buttsbuttsbuttsmate | (no subject)

"Why are you yelling?"

Jesus fantasy Christ, he's too tired for this shit. Malcer shuts the refrigerator door by nudging it with his hip, then pulls the spoon out of the grip of the ice cream and starts trying to pry a piece out. It's pretty cold, he should probably let it thaw a little or something.

"And I'm not putting on a light, we can both see just fine in the dark."

Ugh, this ice cream is being too difficult for his current ability to give fucks. Malcer sets it on the counter, it'll get better if he waits. While that's doing its thing, he goes to get a kettle and heat up some water. Tea-- that'll make him feel better.

"Why are you even up? It's... gods, I don't know, fuck o'clock in the morning."

"Am I literally the first drow you've ever met? I'm nocturnal, dude. You have no idea how much of a bitch it is trying to adjust to everyone else's schedules."

It sounds like he's bitching, and he kind of is just because he's Varis and he always has to be bitching about something, but he actually doesn't mind it too much. Either way the bitching seems to be out of his system for now. He came out here for a snack and by fuck he's going to get all up in that fridge and look for one.

"You mean other than your horrible sister? Yes."

Sorry, man, there aren't a whole lot of drow wandering around on the surface, and even fewer in politics in the capitol. Racism and all that, probably. It was hard enough being half-orc and getting anyone to give him a chance, and he tried to mitigate that by being as aggressively pretty as possible. Drow probably got it worse.

"I'm making tea if you want some."

Malcer has his back to Varis at this point, but should he look over, he'll still see two green eyeshine eyes staring back at him. Oscar's just turned around, and slowly a long black paw emerges from Malcer's hair, reaching down for the blanket on his shoulders. It has to stretch-- there's a second or two that the paw just sort of waves back and forth a few centimeters above the blanket's edge-- before it snags it and starts pulling the blanket up towards his head.

"Oscar, please don't."

"Well. Yeah, that's fair. They-- we don't really get out much."

He'd put the entire bullshit thing with his sister on the back burner, this is the first time in a while he'd thought about her at all. Thought about that little chat they'd had after their goofy ass battle. It finally dawns on him just why she'd been so amused when he'd asked about who the fuck had killed their mother. It's like he just got the punchline to a really bad joke. Like 'OOOH I GET IT NOW ooooh noooo I'll fucking kill her'.

Needless to say, he's not hungry anymore. He abruptly stops rummaging through the fridge and closes the door without grabbing anything, then realizes that Malcer's still talking to him.

"Uh. Yeah. Tea. Tea sounds good."

Another pause, "...Dude, is that your fucking bag?"

Edited 2018-09-03 20:45 (UTC)

Yup, sorry, Varis, your sister's horrible. It was all a big joke that she knew the punchline to and didn't want to ruin the fun of you finding out for yourself.

Malcer's getting the teapot ready, putting in the leaves and all that shit that you have to do while the water's getting up to a boil. He tilts his head a little in acknowledgement when Varis opts in for some tea, but not too much because he's got a goddamn cat bag using his head as a bed.

"Hm? Oh, yes, but he's not a bag right now," he says, like that's a sentence that makes sense. "I told you that Oscar is a mimic, right? This is what he looks like when he's not something else. Or, anyway, this is what he chooses to look like when he's not something else, I don't know if it's really what he's supposed to look like. Or if he's supposed to look like anything at all."

Another paw stretches down and the blanket is steadily making its way up the back of Malcer's neck, towards his hairline.

Edited 2018-09-03 20:55 (UTC)

It just makes him kind of want to stab her more, to be honest.

But it's also a subject that he doesn't want to think too hard about, so he's just going to try to focus on Malcer's neat cat bag. And to be fair, it is a sentence that makes sense given the circumstances.

"Yeah, you mentioned that. Do you uh, want help with the blanket thing? He wants your blanket. Hey, stop grabbing blankets."

You have no idea how bad he wants to pet an Oscar right now daaaamn.

"Would you? He'll keep pulling at it until it's up there with him, and I don't think that my hair can actually accommodate a blanket."

The fact that his hair can accommodate a tiny mimic is probably impressive enough, but he does have both a lot of hair and also very messy hair right now. He's going to have to sort through it eventually, like really get some oil and sort that shit out, but he's not doing it right now. That's a job for a Malcer who has fucks to give.

"I'd also rather not have a blanket in my face while I'm making tea, that sounds like a fire hazard?"

"Yeah. The last thing we need is to burn this place down before we leave. Okay goofball, knock that shit off."

He gently pries the blanket free from Oscar's dumb claws and settles it back around Malcer's shoulders. NOW WHAT, BITCH

"Thank you."

Now he doesn't have a blanket that's trying to gamely make its way up his head. That's a lot better, really, it was getting kind of annoying.

Oscar's dumb claws, however, move from trying to pull at the blanket to trying to pull at Varis' hand, but not hard. It's more like trying to grab it between his tiny little toe beans, so now there's just sort of... this black catblob stretching down from Malcer's hair, trying to capture Varis' fingers. Malcer's head is starting to tip back from the redistribution of cat weight.

"...Okay, I don't normally have to ask this, but what the hell are you doing back there?"

Varis 100% lets Oscar grab his fingers with his toe beans. Ohh noooooooo he's precious Varis love hiiiiim.

"Huh? Oh, sorry. He's trying to grab my fingers."

He will stop playing with Oscar to save Malcer's neck. But goooodddddd he wants to pet the cat thing.

"Could you just... take him out of there? He likes being tall but if he's going to mess around, it's probably better if he's somewhere else."

You can pet the cat bag, Varis. You could even hold the cat bag, it would be even better.

Especially since the kettle's boiling now, so Malcer's going to have to start handling hot water. No one wants him handling hot water with Oscar messing around on his head, that's probably a recipe for spilled water and burned hands.

"He likes to be tall, huh? C'mere, boy, I will make you the tallest."

He takes Oscar off Malcer's fabulous head and lets him climb all up on his shoulder. Now he is the tallest boy ever, congratulations Oscar.

There's some reluctance on Oscar's part to come out of his little nest thing that he's got going on in Malcer's hair, but a little coaxing draws him out easily enough. The prospect of being taller is apparently a cloying one for this weird little catbag.

Oscar slinks his way up Varis' arm, a little too fluidly for how even a normal cat moves, and gets up to his shoulder; once he's there, he starts investigating Varis' head, but is quickly disappointed by the lack of necessary hair to make another hideout. He has to be content with slinging himself around the back of the rogue's neck like a weird scarf.

Malcer, freed of his catbag hair accessory, is able to make the tea in peace, warming the pot with a first pour of boiling water, then discarding that and adding the actual leaves and water for the brew. Half of what he likes so much about making tea is the ritual of it, familiar motions done the same way every time for so long that it's all muscle memory now.

"How do you take it?"

This is the first time Varis has smiled at pretty much anything since they all got back from the archive. This is the best catbag neck scarf ever and Varis is in love with Oscar instantly.

Also, Malcer is a tea nerd.

"What kinda tea is it? If it's black, I'll throw a little milk and honey in it."

He's only half paying attention to Malcer, he is far too busy petting this catbag's adorable head.

Everyone seems to love Oscar immediately. It's his only defense, really-- be so cute and lovable that no one could ever hurt you.

And Varis, you have no idea how much of a tea nerd Malcer is. This is a can that you don't want to open, don't let him think that you know something about tea. He'll talk forever about this stupid hot leaf water.

"Yes, it's a variant of the Comte Gris blend," he says, getting a pair of his fancy little teacups to go with his fancy teapot. Because they're being fancy up in this bitch, just because he had five holes in him doesn't mean that he's going to be improper about his tea consumption.

"It has citrus and lemongrass in it along with the bergamot," he continues, fetching milk and honey and preparing the cups, because you have to add the milk in before the tea. Doing it the other way around is heresy and he won't be having it. "I've other kinds, though, if you don't like it. You drink coffee, so you might try a roasted oolong."

So basically be Naeris. That is impossible. Except I guess if you're Naeris.

Y'know Varis would just sit here and poke fun at Malcer for his tea nerdery, but 1, he's too tired, and 2, it's actually kind of charming how passionate Malcer is about his dumb leaf water. So what Varis is gonna do instead is keep his mouth shut for a minute and just listen to the tea chatter. Maybe he'll actually learn something.

Besides, it's something he can put in his mouth, so like, fuck yeah tea.

"Admittedly, I know a lot more about coffee than tea. My mom always drank a lot of tea, but that was decades ago. I don't remember like, anything, so I'll try whatever you toss at me."

He likes his leaf water, okay. His leaf water keeps him going on rough days, like today and probably the next few. Don't judge him when you put weird pieces of meat in your mouth, Varis, you'd be throwing a lot of stones in that glass house of yours.

"I can tell," he says, picking up the pot when the brew time's up. He pours into both cups, then stirs them briefly; his with just a little milk, Varis' with milk and honey as requested.

"I don't really like coffee much, but your is palatable."

That's, like, a real compliment coming from Malcer, stop the presses. He doesn't give a whole lot of time to dwell on it, though, since he picks up those dainty ass teacups and hands Varis' over to him. It's tea time, motherfucker.

"Sometime when it's not some stupid hour, maybe I'll make a few batches and see if there's anything you like." He stifles a yawn with his other hand; god, but being hole-punched by an eldritch abomination was tiring. "I'll have to stock up again before we leave, anyway. There must be a tea shop around here somewhere."

I mean yeah Varis literally has no room to judge, and he's too exhausted to be a smartass and do it anyway.

"I usually go with a dark roast, you'd probably like a medium better. You get more of the bean's actual flavor that way."

He figures it's at least almost a compliment. Malcer had been drinking Varis's coffee this whole time, after all. He seems like the kind of person who would just flat out say if he didn't like something.

"Man, it's gotta be expensive importing good tea and coffee out here. I don't really see them growing too much of their own in a place like this."

Malcer is exactly the kind of asshole who would directly say if he doesn't like something, without regard for anyone's delicate feelings. So the fact that he's been drinking Varis' coffee in the mornings with no complaints really is a compliment, even if it's only hitting the lowest bar for social decency.

"Maybe they have greenhouses or something? They're gnomes, I don't know, they make all sorts of things."

If anyone's going to have advanced agriculture, it's probably gnomes?

"To be honest, I don't really care how they get it, so long as it's available."

You know what, it's still hitting a bar. Good for you, Malcer, we'll make a decent person out of you yet.

"Fair enough, I guess as long as they have it, that's all I give a shit about. I need to see if I can find a place with good coffee before we leave, too. I don't wanna get stuck in the middle of some nasty dungeon and run out of coffee."

Malcer makes a vague noise of agreement as he sips his tea-- sweet, blessed, wonderful leaf water-- and goes back to his partly thawed pint of ice cream. It's much easier now to pry some of it out, and Malcer is exactly the kind of terrible person who digs out all the chunks of cookie dough first.

The prospect of running out of tea or coffee while out in the fuckoff wilderness is a horrifying one. They'll definitely have to stop before they go out, no one wants to see what Malcer's like when he doesn't have tea.

"How much do you want to bet that we'll find something horrible in that mine?"

Varis, on the other hand, might be easier to deal with without coffee. He's bouncy enough, he probably doesn't need to be loading himself up with caffeine.

The tea is good, though. He takes a sip and makes an impressed little noise before taking another. Nice leaf water, bro!!!!

"Knowing our luck? There's a like one million percent chance that were going to find something just fucking horrible. I mean, I'm sure we can handle it. We've handled everything else up to this point, I think our odds are pretty good."

"Okay, fine, we'll kill it. But, gods, I'd like a break from terrible shit for a while."

First there was the murdertournament, then goo men, then the Archive, and now more goo men and whatever the goo men were hanging out with. And, like... his entire life before he ever met all of you assholes, that was filled with a whole lot of awful shit, too. Malcer talks with eldritch abominations on a regular basis, but even he's got his limits.

They all kind of need a break from terrible shit. Someone's bound to go bananas from all this at the rate they're going.

"We never get to go anywhere nice, either. Hell, I'd settle for just about anywhere that isn't in the sun all the fucking time. Do you have any idea how rough this is on my skin? Super rough. Just fucking awful."

Well, this is the kind of shit you get when your DM is into Lovecraftian bullshit.

"Well, I'd say there was that time at the beach, but..."

One, it had a lot of sun, so not so great for the delicate drow flower over here. Also there was that whole thing where he got possessed by an elder god thing or something, that was a trip.

But the mention of skincare? Malcer perks up a little, you've just said the magic goddamn words, Varis.

"You do realize who you're talking to, don't you?"

He's, like, the skincare king. Do you see his glowing complexion, Varis? Okay, he's not exactly glowing right now, but he's got the best cared for skin on this side of the world. Malcer steps a little closer to him, just a bit into his personal space there, and beckons.

"Lean down a bit, let me see what we're working with."