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HOUSE #1470
mayo ✧ little shit ✧ loving daughter

"You've reached Carol Danvers, aka Captain Marvel. I'm not here, leave a message!

If it's urgent... uh. Leave it urgently."

speed dial
steve
sakamoto
gremlin

( call | text | voicemail | mail | action )

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[carol whaps him on the head again for that belligerence, halfheartedly, and goes back to work.

sweeping more of his hair back with her fingers to get underneath it, she feels a coil of dumb fondness in her gut. stupid kid.]

I got all three. Movies, I mean. Even though the third one kinda sucks.

[she heaves a sigh like an exoneration, I'm done with this, it's over, it's resolved, I can't keep this up forever. and she really wants it to be, too.

there's forgiving, though, and then there's rebuilding trust. that one, she can't just hand to him.]

Apparently. There's a lot about you that's not so apparent, though, huh.

Stop hittin' me! I'll rub my fucking head all over your bed!

[he buries more of his face against his arm]

...It don't kinda suck, it sucks every dick since the dawn'a time, dinosaur-style.

[lightly scruffles up his hair]

The lack of Goldblum is disappointing. Spinosaurus is cool, though.

[she's at his side in a minute, face an agonized mix of closed-off and concerned, trying to ignore the stink of alcohol as best she can. it brings back old pains, and the sight of him like this sparks new ones. it doesn't seem to matter that she's too tired for any more hurt tonight.

sighing, she reaches a hand up to push aside some of that curly mess he calls hair, searching his battered face by the light of store-fronts. all old wounds? good.]

You all right?

[when all else fails, fall back on instinct. care, protect. even if it falls flat, even if you can't help them. try.]

Edited 2013-08-16 09:16 (UTC)

Goldblum? That's the kinda shit you're inta?

[assumes the scruffles are productive]

[incredibly productive. scrufflescruffle comb comb.]

Usually I go in for a few more muscles, but I mean have you seen the part where his shirt's all open like that?

Chaotiticians are sexy.

[real talk with mom.]

Yah I must'a missed that part. He's like a million years old.

[whoops eye closes]

Well he is now, sure.

[not as many fleas popping up now, but she keeps up the combing anyway, settling into a more comfortable position while she does, tucking her legs up under her.

have they ever sat down and done anything dumb and quiet like this before?]

Like you'd know anyway.

Like I care, anyway.

[it feels good, not so terribly itchy even with the bites he has, that comb scraping against his scalp]

[he stops trying not to relax, lets his shallow breath become more evened]

[a small huff of amusement and she quiets down, focused on her rhythm and the sounds of the movie in the background, the silence from the rest of the house.

carol's eyelids are starting to feel a little heavy too. an itch twinges at the crown of her head and she reaches up idly to scratch at it -- and freezes, in abject horror.]

Shit.

[a single green eye blinks back open]

-- Eh?

[in the most pathetic voice carol is capable of:]

...I think I have fleas.

[and that orange head turns around (to the left, of course), Badou saying helpfully]

Duh. I got these like days ago.

[skritchskritchskritch aggressively at that spot.]

I know but I've never had fleas before, I've only had lice a couple times, this is gross. Augh.

Edited (i do what i want) 2013-08-16 17:19 (UTC)

[watches her itch]

...

Sakamoto left extracts.

[...]

I am gonna need the extracts.

[takes the opportunity to comb at his forehead]

'M fine!

[ he tries to make a kissy-face, thinks better of it a split second before it actually happens. what he does instead is stumble a step forward, grinning broad and wide, and puffs his cheeks out. ]

Worried? Are you worried? Ahh, you don't have to do that, Mutsu! That's scary coming from you! Really scary!

[she stands ready to steady him if his stumbling becomes a fall, but he seems able to keep himself upright, at least. that's something.]

Not Mutsu. Carol. And after all this you can't really blame me.

[frown deep, carol hovers uncertainly -- does he need help to the car? can he help himself to the car? is the car even a good idea, should she just sit him down and get him some coffee?]

Where are you even trying to go like this?

[his eye scrunches at the front-coming briefly before it's hidden in tangles of orange scruff]

They -- pfffuhh [blowing that stupid hair out of his face] -- still in the tub.

Good. Ugh. Ugh.

[that was a stupidly cute thing, though, with his hair, so she does it again. cooooomb.

and then, teasing]

You gonna check me for fleas too, kiddo? Return the favor?

Carol? Carotsu? Aah.

[ he takes an initial step onward, dangerously wobbly at first. it's nothing short of a miracle that he's still going, moreso with those geta on his feet.

he's practiced at the art of drunken walking. ]

Beach. Ocean. It's important.

I like to think I'm an enigma wrapped in a smooth, candy shell.

[ a smile, a dazzling thing that would be charming if he didn't look like he'd had a bad affair with a cheese grater. ]

Want to get to my center?

Carol. Wh--

[she doesn't know how far she trusts him to make it, so she puts a guiding hand on his arm, steering gently toward the car.

meeting someone, he'd said.]

Okay. All right. Just -- try not to be sick. Or drown. Okay?

[her answering smile, her laugh, are disbelieving and involuntary and dumb. goofy, even.

if ever there was a harder person to actually be mad at, carol hasn't met them.]

Sure, why not.

[SHE IS NOT SERIOUS SAKAMOTO NO SHE IS KIDDING DON'T]

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