paradisa | (no subject)

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[Come midnight, Maine is not in his bed and he is not alone. He is, however, a heavy enough sleeper that he doesn't notice right away, perhaps even sidling up to and wrapping thick arms around the supple, long-haired warm body beside him. The idea that he remembers going to bed alone doesn't quite jar him awake. It's more a nagging oddity that gradually pulls him conscious.]

[Eventually he's forced to blink his eyes open and actaully look at his bedmate. He didn't recognize the face, but that's not what had him suddenly shoving back with a startled yelp and falling off the bed. No, Maine did that because the woman he thought he'd been cuddling turned out to be a guy.]

[His tumble off the heart-shaped bed caused him to knock a journal open.] WHAT THE FUCK.

[[ooc: Maine and Duke, open journal for either!]]

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[Maine was pretty much built like a slightly smaller barn then Jorge. Certainly more man then most average people but nowhere near the Spartan's bulk.]

[And a fair bit pissier, as well.]

Great. [He goes to pacing. This was ridiculous. Trapped in cave with a blind man with decorations that look like Cupid threw up.]

[ He's noticing that pissier bit. Jorge seemed fairly fine with his failing attempt to 'be the journal', and Maine seems fairly pissed off simply.. being awake. It doesn't quite register that waking up next to him was probably a nice part of that. ]

... Assuming you don't intend to sleep this event away. [ Resigned. Your pacing is a bit noisy to him. ]

Maybe I will. [It as an appealing idea, soured only by the fear that he'd end up cuddling again. UGH that was so embarrassing.]

.... Better than pacing, would assume. [ Unless Maine just had a lot of energy to work off, but it was still late night. Early morning. He thinks. There aren't any clocks in here.

Duke's going to tug the rest of this one sheet down to him. While it had been warm, Maine's temper didn't make him that comfortable with the idea of getting back up on that bed. ]

[He grumbles at that, irritated. His standby activity for when he was really in any sort of mood was to work out; he's got pent up energy in spades.]

[But when he sees that Duke is going to be crashing on the floor, he's more then willing to drop back onto the bed. Screw the shape and color, if he had it all to himself he was happy]

Don't touch me.

[ Duke spent a moment quelling the irrational urge to poke him.

It was a horrible idea. A very horrible idea.

Which is why he settled for taking another of those blankets from the bed. ]

[As soon as Maine felt the tugging of the blanket, he gripped it tightly in return and offered up a long, low growl. He didn't care if he was hte blanket hogzilla, he wasn't about to give it up that easily.]

[ This is a rather growl like noise back, Maine. Might be a bit too low, but that's Duke's voice.

He's sleeping on the floor.

He gets a second blanket.

Tugging time is a go. ]

[Yeah, that would be the reasonable compromise, wouldn't it?]

[Except Maine doesn't feel like being reasonable right now and he's really not too good on compromise in the first place. He takes the blanket with both hands and gives a healthy yank back.]

[ Something Duke may have forgotten in this 'I want another blanket'. Maine was - to his ears - much heavier. Duke's not particularly underweight, exactly, but he most definitely isn't a SPARTAN.

Maine's yank has him half over the edge of the bed. Have a grumpy - blind - stare in the correct direction, and Duke is just going to grimly keep holding onto this blanket.

If Maine tugs the blanket hard enough that they break that no touching thing, Duke's not taking the blame. ]

[Geez, this dude was stubborn. Maine gives another mighty heave at the blankets, oblivious that Duke might come with them if he doesn't let go.]

[ ... Ooops.

Hello, Maine, Duke might be somewhat awkwardly next to you again. ]

[~~Oh look they're right back where they started from~~]

[Maine grunts, not giving up his grip.] Let. Go.

[Never mind that whatever scant lighting there was to begin with is now flickering dangerously on going completely out.]

[ ~~Only now with less lighting!~~ ]

Why? You have the bed. [ Duke is, for reasons that Maine pointed out earlier, completely oblivious to these light flickering shenanigans.

He's also trying to decide if he could adapt a spell to cut the blanket in half. ]

So? [Wherein Maine admits he doesn't understand the concept of sharing.]

[And also he's a bit weirded out by the sudden lack of light.]

Bed will warm from your heat better than the floor. Wish to keep the blanket? Trade location. [ Yes, he is still stubbornly holding onto this blanket.

Duke hasn't noticed this weirded out. ]

I'll keep both. [So so stubbornly not letting go of the blanket, trying to get a foot in there to push at Duke. This is so far the worst night ever.]

Very well.[ A low grumble. Duke's pretty sure he won't be able to request more blankets from the ghosts.

So for a brief moment, there's a second source of light - little green rune-like characters about Duke - specifically his hands. Then they're both holding about half the blanket each. ]

[What. The. Everloving. Fuck ... ?]

What'd you do?

Quick alteration of a formula. [ He's taking his half of the blanket and retreating now. ]

Formula? What formula?

[He's felling out his remainder of blanket in the dim light. This is not going to cover him. :| ]

[ Duke is severely tempted to just light it up, right before completion and say 'this one'. Also, Maine, you have another one. You'll be fine. ]

Formula, specifically a small variation of - [ Right. The other word would probably be more clear. ]

Local name for 'spell', formula is.

[Maine wants all the blankets, if only to deprive Duke of them. He's begrudgingly going to settle for what's left on the bed.]

[He growls lowly at that. Oh god. He's with a magic user.] Really.

Assuming not something common for you, then. [ Do you want him to light up the room to show that? Because he can - there's just no point for him, so he doesn't.

Going to migrate off the bed and maybe to the other side of the room. Because that seems like a good idea. ]

[Maine snorts. No, he didn't need magic. He had his fists. And usually power armor and some sweet-ass weapons, but there was sort of an issue with those at the moment.] No. Don't need it.