Strokes of Genius, Saturday (7/31)

[thismaskiwear]

The master class in drawing characters she'd taken in San Diego last week had turned out to be more useful than Katchoo had anticipated; she'd been thinking it would turn out to be something pretentious and annoying where she'd end up doing her own thing and ignoring the teacher

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[bitch_prince]

Arthur's appearances might not have been as predictable as they had been before for several reasons, but still: there the phone was, ringing.

[bitch_prince]

There was a snort on the other end of the line. "No, that would be me sighing of boredom as the next noble got it into his head that he absolutely needed to perform a speach," he provided. "Good god, these people are boring. Nothing ever gets done, either."

[thismaskiwear]

"And yet you haven't just reached over the table and knocked their heads together yet." A beat, and the frantic scratch of pencil on paper just might be barely audible over the line. "Have you?"

[bitch_prince]

"Of course not," Arthur said, poking at a tree with a knife as he spoke. "That would be improper conduct, and best left to one's imagination." If ever there was a time he could use some of Katchoo's drawings to fall back on to keep himself from dying of the complete and utter waste of his time.

[thismaskiwear]

"You tryin' to tell me you have an imagination?" Katchoo asked, and sketched stick-figure Arthur with a big thought bubble of throttling stick-figure nobles over his head as he sat (upright, thank you, not slouched; there was only so far she'd go to bank on his inability to kill her over time and space with a thought) in a stick-figure meeting. "Wait, no, I've actually, ahem, heard enough to not be surprised."

Through a closet door. You know.

[bitch_prince]

Arthur had been all ready to speak up and defend his bloody imagination, when--

"What are you-- ...Katina!"

...The implications of that seeped on into his skull.

(Also, Merlin was the one with the imagination. Shh.)

[thismaskiwear]

He couldn't see the Fistpump of Victory from there, which was simultaneously a bonus and really just too damn bad.

"Hey, now. I didn't say anything about that, did I?"

Oh, come on, there was only so much she could accurately surmise from the inside of the closet.

[bitch_prince]

"Yes-- well--"

Splutter, Arthur, splutter! And try not to think of anything worse she could have seen!

"...That was private. Though I can see where you'd want to remember it." Oh, yeah. Bluster. That always worked.

[thismaskiwear]

"For the million ways I can apply the same techniques. Yeah," Katchoo said dryly.

Mwahahaha. Spluttering. Spluttering led to private chortling.

"How're Merlin and Morgana doin', anyway?"

[bitch_prince]

"I do not want to think about your tumbles, Katina," said Arthur, from who that was only partly a lie. He made a face at the phone. "And they're fine as always, of course. Utterly incompetent, in Merlin's case, and a complete pain in the arse in Morgana's."

[thismaskiwear]

". . . and you still miss me enough to call. Aww. Gee, that's sweet."

She, for the record, didn't believe him on the claim of not wanting to think about it.

[bitch_prince]

Of course she didn't. Difficult wench.

"I don't miss you," he replied, "I'm just trying to make sure you don't get caught in some other dimension again. God knows you've got a knack for it."

[thismaskiwear]

"Nah," Katchoo -- who didn't believe him on that either, just to continue the trend of being difficult (or, you know, considering him a friend, one or the other) -- assured him. "Although I hafta say, I'm not entirely convinced Comic-Con wasn't some kind of dimensional dogpile itself."

[bitch_prince]

"...Comic-Con?"

Go ahead. Blow his mind.

[thismaskiwear]

Ooooh, don't tell her these things, Arthur.

"Imagine, if you will -- since you insist you can -- a hundred thousand frikkin' people crammed into downtown San Diego to watch people talk about movies and comic books and stuff. And spend a hell of a lot of money. There was a big Bitterwoman reunion event goin' on this year so I took Francine down."

Said as if Katchoo hadn't dorked about it as much as Francine had, La la la.

[bitch_prince]

"Sounds..." Rather like the markets generally held in his father's honour. "...Horrifying," he said, making a face. "I do hope there was plenty of ale to make it worthwhile."