[log] no shagging in the shag house [closed]

[mrcreamsicles]

Characters: Davesprite, Karkat, the Cat, and House
Location: Building 309
Date: Night 253
Summary: An overdue meeting to give House a bunch of stuff. Also, excessive shag carpeting and the removal thereof.
Warnings: Highly probable talk of drug addiction and torture in the trade thread with House. Other warnings applied on threads as needed.

309: A house, green on the Geiger counter, that probably should have been redecorated ages ago. Everything looks to be from the 60s or 70s, right down to the shag carpeting. There's even carpeting on the walls of the bedroom. It does make the room a little warmer, at least... There's a bedroom, living room, kitchen, and bathroom. The kitchen and bathroom aren't carpeted, at least. "зеленый" is written on the inside of the door.

(Until House tears the shag up, anyway.)

Comments

for House, warnings above apply

[mrcreamsicles]

[There is nothing quite as relieving as the feeling of finally when Davesprite reaches the door knowing House is inside the building. It's been, what, a month now that he's been planning this? With detours and side trips and other godawful happenings to delay, it's frankly taken too long just to get to him, and his bad will weigh lighter to the offloading of a few items in particular.]

[He's kept in contact enough to ensure the right path (including the fact that there actually is a building down this way to settle in), but he still knocks on the door frame before entering. His travel companions can settle to their own comfort; he has this to do before anything else.]

Sup, House. Santa Claws is here with his sack of way too much stuff.

[rubikscomplex]

Cry me a river, Tang. I'm carrying around a toolbox.

[The voice comes from the bedroom where House is currently lying on his side on the bed. He has his tablet on for the light, and he's only partially removed the shag from the walls, taking a break to rest for the pain in his back and chest.]

Give me the goods and the sparkle text is yours.

[If House looks like he's in worse shape than normal... well, Davesprite hasn't seen him in a while and everyone looks terrible. Half-rations for a while now coupled with the whipping, branding, and partial skinning have taken their toll, though.]

[mrcreamsicles]

[Davesprite follows the sound of the voice, eyebrow rising first at the decor—shag on the walls, seriously?—before turning to constrained concern once he actually looks at House.]

You look like shit, dude.

[Not for lack of reason, either, from what he's heard.]

[He floats over and unloads his tote bag and backpack to the floor. He took the liberty of rearranging things this morning before leaving to make them more accessible for this, so it takes little fuss to pull out the alcohol (one bottle Amaretto, one bottle absinthe), the bottle of Vicodin (not missing one pill), the doll shaped like House, and a guitar pick, each of which he sets on the bed.]

I've got a shot glass too if you want it. I already have a teacup. And a first aid kit if you haven't been able to patch yourself up.

[rubikscomplex]

[As Davesprite sets everything out, House sits up and picks up his tablet. He transfers the sparkletext app to the kid, and then reaches for his pack. He pulls a canteen off of it and reaches for the bottle of absinthe to pour into it.]

I've got medical supplies.

[A pause.]

How squeamish are you?

[mrcreamsicles]

[Davesprite would be happier about the app, but by now it's degraded to little more than an excuse to give House things that might perk him up, even if not all those habits are strictly healthy. He glances at the canteen as House fills it, but doesn't say anything. He never picked it up for his own benefit.]

[He figures House deserves a more honest answer than he might otherwise give, under the circumstances.]

I've seen more blood than I ever need to, but I put up enough with a stomach wound and a missing wing to finish my player's quest for him. I sure as hell won't like it, but I'll deal. Just tell me what I need to do.

[quadrangle]

[With no reason to accompany Davesprite on this particular trade and zero inclination to talk to House besides (seriously, fuck that guy), Karkat flops onto the couch the moment he hits the living room, backpack and bowling ball bag at his feet. He'll search the rest of the hive later, probably, but before he gets around to doing that, he's removing his gloves, wrestling off his boots, and closing his eyes against the garish interior. The historical context is lost on him, unfortunately, and it's lost further when, after discreetly checking that Davesprite's nowhere to be found, he hauls out Slammed in the Butt by My Eight Alternate Egos and starts reading.]

[... Look, this book isn't nearly as bad as the others and shut the fuck up, what else is he supposed to do?]

[absentconstellation]

[ The Cat hopes that Karkat isn't too embarrassed by that choice in literature, because he chooses this moment to take a seat on the armrest, his tail flipping enough to smack Karkat lightly on the arm.

He says nothing, only purrs. ]

[quadrangle]

[Karkat's been reading books like this in the Cat's presence for over a month now, so embarrassment doesn't even occur to him. Irritation does with his arm getting smacked like that, and sighing to himself, he adjusts his hold on the book so that he can reach out and scratch Pounce gently behind the ears.]

[absentconstellation]

[ He tilts his head, angling Karkat's fingers into the crease where his ears meet his head. His tail keeps flipping, but it can't hit Karkat's arm when that arm is over top of it. ]

[quadrangle]

[How is the cat so bossy when he's not even saying anything? It must be a talent.]

[Karkat sighs but redirects his fingers to where Pounce is very unsubtly urging them, his book momentarily forgotten.]

Not going to explore?

[rubikscomplex]

[Without a cane, House can be surprisingly quiet when he moves. The shag everywhere helps that considerably. He needs his reading glasses to actually see what the words on the pages are, but the flashes of the cover he sees tell him everything he needs to know.]

If you're gonna try to screw your new boyfriend, do it out here. I'm using the bed in the bedroom. Not interested in teenage experimentation getting everywhere.

[quadrangle]

[The thing about reading is that it generally keeps Karkat absorbed enough to ignore everything in his periphery that he assumes is his MN poisoning fucking with him. No one's actually watching him, right? Or if they are, he'd also assume they'd announce their presence before they're practically right on top of him, but oh look, he's apparently wrong about that too!]

[He bolts to his feet with a yelp, the book going flying as he scrambles to put a few feet between himself and House. One of his hands is opening and closing over thin air because of course he'd forget he can't just equip his sickles when he's startled like this, and it's only through the return of some of his good sense that he quickly stops instead of reaching for his letter opener instead. God, why—]

What the fuck is wrong with you people?! Is this a hobby or something?! Or did a memo go around that I wasn't invited to: "Hey idiots, looking for more globebursting, hilarity gland-tickling asshole funtime shenanigans?! Sneak up on Karkat out of nowhere, god only knows he hasn't had enough excitement after seeing everyone die horribly!"

[rubikscomplex]

[He's adorable. House smirks.]

Well, they did kinda filter you from that post.

[quadrangle]

[He snarls under his breath and crosses his arms tightly over his chest, stubbornly staying right where he is. He'd prefer to reclaim his couch to make a point, but he doesn't want to get too close to House at all if he can help it, not after what Royce told him.]

Don't do it again. I mean it. It's bad enough that I've been designated Cat entertainment without some self-destructive jackoff getting in on the action.

[absentconstellation]

[ In a show of profound consideration for his housemates, the Cat has opted to do as much running around as possible during non-sleep hours. He bounces off walls and over furniture and on occasion stops abruptly to clean himself.

Enjoy the free entertainment, all. ]

[rubikscomplex]

[House watches this for a minute or two when he steps out of the bedroom. He leans with one shoulder against the wall.]

Mania, or are you hopped up on ecstasy, Starcat? Hope you're sharing if it's the drugs.

[absentconstellation]

[ Once House speaks up, the Cat skids to a stop. He would start cleaning himself and pretend none of this happened, but... House has been standing there some time already, hasn't he.

This gods-cursed town is out to destroy his pride, is that it? "Mania", House calls it. Madness. ]

I merely have a great deal of energy. It is nothing to concern yourself about.

[rubikscomplex]

So it's the mania. [He moves to sit down on the sofa, but he leans on one arm, rather than against the backrest.] I'd offer to get you meds, but I'm not a vet, and Evie isn't talking. Could probably knock you out with some Vicodin. Even better than catnip.

[mrcreamsicles]

[Davesprite is not as sore as he could be after helping House with the de-carpeting (thanks to good old painkillers), but he's still glad enough to come sit down and watch this bonkers bundle of energy try to singlehandedly break the laws of physics.]

Trying to tire yourself out before bedtime?

[absentconstellation]

[ At least he knows that Davesprite has witnessed this behavior before. He feels less inclined to try and recover his dignity. He keeps running. ]

Yes.

[mrcreamsicles]

'Preciate it.

[He keeps watching for a minute or two, but hell, what's having a playful cat around if you don't try to entertain him once in a while? And the thing is, he has feathers. The ones attached to him are definitely not for playing with (and he's eternally grateful that Meow Mix has more restraint than Jaspersprite on that front), but he still sheds a loose one every now and then. And he's saved them because, well, why not? They might be useful someday. Somehow. He digs a couple out from his backpack, curls his tail well out of the way, then holds the feathers up and out with the quills pinched between his fingers.]

Hey, Friskies.

[He wiggles the fluffy bundle of them.]

for birb

[quadrangle]

[After the conversation with House, Karkat feels a pressing need for a palate cleanser. Surely if he could talk to someone who wasn't a complete asshole for five minutes, his day would brighten right the fuck up. Isn't there any such soul who might aid him in his time of need?]

[Considering the fact that his options are limited to Davesprite and the Cat, the search is basically doomed from the start, but quite charitably (not), he opts for the feathery variety this time around. He's already talked to Pounce, and besides, there's something still niggling at the back of his mind that the furry one wouldn't be able to answer.]

[Hunting Davesprite down doesn't take very long, fortunately, and with an absent glance over his shoulder to make sure House isn't lurking around the corner, he approaches. If they weren't bothering with this elaborate song and dance where they're totally just normal Earth human buddies and not pseudo-moirails and if it wouldn't freak Davesprite out besides, Karkat would probably do something about the presently inexplicable way Davesprite keeps rubbing his goddamn wrists (did he injure himself? how), but hahaha yeah no. He'll refrain.]

Hey. Everything all right?

[mrcreamsicles]

[Davesprite's settled in on the floor somewhere, easier than fitting himself onto the couch, and easier to keep some space from everyone else. He heard a little of House's hassling of Karkat, but not all or in detail. Jumping in probably wouldn't have helped anything under the circumstances. Not with appearances to keep up.]

[He's been eating a makeshift dinner, such as it is when his food supply is from a vending machine, but it sits half-eaten in its wrapper while he rubs at the soreness in his wrists. Fucking aspirin, it might have dulled things, but it only does so much after all that rug-pulling.]

Yeah, I'm good. We found a trap door under the carpet in the bedroom, but we couldn't get it open, and now my wrists are pitching a fit at me.

[The rest of his arms too, honest, but whatever.]

Things cool on your end now?

[Now that House has fucked off, he means. He's fine with letting him take the bedroom, given his injuries.]

[quadrangle]

[Karkat hesitates, checks one more time to be sure that House is nowhere in sight, then goes to sit beside him. He doesn't think the spot he's chosen is too close, but how close is too close? Ugh, whatever, as long as he keeps his hands to himself, he should be fine.]

Yeah, it's cool. He's about as aggravating in person as I thought he'd be.

[Which is to say, even more aggravating in person and Karkat's expectations were so low they'd tunneled straight through the other side of the planet and were currently off exploring deep space. The usual.]

[He sighs and rubs at the back of his neck, gaze directed elsewhere for now. It's really annoying how all this pretense makes it even harder to not do things he shouldn't be tempted to do to begin with. Time for a distraction.]

What's "seven minutes in heaven?"

[mrcreamsicles]

[About as expected. Maybe Karkat would have launched into a rant about if things were less awkward, but the tension to look right is tangible in the air. He carefully doesn't react outwardly at all to Karkat sitting near him. It's just sitting. It's fine. They can have a conversation and it will be normal and House won't be able to say shit because—]

What?

[A little loud. Shit.]

[He lowers his voice to a hiss while his eyebrows scrunch in together.]

Dude, why are you asking me that?