just_displaced | Open Post

[Oliver's checked the door. He's checked and double checked - the human way and the fairy way - and whatever the hell is keeping them in here it ain't moving yet. Really, as far as he can tell the only way they're leaving this room ever again is if whatever mystical force locked them up in the first place gets bored and lets them out again. So really, doing anything is completely unnecessary.

Which is probably why the fairy king is question is now lounging casually on the bed, a random book in hand that he dug out of the nightstand, looking for all the world like he couldn't care less.]

[How can this guy possibly be comfortable enough to recline on the bed and read a book when they're locked in a room with no way out and no idea what's got them locked in there in the first place? At any moment, someone could show up and, oh, murder them. That's what happens when you get abducted, right?

So Ginsberg's doing what he does best, and panicking. He's pacing back and forth in front of the door, as though it'll spring open if he just walks around by it enough. He's checked the door, too, but one thing's certain: it's pretty damn locked.]

I can't believe this... I just can't believe this... this is ridiculous.

You do know that so far in the history of the world no one has yet to actually escape a locked room by pacing a hole in the floor?

[Eyebrowing so hard over the edge of this copy of Fifty Shades of Grey, man. SO HARD.]

Have you read this before? It's kind of hilarious actually.

We can be the first ones in the history of the world to do it, then. And besides, how would you know? You don't know the whole history of the world. If I pace long enough, there'll be a hole in the floor eventually, right?

[His pacing slows juuuust a little, though, to look at the cover of the book, and then shake his head.]

No. What's it about?

Bondage, mostly.

[He licks his thumb theatrically to turn a page.]

I've tried opening the door, you know. We're not getting out any time soon so you might as well relax.

You're telling me to relax. Me. I don't relax. I'm not relaxed even when I'm relaxing. Toss in being stuck in a room with no way out and I'm completely incapable of...

[Wait a second. What did he just say the book was about?]

... how could they possibly write a book that long about bondage? Isn't it pretty repetitive?

Oh yes. Very repetitive.

The book, not bondage in general. I could read you some. Unless, you know, you've got somewhere else to be.

[Oliver is just going to scooch sideways on the bed a little meaningfully. Come on, you know you want to read bad porn with him.]

[Are you really trying to read him bad porn to calm him down. What are you even doing. But he kind of paces a little closer to the bed, at least. Hovering, really. Not committing to sitting down yet, because he might need to start pacing again at any moment.]

You can read some. I guess. Unless it's so bad that it makes me want to pace more, just to escape how bad it is.

"I had no idea giving pleasure could be such a turn-on, watching him writhe subtly with carnal longing. My inner goddess is doing the merengue with some salsa moves."

That sounds a little awkward to break out into in the bedroom, don't you think?

[He's glancing up from the book at you, Ginzo, is it making you awkward because that's entirely what he's going for.]

Are you thinking about sitting down or just providing me with a little shade?

[Yes. It's making him very awkward. But he's mostly stopped pacing. He's just kind of standing there. Staring.]

I don't even know where to start with... I mean... not only does all of that sound ridiculous, it's just... I feel offended, as a writer. Even though I'm a different kind of writer.

[Very reluctantly sitting on the very edge of the bed, because awkwardly looming is probably worse than just sitting down. For a second. He's still eyeing the door like it'll fling itself open at any moment.]

Why are you even reading that? Is that the only book that's in here? Please tell me it's not.

I've never read anything you've written but I'm positive you could do better than this.

[He doesn't look up when Ginsberg sits out, but the corner of his mouth does twitch up in a smile.]

Only one I've found so far, although to be honest I haven't checked under the bed yet.

You probably have read stuff I've written, actually. You just wouldn't know it. They're advertisements, so it's not like the guy that writes the copy for them gets credited. But unless you've avoided all print media and all television for the last five years, you've read or heard my stuff.

[Oh hey, the one thing he's confident about. That's better than staring at the door.]

If there're books under the bed, they're probably even worse. Isn't that where people hide books they're ashamed of?

Or porn, but seeing as I found porn in the bedside table, I assume they're not hung up on hiding it.

[Ginsberg does get an impressive smile for that, though, because hey he's not freaking out so much now.]

Oh yes. Anything big I might have heard of?

That's not even good enough to be porn, I don't think. Not that porn means that something is inherently good, because there's a lot of bad porn out there, but it's not even erotic. It's just clumsy.

[Smiles are good. Smiles are better than freaking out. Even though he does glance over at the door again. And he's way over on the edge of the bed.]

I did some ads for Jaguar. Uh, Chevalier Blanc. Manischewitz. That makes it sound like I do mostly cars and alcohol. I guess that's not entirely inaccurate. Heinz Ketchup, there's one that's not cars or alcohol.

Come on, though, you barely have to sell ketchup. People love that shit!

[He's smiling broadly now because Ginsberg is talking and not pacing and really how is he so precious.]

That's actually the basis of the ad, basically. It doesn't even show the ketchup. It just assumes that people already want it, they just have to be reminded which brand to buy. And c'mon, nobody buys any brand besides Heinz, anyway. I mean, there's Hunt's, but nobody cares about them.

[Why are you smiling so much, man? It's making him paranoid again. And he may not be pacing, but he's still kind of... shaking with nervous energy. Ever so slightly.]

[But the more he smiles, the more flustered he gets. It's totally win-win.]

Sounds like a real winner.

[He looks up from his book again to catch the edge of Ginsberg shaking like that and honestly. The way some people fall to bits because of a little potential kidnapping.]

For pete's sake, come on and lie down. You're shaking like a fucking leaf, you know.

Yeah, I know, it's just that this isn't exactly a normal situation for me. I mean, maybe you get locked in random rooms all the time, but I'm not used to it. I don't know how to handle it. I don't think lying down is going to help.

[But he's willing to give it a try. Very, very slowly. And gingerly. And awkwardly. But then, he does most things awkwardly.]

I won't lie and say it's my first time, no.

[Wiggling his eyebrows at you? Maybe only a little. Still, as soon as Ginsberg is lying down he's lifting his arm up to settle behind his head, giving him room to shuffle in if he chooses to.]

[He's an instinctively cuddly person. That's just how he is. Even still, he's a little too jittery to properly scoot closer, but he's still shuffling just a tiny bit closer.]

How did you get out of being locked in a room the last time? Did you just wait for it to open up? Doesn't that get boring?

Boring's a relative concept you've been around as long as I have.

[Oliver will just makes things a little easier by tightening his arm around Ginsberg's shoulder, settling him as he goes back to reading his book one-handed.]

The last time was pirate-related, so I don't really see that being terribly relevant this time.

Pirate related?

[Well, that's kind of intriguing, at least. And yeah, he's not really protesting the arm around his shoulder. And now he can't help but looking at the page that Oliver's currently reading. Which quickly leads to him making a disgusted face. Disgusted and flustered, what an odd combination.]

That's... How can you stand to actually be reading more than a page of this? Doesn't it make you deeply and utterly uncomfortable?

I was on this ship, you see. It used to takes ages to get places before proper boat engines, let me tell you. Planes are just making it ridiculous.

[Bad at staying on topic? Yep, pretty much most of the time. Anyway, Ginsberg is reading too now, which means he should turn it out a little bit more on his direction.]

Why would it make me uncomfortable? It's just a book.

That's right, I keep forgetting you're really, really old. Is that offensive? I mean, to call you really old? You don't look really old.

[He's just going to be shaking his head.]

Because it's so... I mean, I'm all for freedom of speech. I definitely think people should be able to write what they want. It's just... do people actually do this stuff?

Can't really be offensive if it's true, can it?

[Excuse him moving his arm to scratch his beard a little. Don't worry, he'll put it right back afterwards.]

Oh, loads of people. But it's not really like it's written here at all. A lot more discussion and less dancing inner goddesses.

Why, the idea of the handcuffs putting you off?

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