geniuswithasmartphone: (So Done With This)
Well, there was no more denying it. Their most recent ill-advised Plan E attempt had left Hardison with a nasty cold. Possibly pneumonia. Possibly consumption. He wasn't sure. It all got mixed together in a haze of coughing and sneezing and general misery. He alternated between sweating and shivering, along with that weird light-headed feeling that you got with a high fever.

Or maybe with extra-strength cold meds. One of those.

Look, the important thing was that he was dying here. Probably literally. Dying. In his prime.

He was huddled on the couch, wrapping under blankets, with mountains of Squeeze Orange Soda bottles next to him. That was practically orange juice, right? A smaller mountain (in height, if not in volume) of used tissues were next to that, because Hardison hadn't thought to bring over a garbage can before he'd sunk onto the couch and now the idea of getting up to fetch it made him whimper. His head weighed roughly fifty pounds and was throbbing in time to his heartbeat--sitting up was an impossibility, never mind actually standing. And walking? HA!

He's known the outdoors were a horrible idea. It always ended with his life in danger.

Dammit, Eliot!
geniuswithasmartphone: (Yeah Im Cute)
To say that Hardison hadn't been looking forward to the camping trip was the biggest understatement since declaring that AOL's network was a little 'shoddy.' But Eliot had insisted and Hardison and Parker loved Eliot wanted Eliot to be happy figured it was just easier to go along with it than to keep arguing. Even though it was a fact that Hardison, at least, would have a much better time in the apartment, ignoring nature and the elements as man had intended ever since he crawled down from the damn trees and into a nice, warm, waterproof cave.

But you could take the man out of civilization (dammit), but you couldn't take the civilization out of the man. Or, rather, the man (especially if he was the man) could bring the civilization along with him. At least when he's got the internet, SkyMall, and overnight shipping on his side.

And so once they'd gotten to their camping spot he'd made Eliot set up the tent, and when that was done, he disappeared inside to make it amazing!

Now this was camping.

Everyone was as excited about the tent as Hardison was. EVERYONE. )

[Preplayed with [ profile] whoisalicewhite and [ profile] vdistinctive due to holiday weekend travel availability.]
geniuswithasmartphone: (Playing With Phone)
Once again, Hardison was in trouble. His back against a wall, surrounded by enemies intent on taking him down, for a few seconds Hardison let himself wonder if this was really the way he was going to be taken down.

Aww, hell naw. He was not about to lose to a buncha chumps, even if he was drastically outnumbered.

"Look, Eliot, watch this!" And several seconds of furious button-mashing later, he'd managed to take out all of his opponents, using impressive combos, bright flares of magic, and a few badass items in his inventory. "Bet you was nervous, huh. Not like me. I was cool as a cucumber the whole time." Ignore the way he was sagging against the back of the couch, Eliot, he'd been totally fine.

This was the way Hardison had imagined it going once he moved to the island: no creepy zombie-horror fog outside, the three of them sharing space again, together even while they did their own things, happy and content.

"Oooh, I'm gettin' hungry. Eliot, you seen my bag of gummy frogs? Or maybe we should order more pizza after I finish up this level."

Well, he was happy and content anyway.

[For the crew & expecting one more, but open if anyone else should have a reason to drop by!]
geniuswithasmartphone: (Chin on Fist Side-Eye)
Eliot was looking pretty terrible. Despite Hardison's insistence that he wasn't going to feed Eliot again after the never-to-be-discussed Pork Rind Incident (c'mon man! There were just some things you didn't do to pork rinds! Or your friends! Even friends that tased you and tied you to a chair!), that insistence didn't mean much when your best friend looked like he was gonna keel over at any minute.

"Yo," he said, standing a safe distance back. "Eliot. You feelin' okay, man? You thirsty? I ain't gonna feed you--" such lies. If Eliot said he was hungry, Hardison was a soft enough touch that he'd try to feed him anyway. "--but I can get you something you drink?"

But that drink would possibly be orange soda, because soft touch or not, Hardison was also spiteful.

"You know, dude, this could all be over if you just told us what the heck was going on."

It was possible that Hardison and Parker didn't really have an endgame here, beyond keeping him tied up for...indefinitely?



geniuswithasmartphone: (Default)

August 2017



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