fandomtownies | Strokes of Genius, Wednesday (February 10)

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Strokes of Genius, Wednesday (February 10)

Katchoo wasn't awake enough to figure out exactly how she'd splurged on a coffee pod brewing system this morning when all she'd been trying to do was make it to the Perk and get herself a frikkin' latte. Give her time -- once she figured out how to use the damn thing, and had put it to use three or four times, she might be awake enough to remember.

For the record, it had something to do with her longstanding minor feud with the Wednesday morning barista, a weird dream involving Clocky growing big enough to roll over Tokyo, and a freakishly cheery rickshaw driver.

Katchoo really had no idea, but the empty box was out on the counter, the instructions atop the cash register and ignored, and the machine set up in the corner.

Just one problem. She'd forgotten to bring a mug.

[OOC: I have never done this. Really. The OCD is wherever the truth of my previous statement went. Post is open!]

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Arthur came in later than usual, snow in his hair and a mildly disgruntled expression on his face. "At least in Albion," he announced, upon entry, "It has the decency to just rain most of the time."

...Be glad you weren't in Britain a few weeks back, Arthur.

[[ this comment brought to you by NOT AT ALL method rp ]]

Well, if that wasn't a nicely timed diversion from glaring balefully at the coffee machine, as if it was the machine's fault (it so totally was) that Katchoo didn't have a mug.

"Decency, Pendragon," she drawled in response, "is completely overrated. So is rain."

"Not if you want the crops to grow," he said, shaking his head in lieu of just brushing the snow out of it.

Possibly instinct. Possibly just spite.

Katchoo had left a nice puddle herself when she came in, so the snow would eventually melt into good company. It was still enough of an excuse for her to redirect the baleful look at Arthur, though.

"Snow melts," she pointed out. "Eventually. I'd offer you coffee, but I don't have anything to put it in."

"Tried snow?" Arthur offered flippantly, and rather than lean on his usual spot actually took the effort of hopping onto it. Away from the wet floor.

"Yeah, that'll work really well," Katchoo retorted with a muffled snicker. "'course, you could just stick your head under the machine and push the button."

Arthur shot her a slight, mostly-sarcastic smile. "I'll leave such experiments to more careless folk such as yourself," he said. "How's business?"

Katchoo spun a mechanical pencil around on its tip and watched it clatter to the counter. "Oh, you know, same ol', same ol'. Boring as hell. My winning personality's too much for 'em to handle."

"No wonder the shop falls all over itself in misery every other week," he said, cheerfully. "You're not even painting."

Katchoo picked up the pencil and mimed jabbing at him. "Too goddamn cold for it."

Plus her creative energies had been, uh, let's say siphoned off into other less public outlets. Ahem.

"You just miss squinting at crap and asking me what the hell it is. Admit it."

"Well, it's that, or talk about your personal life again," Arthur said, wiggling his eyebrows at her, "And trust me, no one wants that."

Oh holy god, did he seriously just wiggle his eyebrows? Color Katchoo staggered. (Tube of acrylic, #597831, second shelf from the top on the left in aisle 4.)

"Yeah, now that you're not callin' me in frikkin' Curacao to ask me how things are going any more," she pointed out. "Because we all know monkeys will fly out my butt before you talk about yours, so why should I?"

"You were having difficulties," Arthur pointed out.

The words 'I was trying to be a friend' were never leaving his lips, though.

"My personal life, on the other hand, has been fine." Well. Better than fine. But see the above re: saying anything.

"And your timing blew chunks," Katchoo countered. "I'll let it slide for good intentions. Lucky you."

She leaned over and tried to nudge him with her elbow. "Kinda gathered that, since you're almost being pleasant. So I wasn't asking."

Insomuch as either of them was ever generally pleasant . . .

Arthur could be pleasant! Ish. He could be pleasantish. It depended on how well you parsed his ego in general.

He snorted at the elbow nudge. "...I might need to figure out this Valentine's thing," he said, after a moment, pulling a face.

. . . by the standards of most people, Arthur. Other people.

"Please," Katchoo said, waving a hand. "It's a gigantic excuse for selling candy, stuffed animals, and nauseating greeting cards."

Beat.

"What did you have in mind?"

That, too! ... Well, he could be polite, courteous and princelike. It's just that he then generally absconded to a corner of the room to bitch at Merlin about how much of a prick so and so was. Wasn't the population of Fandom happy it had put such an effort in informing Arthur they weren't interested in anything but the 'real him'?

"As you may know," Arthur started, "Merlin is a massive girl and he'll probably be going doey-eyed all weekend."

"You mean about like Francine will." Katchoo flipped a packaged coffee pod between her fingers, failed to catch it, and watched it arc toward the floor.

Arthur glanced towards the floor from his perch, snorting at the clumsiness involved. "But I will figure something out." Yes. "I can hardly get him more pornography, he's already drowning in the stuff." Oversharing? Maybe. He'd blame Katchoo if anyone asked.

Good thing Katchoo didn't have coffee, or she'd be choking on it. "Always the innocent ones you gotta look out for with that, huh?"

Totally oversharing. But she had it coming to her.

"It's disturbing," he told her, "And about as realistic as last week's Magic Reserves meeting." Another face pulled.

Yeah, Katchoo hadn't gone poking around in Francine's drawers.

. . . the furniture drawers. Geez.

"Hey, if it floats his boat." Snerk. "Do I wanna know what they got up to?" She briefly entertained the notion of telling him his face would freeze like that, but . . . nah. Maybe later.

"No," Arthur said, after a moment's pause, "You do not. Still, that's the sort of thing Valentine's seems to be about..."

[[ ... lj, fail for hiding this notif from me ]]

"Decorating so it looks like someone puked Pepto-Bismol all over everything and hawking expensive jewelry?" Katchoo's outlook on the holiday was so positive. "If you ever take it that far, I'll have to pretend I don't know you."

She shrugged. "The actual sentiment of it's okay. Taking the day to appreciate someone you love and all that."

[OOC: It could be worse. You could accidentally flag notifs as spam like I have a ridiculous habit of doing.]

There was a very real part of Arthur more than willing to get up and fight the cause of expensive jewelry as an easy catch-all gift to people on such occasions.

He waved a hand. "Yes, all that," he said, vaguely. ... that probably meant Merlin was just hoping on a full day back in bed. The girl.

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