Arthur Pendragon (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
excalibured) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
paradisalogs2012-09-10 06:34 pm
excalibured) wrote in paradisalogs2012-09-10 06:34 pm
Entry tags:
Well this car is automatic, it's systematic, it's hydromatic;
Who: Arthur Pendragon & Crowley
What: Arthur's prankster ways finally catch up to him
When: Now
Where: Wherever Crowley keeps his car
Rating: PG-13 for swears, probably
[It's a little pathetic how he gets here, how absolutely immature it is to fall into the habit, and how it doesn't even stop him. He can't...Not with his fucked up memory, recall entirely how this started, he just knows it did. With Crowley not letting him sleep a single night for months on end, to Arthur returning the favour with Queen's music. To gluing everything in Crowley's room, right down to scraps of paper, and then gluing them to the ceiling. He's been thinking of something else for awhile, toyed with it before everything became like it was.
When Morgana started being around more than Arthur wanted to deal with, felt offering her shelter and making an effort was more than enough, he didn't want to spend extra time with her as well, it was easy to jump on the stray thought and plan for it. It takes more time than he'd thought it would, to cover the Bentley entirely in glued on little plastic jewels. To copy futuristic peace symbols, and small crosses, and just about anything else he can think of that would annoy the other man, before filling up the empty space with a rainbow pattern, and when Arthur gets lazy and dawn breaks out, filling it with junk.
Juice boxes, crushed pop cans, the fake plastic fruit from the kitchen, arranged in a smiley face. He's on about his sixth cup of coffee, and the day is already dragging on into late afternoon when he thinks he's finished. He's spared only the windows and the tires, and he steps back to admire the handy work when...
Well, not as planned. He just sips his coffee as if he's just come to admire the view, and hasn't just been caught with the glue gun in his hand]
What: Arthur's prankster ways finally catch up to him
When: Now
Where: Wherever Crowley keeps his car
Rating: PG-13 for swears, probably
[It's a little pathetic how he gets here, how absolutely immature it is to fall into the habit, and how it doesn't even stop him. He can't...Not with his fucked up memory, recall entirely how this started, he just knows it did. With Crowley not letting him sleep a single night for months on end, to Arthur returning the favour with Queen's music. To gluing everything in Crowley's room, right down to scraps of paper, and then gluing them to the ceiling. He's been thinking of something else for awhile, toyed with it before everything became like it was.
When Morgana started being around more than Arthur wanted to deal with, felt offering her shelter and making an effort was more than enough, he didn't want to spend extra time with her as well, it was easy to jump on the stray thought and plan for it. It takes more time than he'd thought it would, to cover the Bentley entirely in glued on little plastic jewels. To copy futuristic peace symbols, and small crosses, and just about anything else he can think of that would annoy the other man, before filling up the empty space with a rainbow pattern, and when Arthur gets lazy and dawn breaks out, filling it with junk.
Juice boxes, crushed pop cans, the fake plastic fruit from the kitchen, arranged in a smiley face. He's on about his sixth cup of coffee, and the day is already dragging on into late afternoon when he thinks he's finished. He's spared only the windows and the tires, and he steps back to admire the handy work when...
Well, not as planned. He just sips his coffee as if he's just come to admire the view, and hasn't just been caught with the glue gun in his hand]
no subject
What he finds, however is a certain prince with a glue gun and an extremely bedazzled Bentley. There's a brief moment where Crowley's impressed with Arthur's abilities here, after all, that must have taken a lot of effort.
It doesn't last long however, because THAT'S HIS FUCKING CAR]
WHAT DID YOU DO?!!!!
no subject
And because Arthur is, well, Arthur, he doesn't have the decency to be afraid as he probably should be. He just drinks in Crowley's reaction like he'd strolled up to the car and asked pretty calmly about the weather.
The smirk tugs the corner of his mouth for what feels like the first time in years]
I improved upon the design.
no subject
It looks like a group of hippies exploded on it.
[Deep breaths. Don't kill the human. That never ends well]
Why? Just why?
no subject
A group of what?
[It's reflexive to ask, he doesn't really think he'll get an answer. Just like he's not really giving him one in return]
Because it's tradition.
no subject
[Arthur he wants to punch you. So bad]
Do you have any idea how long it'll take me to fix that? [Five seconds but that's besides the point]
no subject
[He'd probably still laugh, sorry Crowley] Preferably as long as it took me to create it.
no subject
Ten.
no subject
[He taps some of the pink hearts on the car, and he'll finally push off the lean on it] I think you just complimented me. I shall have to make note of that.
[He backs up one, singular step. WHAT IS SELF PRESERVATION]
no subject
[FUCKING PINK HEAAAAAAARTS] You do that.
Nine.