InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "The squirrel mafia is after me"

eugoogoolizer (eugoogoolizer) wrote in vas_captio_rpg,
@ 2009-05-16 00:39:00

Current music:	Jem- "Crazy"
Entry tags:	!dropped, day 08, derek zoolander, gregory house, jack sparrow

Don't Like Problems, I Don't Like Stress, Don't Like To Argue, Like Tears Even Less
Who: Derek Zoolander, Gregory House, and Jack Sparrow
What: Arrival Thread
When: Day 8, early morning
Where: the forest, near the clocktower
Rating: PG-13 for language
Status: Active

Derek groaned loudly as he came to, bringing a hand to his head and sitting up slowly. It must have been a wild party night, he reflected, pursing his lips pensively. Not only could he not remember where he'd been, he sure as hell couldn't remember where he'd gone to sleep and where he was waking up. Staring around at the unfamiliar forest and melting snow, his jaw dropped. "Wow... I hope that Mugatu didn't drive me out here and forget me..." he said, not thinking about his words the way he typically didn't think about anything. Glancing up at the cloudy sky, he wondered if it was going to rain.

Just then, he realized that he could feel something wet seeping into the snakeskin seat of his designer pants. "Oh, no!" he whined, scrambling to his feet and twisting himself around to get a better look at his mud-streaked backside. "Shit! Oh, this is hella lame! Why did this have to happen to my favorite pants?" he mourned, knitting his brows together to demonstrate his chagrin. Even though he was supposed to be careful not to crease his face, since expressions caused wrinkles, he was far too emotional to avoid smiling and frowning. Making a small, frustrated sound, he attempted to wipe the mud from his pants, only succeeding in spreading the mess further.

Glancing to the side, he noticed two other men. One of them was older and wearing a blazer over a t-shirt (so tacky!) and the other looked like he'd had a whack-attack at some point during the... um... the "olden days." Derek wasn't actually sure what century pirates had been in style.

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jack_and_rum
2009-05-22 04:14 pm UTC (link)

Jack gave the older man a withering look. He wasn't going to be bothered explaining to someone who couldn't even tell when a man was playing tricks on an idiot. He knew about Burma. Had been there and plenty of other places. But this was some fun at the expense of a fool who looked like he might have been stung by an angry electric eel and talked like he might have grown up with said eel. Far away from human contact.

He wasn't perturbed long because he was falling over and then there was that box. Forgetting about the prickers in his butt, Jack picked up his hat which had tumbled into the snow when he'd fallen and situated it back on his head. He stood up with the box and eyed it curiously before wiggling his fingers above the lid in anticipation like a magician would while saying the magic words. Then he deftly lifted the lid and let out a little yell. He didn't drop the box but he held it out away from his face with a look of disgust.

"There is a small box of teeth in there. Someone with dark voodoo magic must be nearby. I don't think it would be smart to be in possession of said teeth when the owner comes to look for them." He accented the word voodoo with a lift of his brows and a wiggling of his fingers, this time in the direction of the younger man.

He glanced between the two men, the one with his permanently annoyed expression and the other who looked like he might pee his pants from excitement. "Here," he said to the older man and shoved the box at him. Then he back away two steps with his hands out defensively before turning and starting to run.

He only made it a few steps before he was tripping down over his feet again. Landing in the same pricker bush.

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vicodin_snark
2009-05-28 07:16 pm UTC (link)

It was official. He was surrounded by idiots. And not even the sort of idiots he could easily walk away from, but idiots he was stuck with. House could feel the beginnings of a headache beginning to blossom behind his eyes, rivalling the pain in his leg. His team he could walk away from, these yokels... he was stuck with.

Wonderful.

House watched the pirate fall over himself repeatedly and just shook his head. That was the sort he couldn't do anything for. Besides, looked as if he was used to falling and if it were the pricker bush that broke his fall, so be it. Honestly, the Pirate most likely had bigger problems than some prickers in his ass. Schizo-- no, that would be the other guy. House shook his head, pulling his mind away from the game of auto-diagnosis. Then again, it was more interesting than the current conversation at hand. Much, much more interesting.

"Voodoo magic?" House rolled his eyes skyward. "Puh-leze." House pulled out the journal and rifled through the rudimentary kit. Well, they'd work for now. House plucked four of the white pills and, smirking at the pirate tossed them back, swallowing them dry. "I choose to face the wrath of the unknown voodoo gods in the hopes of finding some relief. Anger the gods I shall."

Too, too easy to screw with them. Like shooting fish in a bloody barrel.

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eugoogoolizer
2009-06-01 02:58 am UTC (link)

Derek's face lit up happily when the pirate made a funny face at him, wiggling his eyebrows and saying a silly word! Derek burst out in delighted giggles. "You're whack, Mr. Pirate, but you're cool," he decided, waiting for Jack to return and patting him on the back. It was his way of showing the pirate that he had obtained the Derek Zoolander seal of approval. That was a good thing right there. He winced, though, when Jack tumbled into the exact same bush. "Whoa! Amigo, lay off the magic tea, OK?" he said fretfully.

He turned, wide-eyed and slack-jawed, to House when the older man expressed a certain level of unheard-of (for Derek) skepticism. "You want to make God angry? I don't know if that's really a good idea, Mister... don't you know that God has airplanes he can send down to run you over?" Zoolander asked, with the knowledge of one who had clearly mixed up divine power with airshows.

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