maskormenacelogs | red solo cup, i fill you up

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red solo cup, i fill you up

WHO: Dorian Gray & Klarion Bleak
WHERE: Dorian's apartment
WHEN: some nebulous time after the 20th
WHAT: ERRYBODY IN THE APARTMENT GETTING TIPSY
WARNINGS: underage drinking, drunk witch-boys making bad decisions, immortals making even worse decisions in the first place.

It is very telling about Dorian Gray's mental state that at no point of the process did he think 'huh, this is probably a bad idea.' Make boozy eggnog? He could do that. Give Klarion some of the boozy eggnog? Why not! It was something that all people had to experience, and Dorian was perfectly fine enabling Klarion into doing really stupid things. That little voice of sanity that is supposed to say things like 'you probably should not get the underage witch-boy drunk because HE CAN DO MAGIC' had vanished for the evening.

Toby was off at his art lesson, so it was just Dorian at the apartment. He had made the eggnog the day before, refrigerated it over night, and was getting everything ready. He had a slightly nagging feeling that Klarion wouldn't bother knocking and would just teleport straight into the apartment (again) so he hadn't bothered unlocking the door or anything like that. He set the large pot of eggnog on the kitchen table, then went back to the kitchen to grab a ladle and two mugs.

Again, what could possibly go wrong?

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The answer, of course, was absolutely everything, starting with the fact that Klarion had no idea the eggnog had been generously spiked. This was going to be a disaster.

Dorian's suspicions had been correct, though - Klarion almost never bothered with knocking. If the host was already expecting him, then Klarion assumed he could just pop right in, and if his company wasn't expected, then teleporting directly into somebody's house was guaranteed to unsettle them. The only thing that announced Klarion's presence was the deep, thrumming sound of one of his portals yawning open, and when Dorian returned to the kitchen, he'd find Klarion leaning over the pot of eggnog, nodding thoughtfully at the cat perched on his shoulders.

"It certainly smells better than the stuff in the cartons."

"Because the stuff in the cartons is preprocessed crap," Dorian remarked, as he walked over to Klarion. He gave Teekl a small little scratch underneath his neck as he nodded towards the eggnog. Though it was effort and cooking (two things with Dorian was not a fan of), he could scrounge up enough effort to make boozy eggnog.

"Go ahead and ladle yourself out a mugful."

The baleful look that Teekl leveled at Dorian carried a clear message: 'Everybody gets one.' This wasn't strictly true (Shade was usually okay, for instance, and he'd let Hime get away with it because she'd blatantly bribed him with fish), but it would take some time before he warmed up to Dorian enough to allow him the privilege of petting or giving ear-scritches.

Klarion nodded pleasantly and served up his own mug. After the first sip, his eyes went wide and there was a long, long, long pause before he finally spoke up again. If he listened carefully, Dorian might have been able to hear a hallelujah chorus.

"... I believe I see your point."

Dorian had been on this Earth for over a hundred and fifty years. During that time, he's come to the conclusion that all cats are assholes. It would still hurt getting mauled by his terror cat even if the scratches wouldn't stay, so he only gave Teekl one scratch.

As Klarion took his sip, Dorian ladled himself a cup of eggnog as well, looking over at Klarion. And he knew that face. That was a 'holy shit, this stuff is ten times better than what I was expecting' face. Victory for Dorian.

"You learn these sorts of tricks of the trade the longer you're around. Help yourself to as much as you want."

"Oh, gladly!" Klarion was already most of the way through his drink, and going in for a refill. 'Victory for Dorian' indeed.

"... Right, before I forget." He set the mug down on the counter for a moment and fished through his satchel bag, finally coming up with a ziploc baggie full of month-old Halloween candy, and a packet of microwavable popcorn. "There! That's my end of the arrangement. I believe you were going to ramble on about body doubles or plague ghosts or something?"

Yeah, all of this is getting thrown away. Dorian can't help but shoot the ziploc baggie a dubious look before taking another giant drink of the eggnog. He's not drunk enough for this, time to get a little more boozed up.

"I wasn't going to ramble, I'm going to tell a story. And it's not body doubles, it's bodyswapping...although, come to think of it, I do have a story about body doubles as well."

Dorian's life has moments where it is honestly quite weird.

"Sometimes rambling and telling a story are one in the same, with old men. You never know when the senility will kick in." Dorian may have mastered the art of being a teasing jerk of an older brother, but Klarion had an older sister back home, and was well practiced at being an irritating younger sibling.

"Come on, then," he drained the rest of the mug, then picked up the bowl and set out for the living room, putting it down on the coffee table and sitting down heavily on the couch. Teekl leapt off his shoulders and curled up beside him, flicking his tail. "Stories are better told when sitting down comfortably."

He eyed the mug as he spoke, silently wondering why his legs suddenly felt heavy. Klarion had no experience with alcohol outside of its medicinal uses, and was pretty slight for his age, which meant that the booze was already sneaking up on him and starting to make things wobbly around the edges. Another drink or two, and it would hit him like a freight train.

Dorian can't help but roll his eyes as Klarion continues to tease him. He deserves it, especially since he's being a little shit, but that doesn't mean he can't be a little shit in return. He walks over to a living room chair, much more gracefully than Klarion, and sits down.

"Well, body-swapping it is. I went to visit a friend and long story short, I bungled any attempt at reconciliation. Returning home, I was told about Deacon Brody, a unique man who ran a very select shop with very select clientele. If one wanted, they could take a different body for a spin for a day, live in another's shoes, do what they want with seemingly few repercussions. I thought well, if I had burned one bridge, the least I could do is try and fix it. So, I let Deacon Brody work his craft and I woke up the next day in the body of a ragged little Irish soldier."

He's mum on how he got his body back (spoilers: it involves torture). Dorian has a feeling that Klarion will be okay with details of torture, but it's always touch and go with these sort of things. If Klarion wants to know, Dorian will certainly tell.

"Wait, so your friend was the... the soldier?" Was it getting harder to marshal his thoughts together? He'd had plenty of rest last night... "And you gave him a day in your body as... what, a friendly gesture? That's idiotic, with your people skills, he probably tried to throw you off a cliff."

Sorry Dorian, more alcohol meant less inhibitions, which in Klarion's case, meant even less tact than usual. He refilled his mug and took another sip, going a bit slower this time rather than knocking back a whole drink at once.

"Dorian," he started, voice eerily calm as he squinted at the man over the rim of the mug. "... What's in this, exactly?"

"My friend was a soldier, but not that soldier. I don't know who the soldier whose body I inhabited was and really, I don't care."

Dorian took another small sip of the drink, watching Klarion as the witch-boy poured himself some more eggnog. As Klarion asked the question, Dorian answered it as if it's the most obvious question in the world.

"Whiskey, I'm afraid. It's near impossible to find a damn decent brandy in this city."

((that icon, all I can see is the kermit face!))

The reaction was immediate. Klarion's eyes snapped wide open, and since he'd unfortunately been halfway through another sip of eggnog when Dorian dropped the whiskey bomb, he instantly choked on the drink and bent over double in a coughing fit. Teekl yowled, hackles rising.

"What?!" It came out as a garbled, wheezing screech, once Klarion had recovered enough to sit up again. His eyes were glowing yellow, and he was glaring daggers at Dorian with indignant, tipsy fury. "You... you wretched betrayer! You sabotaged the drinks?!"

Well, that was...unexpected. He boozed the kid up and he was called a wretched betrayer for it? Honestly, Klarion should be happy! He was broadening his horizons, exposing the kid to actual taste, and whatever other bullshit Dorian could come up with for a justification.

Unexpected and slightly terrifying because oh for fuck's sake, why are his eyes glowing.

"I didn't sabotage the drinks. That's simply how proper eggnog is made."

"You neg...negleck... n'glected to mention the alcohol!" The alcohol that was kicking in with a vengeance, from the sound of things. Klarion lurched to his feet, fingers sparking with magic, reared back, and flung a bolt of energy straight at Dorian's head.

... Well, in theory. What actually happened was that the magic wobbled through the air, unfocused and unsteady, missing Dorian by a few feet before it collided with the television set. The television set which had now been turned into a medium-sized halibut.

Klarion stared at the dead fish for a moment, groaned, and flopped back onto the couch with his head in his hands. Teekl sympathetically nudged his head under the witchboy's arm, and Klarion's fingers absently brushed against the cat as he grumbled to himself.

Edited 2015-12-03 03:33 (UTC)

As he moves out of the way of a bolt of magic, Dorian can't help but reflect that he really needn't have moved to begin with. The bolt of magic zipped past him, as Dorian turned to smirk and gloat at Klarion...a gloat which INSTANTLY STOPPED once he turned to look at his television-turned-fish.

"What the hell?!"

"I can' believe I missed at short range!" Klarion groaned, speaking more to the cat than Dorian at this point. The television had apparently been forgotten, or at least deemed unimportant. "Curse that stupid delicious drink!"

Finally he seemed to notice the look on Dorian's face, and scoffed, waving a hand dismissively. "Oh don't whine about it, s'your own fault. It'll turn back t'normal eventually, an' it's not as if there's anything good on television anyway."

"If you turn more of my things into fish, I'm taking away the eggnog." God, that sounded responsible of him. How terrifying. Responsibility was something that Dorian had steadfastly tried to avoid and yet here they were....

Here they were, a drunk teenager and the grown-ass man who knew better than to spring alcohol on underage kids. Dorian Grey: Responsible Adult!

"Promise never to surprise me with alcohol again, an' I won't turn your apartment into a seafood market." Klarion said evenly (or at least, as evenly as possible.). He narrowed his eyes, and more sparks crackled around his fingers. "You've seen what my aim is like at the moment, who knows what I'll hit first."

Age ain't nothing but a number, buddy.

Dorian can't help but roll his eyes, like trying not to get Klarion drunk was more of a hassle than anything else but, eventually and with a small nod, he gave in. He liked his house and his stuff too much to let it all get damaged, even if the turning into fish was only temporary. "I still don't see why you're being such a baby about this. You wanted proper eggnog, I made you proper eggnog."

"I am not!" The petulant tone probably wasn't helping his argument. Klarion was still seething, but the yellow glow gradually faded from his eyes, and the magic dimmed away to nothing.

"You didn't tell me 'proper eggnog'," yes, he did the finger quotes, "...was full of whiskey you idiot! I've never had it before, if I'd known, I wouldn't've agreed to this! I don't like being without my wits, why would anyone--?!"

"Because it's fun!" Dorian remarked, with a small laugh, as he shook his head at Klarion. At times, his innate childness just flared up past that grumpy witchy exterior. This was one of those moments where Dorian was emphatically reminded of Klarion's age.

"You'll appreciate it more when you're older."

"Don' patronize me." The anger had faded into sullen grouchiness by now, but Dorian was going to be in the figurative doghouse for a long, long time after this. Klarion could hold a grudge like nobody's business.

"In any case, we'll be taking our leave and going home." He carefully stood to his feet, and Teekl leapt into his arms, right on cue. "You have our thanks for the eggnog, as it were. Enjoy your deba... debauch... alcohol."

With a twisting hand gesture, Klarion opened a glowing portal in the middle of the living room and prepared to step through. The portal wavered as if it were in the middle of a heatwave, distorted out of shape, and promptly blipped out of existence. Further attempts at teleportation led to smaller, even less stable portals that were even more short-lived.

... Well. This was awkward.

Don't say it, don't say it, don't say it, don't say it...

"What's the matter? Can't seem to get it up?" Stop making sex jokes in front of the child, Dorian. Still, Dorian's grinning like an idiot, like he's telling a joke that only he knows the answer to. Klarion's failure to do...well, anything, was distracting him from the fact that his apartment was starting to smell disgustingly like fish.

Luckily, that joke flew completely over Klarion's head. Sexual innuendos usually did, stuff like that simply wasn't on his radar.

... On the other hand, he could tell from Dorian's tone that it had been a joke at his expense, so he turned the nearest lamp into a dead haddock on general principles.

"They won't stabilize, the stupid things! I can't... rrrrrgh!"

He's still trying his hardest not to laugh. However, as yet another of his appliances got turned into a fish, the laughter just stops. Klarion probably would be going for the couch next and this was his third couch (long story), he did not want another one ruined.

"You live in Heropa, right? I can just drive you to the Porter building and you can go home that way."

The fishy smell was starting to get to Klarion too, and he didn't really have the concentration necessary to keep the appliances transformed for much longer. The fish popped back into the TV and the lamp, respectively, although a bit of the smell still lingered.

"... Maybe in a short while," he relented. "The thought of a car ride is a little stomach-churning at the moment."

"I've got a hover-vespa," Dorian added in as if that's totally obvious. "That might be a bit less stomach-churning."

In all actuality, it would probably be more stomach churning, but Dorian doesn't know that right now.

"Really?" Klarion actually brightened up a bit, looking more enthusiastic about things than he'd been since initially discovering eggnog. "I've never been on one of those before!"

After a moment's consideration, he added "... Wait, do they seat two people?"

Dorian. Dorian, this was a terrible idea, Dorian.

"Of course they do," said with a little scoff. "You'll just have to hold onto my waist so you don't fall off."

This is gonna go so badly.

Later on, Klarion would blame this terrible, terrible decision entirely on Dorian and the alcohol.

"... I suppose it could work, if Teekl sat in my bag... he'd hate it, but I can't carry him, and there doesn't seem t'be much alternative..."

The cat, who had more sense than either of them at the moment, hissed furiously.

Dorian is going to blame this decision entirely on Klarion once they inevitably hit a tree or something like that.

"You see? Perfectly fine. I drive you to the Porter, you ride tandem, hop on through and you'll be home in a moment." He doesn't say 'what could possibly go wrong' but he's totally thinking it.

"Shall we?"

Excuse you Dorian, who is the one driving!

"... Wait, you've been drinking as well. Is it safe for you to drive, let alone in something that isn't an enclosed vehicle?"

Sanity and common sense made one last rallying attempt at being heard. It probably wasn't going to work.

"I'm older, have a higher tolerance and am immortal. I can easily drive on one cup of eggnog."

That's true. But he can't easily drive while a drunken witch-boy is riding tandem.

Klarion shared a long, thoughtful stare with his cat while Dorian made his case. There was an internal conversation going on there, but judging by the way Teekl jumped out of his arms and curled up on the couch in a snit, it hadn't gone well.

"... Let me rephrase that. Is it safe for us to drive with you?"

Oh. Right. Klarion had a cat, didn't he.

"Possibly? That all depends on if the animal's going to do something stupid like claw my leg when I'm driving."

Damn cat.

"Don't be silly, he'd never dream of it. He has self-prezzervation instinc's." If Teekl wanted to claw the shit out of Dorian (which wasn't outside the realm of possibility), he'd at least wait until they weren't on a moving vehicle.

With that, Klarion picked up the squirming cat, drained the last of his eggnog (hey, he was getting a ride home anyway, and it did taste good!), and unsteadily made his way back to the kitchen to reclaim the popcorn and Halloween candy. Dorian would be able to hear him arguing with Teekl from the living room.

"I know, you've made your opinion abundantly clear. It will be over and done with soon enough. Dorian, we're ready to go whenever you are!"

It's at this point that Dorian honestly starts to wonder if Klarion has some sort of brain damage. Bringing the cat along, alright, that's eccentric. Eccentrics brought dogs in purses, that was something that happened. But he seriously couldn't be talking to the cat like it could actually understand him, could he?

Dorian took another quick drink of his eggnog before yelling towards Klarion and Teekl. "Well come on, let's go!"

Witchboys gonna witchboy, Dorian.

"We're coming already, I just said!" Klarion fell into step behind Dorian, stuffing the snack food back into his satchel. Teekl hung from his other arm like an angry sack of flour, sullenly resigned to his fate. "Quit whinging, we don't have any alternative unless you'd prefer to walk home." Again, spoken to the cat. Usually Klarion only spoke to Teekl out loud when they were alone, but three glasses of boozed-up eggnog had thrown restraint to the wind.

Whenever they finally reached the vespa, Klarion would just stare at it for a moment, raising a slightly skeptical eyebrow. Now that he was seeing it in person, it definitely didn't look big enough...

Dorian locks the door behind the two and walks on over to his vespa, spring in his step. It's a metallic slate gray and looks very nice. Hopping on, he lifted up the seat compartment for a moment, pulled out a helmet, and offered it to Klarion. Dorian, noticeably, wasn't wearing a helmet himself.

"Hop on."

This was gonna suck.

Klarion blinked at the helmet for a second, as if he wasn't sure what to do with the thing. A sharp meow from Teekl finally prompted him to put the thing on and hesitantly sit down, carefully settling the cat into his satchel.

"... I must confess, I'm beginning to have serious doubts about this." It was probably too late now, they were doomed. "You don't have another helmet?"

"Immortal, remember? If we get in a terrible accident, the worst that happens is I get blood on my shirt."

It probably was not a good idea to talk about possibly deathly vespa crashes with the inebriated Klarion but ehh, whatever, the kid was macabre to begin with, he'd understand. After looking back to make sure that Klarion and Teekl were both seated and ready, Dorian cranked up the ignition, and started to drive towards the direction of the Porter building.

You see? He's got this.

Against all odds, it was beginning to look like Dorian actually had this under control. Klarion was more or less used to moving vehicles by now, but the ones he'd been in before had been enclosed, like cars or subway trains, or during one swear-in, an airplane. You couldn't actually feel the air rushing past in same way that you could on a bike or a moped, so he was holding on a bit tighter than was perhaps necessary.

... Still, this was kinda fun. As they picked up speed, Klarion threw his head back and cackled.

Good Lord, he's riding a vespa with a slightly psychopathic witch-boy who's enjoying this way too much. As such, Dorian starts to pick up speed a little more, just straight up gunning the vespa to slightly unsafe speeds. Whatever! It was making Klarion happy and really, that's what matters right now. Making Klarion happy so he possibly forgets about the fact that Dorian got him drunk to begin with.

Sorry Dorian, there wasn't much chance of him forgetting it, especially not after he experienced his first hangover!

... That said, ohboy, this was really fast. A bit faster than he was prepared for. Klarion clung on even tighter and the cackling died down slightly, because as much as he was enjoying the ride, Teekl really, really wasn't, and Klarion was getting a mental earful. That, and he was rapidly learning that high speed vespa rides didn't mesh well with being drunk.

"... Too fast!" It came out as a squeak, barely audible over the rushing wind.

What was that? All Dorian heard was a squeaky noise from Klarion. So, he slowed the vespa down a little bit, still going super fast but not going super fast, as he yelled out, hoping that Klarion would hear him,

"What?"

"Slow down or I may be sick!" This time he tried to yell over the traffic. Hopefully the threat of being in the line of fire would be enough to get his point across!

Yeah yep, Dorian hears that. And puts his foot on the brake, slowing the vespa about ten miles an hour in ten seconds. Which, slows the vespa down. But it also slows it down really fast, and probably a little too fast for comfort. Sorry, Klarion.

"Happy now?"

DORIAN, WHY.

The inertia jerks Klarion forward, and he whumps into Dorian's back with a couple of muffled curses (not literal ones, thankfully), all directed at Dorian's stupid face. He also moves one hand from around Dorian's waist to steady the bag, because Teekl has gone from grouchy to outright furious, and is yowling like a banshee.

"I should have taken my chances with the portal, or else hitchhiked!"

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red solo cup, i fill you up

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it's a pretty apt description, ngl

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