A BEAUTIFUL, SELF-DESTRUCTIVE MARRIAGE OF TWENTY-ONE YEARS~!36_24_35September 18 2010, 12:36:43 UTC
Tifa slipped in and out of consciousness in their big ol' marriage bed, covers flung over her head to keep out the light that aggravated her throbbing hang over, more than a little reluctant to leave. She was far more interested in the alcoholic-induced dreams of what could have been.
The spot by Tifa is empty, though there's an indention of someone who'd been sleeping there a couple hours earlier. Suddenly, though, there's a knock on the door before it cracks open.
"Morning, honey!" It's Claude's cheerful voice, and soon he's peeking into the room. "How are you feeling? I brought you breakfast."
"Oh..." Eventually the sheets are peeled off her face and she makes contact with Claude and his tray from bloodshot eyes. "Thanks..." Her voice had long since lost its womanly charms. It is the voice of an alcoholic now.
"I'm feelin' thirsty..." Loosely translated, it meant she needed to get her vodka on sooner rather than later. "Did I snore too bad last night?" A large helping of booze right before bed usually encourages it.
[Sprawled in an armchair in his signature style, watching the screen with the utmost intensity. But something's missing. Oh, right.] Honey, could you get me a beer?
[Spock had been quite preoccupied with his tidy pile of research materials for his latest project. Although the television might have been a nuisance for some, his focus and discipline do not allow him to become distracted.]
[Even so, he looks up when Jim addresses him with that curious human term of affection, followed by a request for beer. Spock's eyebrows furrow ever so faintly, and his response is immediate, and almost dead-pan.]
What? Come on, I never ask you for anything. [This is a blatant lie, although in his defense, at least half of these times happened while on duty. As for the other half, well... being married to Jim Kirk can be most kindly described as "demanding."
Although Spock probably has a few other choice words (with longer syllable counts and even more dry understatement). For Jim's part, being married to a half-Vulcan for so long means that he can now distinguish between each subtle variation of lineface. Where most normal people would desist upon receiving this particular one, Jim has turned in his chair and is attempting to focus the full force of his blue eyes and easy smile on Spock. THERE ARE LENS FLARES AND EVERYTHING.]
[Somehow it happened. It probably took years and a small amount of bludgeoning with a cluebat to get the idea through that someone liked him enough to actually consider dating him, let alone everything else, but Brainiac 5 is older and married.]
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"Morning, honey!" It's Claude's cheerful voice, and soon he's peeking into the room. "How are you feeling? I brought you breakfast."
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"I'm feelin' thirsty..." Loosely translated, it meant she needed to get her vodka on sooner rather than later. "Did I snore too bad last night?" A large helping of booze right before bed usually encourages it.
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[Even so, he looks up when Jim addresses him with that curious human term of affection, followed by a request for beer. Spock's eyebrows furrow ever so faintly, and his response is immediate, and almost dead-pan.]
No.
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Although Spock probably has a few other choice words (with longer syllable counts and even more dry understatement). For Jim's part, being married to a half-Vulcan for so long means that he can now distinguish between each subtle variation of lineface. Where most normal people would desist upon receiving this particular one, Jim has turned in his chair and is attempting to focus the full force of his blue eyes and easy smile on Spock. THERE ARE LENS FLARES AND EVERYTHING.]
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Have you seen my TARDIS key? I can't seem to find where I left it.
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I didn't think you needed it anyway, did you? Doesn't it open when you snap your fingers now?
[He's certain he's seen that once at least, when the Doctor was showing off.]
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[Even though he was obviously planning on leaving, Brainiac 5's project caught his interest. He steps inside; his trip can wait a bit.]
And what's this, then? New project? [He pulls his specs from his coat and puts them on, leaning in to get a closer look.]
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I think I've about perfected it.
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Engh. Close enough.
[Like he would compliment it. Kanda.]
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Get ready for a lifetime of weird hells...?]
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[Okay, he chooses every night. But some idiots constantly raid their fridge.]
Perhaps ham.` What do you think?
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...
Rummages around a little.] Um... I think Ken ate it all... We'll have to go to the store again. [Pause] There are a lot of pineapples in here though.
[But she wrinkles her nose at that. Ew.]
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