Rogue

After a brief stop in the kitchen for the necessary supplies, they were in the rec. room. She sat the sodas down on the table, making her way to the television where she spotted Kurt's little way of reserving the TV. Pulling the piece of paper from its taped position on the top of the screen, she raised an eyebrow at Kurt. "What exactly are you smoking, and where can I get some?"

Because, really. Anything that brought about the idea to do something like that had to be good. Setting the picture down on the table, she took a seat on the couch and cracked open one of the sodas, tossing the remote control to Kurt. "Let's watch the South get their asses handed to them, in Technicolor. You know what channel it's on, right?"

Kurt

Kurt deposited the bowl of still piping hot popcorn and the box of HoHos on the table and then, tail twitching in anticipation, watched as Rogue headed to the TV and pulled his note off the screen. Gott, he couldn't wait until everyone - well, maybe not Logan - saw those. Kitty had totally lived up to her reputation as a computer goddess making the verdammt things.

"What exactly are you smoking, and where can I get some?" she asked, one eyebrow twitching up as she turned to look at him and he flopped back on the couch, snickering yet again at the beauty that was Herr Professor photomanipped into a technicolor mohawk.

"Ha! It's just my natural creativity," he answered between fits of giggles as he leaned forward to extract the small brush from his pocket and toss it on the table next to the soda. For one thing it was uncomfortable to sit on and for another she should know she wasn't going to get off the hook this time. "Well, and Kaetzchen's computer genius," he added, his tail snaking out to snag a soda as she came over to join him on the couch.

"It's phantastich, isn't it? You should see the one with dreadlocks." Grinning, he passed the soda to his hands and popped the lid to take a long drink - Gott, the beauty that was liquefied sugar and caffeine - while his tail accepted the proffered remote.

"Let's watch the South get their asses handed to them, in technicolor. You know what channel it's on, right?"

"Mmm, ass-handing is always better in technicolor - unless it involves Errol Flynn, of course," he qualified quickly. "His ass-handing skills are unbeaten even in black and white," he added as he flipped through the channels in search of the right one. "And pfft! Of course I know," he assured her, flipping quickly back in case he'd missed the channel...and then forward again because apparently he hadn't. But it was just a minor technicality because he knew the channel, he just wasn't exactly sure where to find it amidst the several hundred on this verdammt cable service.

Twenty channels down the line, though, he finally lucked out. "See, told you!" He leaned over to bump her companionably with his shoulder as his tail pulled the popcorn into his lap and the opening credits began to roll. "Got it totally under control," he informed her through a mouthful of popcorn as he offered it to her.

"Too bad we can't get away with drinking in here," he added thoughtfully. "There's gotta be a good drinking game in this movie..."

Rogue
—
"Mmm, ass-handing is always better in technicolor - unless it involves Errol Flynn, of course. His ass-handing skills are unbeaten even in black and white." She rolled her eyes. It might be a bad idea to point out that Errol Flynn's movies were all scripted. He himself did none of the actual ass kicking. That might shatter Kurt's hopes and dreams, though, so she decided not to. "And pfft! Of course I know,"

She simply sat back and smirked as he flipped through channel after channel, doubling back at one point. Right. He knew where it was. Finally, he found it. She was positive that it was an accident, though. "See, told you!"

She made a face as he bumped into her, but kept her mouth closed. "Got it totally under control." She tried to avert her eyes from the partially chewed food in his mouth. She failed. "Didn't your mother ever teach you not to talk with your mouth full?" Reaching over, she grabbed a handful of popcorn and frowned. "Forget I brought that up."

"Too bad we can't get away with drinking in here. There's gotta be a good drinking game in this movie..." She took a swig of her soda and nodded. "There is one. It's called drink until they actually sound Southern. It's a tough game."

She leaned back a bit as the movie started, readying herself for the boredom that was about to ensue. She couldn't remember ever finishing the whole movie. She'd fast-forwarded through a lot of it. Most of the story, she knew. "Yay, a war! We're going to win!" "Oh, crap we're losing. Don't tell anyone." " Ouch... you seen my leg?" She'd learned all about it when she was younger. A slightly more factual version of events than the kids who lived near her got, since she didn't go to school. Irene was pretty honest about it. Of course, her honesty came with the disclaimer that if Rogue ever pointed out the truth of it to the locals, she'd likely have a mob after her. Even though the war had been over a hundred years ago, people were still bitter.

But she wasn't going to think about Irene. Or Mississippi. Or any of that. Focusing on the screen, she zeroed in on her first nitpick. "For twins, those two don't look anything alike."

Kurt
—
"Didn't your mother ever teach you not to talk with your mouth full?" He just raised an eyebrow and gave her a sardonic look as she reached over, grabbed a handful of popcorn and frowned. "Forget I brought that up," she amended quickly and he smiled slightly before continuing.

"Too bad we can't get away with drinking in here. There's gotta be a good drinking game in this movie..." She took a swig of her soda and nodded. "There is one. It's called drink until they actually sound Southern. It's a tough game."

"Mmmm, I think I like that one," he agreed, resting the popcorn bowl in his lap and settling his soda on the table with the help of his tail. "Because it'd take a whooole lot of beer to get there. Probably almost as much," he added, "as it would take if you drank until Rhett's hair looks clean. I'm starting to think this movie might be better drunk."

She leaned back a bit as the movie started and he settled back next to her, pulling his knees up comfortably.

"For twins, those two don't look anything alike."

"Point," he agreed, giving the men in question a critical once-over, "but they do get closer to a real Southern accent than most of the rest of the cast," he added in their defense. "Which admittedly isn't saying much," he conceded with a grin, peering at her from the corner of his eyes as he waited for the obligatory lecture.

Rogue
—
"Mmmm, I think I like that one. Because it'd take a whooole lot of beer to get there. Probably almost as much as it would take if you drank until Rhett's hair looks clean." She snorted. There probably wasn't enough beer in the world for that one. "I'm starting to think this movie might be better drunk." She nodded in agreement. "It probably would. They get to drink a lot, why shouldn't we?"

She had a sudden recollection of shouting the line, "I'm very drunk and I intend on getting still drunker before this evening's over." to someone. Frowning, she tried to remember when and who and where and why. She kept coming up with a boat. She'd never been drunk on a boat that she could remember, though. So that couldn't be right. Unless it was the boathouse. She'd been drunk there a few times... was she quoting old movies at the party they'd had last month? Thank God most of that was a blur.

The movie started, drawing her attention. "For twins, those two don't look anything alike." Score one for the Rogue.

"Point, but they do get closer to a real Southern accent than most of the rest of the cast." She glanced over at him, ready to inform him that he was closer to having a real Southern accent than most of the rest of the cast. He seemed to realize the same and amended his statement, "Which admittedly isn't saying much."

She nodded, eyes focused on the movie. For a few moments, at least. She had something to say, and she was going to say it even if she tried not to. "How hard do you think it would have been for them to find someone not British sounding for the lead role? I mean, there has to be at least one actress somewhere that could pull off a halfway decent accent. She doesn't have to be Southern. She could be Canadian for all I care. It's just odd seeing the Brits fighting so that..." She trailed off as one of the Tarleton twins informed Scarlett that Ashley was marrying his cousin, Melanie. "And why the inbreeding?! Good God, the inbreeding! I don't care if it's factually correct. I know that people do that. I know that people did that. But really, as if there ain't enough negative stereotypes in the movie already, they gotta throw in the cousin thing, too!"

She closed her mouth, realizing that she'd been close to shouting. Turning to Kurt, she frowned. "Sorry. I'm done now."

Kurt
—
Apparently he'd scored at least some points with that statement, because she didn't protest and went back to watching the movie, so he grabbed another handful of popcorn and tried to get into appreciating the supposed 'glory days' of the Old South. The peace didn't last long, though, which was well over half the fun of watching this movie with her. He didn't think they'd ever gotten more than halfway through before she'd given up in disgust, but it was well worth the entertainment value while it lasted...not that much of the entertainment came from the screen.

"How hard do you think it would have been for them to find someone not British sounding for the lead role? I mean, there has to be at least one actress somewhere that could pull off a halfway decent accent. She doesn't have to be Southern. She could be Canadian for all I care. It's just odd seeing the Brits fighting so that..." She trailed off for a moment and he shook slightly, trying not to laugh out loud at her tirade - only because spraying popcorn would be rude, of course, not because she'd kick his ass...or try to.

"Well, they didn't want them to sound ignorant, did they? Go for that classy British accent to raise the cultural bar on the Old South..." he suggested, prodding her lightly in the midriff with his tail as he winked teasingly at her. Yup, he just kept confirming that he had an abysmally low instinct for self-preservation. He and Bobby should probably form some kind of support group or something. Maybe a twelve step program.

"And why the inbreeding?! Good God, the inbreeding! Oh, this was a good one, much better than Scarlett's improbable eyebrow of doom, and he shifted his attention entirely away from the TV screen to appreciate it. Couldn't get the full effect without watching her start to turn red in the face, after all. I don't care if it's factually correct. I know that people do that. I know that people did that. But really, as if there ain't enough negative stereotypes in the movie already, they gotta throw in the cousin thing, too!"

"Sorry. I'm done now."

"Well, y'know," he offered consideringly, eyes turned back to the TV now. "Without accents they probably figured they needed to throw in something so we wouldn't forget it was the South...well, besides the slaves and the plantations and stuff."

"Oh, and no worries, Schatz," he assured her with a cheery grin. "We'll just tuck that soapbox away for the next time they offend your Southern sensibilities. Though you know," his tail snaked out to lift the small, wooden handled brush from the table and wave it in front of her, "a good brushing can be very relaxing..."

Rogue
—
"Well, they didn't want them to sound ignorant, did they? Go for that classy British accent to raise the cultural bar on the Old South..." She rolled her eyes, deciding that it might be a bad idea to go off on him when they were having such a lovely time. Instead, she continued on with her ranting until she felt she'd yelled enough.

"Well, y'know, without accents they probably figured they needed to throw in something so we wouldn't forget it was the South...well, besides the slaves and the plantations and stuff." She took another sip of her drink and looked at him. That was an interesting point. Not that she really cared. It could have been the most interesting point in the world, but if it didn't help her argument, she just plain wouldn't listen to it. "As if the Confederate flags everywhere weren't a clue. They should have just done it the easy way, thrown in a trailer or two. Because that's all there is in the South. Trailers. It's one giant, shiny trailer park. The rich folk have double wides. Just ask Sam. He... well, no. Sam actually is a hick. Never mind. Ask someone else. Besides, he's from Kentucky. That state couldn't even make up its damn mind about what side it was on."

"Oh, and no worries, Schatz. We'll just tuck that soapbox away for the next time they offend your Southern sensibilities. Though you know, a good brushing can be very relaxing..." Why hadn't she seen that coming? Taking the brush from him, she looked at it and frowned. That was probably the real reason he'd asked her to watch the movie. All a big ploy to get brushed. It had been a mistake, buying him that cat brush. A big mistake. "I don't know nothin' 'bout brushin' no... fine."

Kurt
—
"As if the Confederate flags everywhere weren't a clue. They should have just done it the easy way, thrown in a trailer or two. Because that's all there is in the South. Trailers. It's one giant, shiny trailer park. The rich folk have double wides. Just ask Sam. He... well, no. Sam actually is a hick. Never mind. Ask someone else. Besides, he's from Kentucky. That state couldn't even make up its damn mind about what side it was on."

"Shame they were filming before the days of trailer parks," he agreed mock-mournfully. "That would have totally set the scene. After all, just imagine the icon of Gone with the Wind being a high end double wide instead of Tara. And Sam's a very nice hick," he added in the other boy's defense, poking her again with his tail. He didn't bother, of course, to point out that in Germany the Bavarians had kind of the same reputation as Southerners did in the US. Besides, it was time to move on to more important things...and the second of his ulterior motives.

"Oh, and no worries, Schatz. We'll just tuck that soapbox away for the next time they offend your Southern sensibilities. Though you know, a good brushing can be very relaxing..." And, really, it was just as relaxing for the brusher as the brushee...almost...

Taking the brush from him, she looked at it and frowned and he plastered on his best angelic look as he wrapped his tail neatly around his hocks and waited, the beginnings of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

"I don't know nothin' 'bout brushin' no... fine."

Ha, victory! "That'll teach you to buy people gag gifts," he admonished her cheerfully as he skinned his shirt off, dropped it on the couch next to him and flopped belly-down across her lap without waiting for an invitation. "Besides, you know you love it," he added as he folded his arms and rested his cheek on them so he could still see the television. "Who can resist a giant lapcat while watching television, hm?"

Rogue
—
She simply bowed her head. As far as hicks came, Sam was indeed a very nice hick. As Kurt stripped off his shirt and threw himself onto her lap, she grunted. "You're such a fatass."

"That'll teach you to buy people gag gifts." Funny, because he was getting a flea collar for his next birthday. "Besides, you know you love it." He was getting himself situated and she was trying her best not to just pin him down so he'd hold still. And yeah... if she thought about it, she did enjoy it. In a weird, brushing-my-brother kind of way. "Who can resist a giant lapcat while watching television, hm?"

She started to brush his back, glancing back at the television. "Bigass lapcat." Not that she liked to think of Kurt as a pet, but he was probably about the closest she'd ever have to one. Except, of course, the plushies. But Kurt's fur was thick enough that she could actually touch it lightly. And that was something. Pausing to pull the dead hair out of the brush, she frowned at the television again. "Can we watch something else? Anything else?"

Kurt
—
"You're such a fatass," she informed him as he flopped on her, but he ignored the comment for the moment in favor of making himself comfortable...which was a bit of a challenge when he was sprawled partially across her knees. A bit of squirming took care of it, though, and he settled in contentedly as he admonished her about the advisability of giving gag gifts.

As she started to work the brush across his back his eyes slipped half shut and he signed in contentment. "Bigass lapcat," she muttered and he flicked his tail up to smack her lightly upside the head - careful to stay away from bare skin, as the spade of his tail was one of the few places where the fur was thin enough that accidental contact posed a real threat.

"Leave my ass out of this," he grumbled good-naturedly. "I spend years eating everything in sight trying to put on a few pounds and when I finally manage what do I get? Now I'm fat. It's crushing my poor, fragile self-esteem you know!" It probably would have sounded more accusatory if he hadn't started to purr right about then. A low, mostly inaudible rumble deep in his chest that made his words vibrate slightly.

"And besides, you have bony knees, y'know," he added, squirming slightly by way of illustration as she paused, probably to clean out the brush.

"Can we watch something else? Anything else?" she asked, almost plaintively..

"You know, if we change the channel now that might be a new record for bailing on poor Scarlett," he countered, doing a pretty sorry job of sounding mournful through the warm rumble of the purr he couldn't really be bothered trying to stifle. "But I suppose, all things considered," he shifted to look up at her through his bangs as his tail prodded her hand in encouragement to get back to work, "that we can find something else...if you'll do Scarlett's 'As God is my witness' schtick," he finished, his tail reaching to snag the remote from where he'd left it on the table and pass it up to his hand.

"It'd be much more moving with a Southern accent, after all," he pointed out with a grin before dropping his head back down on his crossed forearms. Besides which, a viewing of Gone with the Wind, however abbreviated, couldn't be considered complete until she'd been harassed into quoting at least one good-sized chunk of dialogue in a proper Southern drawl.

Rogue
—
"Leave my ass out of this. I spend years eating everything in sight trying to put on a few pounds and when I finally manage what do I get? Now I'm fat. It's crushing my poor, fragile self-esteem you know!" Yeah, his poor, fragile self-esteem sure did seem crushed. Because when normal people were offended, they purred. "And besides, you have bony knees, y'know." She rolled her eyes, still brushing him.

"Yeah. Knees will do that, on account of there being those bones right there." She was really fed up with the movie. And the brush was getting all gunked up. "Can we watch something else? Anything else?"

"You know, if we change the channel now that might be a new record for bailing on poor Scarlett." She shrugged.

"Scarlett doesn't care. She's still got Tara."

"But I suppose, all things considered, that we can find something else...if you'll do Scarlett's 'As God is my witness' schtick." She conked him on the back of the head lightly with the brush. Did he think she was some kind of trained monkey?

"No. I won't."

"It'd be much more moving with a Southern accent, after all." She looked up at the screen again, frowning as Scarlett made a fool of herself hitting on Ashley. Craning her neck to make sure that there wasn't anyone else nearby, she cleared her throat.

"As God is my witness... You're serious, aren't you? You're going to make me do the whole damn thing."

Hitting him with the brush again, she continued, "As God is my witness, they're not going to lick me. I'm going to live through this and when it's all over, I'll never be hungry again. No, nor any of my folk. If I have to lie, steal, cheat, or kill... As God is my witness, I'll never be hungry again. Unless Kurt eats everything in the house, in which case I'm screwed. Now change the channel."

Mariko
—
Now she had a room that didn't smell dubious and where she didn't suspect that her clothes would be just as safe in the dresser as on the floor, it was tempting just to get some sleep. The bed had seemed relatively comfortable as well, but somehow, she didn't want her first introduction to her roommate to be the other girl stumbling in on her while she was asleep. The chance of her having a conversation without waking up at all was far too high as well.

All in all, it had seemed like a much better option to at least try to be sociable. Apparently, the rec room was pretty much the place to hang out and so she headed that way, not taking too long to find her way around the school.

What she found as she entered the rec room was far from what she'd imagined though. The couch, TV and all that were fine, just like she remembered them. On the other hand, seeing the blue thing- or was that person in someone's lap, however, that was a little unexpected. She was likely intruding and possibly should have left, but the chairs were so inviting and her room so far. "Hi," she said with a tiny wave and an uncharacteristic meekness. Of course, now attention was inbound, going and hiding in her room didn't sound quite so bad. As a thought occurred to her, she raised a hand almost as though she were asking a question at school. After a moment, one finger fell forward to point at the pair. "Were you grooming?" It was only a short question, but somehow, the pace of her speech had markedly dropped by the end of it. It just seemed so unlikely.