Ninth Eight8all [Video/action OtherFather's House]

[8etterl8]

[The video feed clicks on and you can see the hall outside one of the rooms in Other Father's house.]

You guys have to see this. [It's Vriska's voice, in a hushed whisper.]

You all know Mr.Cool-Mc-Strider. But do you know what he does when he's not being a 'chill-as-fuck-dude', his words.

[Her hand reaches out and pushes the door open. Inside, nestled on the bottom bunk, looks like a pile of Pokémon. There are multiple Ninetails, though it's hard to tell how many because you can hardly see where one begins and another ends. There looks to be three heads though. There's a Flareon snuggled in there, giving the whole ensemble a splash of color. Not to mention the boy underneath, fast asleep, mouth open, glasses slightly askew, a light snoring sound coming from him. The bit of sweater you can see past all the fluffy fire-types resembles a Vulpix. This boy, of course being the aforementioned Mr.Cool-Mc-Strider, chill-as-fuck-dude, Dave Strider.

Resting atop his head is a little Torchic, watching Vriska and the 'gear. It makes a little peeping sound and Vriska shushes it.

She moves the gear in, trying to get a close-up on his face.]

Ha ha! Look how fucking cute he is. [She's snickering quietly now. Another angled shot of the sleeping Poké-pile. Unfortunately for Vriska the Torchic is a little too excited and keeps making noises at her, now starting to bounce, on top of the blonde's head.]

Hey! No-- stop that!

[Too late.] hhngh... Vriska... ?

Shit!

[Dave fixes his shades and looks at her, before he notices the red light on the gear, meaning "record".] Oh fuck no.

[He reaches for the the 'gear, hand covering the feed, and a struggle is briefly heard in the background before the video is shut off entirely.]



[[ooc: Replies will come from both parties.]]

Comments

Video;

[strideways]

Let's go with 'Padawan,' since we're talking photography apprenticeship.

Video;

[breedslilacs]

Ah yes. Classic choice. How could I have forgotten such an option?

Video;

[strideways]

So you're suggesting I get Vriska to take pictures of me while I sleep? Bad enough I have to sleep in the same room with her; no need to give her a camera, too.

Video;

[breedslilacs]

We wouldn't have to give her a camera. We did, after all, give you a brand new professional one for your birthday, didn't we? She could simply borrow that. I believe I need a "Book of Strider" to slip into my bag next to the wonderful album you gave me of John.

Video;

[strideways]

You're seriously suggesting I let her borrow my... camera? [ 'Camera,' not 'baby,' Dave. Careful. ] I'd rather do full body suspension from my nipples.

Video;

[breedslilacs]

[[Yes, careful indeed. Because if you hadn't noticed, her eyes narrowed at that odd pause you just took. In that 'oho, what are you hiding?' sort of way.]]

I suppose that is like asking to remove a limb, isn't it?

Video;

[strideways]

It's like asking to remove a limb and expect it returned safely. Just ain't gonna happen.

[ And check these sassy eyebrows, Rose. Ain't gonna happen. ]

Video;

[breedslilacs]

Then I suppose that is not an option, and we will have to find some other form of photographer device for her to use.

Video;

[strideways]

Glad we agree on that point.

Could always have John buy her a camera. She'd use it for blackmailing everyone but him, probably.

Video;

[breedslilacs]

I'm sure she'd blackmail him at some point too, but this is true.

Video;

[strideways]

Yeah, you know, I'm not totally sure he's off-limits for her as far as blackmail goes. [ Thoughtful. He and Vriska could team up against John someday. ]

Video;

[breedslilacs]

It would likely be mostly harmless though. They are, after all, moirails.

Video;

[strideways]

Still, there's potential there. [ Dave rubs his chin in a parody of villainous thought. ]

Video;

[breedslilacs]

Something tells me that perhaps the two of you need to be separated.

Video;

[strideways]

If only. This chick's been up on my junk since she got here. She's basically a fucking hoarder; she's all about my junk. Got her apartment stocked with it, you gotta wiggle your ass around past piles and towers and boxes of it just to get from the kitchen to the couch, and then there ain't nowhere to sit, anyway, 'cause guess what's got front row seats to the TV you can barely see behind all that shit? My junk.

Video;

[breedslilacs]

Well then maybe what this calls for is an intervention. I will alert John of the junk hoarding problem. He should be able to sort it out and return at least half of it.

Video;

[strideways]

And keep the other half to divvy up between the two of you? Cute.

Video;

[breedslilacs]

Where else would it go? Unless you would prefer all of that junk to be taking up the space within your apartment instead.

Video;

[strideways]

Well, it's my junk.

Video;

[breedslilacs]

Does that mean you wouldn't want to share with your Strider fangirls?

Video;

[strideways]

Not without turning a profit. You ladies gonna pay me for it?

Video;

[breedslilacs]

I take it keeping a roof over your head in the next town doesn't count, does it?

Video;

[strideways]

I could bat my eyelashes and jut my ass out for a place to stay, Lalonde. Try harder.

Re: Video;

[breedslilacs]

Really? Perhaps I should cut you off then. No hotel room, no food, no more warm clothing. Certainly no more paying for dates you want to take friends on. If it's really as easy as batting your eyelashes, that won't be a problem, correct?

Video;

[strideways]

[ A brief dismayed expression flits across his face before he chases it away with a shrug. ]

Nope. Somebody'd take me in.