Michael (
gotashortfuse) wrote in
poly_chromatic2012-06-10 07:15 pm
Video
[Somehow like magic the device has turned on and Michael can be seen sitting there on the couch staring at Kira and Ikki. Ikki who happens to be wearing a cute pink apron.]
But I’m hungry.
[The apron doesn’t stay on long, Ikki’s hands immediately flying up to the perfect little bow at the base of his neck to rip the damn thing off already.]
Hell no! Cook your own damn food. We didn’t raise some good-for-nothing son who can’t even cook dinner for his parents one frickin’ night of the week!!
[Mostly unimpressed, Kira watches them argue. Nothing is burning yet, so this is hardly worth getting excited over.]
Not his fault you didn’t teach him how to cook properly.
[Michael pouts.] And ya said I wasn’t allowed in the kitchen anymore after the last time.
. . . Oh yeah. I did say that. [He lifts a hand to his chin as he thinks about it, and all the fires that Mika’s presence in the kitchen alone seemed to cause. Shit just kept catching on fire if this kid looked at it long enough.]
Whatever! Whatever! Fine. I’ll make you some goddamn stir-fry or something. [Pulling off the tie at the waist of his apron, he tosses it over towards Kira’s face.] And you’re helping! Put that shit on.
[He catches the apron without thinking, then raises an eyebrow.] Kinky. [So not happeningoutside the bedroom. Apron gets left behind, but he does get up.] After you.
[UGH! HE HEARD THAT COMMENT!] Ewwwwwwww. Don’t do that shit with mom where I can hear it, dad!
God, I’m going to throw you both into the fucking sea. [Grumble, grumble!]
[ooc: Blue is Kira, Pink is Ikki, and Black is Michael!]
But I’m hungry.
[The apron doesn’t stay on long, Ikki’s hands immediately flying up to the perfect little bow at the base of his neck to rip the damn thing off already.]
Hell no! Cook your own damn food. We didn’t raise some good-for-nothing son who can’t even cook dinner for his parents one frickin’ night of the week!!
[Mostly unimpressed, Kira watches them argue. Nothing is burning yet, so this is hardly worth getting excited over.]
Not his fault you didn’t teach him how to cook properly.
[Michael pouts.] And ya said I wasn’t allowed in the kitchen anymore after the last time.
. . . Oh yeah. I did say that. [He lifts a hand to his chin as he thinks about it, and all the fires that Mika’s presence in the kitchen alone seemed to cause. Shit just kept catching on fire if this kid looked at it long enough.]
Whatever! Whatever! Fine. I’ll make you some goddamn stir-fry or something. [Pulling off the tie at the waist of his apron, he tosses it over towards Kira’s face.] And you’re helping! Put that shit on.
[He catches the apron without thinking, then raises an eyebrow.] Kinky. [So not happening
[UGH! HE HEARD THAT COMMENT!] Ewwwwwwww. Don’t do that shit with mom where I can hear it, dad!
God, I’m going to throw you both into the fucking sea. [Grumble, grumble!]
[ooc: Blue is Kira, Pink is Ikki, and Black is Michael!]

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Private; filtered to Kira.
Private; filtered to Ikki.
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You know, I wouldn't let ANY of you in my kitchen.
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[There must be some reasoning behind that union.]
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I'm a fucking master chef over here!
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assume? Because I go to bed shortly and the week will kill any chance of tags
ya assume. ♥
Thanks!
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What the everloving fuck?
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Somehow.
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... there's gotta be a way to use this that won't burn through my ears five times over.
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