тнe oɴce-ler (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
truffulacide) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
mayfield_logs2012-05-14 10:42 pm
truffulacide) wrote in mayfield_logs2012-05-14 10:42 pm
Entry tags:
❀ Shut up and eat! [CLOSED]
Who: The Once-ler, Rapunzel, and Audrey
What: Mother's Day shenanigans at 917 Bilko, starring: a chronic whiner, Ms. Most-Certainly-Not-A-Princess, and the girl who loved trees.IN 3D!
When: May 13 (backdated)
Warnings: Nothing!
[waking up strange is not something Once-ler is accustomed to (although he should be considering the type of town he's in), and it's even worse when it's a kind of oddness that doesn't even have a name. the thing it comes closest to being branded as is restlessness; like there's something he ought to be doing right now, something grand and very obviously important, but what that might be is anyone's guess. it nags at him from the moment he wakes up and turns his head, sleepy eyes falling upon the smaller figure that's laying scootched away from him on the furthest end of the bed. that's when the feelings start - the nagging but not wholly bad emotions that tell him to do something, anything, to show that he cares.
- wait, what? what's there to care about? where did this even come from? scratch that, this IS unpleasant. he's not having any of this, thanks very much. quietly, he gets out of bed and tiptoes to the dresser to get some clean clothes because, even if he has to spend the rest of the morning pacing around the yard or, heck, up and down the block, there's no way he's going to dwell on this. distractions are awesome like that.
it's when he takes his first step outside the house that the first although... starts gnawing at his brain. as long as he's out, he might as well swing by the store and pick up more flour and eggs. you can never have enough eggs.
and chocolate. and flowers. and, as he finds out roughly two hours later when he returns home with bags crammed in his arms, stuffed animals. how that teddy bear found its way into his grocery bags is a mystery, but he supposes that's the risk you take when you grab anything that even looks remotely adorable, regardless of price or size. he's pretty sure there's a stuffed duck in here somewhere, too. this got out of control real fast.
by the time either of his two non-droned housemates wake up, Once-ler will already be at the stove cooking. there's already two plates stacked to the top with pancakes on the kitchen table, laying amidst a sea of flowers and boxed chocolates, and he shows no sign of stopping anytime soon if the state of his frying pan is anything to go by.]
What: Mother's Day shenanigans at 917 Bilko, starring: a chronic whiner, Ms. Most-Certainly-Not-A-Princess, and the girl who loved trees.
When: May 13 (backdated)
Warnings: Nothing!
[waking up strange is not something Once-ler is accustomed to (although he should be considering the type of town he's in), and it's even worse when it's a kind of oddness that doesn't even have a name. the thing it comes closest to being branded as is restlessness; like there's something he ought to be doing right now, something grand and very obviously important, but what that might be is anyone's guess. it nags at him from the moment he wakes up and turns his head, sleepy eyes falling upon the smaller figure that's laying scootched away from him on the furthest end of the bed. that's when the feelings start - the nagging but not wholly bad emotions that tell him to do something, anything, to show that he cares.
- wait, what? what's there to care about? where did this even come from? scratch that, this IS unpleasant. he's not having any of this, thanks very much. quietly, he gets out of bed and tiptoes to the dresser to get some clean clothes because, even if he has to spend the rest of the morning pacing around the yard or, heck, up and down the block, there's no way he's going to dwell on this. distractions are awesome like that.
it's when he takes his first step outside the house that the first although... starts gnawing at his brain. as long as he's out, he might as well swing by the store and pick up more flour and eggs. you can never have enough eggs.
and chocolate. and flowers. and, as he finds out roughly two hours later when he returns home with bags crammed in his arms, stuffed animals. how that teddy bear found its way into his grocery bags is a mystery, but he supposes that's the risk you take when you grab anything that even looks remotely adorable, regardless of price or size. he's pretty sure there's a stuffed duck in here somewhere, too. this got out of control real fast.
by the time either of his two non-droned housemates wake up, Once-ler will already be at the stove cooking. there's already two plates stacked to the top with pancakes on the kitchen table, laying amidst a sea of flowers and boxed chocolates, and he shows no sign of stopping anytime soon if the state of his frying pan is anything to go by.]
no subject
I'll take your input, but that's all! You can be my...my co-pilot.
no subject
no subject
[that settled, he goes back to looking down at the wheel, trying to figure out his next move.]
How'd you do that thing where you made it move? [he starts looking for a switch or lever of some sort.] I want to go backwards.
[he hits nudges something and whatever it is activates the turn signals. he blinks, confused.]
no subject
no subject
[he reaches down and moves the stick shift backwards onto the R. at once, the car starts drifting again, this time backwards.]
I think it's working!
no subject
no subject
[the car? still drifting backwards. it's already pulling out into the street.]
no subject
[oh god] Now push it to "F," that's forward.
no subject
he does just what she says and it stops going backwards. this is the point where he decides it'd be a good time to straighten it out, so he twists the steering wheel all the way around until they're properly aligned and free to start cruising down the street.
he looks quite pleased with himself.]
no subject
she may be holding her breath right now IF THEY CAN MAKE IT DOWN THE END OF THE BLOCK UNHARMED THAT'S A GOOD SIGN...]
no subject
his eyes fall on the radio, lighting up. idly, he reaches for the knob and starts playing around with it.
...right as a squirrel darts in the middle of the street.]
no subject
Look out!
[JESUS TAKE THE WHEEL except audrey will be taking the wheel as turning sharply to the left seems their best option right now]
no subject
What are- AAAAAAH!
[it's hard to say what's louder: the squealing tires or his own shrieking. he has NO idea what's going on, NO idea why she's doing this, and absolutely NO IDEA why he ever thought it was such a good idea to make Ms. Crazy Eyes over here his co-polite.]
STOPPIT! [he tries to make a grab for it, but all that accomplishes is a whole lot more swerving.] Give it back, gi-
[and then a drone child from across the street accidentally rolls the ball they were playing with in the middle of the road and Once-ler turns as white as chalk.]
...Take it back, take it back now!
no subject
no subject
Which one is it?! [he's looking down frantically at his feet for the proper pedal. they both look so similar!]
no subject
no subject
A-AAH!
[they start skidding until he slams down on the brakes, the tail-end of the car spinning until it collides with something - namely, the trunk of the aforementioned tree.
good news, though! they've stopped! and they're still alive, so...bonus points.]
no subject
If you guessed Audrey you were right.]
no subject
he never thought he'd be so happy to have grass in his face. truly, this is a day of miracles.]
no subject
... That was pretty good for your first try!
no subject
D - Do me a favor?
no subject
no subject
[face, meet ground. again.]
no subject
I mean, we didn't kill anything! Or hit anything too hard, which is more than I can say for my first time driving.
no subject
[that ain't a good sign. when he speaks again, his voice is understandably muffled 'cause, you know, faceinground.jpg.]
Then - you - can take us home. Get a...a phone book to sit on. Make a lil' cushion so you can see over the wheel. [he lifts an arm and flops it about, blindly pointing to a house.] Think there was one on the doorstep over...somewhere.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)