fuck marry kill

[money]

FUCK, MARRY, KILL

welcome to GAME NIGHT at DEAD MEN TELL NO TALES. the game on the docket? FUCK, MARRY, KILL. the rules are simple: roll the game picker wheel three times or just pick three as you'd like, dropping the names in your header comment — icly we'll say they picked they names out of a hat. people respond, comment around, get into fist fights, kiss a little? thread hop and react as you see fit!
(meme threads can be considered canon!)

Comments

making some assumptions here, lmk if not ok <3

[snaggleteeth]

[because i could smell the grief and heartache off the nape of your neck last week, and joking about marrying me seems like a bad way to cope.

because—] Well, if you're already multi-tasking. Help me pick. Three names?

[he takes the jug without asking. exchanges it for phone. there is an expectant quality to how he folds his arm around koby's waist and stares right back. whoever-his-name-is.]

perfection~

[kobes]

[it's still there, it hasn't gone away. it clings to koby like a cloak, like a cape, echoed in his eyes, trailing from his fingertips. he moves through it like walking with slit achilles tendons, like breathing with a hole in your lungs.

and he's also had a couple drinks, in between his duties, so he huffs another sigh and leans back against qimir (the stranger, qimir, whoever), absently wiggling to get comfortable straddling his thigh. he pokes at the phone for a moment, then holds it up:] Elias, Faith, Gwen. Go.

[snaggleteeth]

[in two minutes, when he posts the thing, he'll kind of look like he'd rather take a machete horizontally through his temples. but for the moment, hidden behind koby's head, smelling his pink hair like a perfectly normal person, the stranger looks happy.

'happy enough.'

he accepts his phone. makes no move with his other arm, currently operating as a seatbelt.] Thanks. Need to get back to work?

[kobes]

[koby hesitates, looks around -- sees about seven water glasses that need to be refilled, something that itches at something deep in his chest. he swallows, tips his chin up, looks at qimir upside-down.]

You don't want to hear my answers? [it's an attempt to buy more time, more moments held, warmed, secure. connection in his head, in the way he looks up over the tops of his glasses.] Then I should -- yes, probably, work, but.

I have answers, too.

[snaggleteeth]

[the stranger's knuckles curl against the base of koby's head, as if to relieve some of the pressure from the inevitable crick in his neck. shifts his palm under, the next moment, giving koby an excuse to turn on his perch, if he'd rather.]

I want to hear your answers.

[dehydration builds character. the stranger sets the water jug down on top of the table.]

[kobes]

[koby turns obligingly, nudges up his glasses with a knuckle, considers.]

Marry Gwen, since I already said I would. Sleep with Elias again. And I don't want to kill anyone, but Faith could stop me if I tried. [lifting his chin:] There. Your turn.

[snaggleteeth]

[oh. time to give a less dickish version of his future performance. presumably, koby tends to fuck people he actually likes.]

Marry Gwen, with the high recommendations. Sleep with— [honestly, it's like watching a wolf learn tricks. 'fuck' is a split second from tripping over his canines,] —Faith. Sorry about Elias. He could stop me.

[he lifts his chin too, mirroring exactly. only a little bit making fun.] Do you like this game?

[kobes]

[the censorship makes koby huff out a laugh, wrinkling his nose to keep his glasses from sliding down again – they need tightening.]

You can say “fuck”, I don’t mind. Just because I don’t usually doesn’t mean it bothers me. [and he prefers sappier, more romantic terms, though qimir choosing elias as “kill” also doesn’t seem to bother him.]

Ah, I see. Gwen’s lovely, and Faith’s very nice. And i like Elias, but – he’s been nice to me. [that’s the standard koby’s set, yes.

the question makes him consider for a moment, pursing his lips in thought. finally:] It’s fun. But mean. So – mostly?

[snaggleteeth]

[happiness, as discussed, is often overrated in the stranger's perspective. but what else could motivate the way he leans forward now, puts the tip of his nose to the bridge of koby's glasses. nudges them up. leans back again, leaving a puff of condensation on the lenses.]

Don't have to follow the rules. Three people, three words. Your choice of either.

[kobes]

[there’s pink, sticky liquor still on koby’s tongue (shots with the bar staff, shots with the table, able to walk a straight line regardless of what he’s tossed back, but softer, sweeter, mellowed out into something hazy-warm and languid) so he laughs instead of twitching backwards, cheeks pinking as he reaches up to settle his glasses more securely.]

Ummmmm okay. Sleep with, throw overboard, duel – oh, drown, duel, um. Despoil? Does that work? [trying to alliterate things, but then, refocusing:] You, me, Giles the butler.

[snaggleteeth]

Despoil Giles, swim, duel you. Drown Giles and masturbate if surviving the water isn't an option. You'd better put up a fight. Could do something fun after.

[decisive. neggy. this game will not catch on, but he's familiar with unpopular choices.]

Your turn.