Silverah
There were no words sufficient to describe how happy Finn was to be spending New Year’s Eve back in Destiny City. It wasn’t so much that he’d been bored in Florida, or disliked spending time with his grandparents... it was more a matter of everyone else in Florida. After a week as the object of a high schooler’s unwarranted attention, hanging out with Tate was the most refreshing prospect he’d heard in ages. At least she wouldn’t expect him to kiss her at midnight.
He had arranged a small spread, nothing fancy - he was expecting Tate to bring alcohol, since any attempts by Finn to purchase it got his fake ID thrown back in his face. If Tate didn’t bring the booze, she’d have to be content with bake-at-home pizza, chips and guacamole, and ice cream (he had magic shell). Any and all complaints would be directed to the nonexistent customer service department and summarily laughed at. But after a week in Florida with no one his own age to talk to besides Jacob Frisch (with his totally illogical and unrelenting crush), Finn was so excited for Tate to arrive that he’d already set up the board for Clue.
He had Ke$ha songs. He had caffeine. He had one of his best friends set to arrive at any second and hopefully she’d be supplying the grog (assuming she’d picked up on his generous hints). At some time around ten-thirty, Clue would probably turn into Drunk Clue, and then life would be perfect.
Hearing a knock on the door, Finn stopped halfway into doing the Single Ladies dance across the kitchen tiles and shouted, “It’s unlocked! Unless you’re a burglar in which case it is definitely, definitely, totally locked, and you shouldn’t even try it!” (But, he told himself, it was probably Tate.)
He had arranged a small spread, nothing fancy - he was expecting Tate to bring alcohol, since any attempts by Finn to purchase it got his fake ID thrown back in his face. If Tate didn’t bring the booze, she’d have to be content with bake-at-home pizza, chips and guacamole, and ice cream (he had magic shell). Any and all complaints would be directed to the nonexistent customer service department and summarily laughed at. But after a week in Florida with no one his own age to talk to besides Jacob Frisch (with his totally illogical and unrelenting crush), Finn was so excited for Tate to arrive that he’d already set up the board for Clue.
He had Ke$ha songs. He had caffeine. He had one of his best friends set to arrive at any second and hopefully she’d be supplying the grog (assuming she’d picked up on his generous hints). At some time around ten-thirty, Clue would probably turn into Drunk Clue, and then life would be perfect.
Hearing a knock on the door, Finn stopped halfway into doing the Single Ladies dance across the kitchen tiles and shouted, “It’s unlocked! Unless you’re a burglar in which case it is definitely, definitely, totally locked, and you shouldn’t even try it!” (But, he told himself, it was probably Tate.)
romeo wilco
Her good friend meandering off to Florida had engendered more annoyance than pining. Her month shaped up to be a bit of a shitstorm; with no powered form, it’d all faded into the monotonous class, work, library, sleep class work pattern of her life before she’d awoken as Avalon Page. At least then she’d still had the break time of Battleship with Marlo (Super Sailor Pollux, she amended, with more than a little bitterness), but after some kind of stupid catastrophe up in New York he’d left without even saying goodbye to her face. She probably hadn’t been a lot of fun to be around for a few weeks, and when Finn had announced his departure for Florida, Tate had...
Well, she’d taken a leaf from Parker’s book. Maybe she’d stopped off at Kess’s for that after-Christmas (Festivus?) party, but other than that, social life shutdown seemed like the absolute best thing to do. She’d almost cancelled on her New Year’s Eve with Finn, too. Only her abrupt decision that there was a point where there was just too much Decemberists had driven her out of the apartment she shared with Parker.
“You know this is horribly illegal, right,” she said, elbowing her way through the unlocked (as Finn had so eloquently pointed out) door with one of the liquor store’s obvious black bags. A sound like clinking glass emanated from the plastic as she set it down; whatever she’d gotten, it was definitely booze. “You’re not leaving the house once one of these gets cracked open.”
Well, she’d taken a leaf from Parker’s book. Maybe she’d stopped off at Kess’s for that after-Christmas (Festivus?) party, but other than that, social life shutdown seemed like the absolute best thing to do. She’d almost cancelled on her New Year’s Eve with Finn, too. Only her abrupt decision that there was a point where there was just too much Decemberists had driven her out of the apartment she shared with Parker.
“You know this is horribly illegal, right,” she said, elbowing her way through the unlocked (as Finn had so eloquently pointed out) door with one of the liquor store’s obvious black bags. A sound like clinking glass emanated from the plastic as she set it down; whatever she’d gotten, it was definitely booze. “You’re not leaving the house once one of these gets cracked open.”
Silverah
“Why would I even want to?” asked Finn, eying the liquor store bag zealously. “I’ve got everything I need right here! Food, fun, my main babe - look, Tate! I’ve got Clue! It’s the deluxe edition! All the murder weapons are die-cast metal! Even the rope! And the character pieces are little mini figurines!” He grinned at her like an overexcited puppy, maybe of the golden retriever variety, waiting for her to say something judgemental. “See?” inquired Finn, gesturing to the fully-illustrated game board. “There are perks to working part-time at a toy store.”
The hefty employee discount being the major one, of course. “And I’ve got pizza - it’s still cooking, but it’s the good brand. I hauled a** all the way to Costco to pick it up. And guacamole?” Guacamole was a gift from the gods, if you asked Finn.
He rifled through Tate’s bag like a kid eager to see what their Christmas present was. Lofting a bottle of beer triumphantly into the air, he exclaimed, “SCORE. Tate, you are the best friend a boy could have. How are you a year and a half older than me, anyways?” Because he was pretty sure they’d both graduated from Meadowview the same year.
Never mind. It didn’t matter. Finn bounded around the coffee table and thrust a bowl of tortilla chips at her. “Anyways, I’m so so so glad you’re here. Florida was awful. Not my grandparents, my grandparents are awesome and I learned some really cool stuff-” (That being his ‘please ask me about it’ tone of voice) “-But the other people in Florida were awful. I got repeatedly propositioned by some seventeen-year-old kid. Have you got any idea how much this magical space warrior stuff ages us?!”
He hadn’t - and then he’d been forced to interact with an actual teenager again, and it had been awful.
The hefty employee discount being the major one, of course. “And I’ve got pizza - it’s still cooking, but it’s the good brand. I hauled a** all the way to Costco to pick it up. And guacamole?” Guacamole was a gift from the gods, if you asked Finn.
He rifled through Tate’s bag like a kid eager to see what their Christmas present was. Lofting a bottle of beer triumphantly into the air, he exclaimed, “SCORE. Tate, you are the best friend a boy could have. How are you a year and a half older than me, anyways?” Because he was pretty sure they’d both graduated from Meadowview the same year.
Never mind. It didn’t matter. Finn bounded around the coffee table and thrust a bowl of tortilla chips at her. “Anyways, I’m so so so glad you’re here. Florida was awful. Not my grandparents, my grandparents are awesome and I learned some really cool stuff-” (That being his ‘please ask me about it’ tone of voice) “-But the other people in Florida were awful. I got repeatedly propositioned by some seventeen-year-old kid. Have you got any idea how much this magical space warrior stuff ages us?!”
He hadn’t - and then he’d been forced to interact with an actual teenager again, and it had been awful.
romeo wilco
“I am not your main babe,” said Tate, but it was more a grumble of habit, and the habit was an objection to being a ‘babe’ more than a main anything. She didn’t mind being someone’s number one for something, but there was very little about the Amazonian criminal justice major that lent itself to babeitude, as far as she was concerned. Her height didn’t lend itself to magazine covers or the third page of a trashy tabloid, and the angles of her face were the kind that people could cut themselves on were they really determined. Definitely not babe material, therefore.
The Clue board was granted a cursory glance, but it was a game Tate had always regarded in the same fashion that a homeless person might look at a lobster fork: Fascinating, slightly curious, but ultimately without any specific meaning beyond the category into which it fell. “You did well,” she said solemnly, not bothering to mention that she’d gotten the beer for him and the wine coolers for her; he seemed to have already understood that. She pursed her lips at his question as she unearthed the rest of the alcohol and set it aside; hadn’t she explained it before? Maybe she hadn’t. “Family trip for a semester in junior year,” she told him after a moment. “Didn’t get as caught up as I should have. That plus some school changing and you have a student a semester behind her peers. That’s all.”
It wasn’t like she was subnormal or anything, she assured herself as she accepted the tortilla chips that were thrust into her arms. Just plagued by spectacularly ignorant parents. She let him finish talking, and said, “You’ll have to explain it to me,” in a sour tone of voice. “I haven’t been able to transform and fight crime since early November.” Was it really so long ago? She didn’t think about it much anymore; the wound seemed to have scabbed over in the time since its inflicting. “But what did you find out? Go on, tell me. I’m listening.”
The Clue board was granted a cursory glance, but it was a game Tate had always regarded in the same fashion that a homeless person might look at a lobster fork: Fascinating, slightly curious, but ultimately without any specific meaning beyond the category into which it fell. “You did well,” she said solemnly, not bothering to mention that she’d gotten the beer for him and the wine coolers for her; he seemed to have already understood that. She pursed her lips at his question as she unearthed the rest of the alcohol and set it aside; hadn’t she explained it before? Maybe she hadn’t. “Family trip for a semester in junior year,” she told him after a moment. “Didn’t get as caught up as I should have. That plus some school changing and you have a student a semester behind her peers. That’s all.”
It wasn’t like she was subnormal or anything, she assured herself as she accepted the tortilla chips that were thrust into her arms. Just plagued by spectacularly ignorant parents. She let him finish talking, and said, “You’ll have to explain it to me,” in a sour tone of voice. “I haven’t been able to transform and fight crime since early November.” Was it really so long ago? She didn’t think about it much anymore; the wound seemed to have scabbed over in the time since its inflicting. “But what did you find out? Go on, tell me. I’m listening.”
Silverah
“What?” squawked Finn, having been utterly ignorant that superpowers could be suspended. “No, I didn’t know that - you haven’t patrolled in almost two months?” How was that even possible? It just didn’t make sense to him. Since his awakening, he’d gone scarcely a week without powering up - whether to fight crime or engage in shenanigans. “How does that even happen?”
Just so he’d be able to avoid a similar fate.
“Anyways,” said Finn, flopping dramatically onto the couch, “My grandparents’ neighbor had her grandson visiting the same time I was there and he kept trying to...” He made a face at Tate, begging her not to judge him. “Proposition me, basically. Never mind that he was in high school and we’d met two days previously. I mean, really, it was gross. He wouldn’t let up but I couldn’t! He was like a little kid! All bright and shiny and innocent! And I’ve seen war.”
Never mind that he was actually dating a legitimate high schooler - it didn’t count if they were a senshi. And Tate would definitely judge him if she knew about Vindemiatrix. Finn wanted to spare himself the drama, so he bit his tongue. “I just can’t relate to it,” he shrugged. “That whole ‘doesn’t matter - had sex!’ mindset. It’s not my life. My life is Go to Class Go Home Save the World.”
He shoved a tortilla chip into his mouth as punctuation. Talking while he chewed, Finn informed Tate, “Also? You are so a Babe. You’re like, how tall? And you’ve got the whole androgynous cheekbones thing going on. You could be a model if you actually gave a s**t.” And he winced, anticipating that Tate might exact some kind of revenge on him for that.
Just so he’d be able to avoid a similar fate.
“Anyways,” said Finn, flopping dramatically onto the couch, “My grandparents’ neighbor had her grandson visiting the same time I was there and he kept trying to...” He made a face at Tate, begging her not to judge him. “Proposition me, basically. Never mind that he was in high school and we’d met two days previously. I mean, really, it was gross. He wouldn’t let up but I couldn’t! He was like a little kid! All bright and shiny and innocent! And I’ve seen war.”
Never mind that he was actually dating a legitimate high schooler - it didn’t count if they were a senshi. And Tate would definitely judge him if she knew about Vindemiatrix. Finn wanted to spare himself the drama, so he bit his tongue. “I just can’t relate to it,” he shrugged. “That whole ‘doesn’t matter - had sex!’ mindset. It’s not my life. My life is Go to Class Go Home Save the World.”
He shoved a tortilla chip into his mouth as punctuation. Talking while he chewed, Finn informed Tate, “Also? You are so a Babe. You’re like, how tall? And you’ve got the whole androgynous cheekbones thing going on. You could be a model if you actually gave a s**t.” And he winced, anticipating that Tate might exact some kind of revenge on him for that.
romeo wilco
“Please don’t tell me that you discovered the deep, dark secret of your sexual preferences and that’s the thing you wanted to tell me that was so cool,” Tate said, settling herself on the arm of the couch with the tortilla chips and an open wine cooler. (She wasn’t fussed about being classy and bringing wine would have added a whole new connotation to getting a friend drunk, anyway.) Mostly she didn’t want to discuss how she’d actually lost her powers--trusting trickster ancestor ghosts wasn’t a discussion she needed to have with someone who evidently already had a lot of ancestor trust issues. It probably helped that Nimue thought she’d be a better Knight than Nimue had been, compared to what she knew--what little she knew--of Finn and his great-grandfather.
“I miss that,” she said. “Did you know Marlo had to leave? I haven’t seen him in weeks.” Wretched weeks. Maybe she hadn’t wanted Marlo in the sexy way, but he’d been a valuable friend and she’d confided her plans for... well, everything, in him. Finn was a good friend, but he didn’t have the mercenary mindset that Marlo possessed. “Anyway, sex is just...” She shrugged. “So I don’t understand it either, I suppose.”
Her friend did get a warm smile at the compliment, though. “I don’t,” she said, as if the rather cavalier way she treated her hair wasn’t evidence enough. “Although I was thinking about it. There’s a club that’s hiring girls to sit around and look available, do you think I could do it?” She grinned at him for a moment and then made the trademarked Facebook duckface.
“I miss that,” she said. “Did you know Marlo had to leave? I haven’t seen him in weeks.” Wretched weeks. Maybe she hadn’t wanted Marlo in the sexy way, but he’d been a valuable friend and she’d confided her plans for... well, everything, in him. Finn was a good friend, but he didn’t have the mercenary mindset that Marlo possessed. “Anyway, sex is just...” She shrugged. “So I don’t understand it either, I suppose.”
Her friend did get a warm smile at the compliment, though. “I don’t,” she said, as if the rather cavalier way she treated her hair wasn’t evidence enough. “Although I was thinking about it. There’s a club that’s hiring girls to sit around and look available, do you think I could do it?” She grinned at him for a moment and then made the trademarked Facebook duckface.
Silverah
“Gross, Tate,” scowled Finn. “I did not have sex with the jailbait twink, thank you very much.” He couldn’t decide whether he was offended or not that she thought he might have. Reaching into the liquor store bag, Finn got himself a beer and cracked it open. “Thank you for the vote of confidence,” he settled, reaching for the guacamole. Tate could take that whatever way she wanted - the fact remained that he’d found the whole experience pretty damn awkward.
Scratching his head, Finn gave her an odd look. “I’m sorry, I’m not sure I know who Marlo is...?” he confessed. His and Tate’s social circles didn’t always have to be in lockstep, after all. “Describe him to me - is he cute? When would I have met him? Because if he wasn’t cute I probably don’t remember him, and if I haven’t met him then I definitely don’t remember him.” The latter of these statements seeming pretty self-evident to Finn. “Had to leave, though? Where’d he go?”
If Tate needed someone to mope with about the disappearance of a friend Finn didn’t even know, then he was game. And then he’d give her ice cream and make the world better. He had magic shell. That could make anything better.
Studying her face, he decided, “No, no, you need to push your lips out more. Pouty-like. And make your eyes really big.” Finn demonstrated, but his eyes were huge to begin with. He pouted his lips like a chimpanzee making a kissy face, but could only do it for so long before cracking up. “Just like that, that’ll bring all the boys to the yard,” he exclaimed. “I mean, it works for me.”
Laughing himself out, he sighed and took a swig of beer. “No, really, Florida was productive. I found some really cool genealogy things, family records my grandfather smuggled out of Nazi-occupied Poland. Isn’t that cool? I think they might trace the Babylon lineage - there was a crest on them that kind of looked like my ring.” He shot Tate a grin. “Wouldn’t that be cool? Let’s play Clue.”
Scratching his head, Finn gave her an odd look. “I’m sorry, I’m not sure I know who Marlo is...?” he confessed. His and Tate’s social circles didn’t always have to be in lockstep, after all. “Describe him to me - is he cute? When would I have met him? Because if he wasn’t cute I probably don’t remember him, and if I haven’t met him then I definitely don’t remember him.” The latter of these statements seeming pretty self-evident to Finn. “Had to leave, though? Where’d he go?”
If Tate needed someone to mope with about the disappearance of a friend Finn didn’t even know, then he was game. And then he’d give her ice cream and make the world better. He had magic shell. That could make anything better.
Studying her face, he decided, “No, no, you need to push your lips out more. Pouty-like. And make your eyes really big.” Finn demonstrated, but his eyes were huge to begin with. He pouted his lips like a chimpanzee making a kissy face, but could only do it for so long before cracking up. “Just like that, that’ll bring all the boys to the yard,” he exclaimed. “I mean, it works for me.”
Laughing himself out, he sighed and took a swig of beer. “No, really, Florida was productive. I found some really cool genealogy things, family records my grandfather smuggled out of Nazi-occupied Poland. Isn’t that cool? I think they might trace the Babylon lineage - there was a crest on them that kind of looked like my ring.” He shot Tate a grin. “Wouldn’t that be cool? Let’s play Clue.”
romeo wilco
Tate nodded. "That's good. I never would have been able to look you in the eye again without laughing my a** off." Honesty was the best policy, she thought, and that was why she added, "I didn't think you did." She rubbed her fingertips along her chin for a moment, and then sighed. Of course he wouldn't know who Marlo was, it wasn't like they'd sat down and discussed it at any single point, she supposed.
She shrugged. “I never introduced him to you. And... Oh, hold on. He was the senshi I kissed on the Surrounding,” she said. “Tallish, blonde. Really smart.” The brunette cocked her head to the side, and shrugged. “Attractive, I guess, as things go. He had to go handle a family problem in New York.” Her expression was a little wistful, but she schooled it into apathy long enough that he seemed to ignore it.
“That’s cool,” she said, leaning forward and giving him an interested smile. It really was interesting, tracking down where their ancestral inheritances had come from, comparatively. “I haven’t gone looking for where my... superpowers came from. But I guess my hands are more than a little tied right now.” She slid off the couch onto the floor. “So... let’s play Clue.”
She shrugged. “I never introduced him to you. And... Oh, hold on. He was the senshi I kissed on the Surrounding,” she said. “Tallish, blonde. Really smart.” The brunette cocked her head to the side, and shrugged. “Attractive, I guess, as things go. He had to go handle a family problem in New York.” Her expression was a little wistful, but she schooled it into apathy long enough that he seemed to ignore it.
“That’s cool,” she said, leaning forward and giving him an interested smile. It really was interesting, tracking down where their ancestral inheritances had come from, comparatively. “I haven’t gone looking for where my... superpowers came from. But I guess my hands are more than a little tied right now.” She slid off the couch onto the floor. “So... let’s play Clue.”
Silverah
“Nope, not ringing any bells,” said Finn, shaking his head. That Tate had kissed a senshi on the surrounding came as news to him, but he wasn’t one to judge - he’d been kissing a senshi all over town. “Sucks that he had to leave, but then these things do happen. I mean, I was doing family stuff last week.” The only difference being, he supposed, that he’d come back. Also, you didn’t see Tate kissing him.
(Not that Finn Derouen wanted Tate Konstantin to kiss him.)
“Did you, like, like him like him?” asked Finn, probing a bit deeper. Even if Tate didn’t understand sex by her own admission, she had kissed the guy and that had to count for something. You didn’t see Finn out swapping spit with just any old person.
Sliding off the couch, he interrupted the train of thought with an admission that he had to go get the pizza. “Set the board up for me?” he asked, slipping away to the kitchen.
Returning a few minutes later, Finn handed Tate a plate of pizza and flopped onto the ground beside her. “I want to be Miss Scarlet,” he declared, reaching for the red player token. “That’s okay with you, right? Because if you want to be her, too, you can fight me.” (It would be an easy fight and she would win.)
(Not that Finn Derouen wanted Tate Konstantin to kiss him.)
“Did you, like, like him like him?” asked Finn, probing a bit deeper. Even if Tate didn’t understand sex by her own admission, she had kissed the guy and that had to count for something. You didn’t see Finn out swapping spit with just any old person.
Sliding off the couch, he interrupted the train of thought with an admission that he had to go get the pizza. “Set the board up for me?” he asked, slipping away to the kitchen.
Returning a few minutes later, Finn handed Tate a plate of pizza and flopped onto the ground beside her. “I want to be Miss Scarlet,” he declared, reaching for the red player token. “That’s okay with you, right? Because if you want to be her, too, you can fight me.” (It would be an easy fight and she would win.)
romeo wilco
She shrugged, and said, “No. He’s my friend, but I don’t like him like him. He’s kind of creepily possessive when he’s dating, and besides, that’d ruin Battleship forever.” She let him head off to get the pizza while she picked up the pieces and set them up. It took a bit of work to figure out how to set up a three-player game like Clue; eventually she settled for splitting the cards between them. It worked out alright, since three cards were missing out of twenty-one. Besides, it was going to be more drunken conversational Clue than anything, she figured, since she knew her alcohol tolerance.
She held her hands up at shoulder height, and then turned the board so Miss Scarlett faced Finn. “I am going to be Professor Plum,” she said. The game was a bit complicated for her slightly fuzzy head. “So, you’re up first. How’re things going, relationship-wise?”
She held her hands up at shoulder height, and then turned the board so Miss Scarlett faced Finn. “I am going to be Professor Plum,” she said. The game was a bit complicated for her slightly fuzzy head. “So, you’re up first. How’re things going, relationship-wise?”
Silverah
“Battleship not being a euphemism for casual sex, right?” asked Finn, raising an overgrown eyebrow precariously up his forehead. A moment later, he shook his head. “No, no, that was a joke. Let’s play.”
To start things off, he rolled a five and began to advance Miss Scarlet towards the lounge. If he knew Tate (and he did know Tate, quite well, in fact), then this game was about to get exceedingly silly exceedingly quickly. It was just a factor of the alcohol and the investigative nature of the game - and Finn had every intention to encourage the silliness.
“Is your spy network that good?” he asked, reaching for his beer. “You know I’m in a relationship? You’re practically Mycroft Holmes. I mean, that’s not even on facebook.” Swigging, he continued. “You can kiss senshi, I can kiss senshi, too. That’s fair, right? I mean, I doubt we’re kissing the same senshi, seeing as I’ve got no idea who the hell yours is... But yes. I am dating my patrol partner and it is wonderful and he is awesome. Thank you for asking.”
Miss Scarlet slid into the lounge. “I suggest Colonel Mustard in the Lounge with the Candlestick,” said Finn, checking his cards.
To start things off, he rolled a five and began to advance Miss Scarlet towards the lounge. If he knew Tate (and he did know Tate, quite well, in fact), then this game was about to get exceedingly silly exceedingly quickly. It was just a factor of the alcohol and the investigative nature of the game - and Finn had every intention to encourage the silliness.
“Is your spy network that good?” he asked, reaching for his beer. “You know I’m in a relationship? You’re practically Mycroft Holmes. I mean, that’s not even on facebook.” Swigging, he continued. “You can kiss senshi, I can kiss senshi, too. That’s fair, right? I mean, I doubt we’re kissing the same senshi, seeing as I’ve got no idea who the hell yours is... But yes. I am dating my patrol partner and it is wonderful and he is awesome. Thank you for asking.”
Miss Scarlet slid into the lounge. “I suggest Colonel Mustard in the Lounge with the Candlestick,” said Finn, checking his cards.
romeo wilco
Tate gave him a look, figuring that the noooooo there could just be unspoken. Sex was alright, but she didn’t understand why it was such a big deal to others; why would she risk a friendship for casual sex? She rolled her eyes at the thought and took a bite of her pizza, informed him primly after chewing: “I prefer Irene Adler.” But really her observation had been downright Mycroftian, hadn’t it? She smiled at him, apparently buttered (or liquored) up enough to ignore the most recent incarnation of Irene Adler. Or even that of Mycroft. She watched him move pieces around, and she said, “I didn’t know it was a senshi. So I’m not quite a minor official yet, am I?”
Besides, this was America, land of the free home of the cell phone tap. If he was dating a senshi, she’d probably only know about the civilian side of it. “I’m glad for you, then,” she said, nodding solemnly. “Anyway, it can’t be that. I have those cards.” She held them up between her fingers, grinning a bit as she nudged Professor Plum into the Conservatory. “So, I’m going to suggest... Reverend Green, in the Conservatory, with the rope.”
Silverah
“Yeah, but Dominatrix Irene Adler?” he asked, tilting his head to one side. The episode wouldn’t hit file sharing sites until tomorrow, but Finn had seen enough previews to know this was a thing. “Or Rachel McAdams Irene Adler? You know, the real mystery of that movie is whether she or Jude Law is supposed to be RDJ’s love interest-”
Although Finn had a tendency to ‘ship Holmes/Watson all the way to the bank. He flipped mysteriously through his cards and considered life. “You know, I don’t think I could date someone outside this whole conflict - I wouldn’t date a nega, you know, but Florida just proved that I can’t even connect with people who aren’t superheros.”
He fanned himself with his cards. “Well, no - I’ve got a perfect defense of the conservatory, and the rope’s been in my possession all evening. There’s been no lynching on my watch.” Finn pantomimed hanging. “Reverend Green, however... He’s U-G-L-Y, and he ain’t got no alibi.” Finn pulled a face. “I say we tie him up and waterboard him untill he tells us where he’s stashed the murder weapon.”
Then, because it was now his turn, Finn rolled the dice, disregarded his roll completely, and slid Miss Scarlet into the Dining room. “Reverend Green, did you murder Mister Boddy in the dining room with the lead pipe? In cold blood? Well, did you?”
He took another swig of his beer and leveled a finger at the green playing piece. “Are you feeling lucky, punk?”
Although Finn had a tendency to ‘ship Holmes/Watson all the way to the bank. He flipped mysteriously through his cards and considered life. “You know, I don’t think I could date someone outside this whole conflict - I wouldn’t date a nega, you know, but Florida just proved that I can’t even connect with people who aren’t superheros.”
He fanned himself with his cards. “Well, no - I’ve got a perfect defense of the conservatory, and the rope’s been in my possession all evening. There’s been no lynching on my watch.” Finn pantomimed hanging. “Reverend Green, however... He’s U-G-L-Y, and he ain’t got no alibi.” Finn pulled a face. “I say we tie him up and waterboard him untill he tells us where he’s stashed the murder weapon.”
Then, because it was now his turn, Finn rolled the dice, disregarded his roll completely, and slid Miss Scarlet into the Dining room. “Reverend Green, did you murder Mister Boddy in the dining room with the lead pipe? In cold blood? Well, did you?”
He took another swig of his beer and leveled a finger at the green playing piece. “Are you feeling lucky, punk?”
romeo wilco
Tate regarded Finn with the look that one might give a particularly obscure piece of machinery, and said, “No. Neither. I will not be defined by my desire to get into Sherlock Holmes’s pants, since that was never even a thing which was going to happen in Conan Doyle. I am going to blackmail the monarchy and run off with my infinitely hotter significant other carting the entire treasury in my back pocket. Thank you.” She nodded, as if it were a sermon she’d delivered and Finn her unwilling layperson.
It came as no surprise that she’d discovered the first piece of the evidence, and she grinned at Finn over her cards as he made his guess. “Sure as hell wasn’t the dining room,” she informed him, holding up the card which represented that particular location. “This game is going to be very short,” she said, gloatingly, as she rolled her die for poor dear Professor Plum. After a moment, she considered her wine cooler.
“Next time we need more players. What’s the time? Oh, and, Reverend Green in the Billiards Room.”
It came as no surprise that she’d discovered the first piece of the evidence, and she grinned at Finn over her cards as he made his guess. “Sure as hell wasn’t the dining room,” she informed him, holding up the card which represented that particular location. “This game is going to be very short,” she said, gloatingly, as she rolled her die for poor dear Professor Plum. After a moment, she considered her wine cooler.
“Next time we need more players. What’s the time? Oh, and, Reverend Green in the Billiards Room.”
Silverah
Tate regarded Finn with the look that one might give a particularly obscure piece of machinery, and said, “No. Neither. I will not be defined by my desire to get into Sherlock Holmes’s pants, since that was never even a thing which was going to happen in Conan Doyle. I am going to blackmail the monarchy and run off with my infinitely hotter significant other carting the entire treasury in my back pocket. Thank you.” She nodded, as if it were a sermon she’d delivered and Finn her unwilling layperson.
It came as no surprise that she’d discovered the first piece of the evidence, and she grinned at Finn over her cards as he made his guess. “Sure as hell wasn’t the dining room,” she informed him, holding up the card which represented that particular location. “This game is going to be very short,” she said, gloatingly, as she rolled her die for poor dear Professor Plum. After a moment, she considered her wine cooler.
“Next time we need more players. What’s the time? Oh, and, Reverend Green in the Billiards Room.”
It came as no surprise that she’d discovered the first piece of the evidence, and she grinned at Finn over her cards as he made his guess. “Sure as hell wasn’t the dining room,” she informed him, holding up the card which represented that particular location. “This game is going to be very short,” she said, gloatingly, as she rolled her die for poor dear Professor Plum. After a moment, she considered her wine cooler.
“Next time we need more players. What’s the time? Oh, and, Reverend Green in the Billiards Room.”
romeo wilco
“The monarchy being all of this s**t,” she said, setting her drink down with an audible thump, which was more impressive because they were sitting on an area rug of some considerable proportions. “I will sleep with all of the royals and take compromising pictures of it means that it will all stop.” Which was somewhat rich coming from someone who had just confessed to not understanding sex, but then, eh. “Except Beryl,” she amended sweetly. “Those fingernails, ew.”
She shook her head. “It was the lead pipe, I suppose, since you didn’t have it and I don’t have it. But it’s not in the kitchen...” The auburn-haired girl flipped up the kitchen card. “So that leaves... the library, the study, the hall and the ballroom.” She narrowed her eyes at Finn, nudged Professor Plum into the library. “Reverend Green, lead pipe, library.”
She shook her head. “It was the lead pipe, I suppose, since you didn’t have it and I don’t have it. But it’s not in the kitchen...” The auburn-haired girl flipped up the kitchen card. “So that leaves... the library, the study, the hall and the ballroom.” She narrowed her eyes at Finn, nudged Professor Plum into the library. “Reverend Green, lead pipe, library.”
Silverah
“This game is really kind of pointless with two players,” conceded Finn, dropping his cards. “Let’s see if you’re right, Detective Inspector Konstantin.” He reached for the cellar envelope and slid the contents out. “Reverend Green, guilty as charged,” he declared, tossing down the suspect card. “Murder weapon’s a lead pipe, as expected, and he is indeed in the library, that sneaky b*****d. Congratulations, you are the master sleuth.”
He picked up the Reverend Green piece and held it up between them. “What’s an appropriate punishment for this vicious killer?” he asked. “I mean, keeping in mind that this board game still needs to be playable when we’re done with it. Also, what should we do next? I don’t think Anderson Cooper starts live from Times Square for another hour or so, but when he does - silver fox, oh my god.”
He picked up the Reverend Green piece and held it up between them. “What’s an appropriate punishment for this vicious killer?” he asked. “I mean, keeping in mind that this board game still needs to be playable when we’re done with it. Also, what should we do next? I don’t think Anderson Cooper starts live from Times Square for another hour or so, but when he does - silver fox, oh my god.”
romeo wilco
Tate nodded. “Bitches ain’t even,” she agreed, considering the piece that represented Reverend Green. Of course she was the victorious party. She was a sleuth. They were on the discussion of justice, which was as much up her alley as anything was. There was part of her that said they should set it on fire, but with the caveat of later playability, she couldn’t do that. Obviously. “I say twenty-five to life. We can put him in solitary on top of the TV. That way he’s under observation at all times, don’t you think?”
Comments on Anderson Cooper brought an eyeroll. “Sure, silver fox. Do you think it was a crime of passion? Should we give him the possibility of parole?”
Comments on Anderson Cooper brought an eyeroll. “Sure, silver fox. Do you think it was a crime of passion? Should we give him the possibility of parole?”
Silverah
“Of course it was a crime of passion,” scoffed Finn, pulling the guacamole aggressively towards himself. “He’s a reverend. Obviously, he was carrying on a clandestine affair with the deceased. It’s clear from the correspondence in Mister Boddy’s desk. If I had to assume - and I will freely assume, since the case is solved - Boddy invited us here tonight in order to expose the relationship to his closest friends. Reverend Green wasn’t ready to be outed and killed him.”
He popped a chip into his mouth and spread his arms wide. “Twenty-five to life on top of the TV sounds good to me,” declared Finn, “Possibility of parole... Let’s go ahead and say yes. It would be awful to let this ruin his whole life, clearly he’s just a terrified man of god in way over his head. In time, he may even love again... Insert horribly homophobic Law and Order statement about Prison being fun for gay men here.”
And with that, he reached for his second beer and began working the cap against the side of the table. This furniture had come out of his parents’ basement, and he wasn’t worried about wrecking it. “So, if the jury has made their decision... Detective Inspector Konstantin, if you would do the honors?”
He pulled the remote towards himself across the coffee table. “And then, perhaps, television?”
He popped a chip into his mouth and spread his arms wide. “Twenty-five to life on top of the TV sounds good to me,” declared Finn, “Possibility of parole... Let’s go ahead and say yes. It would be awful to let this ruin his whole life, clearly he’s just a terrified man of god in way over his head. In time, he may even love again... Insert horribly homophobic Law and Order statement about Prison being fun for gay men here.”
And with that, he reached for his second beer and began working the cap against the side of the table. This furniture had come out of his parents’ basement, and he wasn’t worried about wrecking it. “So, if the jury has made their decision... Detective Inspector Konstantin, if you would do the honors?”
He pulled the remote towards himself across the coffee table. “And then, perhaps, television?”
romeo wilco
Tate smacked Reverend Green on top of the TV, plastic rattling a bit under her palm. Lack of magical suit to patrol in didn’t mean she’d laid off the gym, or running. It just meant she didn’t actually get to use it, except to avoid getting winded on the stairs to her apartment. “Poor guy,” she said, sympathetically. “I always thought that religion s**t was a bunch of...” She searched for a word, rolling her jaw a bit. “s**t,” she decided finally, sitting down on the nearest flat surface. Her weight made the table creak a bit alarmingly, but she was feeling daring and ignored it. She was six feet and one inch tall, of course she was going to be ******** heavy.
“Anderson Cooper,” she said, “silver fox, natch.”
“Anderson Cooper,” she said, “silver fox, natch.”
Silverah
Finn pried his beer open, leaving a fresh scar in the side of the coffee table for his efforts. The groaning didn’t alarm him - Tate was half a foot taller than him. One would expect her to weigh more than Tinkerbell. “Kathy Griffin needs to get off this show, she is ruining my New Years Anderson Cooper gazing,” he proclaimed, slurping his beer.
“However,” he added, moving around the table to sit at Tate’s feet, “I am glad we agree on his Silver Fox Qualities, it’s good to know I’m Not Alone on this.” He gave her leg a reassuring pat, one that would probably get him shoved. It was good to be back in Destiny City, back in the comforts of his own apartment, parked on the floor next to his number one main babe (whether she’d admit it or not).
“Happy early new year, Tate,” said Finn, gazing glassily towards the TV.
“However,” he added, moving around the table to sit at Tate’s feet, “I am glad we agree on his Silver Fox Qualities, it’s good to know I’m Not Alone on this.” He gave her leg a reassuring pat, one that would probably get him shoved. It was good to be back in Destiny City, back in the comforts of his own apartment, parked on the floor next to his number one main babe (whether she’d admit it or not).
“Happy early new year, Tate,” said Finn, gazing glassily towards the TV.
romeo wilco
“I was mimicking you, dumbass,” said the babe in question, patting his fluffy head. It really was quite fluffy, wasn’t it? He needed a proper haircut, she thought, and probably would have mentioned it if only he hadn’t patted her. That netted him a shove, and then she went quiet to stare at Anderson Cooper and Kathy Griffin. Wasn’t some kind of popular singer performing later, she wondered, and then decided she didn’t care. Tate leaned over on Finn, her forearm braced against his head, and said, “Happy new year to you, too.”
