Monopoly Ho


brian_icon.gif samara_icon.gif

Scene Title Monopoly Ho
Synopsis As usual everyone wants to be the Scottish Terrier
Date November 23, 2010

Pollepel Island

"I hope you appreciate this."

The flashlight swings to the right as Brian's steps continue along carefully. The gradual swaying the flashlight comes to a stop along with Brian's steps. The beam of light then swiftly flashes then way then that. The sound of four footsteps had been falling upon the dark castle hallway. Had Brian made a new friend? Is Samara finally tangible???


Brian needed help carrying stuff so he brought two of himself. Carrying a sizeable load covered up by a blanket, one of the copies goes to lay the load gingerly against the wall.

"I feel like we're in Hogwarts."

Looking this way then that, Brian gives a firm nod. "Doesn't look like many people are coming down here this time of night. It's cold but.." He had told her he had something for her. A surprise. And when he pulls off the blanket he reveals what his surprise is. A… mirror. A medium size mirror that would take in all of Brian's form if he was sitting down. And it does, when he does sit. But behind the mirror, are a few boxes… Games! Monopoly, battleship, and checkers. Laying the boxes in front of the mirror, Brian goes to set up the flashlight so it would shine on their play area and the mirror.

Reaching up, the sitting Brian touches the standing Brian. The second immediately vanishes, his clothes droppping to the ground. Dressed heavily, Brian smiles at where Samara should be and pats the ground next to him. "What game do you want to play?" With the mirror big enough so that they could both see each other in the reflection while playing the game.

"I brought this mirror and these boxes with the kids. I figured I could try to make you feel normal. And what's more normal than playing battleship in Hogwarts hallway at midnight?" Brian smiles gently.

ReflectionGirl had followed the pair of Brians down the hall, quite fascinated by this would-be surprise; she's always liked surprises, although there have been so few in the last couple of years— that's the joy of walking through walls without being spotted. When the mirror is unveiled, her lips curl into an 'oooooo,' which, while her awe may be unhearable, it's certainly seeable in her tight jaw and expressive eyes. Her hands clap lightly together in an excited succession of three quick claps complete with the smallest girly jump in the air at the games. So many choices!

She slides onto the floor next to him and expectantly points to monopoly. She raises two fingers to her head— much like her shoulder-devil impression— and pretends to pant like a dog. She wants the puppy piece; it's her favourite. Or was that a different version of monopoly?

Smiling at the joy she portrays when the games are revealed he smirks a little bit. Then she is claiming the dog piece. "Hell no, I'm the doggie. He reminds me of the scottish dog from lady and the tramp. And I get to be him young lady." The last sentence is said with a distinct Scottish accent. Bringing monopoly down from the stack, he unloads the box and sets out the board and begins to arrange the bank. "You can be the stupid thimble. Or the top hat." He gives her a raspberry and makes a pbbbt noise.

"And you can be banker. JayKay. You don't have hands. I have to be banker." Pulling the money in front of him he starts to pass out their respective monies. "If I don't give you enough there's nothing you can do. Haaaa."

There's a distinct frown when Samara can't choose her game piece, of course it's all overdramatic and she's not actually that choked about not being the dog. Wrinkling her nose, she shakes her head and holds out her hands like she's holding a steering wheel; she wants to play the car. Forget the stupid hat. Who wants to be a hat anyways? Except maybe the mad hatter. But then didn't he just want to wear hats?

Her lips curl into a broad grin as she leans over the board game, her eyes narrowing suspiciously. Her hands extend across the board— the message is simple: the board is hers, Brian. You'll just have to deal with it! With a toothy grin she sits up again and lifts her chin into the air; she intends to win. Even if she is invisible.

"Did I say you could be the racecar? What if I get tired of the dog and want to be the racecar?! You get to be the thimble!" Brian insists, pointing with a glare to the thimble. "Thiiimble~" He decrees solemnly. She must thimble. After a moment he gives a huff and concedes. "Fine you can be the dog. But I get to speak with a scottish accent at any point and without judgement. Got it?" Grabbing the dog piece he puts it on the other side of him, taking the race car for himself. Placing it slightly closer to himself. "I'm gonna vroom the shit out of you." Brian threatens, leaning back slightly as she leans over the board.

"You're not going to win this game, Casper. You can start callin' me Donald F. Trump. And I will call you… What's a homeless cartoon character?" He creases his brows, trying to think of a good example of what she's going to be at the end of this game.

The money all passed out, Brian picks up the dice. Offering the dice over to her, he immediately drops them. "Oh bother. You dropped the dice. Looks like you need hands for this game." He grins before grabbing the dice again, he rolls it. "This is for you… I'll go next."

The thimble is regarded with open disdain as Brian insists the ghost’s piece is the lameness that is the thimble. Defiantly she shakes her head although she beams when he concedes. Again, she claps excitedly, decidedly happier at getting to play the dog; it’s already better than whenever she played with her siblings back when she was young— Adisa always got to choose first. Stupid younger sisters. Who are annoying.

She signs carefully after pointing to herself, ‘O-P-R-A-H’. Yes, that’s who she is. She points a finger in her mouth and makes a gagging notion at the Donald. She holds up a single finger and pulls her hair over her head like a pseudo-Donald comb-over. You can’t deny she has a gift with the theatrical.

There’s an emphatic nod at the dice accompanied with a broad grin as she’s combing her hair with her fingers again, returning it to its usual quaff.

Grinning, he shakes his head. "Oprah was never homeless. Or a cartoon." He points out, a little disappointed. "I was thinking like the opposite of Scrooge McDuck." Watching the dice, Brian frowns as Samara gets a big number. He supposes it doesn't really matter, but moves her forward regardless. Allowing her to take her turn, he takes his own. Not getting quite as far as Samara's stupid dog piece.

"Lily had another vision." Brian murmurs quietly. "And.. I also got to talk a little bit with Rue. You should probably visit her, by the way. She was looking for you." The replicator looks over his money. "I'm gonna buy the railroads and be a tycoon." He injects randomly. "They both told me about how you protected Rue the day of the bomb." He murmurs quietly, looking over to where she should be. "That was really brave of you Sami. You're a good person." He murmurs quietly. "And if you really did die.. I think it would be cruel of God to make you be here any longer. You don't deserve it."

Hands are raised to Samara's cheeks as they flush a pale pink. If anyone could actually feel her face it would be hot with blush. She suffers sheer embarrassment at the compliments, having never considered herself remotely brave. Her chin drops to her chest as she stares at the game board, allowing her hair to conceal any of those particularly reddened features. However, she feels the need to explain herself and so her chin lifts, and her eyes try to meet his gaze, not that he'll be able to find hers. 'I-S T-H-E-R-E A G-O-D? C-A-N T-H-E-R-E B-E W-I-T-H T-H-E W-O-R-L-D A-S I-T I-S?' She shrugs, the words are what they are. Somehow all of this feels like a bizarre cruel joke.

'I W-O-U-L-D D-O I-T A-G-A-I-N. E-V-E-N I-F I D-I-E-D.' There's just some things a girl does for her best friend. 'N-O T-I-M-E T-O T-H-I-N-K. J-U-S-T R-E-A-C-T.' And her reaction was to merely collect her best friend in her arms and prevent harm from befalling her.

Large hazel eyes study the tattoo curiously. Sami even leans in to examine it before she realizes she's staring, bringing further colour to her already-pink cheeks. 'I W-O-N-D-E-R I-F F-A-I-T-H C-A-N L-A-S-T I-N A W-O-R-L-D L-I-K-E T-H-I-S. W-H-Y W-O-U-L-D-N-T H-E J-U-S-T W-I-P-E U-S O-U-T S-O W-E W-O-U-L-D S-T-O-P H-U-R-T-I-N-G E-A-C-H O-T-H-E-R?'

'I W-A-S S-I-X-T-E-E-N. I D-I-D-N-T U-N-D-E-R-S-T-A-N-D C-O-N-S-E-Q-U-E-N-C-E-S.' There's certainly some truth to that. The idea that she wouldn't come out of it really wasn't a thought at the time, and truth be known her love for her BFF is beyond that for her own sister. Defiantly, she shakes her head and points to him, mouthing the words rather than signing this time, as if saying them to herself will give them more power and emphasis, 'YOU ARE GOOD.' She wraps her arms in front of her like she's carrying a baby, proof of Brian's assumed goodness is the way he's cared for Kasha and the other children. 'NOT EVIL.'

Watching for a long time, Brian tilts his head a little bit. It takes a while but eventually all the letters are out. He smiles with a little admiration. "You're so good at that now." He mentions again, yet this time a little quietly. To what she has to say about faith he ffalls silent, picking some place on the floor to look at for a long moment. Finally he looks back up to the mirror to catch her next statements.

He smirks a little bit. "He started that, not me. Haven't you ever wondered about why I have guns? I kill people with guns." He admits blatantly. Holding up a little finger gun he makes a "Pew pew." He then holsters the imaginary weapon. "I killed this Chinese guy. He was like a leader of triads or something. And some of his friends. He was the first guy I killed." He points to his forehead with a tap-tap. "See I'm not a good guy. And.. While you were signing I put you on one of my properties and put a little red house on it so you owe me a hundred dollars." He smiles brightly. Evil.

Practice, practice, practice. It took a few weeks, but with that repetition, she's learned. Also her spelling has gotten better just from having to spell things out all of the time. 'B-U-T U K-E-E-P I-T G-O-I-N-G.' If Brian could hear her words, he would know that they're said in earnest, even in the presence of the finger gun that could pew pew her to death.

He does, however, earn a glare when he puts the house on the property. Followed by an all out frown and a quick sweeping motion like she intends to destroy the board. Of course, the fact that she can't is half the fun.

She pulls out a finger gun all her own and makes the accompanying sound effect as she, effectively, 'shoots' him with it. Gratuitous violence.

"And I'm getting helped by an escaped convict. Who can control people." Eric is a good guy but… He's semi creepy sometimes. "The kids need more than two bad guys with hearts of gold to raise them. So.." He watches her try to destroy the board, grinning lightly he lets out a light laugh. Reaching out he goes to flip the board for real. The pieces going everywhere. "Next time I'm the dog piece!" He roars.

When he gets shot, he reaches up and makes an explodey sound, pretending that gore flies out of his head. And splattering out onto where she would be. He then falls back and 'dies'. As he lays there in death, he stares up at the ceiling for a long moment. "So that's it. If I bring you back to life. And that be on purpose or accident, you have to help me, my sister, and my crazy ex-con with the kids. Like.. Lighthouse staff. If the Lighthouse ever exists again." He gives an affirmative nod despite being dead.

Lifting up one pinky, "Deal?"

A large toothy and overly satisfied grin plays on Sami's lips as the board is, essentially, destroyed. Yes, that is precisely what she wanted. When Brian 'dies,' Sami peeks over the now messy board, craning her neck to inspect her handiwork. Deciding the craning isn't entirely worth it, she springs to her feet effortlessly, like gravity has no real effect on her. Standing over him, she's still grinning, as reflected in the mirror. She blows on her gun as if to clear the smoke from the air before 'holstering' it on her belt.

The question earns a nod. She'd already wondered what kind of life would there be for someone who was, for all intents and purposes, resurrected from the dead. Legally Samara Beth Dunham died over four years ago. Is there life after death?

She holds out her own pinky and tries to hook it with Brian's as best she can, mouthing two words very clearly, 'Pinky swear.'

Glancing in the mirror, Brian smiles deadly as her pinky hooks around his. Watching the mirror intently to make sure the 'contact' stays, he lifts his shoulders to bring his lips to kiss his own hand. Then glancing into the mirror to make sure she does the same, he then goes to sit up fully. Looking down at the ruined game he frowns lightly.

"I don't suppose you're going to help me clean this up, are you?" He asks with a little frown. Pushing on his knees, he goes to stand fully. With now only his legs in the mirror he leans forward slightly. "I don't know where your cheek is right now. So pretend I'm kissing it." Leaning forward he goes to peck where he guesses her cheek maybe might be. He's probably wrong, but kissing air is weird regardless.

"Now clean up my monopoly, ho."

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