Brock Fucking Samson (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
samson) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
paradisalogs2013-03-27 11:17 pm
samson) wrote in paradisalogs2013-03-27 11:17 pm
Entry tags:
how does the grass grow? blood blood blood
Who: Brock, Molotov, and YOU!
What: Shopping in the city, it's extremely exciting
When: Friday, 30/March (forward dated)
Where: City Royale
Rating: PG probably
Brock didn't really want to get Molotov's hopes up for the return of their impossible imaginary fake magic baby. Because really, there was no telling that she'd be back this year -- there were so many people who left in the past few months, real people who were neither fake nor imaginary (some of them were impossible and magic, though), so he didn't really know if the castle was cutting back, or what.
But it's hard to say no to her when she has that look on her face.
So, they are presently walking all over the City Royale with their arms (read: Brock's arms) full of shopping. There's some regular shopping too, little trinkets for their castle room or the cabin, but a vast majority of it is toys (fake guns and swords) and clothes (small, frilly dresses).
Brock can barely see over the enormous stack of purchases in his arms, but it's fine. It's not like Molotov would intentionally lead him into a tree or a ditch or a person or anything. Probably. Maybe.
What: Shopping in the city, it's extremely exciting
When: Friday, 30/March (forward dated)
Where: City Royale
Rating: PG probably
Brock didn't really want to get Molotov's hopes up for the return of their impossible imaginary fake magic baby. Because really, there was no telling that she'd be back this year -- there were so many people who left in the past few months, real people who were neither fake nor imaginary (some of them were impossible and magic, though), so he didn't really know if the castle was cutting back, or what.
But it's hard to say no to her when she has that look on her face.
So, they are presently walking all over the City Royale with their arms (read: Brock's arms) full of shopping. There's some regular shopping too, little trinkets for their castle room or the cabin, but a vast majority of it is toys (fake guns and swords) and clothes (small, frilly dresses).
Brock can barely see over the enormous stack of purchases in his arms, but it's fine. It's not like Molotov would intentionally lead him into a tree or a ditch or a person or anything. Probably. Maybe.
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"Why don't you just leave alone?" she hisses, irritated. "I will do everything for her, because I am her mother."
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He points at the sandwich shop. "I'm going to go get something to eat, and then we're going to go shopping like happy fucking parents, and we're both going to share the carrying and the picking stuff out. And that's it. No discussion, Molotov."
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