Seated on a comfortable sofa near the fire, Lionel takes in the space. How does Pocket know so much about American sitcoms? She's gotten the feel just right, as far as he can tell. Everything is cheated out toward the fourth wall. Picture frames with half-decent photoshopped couples. A room made to look like it belongs to a middle-class family but if you think about it, there's so way the average American could afford it. Huh. His eyes move from details to detail. Fascinating.
"HEY!" a disembodied voice from the darkness yells. "DO SOMETHING!"
"M-me?" Lionel asks, touching his chest and looking around.
Holland half stumbles into the living room, holding a glass of red wine and dressed like the perfect 50s housewife, half apron and all. Despite seeming like a rather natural fit for this look, she appears a little disgruntled, partially because of the void voice and partially because sitcoms, especially old sitcoms, are entirely unfamiliar to her. Still, she moves through the space with an almost determined gait, going to sit next to Lionel quickly before trying to push her glass of wine into his hands.
Lionel is immediately happy for Holland's company and scoots over to make room for her. He takes the glass and half a moment later, realizes its contents. Wine. He's not drinking tonight. "Oh, I uh-- I'm not--" he begins to explain to Holland, but then realizes the audience might be... disappointed. His cheeks burn, feeling their gaze. Feeling pressure to drink it. Or at the very least, entertain. "Err--" he stalls, then, "Whoops!" He drops the glass, spilling it across the rug.
An Oooo comes from the abyss. Pleased. Placated. At least for the time being.
"Do you, uh, think you'll decorate your home like this someday?" It's a genuine question, but he worries he sounds wooden.
In true Holland form, the now lightly panicked girl tries to save the glass of wine with absolutely no luck. Her eyes remain, for a moment, hyper-focused on the slow spread of red along the carpet, her expression almost longing. The studio audience 'kindly' graces them with a few laughs to go along with the Oooo that cause Holland to visibly flinch. She quickly leans over to murmur to Lionel, 'Look out, they're very rude.' After this quiet admission she sits up a little straighter and smoothes her apron.
"I can just get more later," she says to herself, mostly, before she focuses on Lionel with a slightly stiff smile. "...this? Oh, no, it's so antiquated, and not in the regal way, you know? Is... this the sort of home you'd like to live in?"
"No," he shakes his head and looks around the room. Then even more confident, "No I don't think so."
Lionel has never once had to make an aesthetic decision in his life. In his own home, here at school, and the thought of someday having to design or decorate a home makes him wish he could have a big sip of the wine he spilled on the floor. "I'd, uh, probably leave that decision up to my wife," he shrugs, "whatever she wants."
That elicits a soft Awww from some members of the audience. He winces.
"I'm sure your wife will know best," Holland replies, confident if only because she can't imagine someone being less equipped than Lionel, despite her affection for him.
Though she's doing her best to focus on the other senior, the way she fidgets suggests she's still fighting the urge to clean up the wine spill - luckily, the question posed to her serves as a wonderful distraction.
"Oh! It'll be big and beautiful and full of light and we'll always have fresh cut flowers everywhere, and we'll have a study and a beautiful ballroom with a piano but also a piano room, and I'll have a big garden outside with a gazebo for entertaining and..." Seeming to realize she's gotten caught up in herself, Holland smooths her already perfectly smooth apron again and adds, quickly, "And also whatever my husband wants."
This statement is quickly followed by some audience laughs, which have Holland scowling and muttering under her breath, "These people really need to mind their own business."
"Oh, that sounds really nice," Lionel nods, picturing her amazing home and feeling rather boring himself. "A piano room. I'll have to remember that." Lionel's mind is organized in a file system, not unlike a computer. He mentally creates a new folder called "Future Home" inside a folder called "Things to Remember" and adds the words, "Piano room. Holland Graves."
He returns to the moment and notices Holland's fidgeting (much later than he should have) and pieces together her preoccupation with the spill. "Oh, here, let me just..." Lionel tries to cast a spell to clean up the stain, but he's holding Pocket's TV remote wand, so instead of cleaning up the mess, he finds himself in a worse one; he's unknowingly entered the number for a sports station and now finds himself in a singlet. Much to the delight of the audience.
Though still a little embarrassed by letting herself ramble on, Lionel's apparent approval of her dream house helps Holland relax a little. She smiles softly as he mentions the piano room. It feels... validating, even if, technically, she doesn't need that. Not even technically! She doesn't need that at all!
She's a little distracted with this train of thought when Lionel offers to fix the spill, so she doesn't even think to warn him about how it could go wrong. And, oh dear, it's gone wrong. Holland 'umms' softly, her lips remaining parted in surprise. This is not something she ever expected to see her friend in, and his pathetic little 'help' has her wanting to fix the situation as soon as possible. Also, she doesn't want to see him in a singlet. She quickly takes off her apron and tosses it over him.
"Shame on you for being so rude!" she calls out into the darkness, which just causes more laughter.
Edited (I just remembered I never replied to this aidngaidsng so here you go) 2020-06-01 03:56 (UTC)
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peckenpaugh2020-05-15 10:03 am
Lionel & OPEN
"HEY!" a disembodied voice from the darkness yells. "DO SOMETHING!"
"M-me?" Lionel asks, touching his chest and looking around.
Lionel & Holland
"Drink this and maybe they won't yell."
Lionel & Holland
An Oooo comes from the abyss. Pleased. Placated. At least for the time being.
"Do you, uh, think you'll decorate your home like this someday?" It's a genuine question, but he worries he sounds wooden.
Lionel & Holland
"I can just get more later," she says to herself, mostly, before she focuses on Lionel with a slightly stiff smile. "...this? Oh, no, it's so antiquated, and not in the regal way, you know? Is... this the sort of home you'd like to live in?"
Lionel & Holland
Lionel has never once had to make an aesthetic decision in his life. In his own home, here at school, and the thought of someday having to design or decorate a home makes him wish he could have a big sip of the wine he spilled on the floor. "I'd, uh, probably leave that decision up to my wife," he shrugs, "whatever she wants."
That elicits a soft Awww from some members of the audience. He winces.
"Tell me about your dream home."
Lionel & Holland
Though she's doing her best to focus on the other senior, the way she fidgets suggests she's still fighting the urge to clean up the wine spill - luckily, the question posed to her serves as a wonderful distraction.
"Oh! It'll be big and beautiful and full of light and we'll always have fresh cut flowers everywhere, and we'll have a study and a beautiful ballroom with a piano but also a piano room, and I'll have a big garden outside with a gazebo for entertaining and..." Seeming to realize she's gotten caught up in herself, Holland smooths her already perfectly smooth apron again and adds, quickly, "And also whatever my husband wants."
This statement is quickly followed by some audience laughs, which have Holland scowling and muttering under her breath, "These people really need to mind their own business."
Lionel & Holland
He returns to the moment and notices Holland's fidgeting (much later than he should have) and pieces together her preoccupation with the spill. "Oh, here, let me just..." Lionel tries to cast a spell to clean up the stain, but he's holding Pocket's TV remote wand, so instead of cleaning up the mess, he finds himself in a worse one; he's unknowingly entered the number for a sports station and now finds himself in a singlet. Much to the delight of the audience.
"Help," he whispers.
Lionel & Holland
She's a little distracted with this train of thought when Lionel offers to fix the spill, so she doesn't even think to warn him about how it could go wrong. And, oh dear, it's gone wrong. Holland 'umms' softly, her lips remaining parted in surprise. This is not something she ever expected to see her friend in, and his pathetic little 'help' has her wanting to fix the situation as soon as possible. Also, she doesn't want to see him in a singlet. She quickly takes off her apron and tosses it over him.
"Shame on you for being so rude!" she calls out into the darkness, which just causes more laughter.