(Untitled)
Who: Brock and Maladict
What: Utterly failing to find Joshua and being assaulted by fairies.
When: December 5th
Where: Out in the Paradisan wilderness, on the powered side.
Rating: Proobably no more than PG-13.
( Squishy and prone to hypothermia )
What: Utterly failing to find Joshua and being assaulted by fairies.
When: December 5th
Where: Out in the Paradisan wilderness, on the powered side.
Rating: Proobably no more than PG-13.
( Squishy and prone to hypothermia )
Another of these talents, as it so happens, is his ability to dress like a moron despite the obvious signs that winter was coming. Crazy Paradisa Winter, of course, means sudden snow and chill and all those things that squishy, hypothermia-prone humans Do Not Do Well with. And Brock is dressed in a denim jacket? Because he's a moron? A moron whose fashion sense still thinks he's in 1994, that kind of moron. But a moron nonetheless. Let me continue to stress how dumb Brock is.
Regardless of his incredible stupidity, or perhaps because of it, he spends a moment glaring up at the sky too.
"Goddammit. You're probably right," he said, then sighed, shifting the pack that was slung over his shoulder. "Maybe we'll get lucky and he'll freeze to death."
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Speaking of vampire mouths, this could actually end in a particularly horrible way, as Brock tended to be somewhat enthusiastic in his kissing. Case in point, he started using his tongue, and dear god Brock try not to cut yourself on her teeth please. Nobody wants that. Nobody.
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Still, she seems content to return that, her own tongue slipping against his as she tugs him closer with her freakishly strong for her size arms.
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Ha ha, whoa Maladict, settle down, that's too weird. Brock was used to kissing normal ladies, ladies that aren't stronger than him, which is not that difficult a feat since Brock had the whole professional wrestler's physique thing going for him. I mean he's crazy muscular, that's what I'm getting at.
But alas, the compromises one must make when kissing freaky vampire chicks.
So, what if Brock just started nudging her toward that tree over there, what if he decided that was a good idea? Maybe if he's got her leaned against something, she won't rip anything out of its socket.
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But ti seems the fairies are growing bored and fluttering away, so this fun won't be lasting much longer, nope.
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It's not so great when Brock slowly started coming to the realization that something was off, though. Something was just weird, and not ... right ... about ...
Oh.
He abruptly let go of her and backed up about a yard, taking extra care to get out of arm's reach.
"Sorry."
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Pro - he'd just kissed her.
Con - he is pretty much her best friend here and it was probably the castle doing stupid things.
Pro - he'd kissed her.
She huffed, looking up at the sky to the departing fairies.
"I really bloody hate holidays in this place."
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But Brock wasn't about to say this, since she seemed to be ... not murderous. Which was a definite plus, you see, as Brock quite enjoyed being among the living.
He followed her gaze, expression flat. "Yeah, no kidding," he said, and fished around for another couple of cigarettes. Lighting them both, he casually handed one over to Maladict. Nothing happened, this is normal!
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"They've probably hit the castle by now, poor bastards."
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Anyway, yes, not speaking of this ever again seems like a good idea. Brock still keeps his distance from her, though. You know, subtly. "You got any plans how to ride this bullshit out? Maybe we should start preparing safe rooms," he said.
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That is a wise move Brock. Maladict shrugs.
"I don't know, I guess. Until the castle forces us out with whatever stupid bloody thing it has planned this year. You know how annoying it is to be forced into a holiday you don't celebrate? A lot."
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Brock chuckled, and moved to place a friendly hand on Maladict's shoulder, but then ... thought better of it and just rubbed the back of his neck instead.
"Yeah, well. Look at it this way -- with the way this place operates, I'm sure someday it'll make us celebrate Hogswatch. Pigs everywhere ... whatever else happens on Hogswatch."
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"Not likely. It resolutely sticks to the Earth holidays. I'll just have to learn to live without," she pauses. "Doesn't stop me from celebrating Hogswatch by myself anyway. Pathetic as it is."
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"Seems like it goes by majority," he said slowly, agreeing. Most people in Paradisa seemed to be from Earth, anyway. Maybe not the same Earth, but Earth nonetheless. "Well -- how do you celebrate it?"
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"Give people their gifts on Hogswatch...or as close as I can get. It doesn't make it easier living in a place with less months than I'm used to," he glanced upwards, "Then there's just...general holiday stuff. Until I get depressed about doing it by myself and just drink coffee for the rest of the night. Kind of pathetic, really."
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"You could probably get some people to celebrate with you," he said. "Like ... you know, whoever. Tesla or whoever else." He certainly wasn't suggesting that Brock himself would do it or anything, of course not! No, I'm lying, that's completely what he is suggesting. Because Brock is a big soft-hearted gentleman.
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