[ closed ]

[gentrify]

WHO: Mickey Milkovich + The Once And Future Lad
WHERE: Arthur's pad
WHEN: uuuhhhhhhhh sometime near the present idk
WHAT: presents, this
WARNINGS: language, mickey, idk



[[ ooc: continued from here ]]

making we walk and shit damn
ur lucky u liv close

[ give it about ten minutes, because mickey is somewhat respectful of betty and not bringing his criminalish friends over to hang out and curse in her pure vicinity, and he'll be showing up mostly sober on arthur's doorstep, ringing the doorbell far more times than is necessary because he's obnoxious like that, and the doorbell actually works. ]

Comments

[hardcut]

yeah, yeah

[ If Arthur knew Mickey thought of him as criminalish, he'd ... be fine, because he is. Not here, granted, but it's such a part of him that even if he never talked about it, anyone with enough sense for that sort of thing would be able to spot it a mile away. But shouldn't he be trying to cultivate a different image?

Anyway.

When Mickey shows up, Art opens the door and nods for him to come in. The housemates are out at the moment, conveniently. ]

Get any blisters on the trek over? [ Friendlylike. ]

[gentrify]

Tons.

[ mickey announces, while slouching past his broski into broski's house, looking for the nearest comfy piece of furniture to flop his lazy ass on. it happens to be a couch. ] Where's my foot massage, asshole?

[ he is, at least, noticeably more together than the last time he deposited himself on a piece of arthur's living space. not a barely above teenage blob of angst and self-loathing, or, at least, he's managed to get that shit on lock enough that he can look more like a criminal than a kid again. ]

You gonna tell me where you actually went?

[hardcut]

[ It's nice to see that he's not dead. Arthur shuts the door. Not ominously or anything. ]

Disney World.

[ Alright, maybe a little ominously.

Disney is in Alabama in this world, not that Arthur knows it should be anywhere else. And you know what that means: guess who had previously never heard of Mickey Mouse prior to that adventure, and who decided that it would be extremely annoying (but also nice, you know) to inflict some namesake swag on his pal. This bitch, etc.

Laid over the back of the soda is a folded up black garment, which Arthur now picks up one end of and shakes out. Behold: a black hoodie with a bright cartoon mouse on the back AND front, enormous logo and name, complete with bright red mouse ears sewn into the hood itself.

Plop. Onto Mickey's lap it goes. ]

[gentrify]

[ mickey's eyes slide to this thing with a single brow arches high, looking slowly from the hoodie over to the douche bag that brought it to his attention. ]

You fuckin' would, jackass.

[ mickey snorts, shaking his head, but lets out a groan as he finally reaches for the hideous garment. this bitch right here. ]

You know what, I'm gonna wear this shit outta this thing. It's gonna be a fuckin' trend by the time I'm done. [ he needs to get him some native fans to start wearing mickey ear hoodies. mickey yanks it on, chuckling as he pulls his hood up, and raises a hand to show it off to arthur, with a middle finger raised. ]

You know Mickey ain't actually my name. It's Mikhailo, but that shit sounds like asking to get your ass kicked as a kid.

[hardcut]

[ Arthur laughs, pleased with the reaction - both that it riles him up a little and that he drags it on right away. (This isn't about cheering him up-- not really, anyway, he figures Mickey would react poorly to anything that could be misconstrued as patronizing, but it's something, at least.) ]

You look very cute, [ he says in a faux-sincere voice, as he heads to the kitchen. Over his shoulder, ] Mikhailo sounds fine to me, mate. Why's it a problem?

[ The fact that he can pronounce that is because he also speaks Welsh, which is fucking insane. Anyway, he yanks something out of a cabinet and returns, holding up a bottle of vodka. Not the one the younger man left in his room that one night (that they probably won't ever speak of), but a replacement. ]