When it's snowing, there's not as many places that Karen can play. Today, she's sitting at one of the tables in the Hub because Rollie says he's coming to get her and then they're going to go and have lunch. She's reading about World War II again.
"A set of very big arms with a head attached," Gwaine replies before he even looks askance to see who's speaking to him. He turns and finds a young one, couldn't be more than ten, and starts feeling guilty. "If we're playing the who game, who are you, then?" He narrows his eyes as if in deep thought.
"...Princess, I assume. You look like a Princess."
Gwaine knits his brow and leans forward to regard her, trying to keep the space between them secretive. "You sure about that? Because I've seen my share of beautiful princesses in my time and you'd fit right in."
"You don't look very dead. I've seen dead people, they tend to be a lot more um, ghostly and you look very solid." Coraline said seriously looking at the man. Coraline considered poking the man just to check but decided to keep her hands to herself. It was politer and besides he sort of smelled funny. "Besides I'm not dead. So, you can't be dead."
"Are you sure I'm not just a handsome ghost?" Gwaine won't exactly say no to the possibility that he's somehow survived, but undead warriors are slightly hard to defeat when you're barely more than a mortal man.
He extends his arm out. "Go on. Poke. Let's test out this ghost theory."
"You're too bearded to be a handsome ghost. I think they have rules about shaving when you're dead." Coraline said simply. Coraline put down the glasses she had been collecting before very carefully poking him in the arm. "Definitely not dead. Unless you're a zombie, do you feel like eating my brains?"
"I've had a great many women like this beard," Gwaine says very seriously, giving it a light tug, searching around him for something like flowers or charms or anything to please a young one. "Though, I don't know that any of them were quite so beautiful as you. And beautiful as you are, I've not developed an appetite for your brain. I like to think I'm smart enough as it is."
Not entirely sensible, most of the time, but he's pleased with his intelligence. Most days.
Jo glanced over at the man who sat down next to her and her eyebrow shot up. Go figure, crazy guy just happened to decide to sit next to her. Such was her luck.
She took a quick sip of her drink before saying, "And that has got to be one of the worst pick-up lines I have ever heard."
"If you think that's bad, you should've been around for the time I tried to convince a woman half as beautiful as you that she was my destiny," Gwaine jokes without missing a beat, sliding on his stool to face her before lifting up a second flagon. "Though, I did have this sitting right here for you, so maybe it is fate."
Seriously? For a moment, Jo just stared at the guy half wondering where the island snatched these guys from. Maybe it was a special planet. She eyed the flagon and then looked back at the guy. "Fate? Right. This island is just full of that."
She did take the drink from him though, because obviously it would have been rude not to. "Thanks for this though."
"My pleasure," Gwaine rumbles, pleased and looking her over as he idly lays back against the bar, flipping his hair back as he took a long drink of his own flagon. "What's so fateful about this place?"
"Been there, done that," Felicia answers with a shrug of her shoulders. Her sweater is sliding off one shoulder and she reaches to pull it up. It's an absent gesture, one that if she realised that she was doing it, she'd stop. Drumming her fingers on the counter, she smiles at him. It's the smooth and easy smile, the one she practices.
Her glass is almost empty but she isn't in the mood for another one just yet. She'll wait a moment or two. "You're cute. But you probably already knew that."
"You break my heart," Gwaine sighs heavily as he shakes his head and drains the last of his flagon, signalling for another and affecting a severely petulant look when the glass isn't filled nearly as high as he likes. "Cute? What am I, your baby rabbit? What happened to strapping and handsome and provider of drinks to goddesses like yourself?"
"Awh, I hope I didn't break it too much." Felicia presses a hand over her heart, playing at genuine for the briefest of moments. Then it's gone, with a shrug and a laugh.
Sometimes it is just too easy to play this game. It doesn't make it any less fun, but there is something to be said about working for it. "How about handsome charmer? Adonis? Something like that? And I do like to cuddle my baby rabbits, for the record."
"So long as you cuddle them to your bosom, I might not find cause to complain," Gwaine admits, a flicker of a look lower before he rights his vision and is all giddy smiles. "I've just won an impossible battle. What sort of reward do you think that earns me?"
Kara's eyes were already rolling by the time she turned and actually looked at her companion. Well now. Strike the asshole and replace it with hotass, thank you very frakking much.
She wasn't one to linger long near the bar, the quick message to Neil she'd come for already dispensed, but she signaled for a glass of water. Perhaps she'd stay after all.
"Is that so?" she replied, turning to face him. "And where is this Percival?"
"Oh, I'm sure he's already letting the happy citizens of Camelot hang off his arms," Gwaine jokes, his smile growing even wider when he sees his companion. "Although, he's the sore loser in this case. What on earth have I done to earn the company of such a beautiful work of art? Don't tell me," he insists, mead in hand. "You're my very own personal angel."
Kara laughed in his face, though not unkindly, the amusement in her answering grin as obvious as it was genuine. "Wow, does that line usually work for you?" she asked, tipping water down her throat.
"Oh, roughly on one in three women," Gwaine has to admit with a grin to match the woman's. "When in doubt, I typically just drench myself in water or accidentally lose my shirt and let my body do the rest of the talking for me. Then, it always does help to add a bit of charm," he admits with a sly grin. "Can I buy you a drink?"
Comments 97
"Who's Percival?"
Reply
"...Princess, I assume. You look like a Princess."
Reply
"I'm not a Princess."
But she is eight and does like the idea of being one. So she doesn't stop listening, not yet.
Reply
Reply
Reply
He extends his arm out. "Go on. Poke. Let's test out this ghost theory."
Reply
Reply
Not entirely sensible, most of the time, but he's pleased with his intelligence. Most days.
Reply
She took a quick sip of her drink before saying, "And that has got to be one of the worst pick-up lines I have ever heard."
Reply
Reply
She did take the drink from him though, because obviously it would have been rude not to. "Thanks for this though."
Reply
Reply
Her glass is almost empty but she isn't in the mood for another one just yet. She'll wait a moment or two. "You're cute. But you probably already knew that."
Reply
Reply
Sometimes it is just too easy to play this game. It doesn't make it any less fun, but there is something to be said about working for it. "How about handsome charmer? Adonis? Something like that? And I do like to cuddle my baby rabbits, for the record."
Reply
Reply
She wasn't one to linger long near the bar, the quick message to Neil she'd come for already dispensed, but she signaled for a glass of water. Perhaps she'd stay after all.
"Is that so?" she replied, turning to face him. "And where is this Percival?"
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Leave a comment