Dozing [Open]

[misstates.livejournal.com]

Characters: America and anyone.
Setting: Floor Four and Kitchen.
Format: Either.
Summary: Even heroes have to sleep!!!
Warnings: -


★ 1 - FLOOR FOUR

She hasn't slept in her room for a couple of nights - the sofas on the lounge level are infinitely more comfortable and it's not nearly as stuffy as that ugly little room. She's been getting more and more tired, mistakenly chalking it down to the fact she hasn't had soda for a few days.

Either way she's lying on a sofa, head lolling off the edge of it, possibly snoring just a little bit.


★ 2 - KITCHEN

Her shift in the kitchen was supposed to start half an hour ago. But she stayed up all night making plans to get out of this place playing her gameboy and so when she sits down and rests her head on her crossed arms she can't help but doze off...

Comments

[creme-master.livejournal.com]

...I would certainly hope. The fairer sex usually IS prettier.

In your case your poor attitude is already overshadowing your endowments <3

[misstates.livejournal.com]

What's wrong with my attitude?

[creme-master.livejournal.com]

You're incredibly impolite, cherie. [Uh. Duh.]

[misstates.livejournal.com]

[Her cheeks flush.]

You're the one who woke me up and stared at my chest!

[creme-master.livejournal.com]

Well, pardon. I'm used to America not having breasts.

A bit of pudge, of course... but it never did reach his pectorals.

[misstates.livejournal.com]

He's not fat! [Of course she's never met him but the reaction is instinctual.]

[creme-master.livejournal.com]

I didn't say he was.

Just well-rounded. [snicker; bites lip]

[misstates.livejournal.com]

I'm not stupid. I know what you meant. [Pout.]

[creme-master.livejournal.com]

I suppose it's the one thing he was always receptive to as well. Interesting

Oh come now. Don't pout. [taps her on the chin lightly]

[misstates.livejournal.com]

You can't make me stop. [This place seems to have made her more childish than ever. Pout.]

[creme-master.livejournal.com]

Non? [Kisses the top of her head before obnoxiously ruffling her hair; smirk] Am I so bad?

[misstates.livejournal.com]

Yes, you are 'orrible. [Have a ridiculously horrid, over the top impersonation of a French accent. She swats his hand away softly.]

[creme-master.livejournal.com]

Oh dear, was that an attempt at my accent? [sits beside her with a sigh, arms folded at the table top; sidelong glance] You really are America. Two of them. [wry] Terrifying...

[misstates.livejournal.com]

Yeah. [She rolls her eyes, glancing over France properly.]

I dunno, sounds pretty kick-ass to me.

[creme-master.livejournal.com]

Such brazen words from the narcoleptic! [charming smile]

[misstates.livejournal.com]

I'm not a - [Yawn] - narcoleptic!!

[creme-master.livejournal.com]

[No, you're just a lazy American through and through. No more games; you'll go blind!] ... [pleasant smile] Are you so sure?

[misstates.livejournal.com]

Yeah! You've known me for like five minutes, so stop smiling at me like that! [She waves a hand in his face.]

[creme-master.livejournal.com]

[Okay, flat looks all around for you, you ingrate.]

I forgot that pleasantries are oft forgotten with your kind. I just get accused of being the rude one.

[taps his fingers in thought before standing once more; tone turning a bit condescending] Now that i know who is behind my food - and I doubt you're any different from him - I will just be the judge of saying I shall cook for myself!

[misstates.livejournal.com]

I don't even cook anything. Just gotta put their food in this huge oven and try not to die in the process. [She stands too.]

Are you saying I can't cook? [Lineface.]

[creme-master.livejournal.com]

You just admitted that you are in mortal peril against an oven of all things. How am I supposed to have confidence that you can actually cook?

[Plus, Amerique, while better than the man who raised him still had dreadful expectations of good and bad in the kitchen. He doubted she was different.]

[misstates.livejournal.com]

Hey! It's not a normal oven, trust me.

[creme-master.livejournal.com]

...Let me guess. It's possessed. [flattest of flat looks]

[misstates.livejournal.com]

No. It's a very big oven, which you can get stuck inside. [She speaks as if she's addressing a toddler.]

[creme-master.livejournal.com]

And you were intelligent enough to investigate it?

Did you mistake it as a cave? Did you wish to go spelunking, my dear?

[Because she would... as if she can speak to him like that]