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xp_logs2010-07-25 11:29 pm
x-skin.livejournal.com) wrote in xp_logs2010-07-25 11:29 pm
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Angelo and Jean-Paul, Sunday evening
Jean-Paul comes home to find a surprise. Welcome home, Jean-Paul, and now you've settled back in, it's prank war time!
Jean-Paul walked into his suite and paused near the entrance, the door closing quietly behind him as he narrowed his eyes at the main room. There was nothing out of place, necessarily, but... there was definitely a pink pillow on the couch that hadn't been there before. Kevin wasn't the type of person to put a pink pillow on Jean-Paul's couch. The Southerner didn't really strike Jean-Paul as being interested in accent pillows.
Walking toward his room, he listened to the quiet for a long moment before stepping inside. There was a very pink pair of jeans laying on the bed. Jean-Paul didn't own pink clothing. Kevin didn't own pink clothing. So why was there a pair of pink jeans on his bed? Pursing his lips, the Quebecois walked to the bed and picked the jeans up. They were his size. It was right about that time that he noticed a hole near one of the beltloops and blinked.
They were his jeans. He'd had them for ages.
And now they were pink.
There was absolutely nobody trying not to be heard snickering from behind him. Nobody at all.
Turning very slowly on his heel, Jean-Paul looked at the young man standing in the corner of his bedroom and felt something very like dread creeping through him. This didn't bode well at all. "Angelo," he said carefully, still holding the jeans. He glanced toward his closet, then his dresser. A bit of hot pink was sticking out of one of the mostly-closed drawers.
Oh, this wasn't good, not at all.
"Jean-Paul!" was the cheerful response. "Your door was open. Looks like somebody redecorated."
"Oui," Jean-Paul said, taking an almost tentative step toward his dresser. "Somebody." Pulling the drawer the rest of the way open, he let his shoulders sag. All of his old, cotton shirts were now bright pink. And there seemed to be a good deal more cloth in that drawer than he remembered.
Pulling one piece out, he eyed the fabric. "What is this?"
"A gift." He was grinning far too broadly to be innocent. "100% synthetic, I checked. Just in case."
Jean-Paul didn't bother to point out the non-practicality of a sleeveless synthetic shirt. Instead, his lips pursed and he pulled out the rest of the tank-tops, sitting them neatly on the top of the dresser. "Do I want to know what you have put in the other drawers?"
"Other things", was the breezily unhelpful response. "An' I want you to know you brought this on yourself."
"I?" Jean-Paul pulled the next drawer down open after closing the first, finding his boxers all dyed pink as well. And there were his socks. Pink. "How did I bring this on myself?" He held up a pair of nearly fuchsia boxers. He couldn't even remember what colour they'd been originally. But now... they were very, very pink. So pink, in fact, that they sort of hurt his eyes.
"If you think about it, it'll come back to you. Think about Joyita, if you need a hint."
The dog?
What had he done to the dog?
"I did nothing -- " Jean-Paul broke off, then, and found himself half-smiling despite the fact that all of his non-synthetic clothing was now pink. "Ah." Glancing back at his dresser drawers, he said, "But she was so pretty with her fur shaved in the zig-zag pattern..." He had a moment to wonder how it was that he could remember that so clearly when so much else in his life was a massive question mark. Perhaps these small things hadn't seemed important enough to Shrine for the man to ruin them.
"She was. An' now your clothes look pretty!" Angelo countered triumphantly. "I left you one outfit like it was. For work."
Jean-Paul worried for a moment that Angelo had actually coloured the synthetic clothing as well, but a quick check showed him that all of it was as he'd left it. That didn't seem as important now, given the developments with Kevin's mutation, but Jean-Paul felt the caution was merited. "Merci," he said, sarcasm dripping from the syllables.
Retaliation.
He needed to retaliate. And it had to be something good.
"You're welcome", Angelo said with a grin, starting to make his retreat towards the door. "See you around!"
Eyes following Angelo's movement out of the room, Jean-Paul tried to figure out if he could just wear the synthetic clothing all the time until he could go shopping to get something that wasn't quite so heinously pink.
Yes, his retaliation was going to have to be very good.
Jean-Paul walked into his suite and paused near the entrance, the door closing quietly behind him as he narrowed his eyes at the main room. There was nothing out of place, necessarily, but... there was definitely a pink pillow on the couch that hadn't been there before. Kevin wasn't the type of person to put a pink pillow on Jean-Paul's couch. The Southerner didn't really strike Jean-Paul as being interested in accent pillows.
Walking toward his room, he listened to the quiet for a long moment before stepping inside. There was a very pink pair of jeans laying on the bed. Jean-Paul didn't own pink clothing. Kevin didn't own pink clothing. So why was there a pair of pink jeans on his bed? Pursing his lips, the Quebecois walked to the bed and picked the jeans up. They were his size. It was right about that time that he noticed a hole near one of the beltloops and blinked.
They were his jeans. He'd had them for ages.
And now they were pink.
There was absolutely nobody trying not to be heard snickering from behind him. Nobody at all.
Turning very slowly on his heel, Jean-Paul looked at the young man standing in the corner of his bedroom and felt something very like dread creeping through him. This didn't bode well at all. "Angelo," he said carefully, still holding the jeans. He glanced toward his closet, then his dresser. A bit of hot pink was sticking out of one of the mostly-closed drawers.
Oh, this wasn't good, not at all.
"Jean-Paul!" was the cheerful response. "Your door was open. Looks like somebody redecorated."
"Oui," Jean-Paul said, taking an almost tentative step toward his dresser. "Somebody." Pulling the drawer the rest of the way open, he let his shoulders sag. All of his old, cotton shirts were now bright pink. And there seemed to be a good deal more cloth in that drawer than he remembered.
Pulling one piece out, he eyed the fabric. "What is this?"
"A gift." He was grinning far too broadly to be innocent. "100% synthetic, I checked. Just in case."
Jean-Paul didn't bother to point out the non-practicality of a sleeveless synthetic shirt. Instead, his lips pursed and he pulled out the rest of the tank-tops, sitting them neatly on the top of the dresser. "Do I want to know what you have put in the other drawers?"
"Other things", was the breezily unhelpful response. "An' I want you to know you brought this on yourself."
"I?" Jean-Paul pulled the next drawer down open after closing the first, finding his boxers all dyed pink as well. And there were his socks. Pink. "How did I bring this on myself?" He held up a pair of nearly fuchsia boxers. He couldn't even remember what colour they'd been originally. But now... they were very, very pink. So pink, in fact, that they sort of hurt his eyes.
"If you think about it, it'll come back to you. Think about Joyita, if you need a hint."
The dog?
What had he done to the dog?
"I did nothing -- " Jean-Paul broke off, then, and found himself half-smiling despite the fact that all of his non-synthetic clothing was now pink. "Ah." Glancing back at his dresser drawers, he said, "But she was so pretty with her fur shaved in the zig-zag pattern..." He had a moment to wonder how it was that he could remember that so clearly when so much else in his life was a massive question mark. Perhaps these small things hadn't seemed important enough to Shrine for the man to ruin them.
"She was. An' now your clothes look pretty!" Angelo countered triumphantly. "I left you one outfit like it was. For work."
Jean-Paul worried for a moment that Angelo had actually coloured the synthetic clothing as well, but a quick check showed him that all of it was as he'd left it. That didn't seem as important now, given the developments with Kevin's mutation, but Jean-Paul felt the caution was merited. "Merci," he said, sarcasm dripping from the syllables.
Retaliation.
He needed to retaliate. And it had to be something good.
"You're welcome", Angelo said with a grin, starting to make his retreat towards the door. "See you around!"
Eyes following Angelo's movement out of the room, Jean-Paul tried to figure out if he could just wear the synthetic clothing all the time until he could go shopping to get something that wasn't quite so heinously pink.
Yes, his retaliation was going to have to be very good.