HH_mirror

((OOC: ...That was Keenan being in character and nicknaming her, but will avoid that in the future!))

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missprimavera.livejournal.com

Primavera had dragged along Steff and Lezard, who were in one of their inseparable moods, to be distinguished from their shunning-one-another moods. En route to the Room of Requirement she'd regaled them with the details of this form of combat Caine used. Pilots and Anchors and this and that and the other thing, and people saying love was their weapon when love wasn't actually a prerequisite. "I mean, if love is necessary, then only Iggy should be able to do anything useful with me," she observed, bemused. "And I can't love anyone. I don't even like anyone. Except you," and she squeezed Steff's hand companionably. She'd pulled Steff away from Lezard, who was stalking beside them moodily (probably because he wanted to hold hands with Steff instead, and was too cool to admit it).

"The sun will not succumb to this mummery," he informed them both. "This should be amusing."

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"Love ain't romance," Keenan said with a chuckle. "I am AMAZED at how many people I've had to explain that to. I mean, Coraline I can unnerstand but..."

He raises his eyebrow at the entourage. "Hey, Lezard. And you would be?"

((OOC: Keenan Caine's gender sense, would it be tingling? How male does Steff present as?))

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Steff wanted to hold Lezard's hand as well, and she would have reached for it, except he was looking kind of glum and emo at the moment, so she didn't bother.

"Love is a weapon?" she said, leering. "I've got a love weapon right here." She made a crotch-grabbing gesture with her free hand for emphasis.

"Anyway, what I want to know is, how come everyone knows about this Room of Requirement but me? I mean, seriously. That could be cool. If I wanted a room full of hot naked cabana boys to fuck me into next Tuesday, I could just go there and have it." She glanced over at Lezard, mock-accusingly. "You've been holding out on me, dude."

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"You hardly need that." Lezard snorted. "You have ... hmm, a samurai and an amazingly rotund extraterrestrial nobleman on your string. What do you need with cabana attendants? In any event, I certainly was not the one who informed this fellow about the Room of Requirement."

Primavera giggled. The Steff-and-Lezard-show was almost as much fun as Thai TV.

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"Oh come on, you're not jealous are you?" Steff said with a laugh. "I mean, you've got Amaranth. And the Groundskeeper. And Snape. And anyway I never said you told him." Her smirk was evil. "Besides, I want cabin boys because at least they'd take off their clothes if I wanted them to."

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They'd reached the Room of Requirement, and Lezard stopped to give Steff a truly venomous look before they went inside to join whatever group might be present. "Those accusations I shall not dignify with any reply at all." Especially because he had done the groundskeeper and Snape. But he had magical excuses for both of those! He hadn't known Turlough was Turlough! He'd been under the influence of an airborne aphrodisiac/hallucinogen that evening with Snape!

And if Amaranth had told Steff about either one of these incidents, he'd ... he'd ... he'd probably spank her. Which she would like. It was very difficult to punish Amaranth in any efficacious way at all. Lezard sighed, somewhat mollified by the thought of her.

"See? If you say anything about Amaranth he swoons." Primavera was highly amused.

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Keenan blinks. "...Amaranth?" he says.

Then he shakes his head. "Primavera, how much of the run-down do you remember?" He indicates a desk at the foot of a bed, with a crystal ball, some rather steampunk switches, and a scroll with the words "Being A Map Of The Dreaming of Keenan Caine."

There are six beds so equipped. These beds are... just beds.

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Steff giggled at Primavera. "He totally does." She struck a pose and spoke in a simpering falsetto. "Oh, Amaranth! Roll my twenty-sided dice to see if you give me a hard-on!" Clearly, Primavera was a bad influence on Steff, who would probably not be nearly so antagonistic if she weren't around.

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Lezard arched an eyebrow. "You underestimate Amaranth." Yeah, everyone knew she didn't need a twenty-sided die to help her into the magely breeches. That was the problem. Amaranth could get him out of said breeches and Steff couldn't. Primavera, who knew this, bit her lip, expecting the conversation to turn ugly in a less entertaining way. She didn't like seeing Steff genuinely upset or hurt, and she knew there was real emotion underlying the jibes.

So she squeezed Steff's hand again, and said: "Yeah, well, she's not exactly choosy."

"Nor is present company," said Lezard smoothly. "The Baron Harkonnen, Steff? Really?"

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Keenan, at this point, is taking notes mentally.

Lezard, you would either be a very very GOOD Pilot, or a very, very short-lived one, he thought, and smirked.

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Steff snorted. "Oh, come on now. I fuck the baron for the same reason you fuck Snape. The drugs are awesome, man!" There was more to it than that, but she wasn't going to admit to Lezard that the Baron was a damn good dom. He'd probably have kittens.

"So which one of us gets to use our love weapons?" she asked, changing the subject.

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Lezard paled slightly, knowing Steff's allusion all too well.

Primavera, who'd been conversing with Steff on the anonymous secrets post, knew the allusion even better, and smirked.

"Neither of us," said Lezard. This was more pressing a concern than refuting her claims about Snape -- which she'd never stop claiming anyway. "Especially not you, Steffain."

Hmph.

"This love-weapon business we are here only to observe." In other words, Lezard and Steff were the peanut gallery. They might also indulge in a bit of non-metaphorical making out under the very metaphorical bleachers. "Besides which I understand that 'Trust' is a prerequisite of this Pilot/Weapon bond. I trust you not quite as far as I could throw you, considering the lightness of your frame and the puissance of my magic mean that I could throw you a fair distance indeed."

Fuck it. He grabbed her hand anyway. He wanted to be close to her, even though he hated her.

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Steff smiled indulgently. "Sometimes, Lezard, it would be helpful if you talked less, since you fuck up all of your metaphors." She gave his hand a little squeeze when he took it though, because she was secretly pleased that he had done it. Glancing around the Room of Requirement, she rolled her eyes. "Oh, God," she said, indicating Beowulf. "Are we going to, like, have to see him naked?"

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Lezard had certain issues.

Another of the reasons he didn't like to take his clothes off? In his universe, barbarians and swordsmen were the epitome of attractive manhood. Big musclemen, wearing skimpy vests and tight trousers to flaunt the brawn with which they made their livings as mercenaries or soldiers. Lezard would never be one of these.

Oh, now that he was a god, he could assume such a form. But it would be difficult to maintain his energy in that form. Energy wished to take the form familiar to it; the further from its proper pattern he forced it, the harder it was to sustain. More, that offended his ego. He should be worshiped for who and what he was.

So he scowled in Beowulf's direction. "I should say not." Why, yes, Lezard was going to be jealous of Beowulf. Who was cheerily and cluelessly flaunting his body in the presence of Steff. Lezard wanted Steff to look only at him! Because he hated her, and all.

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Steff had noted the flair of jealousy that Lezard was trying not to show. She decided it was an attractive quality.

"That's too bad," she said sweetly. "He's the only one worth looking at naked." Her gaze had passed over and then dismissed Brienne and Methos as well as Sage and Rat. Now she was looking at Lezard, still smirking a little.

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Beowulf overheard!

"DO NOT SPEAK OF MY MANHOOD IN THE PRESENCE OF THE YOUNG DEPUTY PREFECT. SHE IS ABOUT TO ARRIVE AND SHE IS TOO YOUNG FOR SUCH TALK. I WILL SHOW YOU THE MONSTER IN MY BREECHES LATER, IF YOU WISH, AT A MORE APPROPRIATE TIME!"

With this stern admonition, he departed for the snack table, for some much-needed lime Kool-Aid.

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"Ooooh!" Steff grinned at Primavera. "I've never been hit on by a jock before. They're not usually my type--unless they're Viktor, but that's different. Do you think I should go for it? He looks like he might actually have a monster in his breeches. Maybe I'd even get to see it." Steff so didn't know when to quit sometimes.

From:

missprimavera.livejournal.com

Primavera eyed Beowulf. "He looks big and dumb and tasty. And I haven't had a nice bite in ages. You have enough swains, Steffy." And with that, she vamped her way over to the Kool-Aid bowl.

Leaving Lezard and Steff alone. Lezard slid his arm around Steff. "Entertained yet?"

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Steff leaned into Lezard's embrace. "Oh yeah, this is fun," she said. Not least because it meant she got to spend time with Lezard, which was not something she would admit was important.

"Can you use your godlike abilities to get me some of that Kool-aid?" she wanted to know.

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"Plain, or enhanced?" was his only question. Of course he could get her some Kool-Aid. But not until after he'd surreptitiously grabbed her ass. What? It was a nice ass.

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"I like your enhancements," Steff said. She did not protest the groping, especially since it was Lezard doing it.

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"Not nearly as much as I like yours." Oh, this was just getting embarrassing, except to the parties involved. Lezard chose to spike a drinking horn of Kool-Aid with a mild and benign stimulant, just enough to improve the drinker's mood.

They could share.

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Not that Steff cared about embarrassment. As always when she was in Lezard's company, she didn't pay attention to anyone else.

"Awww, you always know the right things to say," she simpered, taking a sip of the Kool-aid. "So you noticed the new bra? I think the padding looks really good. Not lifelike, but not shabby, either."

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It was then that Lezard said something truly unwise.

"We could enhance you differently," Lezard suggested, and by this he did not mean adding a stuffed codpiece to complement the padded bra. "I have certain relics, a lock of the Chatelaine Thecla's hair, which could easily be used for what Hogwarts' wizards call polyjuice ..."

The mun gives permission for Steff to slap the insensitive mage in the face. Clearly he was not thinking with the correct head.

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Steff abruptly pulled away, crossing her arms over her less than stellar chest. "Oh really?" she said in a voice that was nothing if not completely ominous. "So are you saying you don't like the body the gods gave me?" it was one thing for her to hate her body. Lezard, though... was being a douche. "I don't even know who this Thecla person is," she added. "If you fucked her, I'm nodfnitely not interested."

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Keenan laughed. "Okay, I think I like you for that," he said, indicating Steff. "Keenan Caine, the dork what Primavera is Anchoring."

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rat-bstrd.livejournal.com

((OOc: Darn, I wanted to show up to this yestrday-family stuff got in the way. I might be busy tonight as well))

Rat and Sage showed up, Sage was humming something- helping herself get ready to steady the wards. If necessary, Rat was prepared to send an emergency owl to Ofdensen or Dumbledore.

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Coraline waited for the mission to start, deputy's hat on and a determined look on her face that very nearly hid how nervous she was. She'd never had to fight anything like this before.

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Beowulf came to stand beside his deputy. "I WILL BE YOUR ARMOR," he said stoutly. "THIS MEANS I WILL FIGHT FOR YOU AS A GIANT MACHINE ENTITY IN THE SKY. YOUR BRAIN AND MY MUSCLE WILL DEFEAT THIS MONSTER ONCE AND FOR ALL, WITH THE POWER OF KOOL-AID AND FRIENDSHIP!"

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Coraline smiled, only a little shakily. "I'm wondering about the speakers," she said. "They grow back when people cut them down, and I know about one monster that can do something like that... and in the story, burning the hydra's neck afterwards stopped its head from coming back. I don't know if anyone's tried to burn the speakers or melt them, but if they haven't we should try to. It might help. Unless you thought of that already."

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In fact, Beowulf had not thought of that, being a Geat of Very Little Brain. "WOULD FLAME WORK AGAINST THE CREATURES OF A SUN, IN TRUTH?" he asked, astonished. "IT IS WORTH TRYING!"

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"I don't know, but they're not made of fire. They're made of metal and - something pink. So the outside of them would probably melt if it was hot enough." She didn't want to speculate too much on what the pink stuff was.

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Beowulf's grin was truly fearsome, not least because dental care among the Geats of his time period was not all that advanced.

"METAL WILL MELT, AND FLESH WILL BURN. LET US GO FORTH TO THE REAPING."

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What Coraline had seen of the inside of the speakers had looked less like flesh and more like the orangey thing that had been growing in a corner of the garden once, that her dad told her not to touch. That was only a first impression, though. She hadn't wanted to get close to it.

She straightened her hat a little. "Is everyone else ready?"

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Beowulf shrugged. "CAN THEY EVER BE TRULY READY FOR MONSTERS? YOU AND I HAVE FOUGHT MONSTERS BEFORE. TO THE SKIES, DEPUTY CORALINE!"

Whereupon he did the funky incantation that let him serve as Anchor or whatever it was. Coraline would be able to manifest a giant Beowulf-shaped, horned-helmet-wearing robot-like astral shape that could pour fiery Kool-Aid all over the loudspeaker plants, if she so chose.

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Once in position, Coraline looked out at the speakers and concentrated, taking a deep breath. "All right... Expecto Anima."

And there began to manifest a giant robotic astral Beowulf, although one with a flaming sword rather than flaming Kool-Aid. It carried a drinking horn as well, though - she'd considered that astral Kool-Aid might put out the Baby Sun. But for the speakers, the burning sword seemed more efficient. This choice might have been partly influenced by the (slightly discouraging) current soundtrack (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tPFYAd96WqE).

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The spectral Beowulf incinerated loudspeaker-stems left and right. The soundtrack changed to fit (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u--97IytCSE), and the Beowulf figure boomed earthshakingly loud laughter as it burninated the countryside.

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