Finally out of that stupid library, Valentine and Helena made their way across the city. Helena was rather definitely paying attention to where they were going, which left Valentine free to babble on incessantly about his delusions of grandeur.
He likes his delusions, thank you.
"So, we find this thing quickly, save the world, they give us the contents of the treasure, we can be out of the city by tomorrow!" In time for Carrots and Spleenology with the two clearly not insane people. It was a ridiculous course, but was quite possibly the easiest grade he'd be getting this term and he rather didn't want to screw it up. "I knew you needed a manager - stick with me kiddo, you'll have a tower of your own, almost as nice as mine."
It really was a very nice tower. Even if he hadn't seen it in months.
"That's just for starters! Forget juggling, we'll do what rich people do. Bathe in--" What did rich people bathe in? He wasn't rich, but he had won that bathtub full of fish that one time. That would do. "Fish." She laughed at him, which bolstered his efforts to make an arse of himself. If nothing else, it passed the time. "Eat our own weight in chocolate buttons! Learn to play the concertina!"
"I definitely don't need a manager," she replied with another laugh. "I'm not actually sure I need you."
Valentine was entirely absorbed in his moment of crazy and was not at all dissuaded.
"Do you think I'd look good in a crown? I've always thought I was more of a hat person."
Once again, he was talking to himself. Helena was off in space, staring at a house as they walked by it.
"You know, I knew there was something really familiar about the houses, here. They all look like things I drew."
Because that totally didn't remind Valentine of any artists back in Fandom that he knew. Not in the least. And if it did, then he was doing a very good job denying it to himself.
"... So, I'll be rich, important, famous... um." Yeah, right, fine. Time to get back on track. Even if babbling about riches was a much less immediately-terrifying topic than saving the world and all. "What are we looking for again? And how do we know when we've found it?"
"Sssh. I wonder..." Helena looked through the window. "That's odd. I should be in there, shouldn't I? If I'm asleep."
"You're asleep?" Valentine stared at her, somewhat put off by that one. He wasn't just some messed up dream, thank you much. He was a very important man. He had a tower. And he was rather insulted by the insinuation.
"Well, yes. I think we've rather definitely established that, Valentine." She was rolling her eyes at him, wasn't she? Valentine was pretty certain that she was rolling her eyes at him. He continued to be insulted. "This whole thing is just a dream. But look at it."
Valentine humored her. He looked into the window into... someone's most spectacular, dusty, abandoned, dirty old junk room. He shook his head at her.
"I can't see anything. It's just a window."
"It's my bedroom!"
"It's not, it's somebody's junk room." Because it was missing many of the key ingredients of a bedroom. Such as a bed. Unless Helena was the sort to sleep on dirty wooden chests or busted old bowls or crispy dried flowers. She was starting to strike him as the sort who was possibly strange enough to do such things. The Jerries would take an instant liking to her, he figured.
"You can't see my bedroom in there? Look, my bed? My wardrobe? My moon mask? My cuddly sea anenome?"
... Yeah. No. Junk room.
Valentine continued to stare at her as though perhaps she had gone mad.
She squinted at the rubbish inside the room for a moment, then perked up again. "Well, dream or not, we're definitely heading the right way."
And off she went. And Valentine, still convinced that she was rather insane, followed after her.
[OOC: If you're curious what the princess was up to while Helena peered through that window,
sarcasm_guy was kind enough to write that up! Yay plotty stuff!]
The princess stalked up to the counter of the convenience store, frustrated. This world was certainly more interesting, and full of more opportunities, than her own, but it was so ... frustrating! She was "Helena" now. Her "mother" was dying -- she smirked a bit at the irony of that -- her "father" was barely around, and she was living with her "nan", who was both deaf and completely senile. All in all, the perfect situation to be able to do whatever she wanted -- except she was also poor. How ANNOYING.
And of COURSE the items she had grabbed would cost more money than she had. FAR more.
"And get me one of those, too," she demanded of the clerk, pointing at something on his side of the counter, but at the other end of the store. As he went to get it, she scooped her things off the counter and ran out of the store with them.
(OOC: NFB! NFI! MirrorMask Spoilers! The Valentine and Helena stuff has been taken from the scriptbook with movie dialog and scenery tweaks here and there, so I don't get credit for anything but the subtext. Gaiman and McKean continue to be awesome. I continue to be a geek. Sokka-mun continues to rock as he continues to be a pretty pretty princess. Give him pretty bows, as he deserves them muchly!)
He likes his delusions, thank you.
"So, we find this thing quickly, save the world, they give us the contents of the treasure, we can be out of the city by tomorrow!" In time for Carrots and Spleenology with the two clearly not insane people. It was a ridiculous course, but was quite possibly the easiest grade he'd be getting this term and he rather didn't want to screw it up. "I knew you needed a manager - stick with me kiddo, you'll have a tower of your own, almost as nice as mine."
It really was a very nice tower. Even if he hadn't seen it in months.
"That's just for starters! Forget juggling, we'll do what rich people do. Bathe in--" What did rich people bathe in? He wasn't rich, but he had won that bathtub full of fish that one time. That would do. "Fish." She laughed at him, which bolstered his efforts to make an arse of himself. If nothing else, it passed the time. "Eat our own weight in chocolate buttons! Learn to play the concertina!"
"I definitely don't need a manager," she replied with another laugh. "I'm not actually sure I need you."
Valentine was entirely absorbed in his moment of crazy and was not at all dissuaded.
"Do you think I'd look good in a crown? I've always thought I was more of a hat person."
Once again, he was talking to himself. Helena was off in space, staring at a house as they walked by it.
"You know, I knew there was something really familiar about the houses, here. They all look like things I drew."
Because that totally didn't remind Valentine of any artists back in Fandom that he knew. Not in the least. And if it did, then he was doing a very good job denying it to himself.
"... So, I'll be rich, important, famous... um." Yeah, right, fine. Time to get back on track. Even if babbling about riches was a much less immediately-terrifying topic than saving the world and all. "What are we looking for again? And how do we know when we've found it?"
"Sssh. I wonder..." Helena looked through the window. "That's odd. I should be in there, shouldn't I? If I'm asleep."
"You're asleep?" Valentine stared at her, somewhat put off by that one. He wasn't just some messed up dream, thank you much. He was a very important man. He had a tower. And he was rather insulted by the insinuation.
"Well, yes. I think we've rather definitely established that, Valentine." She was rolling her eyes at him, wasn't she? Valentine was pretty certain that she was rolling her eyes at him. He continued to be insulted. "This whole thing is just a dream. But look at it."
Valentine humored her. He looked into the window into... someone's most spectacular, dusty, abandoned, dirty old junk room. He shook his head at her.
"I can't see anything. It's just a window."
"It's my bedroom!"
"It's not, it's somebody's junk room." Because it was missing many of the key ingredients of a bedroom. Such as a bed. Unless Helena was the sort to sleep on dirty wooden chests or busted old bowls or crispy dried flowers. She was starting to strike him as the sort who was possibly strange enough to do such things. The Jerries would take an instant liking to her, he figured.
"You can't see my bedroom in there? Look, my bed? My wardrobe? My moon mask? My cuddly sea anenome?"
... Yeah. No. Junk room.
Valentine continued to stare at her as though perhaps she had gone mad.
She squinted at the rubbish inside the room for a moment, then perked up again. "Well, dream or not, we're definitely heading the right way."
And off she went. And Valentine, still convinced that she was rather insane, followed after her.
[OOC: If you're curious what the princess was up to while Helena peered through that window,
The princess stalked up to the counter of the convenience store, frustrated. This world was certainly more interesting, and full of more opportunities, than her own, but it was so ... frustrating! She was "Helena" now. Her "mother" was dying -- she smirked a bit at the irony of that -- her "father" was barely around, and she was living with her "nan", who was both deaf and completely senile. All in all, the perfect situation to be able to do whatever she wanted -- except she was also poor. How ANNOYING.
And of COURSE the items she had grabbed would cost more money than she had. FAR more.
"And get me one of those, too," she demanded of the clerk, pointing at something on his side of the counter, but at the other end of the store. As he went to get it, she scooped her things off the counter and ran out of the store with them.
(OOC: NFB! NFI! MirrorMask Spoilers! The Valentine and Helena stuff has been taken from the scriptbook with movie dialog and scenery tweaks here and there, so I don't get credit for anything but the subtext. Gaiman and McKean continue to be awesome. I continue to be a geek. Sokka-mun continues to rock as he continues to be a pretty pretty princess. Give him pretty bows, as he deserves them muchly!)