Thursday, dinner time.

[x-crowdofone.livejournal.com]

In which a crack squad of concerned friends wielding weapons of mass destruction pry Doug out of his room to eat something.



Doug: Scene: Doug is in his room. He's still in his pajamas from the night before, fairly obviously has gotten little to no sleep, and generally looks pretty haggard. Unreal Tournament is playing on his computer, and Drowning Pool can be heard from his earphones. Doug is singing along. "One, nothing wrong with me, two, nothing wrong with me..."

Jamie: Jamie knocks on the door--again--frowns at the lack of answer--again--and turns to the rest of the group. "I think it's time for the heavy artillery."

Lorna: Lorna flips through her recipe book, "You all have about hmm, twenty minutes. Any more and I kill you all for ruining my food."

Marie-Ange: "Heavy artillary? You are going to knock down the door?"

Jamie: "No, I'm going to politely unlock the door with the room key Doug forgot I had and then send them in." He grins at Artie and 'Yana. "They're the heavy artillery."

Paige: "Am I the only one who hasn't lost the key to her dormatory?" Paige asked, watching Lorna flip through the recipe book with interest.

Jamie: "You guys know what to do, right?" Artie and 'Yana nod, and Artie grins and pops up a little cartoon of the two of them with giant cartoony puppy eyes.

Lorna: "That is just too adorable for words. I'm out of here." Lorna snaps the book shut, "20 minutes" she repeats then heads downstairs.

Jamie: Jamie grins at Paige and Marie-Ange. "Bet they have him out of there in five?"

Marie-Ange: "Only five if he tries really hard. I think we could get Artie and Yana to get Jono out of his room." She pauses, and frowns thoughtfully. "On a good day, anyway. But Doug has no chance."

Jamie: "That's the idea." Jamie unlocks the door and opens it quietly. "Showtime, you two."

Doug: Doug continues with his computer game, oblivious to the door opening.

Jamie: His orgy of escapist destruction is interrupted, however, by a small but persistent hand tugging on his sleeve.

Marie-Ange: "Wow. Doug has very, very loud taste in music."

Doug: Doug starts and turns, pulling his earphones out and turning down the music.

Illyana: "Jamie says you are not eating," 'Yana says once she has his attention, in her very best oh-look-at-the-adorably-concerned-little-kid voice. "You should not skip meals like that. You will be sick."

Artie: Behind her, Artie flashes an image of a little cartoon-Doug projectile-vomiting green goop.

Doug: Doug sighs and slumps his shoulders defeatedly. "He sent you guys in, didn't he."

Illyana: "He said . . ." 'Yana's face scrunches up in an entirely theatrical memory effort. "That if we asked you nicely you would come out and eat, and if you didn't he would pick you up and carry you."

Artie: Artie's helpful picture is of a group of very large Jamies surrounding a starved-looking Doug.

Doug: "Which answers my other question. Who's out there with him?" Doug has a sneaking suspicion, and looks even more defeated.

Illyana: "Marie-Ange and Paige. And they are very worried about you too. Are you going to come out and eat now? It smells very good."

Artie: Smiling happy mini-Doug is now shoveling large amounts of food into his mouth.

Doug: Doug winces visibly at the mention of Paige.

Jamie: Jamie notices the wince and blinks at Paige in sudden comprehension. "Did he run into you last night when he went for snacks?" he asks softly.

Paige: Paige bites her lip and nods a little, her eyes to the ground.

Doug: Doug slowly turns off his computer and gets up, holding 'Yana and Artie each by a hand. "I guess I can't stay here forever, can I."

Marie-Ange: Marie-Ange looks at Paige, and glances into Doug's room. "Did he run off benig nervous? He did that to me too." she whispers.

Illyana: "No you can't," Yana says brightly. "There are too many things that are not in your room. Like marble races and food."

Doug: "Food. Yeah, I've heard that Lorna gets a little crazy when people don't go along with her meal plans. We better get going." Slowly, they head toward the door.

Paige: Paige looks up to give Marie-Ange a helpless look. "Sort of yes..."

Doug: At the door, Doug looks at Jamie. "You fight dirty, man."
Doug: Doug very carefully looks everywhere but at Paige.

Jamie: "Hey, if you hadn't blown up Poo-Flinging George I wouldn't've had to send in the Terrible Twosome." He grins down at Artie and Illyana. "I bet Lorna's got something special for you guys downstairs. Good job."

Paige: Paige tries to smile a little at him, tilting her head. "We were worried about you."

Jamie: The kids run off downstairs to wheedle from Lorna, who feeds them brownies a la mode.

Doug: Doug wrings his hands, staring at the floor. "I'm sorry for worrying everyone. I just..." he trails off, scuffing his foot.

Marie-Ange: "Yes, we were. If you were upset, you should have talked to us." Marie-Ange nods.

Doug: "I just...I can't..." Doug visibly draws in on himself.

Jamie: "What, you just thought you'd kick me out of my room all day when you haven't been here a week yet?" Jamie grins. "Man, you have to plan better than that."

Marie-Ange: As the students leave to head to the kitchen, Marie-Ange falls in next to Doug. "Doug, pourquoi juste n'avez-vous pas parlé à quelqu'un ?" she says, quietly. Doug, why were you not speaking to anybody?

Doug: "Puisque...puisque je ne peux pas juste." Since...since I cannot just
Doug: "J'ai fabriqué un imbécile à partir de me." I made an idiot out of myself.

Marie-Ange: Marie-Ange shakes her head. "C'est stupide. Je suis désolé pour être grossier, mais il est. Vous pouvez toujours parler à quelqu'un ici. Parfois vous ne devez pas même parler. Et vous n'êtes pas un imbécile." That is stupid. I am sorry to be coarse, but it is. You can always speak to somebody here. Sometimes you do not even have to speak. And you are not stupid.
Marie-Ange: She looks up. "Jamie, can you tell Doug he's not stupid, please?"

Jamie: Jamie meanwhile matches step with Paige. "It's not your fault," he mutters. "Guy's just having trouble adjusting to the cutegirlosity around here. I thought it was kinda intimidating at first too, and I think he's a lot shyer than I am."

Jamie: Jamie grins over his shoulder. "Dude, nobody who's that good at Unreal Tournament can be stupid."

Doug: Doug scowls at Jamie's back. "Playing coordinated six-on-one isn't exactly fair, y'know."

Jamie: "Yeah, well, you killed two of me anyway. And I wasn't trying to play fair, I was trying to get you to acknowledge the rest of the world."

Doug: "Yeah, well, mission accomplished." Doug continues to be careful to avoid looking at Paige for fear of just losing it right there.

Jamie: "Yeah, well . . . let's ditch the girls after we eat and talk about it, OK? It can't be the end of the world, there aren't any superintelligent space monkeys."

Lorna: A fork zings through the air and imbeds itself in the wall of the hallway.

Doug: Doug gulps. "Um, I'm thinking this is a bad sign."

Jamie: ''That is the signal for supper!'" Jamie quotes under his breath.

Lorna: Lorna's voice comes cheerfully from the kitchen, "Good timing, folks. Doug...we reserve moron status for those who have been here longer. You need more seniority to pull this kind of thing.
Lorna: Now, get a plate and make yourself a fajita."

Doug: Doug grabs a plate and looks around at everyone, a little choked up. "Thanks, guys." He then summons up all of his nerve and looks hesitantly at Paige. "I'm sorry."

Paige: "Me too, chickpea," Paige replies with a little smile.

Doug: Doug sits down and looks away. "I didn't handle that very well."

Marie-Ange: "Doug is one of those tan things that Ms. Munroe puts in salads?" Marie-Ange smiles.

Lorna: Lorna bursts into giggles and hands out plates to everyone else.

Jamie: "Paige calls everybody chickpea even though thousands of other vegetables exist." Jamie grins. "Doug--look, don't worry about it, believe me when I tell you people have been much worse idiots."

Doug: Doug sighs. "Doesn't feel like it from where I'm sitting."

Marie-Ange: "Everyone is stupid once in a while. You just got it over early."

Paige: "At least your little bit of idiotness didn't involve mass destruction, huh? Most do here, I've noticed."

Doug: "I think I have unexplored potential for stupidity."

Marie-Ange: "Or underwear!"

Jamie: "Yeah, well, right now you have unexplored potential for eating fajitas. And I'm hungry, so you must be starving. C'mon, food makes stuff better."

Doug: Doug takes a tentative bite. "This is really good, Lorna. Thank you so much."

Jamie: "This wasn't what I meant when I said get her to cook for you," Jamie says around a mouthful of fajita. "But hey, results are results."

Lorna: "What exactly did you mean, Jamie?" Lorna asks suspiciously.

Jamie: "I meant ask you nicely. Preferably with lots of flattery."

Lorna: "I suppose that's better. Flattery will get you everywhere."

Jamie: Jamie waves an empty plate. "Will it get me seconds?"

Lorna: Lorna shrugs, "Of course."

Translation services provided by Babelfish. May not be exact.

Comments

[x-skin.livejournal.com]

If you want translation help that actually gets it right, rather than Babelfish, I speak French and would be happy to help. :)

WOO!

[x-tarot.livejournal.com]

That would be fantastic, thank you. I try to keep the actual French to a bare minimum, but sometimes it just can't be avoided.

As I understand it, bablefish doesn't do -too- badly, it just kind of barfs on sentence structure?

(Someone remind me why I took a character who speaks a language that I don't?)

Re: WOO!

[x-skin.livejournal.com]

(Oh, I did too. Angelo's English/Spanish bilingual, and my Spanish is extremely limited at best. *rolleyes*)

Just mail me any sentences you want translated!

*grin*

[x-cypher.livejournal.com]

My Spanish is good. My French is bad. I just need Doug to stop hanging around Marie-Ange and interact with Angelo and Manny, once he gets there. ;-)

You help with French, I'll help with Spanish.

Heh.

[x-tarot.livejournal.com]

My spanish is mediocre, my latin is bad, my french is non-existant, my german is SO Bad that I can't actually say "I do not speak German" in German.

*grin*

Re: Heh.

[x-skin.livejournal.com]

I used to speak German (or school German), but I've forgotten most of it. When I tried to call a friend in Switzerland, it took me fifteen minutes to manage "Can I speak to Martin, please?", which isn't even complicated. Luckily, Martin speaks English...

However, I think "I don't speak German" is "Ich habe nicht Deutsch". Don't quote me on that, though.

*grin*

Re: *grin*

[x-skin.livejournal.com]

It's a deal.