle of a MacDonald’s restaurant, midway through a Sunday and watching the crowd. Morty has absolutely no idea why Eusine’d be in a place like this - he, personally, was there just to hijack the free WiFi connection and to lounge in the stale air-conditioning, purple scarf and all.
And as per the next part of History Eusine had randomly showed his face there, as he always would - Morty had the strange feeling that his friend was ubiquitous in nature. And considering the fact that most back at school would readily claim that his instincts and ‘feelings’ were never wrong, that’d mean something quite dangerous indeed.
Morty had no idea how the conversation had spiraled from topic to topic, but here they were discussing the nature of things over burgers and fries and waiting on something that’d never happen because they had no idea what that ‘something’ was.
“Oh, you,” Eusine snorts, staring at the luminated screen with an expression of mock disdain. Morty looks up from studying the coke he held in his hands, curious. “Online Minesweeper, again!?”
“I’m good at the game so I play it,” Morty says. “Give me back that, it’s my turn already.”
“You always win at this sort of thing,” Eusine gripes, but hands Morty back his Macbook anyway. Morty sets about scrutinizing the screen intensely for about two seconds, then clicks on a gray square.
“Yeah?” he says, still studying the game-field, blond bangs hanging in the way of his eyes.
Eusine’s scowl can only deepen. “Well, yeah!” he exclaims. “It’s like you’re -”
“- Like he’s psychic or something?”
“Yeah, that…” Eusine says, before - “Whoa, wait, Falkner!? What’re you doing here?”
Falkner rolls his eyes, clad in some sort of strange outfit that seemed to be the result of a very bad attempt to cross both a priest suit and a samurai costume. Morty smothers a snide laugh with his scarf, carrying on with his game while Eusine just gawks and Falkner glares.
“And what happened to you?” Eusine goes on to court death. “Wardrobe got hit by a terrorist?”
“Could say the same to you,” Falkner shoots back, irate. “This is for a play, stupid. You know, for the festival our school’s hosting? I’m here to arrange for a back-up supply of plastic utensils, because it turns out that our Sinnoh affiliates will be attending as well.”
“You walked all the way here in that thing?” Morty laughs, watching as his opponent all the way on the other end of cyberspace panics and blows up his own character. “You sure have guts, Falkner.”
“Says the guy who’s blatantly missing rehearsal.”
Morty raises an eyebrow, more so at Falkner than the recent challenger for the title of Minesweeper King on the site. “Mm, you’ll live,” he murmurs, before closing his eyes and concentrating on the new field pulled up. “The mines are concentrated at the top-right corner of the field, eh. What a strange arrangement.”
“Are you really psychic?” Falkner asks, all seriousness, joining the fray and elbowing Eusine aside, his mission seemingly forgotten. Eusine protests, but makes space for the guy anyway.
“You can make that decision yourself,” Morty replies, before the game declares him the winner (yet again). “Oh, by the way. What role am I supposed to be playing?”
Falkner sighs, before getting up. “And you can ask Clair yourself. Provided she doesn’t kill you afterwards.”
“The thing is, she probably will, wouldn’t she?”
“True,” Falkner waves a casual hand. “If you’re wondering, Whitney and Will are in charge of the costumes. That’s where this monstrosity came from.”
Morty nearly snorts the coke out from his nose, but settles with spitting it back into the cup as opposed to all over the keyboard.
Eusine laughs. “What’s so horrible about that?”
Morty looks at him with something like pity after exchanging a brief glance with Falkner. “Well,” he says. “Well.”
“Let’s just say that their tastes leave much to be desired, even for you,” Falkner supplies, noticing Morty’s lack of aptitude with words.
“Oh,” Eusine remarks, studying Falkner closely. “Now I see why. This thing you’re wearing really is horrendous. Was it made from curtains?”
Falkner kicks Eusine from under the table. Morty suppresses yet another laugh - he likes it when people get all flustered and ridiculous - and switches tabs to Microsoft Word and begins to type out the different ways in which he’d attempt to persuade both Whitney and Will to not land him into too terrible a costume. Clair he’d survive, somehow. Maybe use Lance as a human shield?
Morty got as far as “Three - Offer to make the silly costume myself?” before Eusine went on to look up from the ensuing battle with Falkner, asking him - “Now what on earth are you doing?”
“Praying,” Morty mumbles, and even Falkner stills to listen to any potential words of wisdom. “I’m trying to figure out the best escape route by devising strategies in MS Word, what else?”
“Well,” Eusine says, “I was hoping for something more epic, y’know?”
Morty massages his temples, an ominous feeling of dread growing in the pits of his stomach. “Hold on,” he sighs, closing his eyes and slumping into the seat. “I feel someone coming.”
“Who?” that was Falkner, beginning to worry if he had overstayed.
Morty furrows his brow and concentrates some more. “A dark presence,” he mutters. “I can’t really see yet, but - oh, shit,” his eyes snap open and he slams his Macbook shut, hoisting it in his arms and pretty much getting ready to hightail it out of MacDonald’s. “It’s Karen. She’s coming to fetch you, Falkner. Eusine, hide me!”
Falkner makes a mad dash to the counter to accomplish his mission whereas Morty flies to take his place, ducking under the table and into hiding. Eusine splutters, but shoves the guy as best as he can towards the deepest darkest recesses of the corner anyway.
And then Karen walks in just as Falkner strikes his deal with the manager. She raises an eyebrow at him, before noticing Eusine. “Hey, Eusine,” she asks, “Have you seen Morty anywhere?”
“Er,” Eusine says. “No, not really.”
“’Not really’?” Karen further inquires, just as Morty hisses an I’m screwed to Eusine from his position sandwiched between the wall and said Eusine’s legs.
“I mean, I saw him before I arrived,” Eusine manages a save. Falkner casts him a withering look over his shoulder. “And then after I said hi he took off in the other direction, towards the Sinnoh Academy. You know, since it’s right beside our school and all.”
“Ah,” Karen narrows her eyes in suspicion, but then shrugs, deciding the tale was worth buying anyway. Morty sighs in relief, though into his scarf to muffle the noise. “You think he’s there to visit Volkner?”
“What’s this?” Falkner suddenly appears from behind Karen, indicating to her that the deal with the school was settled. “Morty has business with my brother? I never knew that.”
From under the table, Morty rolls his eyes - he never had much to do with Volkner, the brother Falkner may or may not have got on with splendidly back in the days. On a random joint project the two were just randomly thrown together when it came to ‘testing out’ the haunted house a class had built for that one festival.
Morty was fascinated. Volkner was scared shitless, though he had sworn Morty to secrecy on the topic.
All in all, not much - just that Morty had something to blackmail the kid with every now and then.
Karen shrugs, flipping her long, silvery-gray hair over a shoulder. “Ah well, if he’s hiding I don’t suppose he’d let us take him even if we found him, huh? Come on, Falkner, you’ve dawdled enough. Clair’s going to bitch at me if I get pulled down along with you.”
“Says you who doesn’t have to parade around in one of the runway’s greatest disasters,” Falkner snaps, but follows Karen out anyway.
Silence ensues. There’s nothing but the casual buzz of everyday chatter from faceless others. Eusine nudges Morty, still hidden.
“They’re gone, you can get out now.”
Under the table, Morty heaves a sigh of relief.
TBC.
Next chapter feat. actual info on the play and more random crap.
Author: nerrin
Rating: G
Character(s): Morty, Eusine, Falkner, Karen
Warning(s): In which I prove that I totally suck at using present tense, haha.
Summary: For the festival the Johto Academy is holding, a play is being set up by the top classes. Morty decides to skip and spend an afternoon in MacDonalds. Pretty random? Same AU as the 'Many Perks' series.
+
The thing with Eusine was, everything that was related to the man was over before they’d even begun.
“…So you see,” Morty says helpfully, “That’s the problem with you. Things are over before they even have a chance to start.”
Eusine rolls his eyes, “Oh, really?” and leans forward, steals Morty’s white Macbook from the boy seated across him. Morty makes a sound of mild protest, but doesn’t make to snatch it back. He was used to his friend’s spontaneous actions.
The two are seated in the middle of a MacDonald’s restaurant, midway through a Sunday and watching the crowd. Morty has absolutely no idea why Eusine’d be in a place like this - he, personally, was there just to hijack the free WiFi connection and to lounge in the stale air-conditioning, purple scarf and all.
And as per the next part of History Eusine had randomly showed his face there, as he always would - Morty had the strange feeling that his friend was ubiquitous in nature. And considering the fact that most back at school would readily claim that his instincts and ‘feelings’ were never wrong, that’d mean something quite dangerous indeed.
Morty had no idea how the conversation had spiraled from topic to topic, but here they were discussing the nature of things over burgers and fries and waiting on something that’d never happen because they had no idea what that ‘something’ was.
“Oh, you,” Eusine snorts, staring at the luminated screen with an expression of mock disdain. Morty looks up from studying the coke he held in his hands, curious. “Online Minesweeper, again!?”
“I’m good at the game so I play it,” Morty says. “Give me back that, it’s my turn already.”
“You always win at this sort of thing,” Eusine gripes, but hands Morty back his Macbook anyway. Morty sets about scrutinizing the screen intensely for about two seconds, then clicks on a gray square.
“Yeah?” he says, still studying the game-field, blond bangs hanging in the way of his eyes.
Eusine’s scowl can only deepen. “Well, yeah!” he exclaims. “It’s like you’re -”
“- Like he’s psychic or something?”
“Yeah, that…” Eusine says, before - “Whoa, wait, Falkner!? What’re you doing here?”
Falkner rolls his eyes, clad in some sort of strange outfit that seemed to be the result of a very bad attempt to cross both a priest suit and a samurai costume. Morty smothers a snide laugh with his scarf, carrying on with his game while Eusine just gawks and Falkner glares.
“And what happened to you?” Eusine goes on to court death. “Wardrobe got hit by a terrorist?”
“Could say the same to you,” Falkner shoots back, irate. “This is for a play, stupid. You know, for the festival our school’s hosting? I’m here to arrange for a back-up supply of plastic utensils, because it turns out that our Sinnoh affiliates will be attending as well.”
“You walked all the way here in that thing?” Morty laughs, watching as his opponent all the way on the other end of cyberspace panics and blows up his own character. “You sure have guts, Falkner.”
“Says the guy who’s blatantly missing rehearsal.”
Morty raises an eyebrow, more so at Falkner than the recent challenger for the title of Minesweeper King on the site. “Mm, you’ll live,” he murmurs, before closing his eyes and concentrating on the new field pulled up. “The mines are concentrated at the top-right corner of the field, eh. What a strange arrangement.”
“Are you really psychic?” Falkner asks, all seriousness, joining the fray and elbowing Eusine aside, his mission seemingly forgotten. Eusine protests, but makes space for the guy anyway.
“You can make that decision yourself,” Morty replies, before the game declares him the winner (yet again). “Oh, by the way. What role am I supposed to be playing?”
Falkner sighs, before getting up. “And you can ask Clair yourself. Provided she doesn’t kill you afterwards.”
“The thing is, she probably will, wouldn’t she?”
“True,” Falkner waves a casual hand. “If you’re wondering, Whitney and Will are in charge of the costumes. That’s where this monstrosity came from.”
Morty nearly snorts the coke out from his nose, but settles with spitting it back into the cup as opposed to all over the keyboard.
Eusine laughs. “What’s so horrible about that?”
Morty looks at him with something like pity after exchanging a brief glance with Falkner. “Well,” he says. “Well.”
“Let’s just say that their tastes leave much to be desired, even for you,” Falkner supplies, noticing Morty’s lack of aptitude with words.
“Oh,” Eusine remarks, studying Falkner closely. “Now I see why. This thing you’re wearing really is horrendous. Was it made from curtains?”
Falkner kicks Eusine from under the table. Morty suppresses yet another laugh - he likes it when people get all flustered and ridiculous - and switches tabs to Microsoft Word and begins to type out the different ways in which he’d attempt to persuade both Whitney and Will to not land him into too terrible a costume. Clair he’d survive, somehow. Maybe use Lance as a human shield?
Morty got as far as “Three - Offer to make the silly costume myself?” before Eusine went on to look up from the ensuing battle with Falkner, asking him - “Now what on earth are you doing?”
“Praying,” Morty mumbles, and even Falkner stills to listen to any potential words of wisdom. “I’m trying to figure out the best escape route by devising strategies in MS Word, what else?”
“Well,” Eusine says, “I was hoping for something more epic, y’know?”
Morty massages his temples, an ominous feeling of dread growing in the pits of his stomach. “Hold on,” he sighs, closing his eyes and slumping into the seat. “I feel someone coming.”
“Who?” that was Falkner, beginning to worry if he had overstayed.
Morty furrows his brow and concentrates some more. “A dark presence,” he mutters. “I can’t really see yet, but - oh, shit,” his eyes snap open and he slams his Macbook shut, hoisting it in his arms and pretty much getting ready to hightail it out of MacDonald’s. “It’s Karen. She’s coming to fetch you, Falkner. Eusine, hide me!”
Falkner makes a mad dash to the counter to accomplish his mission whereas Morty flies to take his place, ducking under the table and into hiding. Eusine splutters, but shoves the guy as best as he can towards the deepest darkest recesses of the corner anyway.
And then Karen walks in just as Falkner strikes his deal with the manager. She raises an eyebrow at him, before noticing Eusine. “Hey, Eusine,” she asks, “Have you seen Morty anywhere?”
“Er,” Eusine says. “No, not really.”
“’Not really’?” Karen further inquires, just as Morty hisses an I’m screwed to Eusine from his position sandwiched between the wall and said Eusine’s legs.
“I mean, I saw him before I arrived,” Eusine manages a save. Falkner casts him a withering look over his shoulder. “And then after I said hi he took off in the other direction, towards the Sinnoh Academy. You know, since it’s right beside our school and all.”
“Ah,” Karen narrows her eyes in suspicion, but then shrugs, deciding the tale was worth buying anyway. Morty sighs in relief, though into his scarf to muffle the noise. “You think he’s there to visit Volkner?”
“What’s this?” Falkner suddenly appears from behind Karen, indicating to her that the deal with the school was settled. “Morty has business with my brother? I never knew that.”
From under the table, Morty rolls his eyes - he never had much to do with Volkner, the brother Falkner may or may not have got on with splendidly back in the days. On a random joint project the two were just randomly thrown together when it came to ‘testing out’ the haunted house a class had built for that one festival.
Morty was fascinated. Volkner was scared shitless, though he had sworn Morty to secrecy on the topic.
All in all, not much - just that Morty had something to blackmail the kid with every now and then.
Karen shrugs, flipping her long, silvery-gray hair over a shoulder. “Ah well, if he’s hiding I don’t suppose he’d let us take him even if we found him, huh? Come on, Falkner, you’ve dawdled enough. Clair’s going to bitch at me if I get pulled down along with you.”
“Says you who doesn’t have to parade around in one of the runway’s greatest disasters,” Falkner snaps, but follows Karen out anyway.
Silence ensues. There’s nothing but the casual buzz of everyday chatter from faceless others. Eusine nudges Morty, still hidden.
“They’re gone, you can get out now.”
Under the table, Morty heaves a sigh of relief.
TBC.
Next chapter feat. actual info on the play and more random crap.