❧ Out ❧ Of ❧ Time

[tinkertank]

➷ Pick A Muse
➷ Post a Prompt: leave a picture, a line, or a full-on tag!
➷ THE CATCH!: AU-it! If they're sci-fi? Stick them in BCE. If they're Victorian? Put them in the 1920s. If they're from Candyland? Put them into Steampunk Dystopian Veggieland. WHERE IN TIME IS CARMEN SANDIAGO? them. Let's do this.
➷ Label who you're tagging.
(Also put what time period/theme, if you have something specific in mind and think it's unclear.)
➷ ♥

Comments

[thereistheduck]

"I don't doubt it."

He just doubted it would be enough. That it wouldn't ruin him... and others.

And that he wouldn't think it was worth it, even if it did not accomplish anything. Effort, above inacton.

"...So. Chinese, you said?"

[onewordmore]

Leaning back in the chair and letting go of the topic at last; Rene had That Face on, and they weren't going to get into how infuriatingly correct he was.

"No beef this time, though; it was questionably mushy last time. Poultry maybe?"

[thereistheduck]

"Not duck."

He chimed in, giving him That Face Redux.

"I mean it. Fried dumplings, maybe? Pork. And vegetable something... lo mein? Fried rice? I don't know, surprise me."

He reached into his pocket to pull out his wallet, handing it up to him.

A beat.

"Not Duck, Alex."

[onewordmore]

Holding onto the wallet so that their fingers were touching, Alexis gave him a smile halfway between mischievous and innocent.

"But Ne, they're famous for their duck…" All the teasing. Forever.

Except he was hungry, so he leaned forward and gave Rene a peck on the lips and released the wallet (and Rene's fingers) entirely before leaning back in his chair again, only a credit card and cell phone in each hand.

"Fine. No duck."

[thereistheduck]

Rene rolled his eyes slightly. Robbed of two letters and two of his minutes. What had he gotten into?

"I will go rogue and order pizza. Mark my words. No duck. Good luck."

[onewordmore]

Grinning just a little, Alexis stood and sauntered over to the kitchen to order, running the card between his fingers on a single hand like one would a coin or pen. Totally showing off.

The slightly muffled order could be heard through the open area: vegetable lo mein, fried pork dumplings, and duck with garlic sauce. … Oh, did he say duck? He meant chicken; sorry about that! Yes, that would be by card.

[thereistheduck]

And yes, that is a book, aimed right for the back of your head, sailing your way. And the absolute most indignant look, followed by a suffering sigh and head in his hands.

If they did bring the duck, so help him God...

He'd sit in his study and read all night, drinking only black coffee, and suddenly finding himself very busy.

[onewordmore]

The most effortless sidestep to allow it to sail past, but, as if in afterthought, a graceful bend to catch the book before it splayed and crimped its pages on the floor.

"Twenty-five minutes?" Eyeing the book now as he turned. Looking back up at Rene, mouthed almost poutily, "Rousseau, really?" Back at the phone, "Yes, that'd be perfect, thank you. And please-- make sure it's chicken, not duck. Thanks!"

When he'd reentered the dining area, Alexis set the phone by Rene's elbow and called out, "Rude."

[thereistheduck]

"Yes, you were. I'm glad the book had its effect on your conscience."

Noted, even if he was a little incorrigible in the way he'd grasped it out of the air, as if he were the duck, and the book... the book, whatever ducks ate.

Okay, no more ducks. He was getting senselessly frustrated by their frequency in the conversation and thought processes of the last five minutes.

"Rousseau. Really."

[onewordmore]

Bread? Bread. Fish, sometimes?

Alexis shrugged his amusement, running his fingerprints across Rene's bookspines as he idly perused the rest of his library (again) and replaced the book where it belonged.

"Émile hardly changed my mind; I had intended to order the chicken from the start."

Though not without also fucking with you a little, of course. Rene always got so flustered; it was a great source of entertainment every time.

[thereistheduck]

"You intended to say duck from the start. And that is why Émile had a word with you. Or 72,000."

What did Alexi take him for, a fool? Oh no, no, no. That innocent act would fool no one in this room, thank you.

But he knew a way back at him. Gently,

"Will you answer the door wearing your crown? Your Majesty, King-- no, Emperor Alexi. I am honoured that you deign to have your ginger chicken beside me."

[onewordmore]

Alexis laughed. "The Journalist intended good, and it has degenerated in the hands of Homo."

For if he was Vir, surely that made Rene his human image in turn.

"Garlic chicken, peon, and you can starve for your irreverence; the lo mein and dumplings are mine now, too." A little vindictively there, for if he was to be a monarch, then he would play him to the fullest and have his cake, too, dammit.

[thereistheduck]

"Its a humanities, by study. I'd assume that homo is par for the course, in the modern telling of history-in-the-making." The obvious pun was not lost to him; nor was it strictly applicable.

Then again, as a staunch humanist, it certainly was.

"Ah, but even the lo mein? The lo- does not linguistically imply that it is for the low? Maybe I'll incite a revolution, if that's the case. Arm myself with chopsticks and pluck that crown off your head. Why should you eat garlic chicken up in your golden tower, while I pay for that chicken, and starve? It is a debate of ethics. Those who are immoral are not immortal. Remember that, when your fortune cookie foretells immanent doom." He said all of this with intellectual dispassion; just the facts, Msr.

[onewordmore]

Ah, it was that old banter between Enjolras and Combeferre, journalist and scholar, vir et homo; spending so much time in person with one another, it had been quite a while since their last wordy battle. Come to life here, in Rene's dining room, sounded aloud in his expressive tenor...

Alexis rounded the table to stand tall, regal, before the seated Rene.

"Such speech is treasonous, punishable by beheading via guillotine. Chopsticks are restricted to the nobility, and garlic chicken is eaten in the white tower; do get your facts straight, and stand properly in line. Are you prepared for your final stale cookie, Msr. Homo?"

Death by fortune cookie was certainly better than by stale cake -- or corn muffin, for that matter.

[thereistheduck]

The arrogant man stood erect. The modest man hunched. Such was an apt comparison here, especially for the roles they'd taken on.

Be humble in posture, and sharp of eye.

"So summon your blade, since you haven't the skill to cut with your sticks. Ah, that's the plight of nobility; that they use one thing, but find another more useful. Namely: the peasants cut with knives, and the King uses only his chopsticks. He calls upon a man who owns knives to be useful when there is a treason, to cut off a head. But what when the man with the knives is he who has committed the treason? He storms the white tower, and all His Majesty has in his regal possession is his majesty, and a pair of golden chopsticks. Both have lost their shine, as he loses his eyes that once spied their luster, along with the rest of his head. You see what it is I am saying? I say, keep your garlic chicken. We have fried noodles. It is sustenance enough. And when there is no more left, then it is we who have the chicken, and the trick of cooking it; and you who have an empty stomach. That, my liege, is why revolution works. Give me my cookie; I will eat it with pride."

[onewordmore]

Grabbing Rene's chin and tilting it up further even as he bent down to meet his gaze head on.

"You speak too freely and think too boldly; I will have you gagged and strung before the masses in all manner of humiliation."

He let go and wandered toward the front door just as the bell rang.

"But forgetting your place comes at a high enough price, so why incite further punishment upon yourself?" Opening the door, Alexis threw over his shoulder. "Martyrdom doesn't suit you, friend."

"No, but it suits you just fine, Your Majesty."

Alexis's blood ran cold and there was a gun pressed to Montparnasse's forehead just as quickly as there was a knife to his throat.

"Hello, Vir; hello, Rene. I hope you like duck." With the most self-satisfied smile.

[thereistheduck]

"That is exactly the thing that every philosopher hopes to hear in his lifetime; and often what he hears right before the end of it. Thank you for affording me the opportunity to meet greatness head on, before losing mine."

He quipped back, but mildly, sitting back in his chair even as his face was tilted up.

And, as Alexis walked to pick up the He Hopes It's Not Duck: "Does martyrdom suit anyone?"

Pointedly, but just as mildly.

...Before he was startled by another reply, opposite in its meaning, and sharper in its tone. Turning quickly in that chair, his breath caught at whom he found in his doorway, a frown dawning across his features.

"...That isn't what we ordered." THe duck, or Lucien? Who knew.

Nonetheless, he got to his feet and cautiously went to join Alex by the door, putting a hand on his gun arm lightly to advise caution. "You've made your point; we don't have to listen to his. Close the door. Lucien-- not now. Go away."

[toomuchpurple]

Alexis's tightened jaw did not lose slack, though Rene's touch would loosen his arm a feather's weight's worth. The trouble they would have to go through in cleaning up the blood and grey matter was not worth action here, but to hell if he was lowering his weapon first.

Though it wasn't likely that Montparnasse would here, either -- not without a little bit of blood first.

"Oh, but isn't this lovely? An AMIS detective with his pet thief--" The pressure to his forehead increased incrementally, but Lucien just rolled his eyes and continued seamlessly, extending the food toward them in a show of some surrender. "--sharing a delicious meal of Chinese takeout. I'd offer some Chinese rice wine to go with it, but I see that this is a closed invitation?"

[thereistheduck]

"Closed door implies closed invitation, yes." Why are you ever the uninvited dinner guest, Lucien? Rene did not reach out a hand to take the brown bag, instead shaking his head mildly.

They'd have to be a touch careful, if only because Alexis was meant to be laying low, and one inopportune call... well, it would have them both in jail, or on their heels running from it.

Still, there was no way Combeferre was going to eat that now.

"Keep that. We have leftover pizza, Alex-- you don't mind, I'm sure?"

[toomuchpurple]

How long will it take you to understand that he's just hungry for you?

"Well, then you might want to try teaching Alex not to open doors for strangers, then. It might be the death of both of you." A sweet smile.

And then an eyebrow raise, and finally a retracting of his knife back into his sleeve; this was getting boring. Notedly, Alexis did not lower his gun regardless. "Oh, come now. If I wanted to kill either of you, I'd make it far more obvious and far more painful."

Lucien used the back of his hand to push the gun slightly to the side so he could better deadpan directly at the pair's faces; Alexis only barely complied before finally lowering his firearm. "Thank you. And if I wanted to put microscopic trackers in your food, you would have already ingested them from said leftover pizza."

At the completely unconvinced expression on both their faces, Lucien sighed dramatically. "I don't know how you manage to give me so much and too little credit all at the same time, Rene, really.

"Now will you just take the food and tip me already?"

[thereistheduck]

He got the memo. He wished he'd never read it. He's pretending he couldn't read your handwriting. Please stop.

Rene's brow raised just slightly as his eyes caught the glint of the knife he hadn't noticed, as it was lowered. Again, his hand went out, hovering by Alex's elbow, this time with concern for him, as if poised to pull him backwards.

He was aware that they both worked a bit faster than he did; but that did not render him incapable of caring for Alex's safety, or even on acting on behalf of it.

As far as Rene was concerned, putting up with Montparnasse was for Alex's safety.

Once the weapons were lowered though, he did circumvent his 'pet thief', edging around him to plant a hand on the door and shaking his head.

"No-- consider it a gift, but you'll have to be eating it alone. I said no duck; it isn't anything personal." Given, flatly. "And please, stop apprehending my delivery boys."

His entire tone screamed 'here's a tip: go away.' Nothing new.

[toomuchpurple]

Well, that's not very nice, Rene. Here, let me tutor you on reading that there...

Alexis holstered his gun again (goodness knows where; it disappeared as quickly as it had appeared) and he allowed himself to step back.

"It isn't duck," he said flatly, eyes never leaving Montparnasse's, who only chuckled.

"Well-trained, isn't he?" Cooed such that Alexis visibly bristled in response. "But he's right; they got your order right, bless their little souls."

Holding the bag out again. "Too much of that pizza might actually be, ah, bad for you in such a short amount of time, so I really would recommend you take the Chinese."

[thereistheduck]

...Such a creeper.

(Rene is impressed, and will learn that gun-hiding trick.)

"..." A pregnant pause, before, gingerly, he reached out to take the bag. But, keeping his hand on its top, he met Lucien's gaze, asking as one would a particularly stubborn child or a naughty pet, "Lucien... what did you do to the pizza?"

That worried him. What had they ingested?

[toomuchpurple]

He's hot. Admit it.

(Later. In bed. ♥)

Relieved of his burden, Lucien tipped a salute at last. "Nothing of import; just make sure you don't eat the rest until Tuesday."

As he began to walk backwards away, a huge grin on his face, he called, "I imagine you want that delivery boy actually in one piece so I'll take my tip from your credit card later on. Bon apetit, darlings~!"

[thereistheduck]

No.

(No.)

"...Wha--" He stood there, stunned, holding the package and staring after him with a sort of stale, grim horror. He hadn't expected anything very different than that, but still...

He never got used to it.

"...Throw the pizza out, Alex." Instructed, with a sigh, as he got the door closed and locked (twice) at last. "Please."