(five did everything to get back to his family to save them and avoid the apocalypse along the way. he didn't intend to lose any siblings, including ben, and he sure didn't intend for klaus to get stranded in a timeline alone for three years. despite the unfortunate blunders along the way, against the odds, here they are.
they've done what seemed to be damn right impossible. five had been sure he was going to strangle one of his family members and he hadn't even been entirely certain on which of them it would be.
in the end, despite another nearly horrific end to them (a memory that helps five forgive every infuriatingly stupid and godforsaken thing his siblings did along the way), they'd survived and their drinks are as good a victory treat as any. for a victory drink, klaus goes through it quickly. five doesn't bother squashing a smile at the cocktail bubbles and the laughing, at klaus up and absurd enough to already be considered drunk. enjoyable enough, five’s sipping on his drink around his amusement.) Not a chance on Homer, not in this family. Vonnegut? Dostoyevki can certainly be included.
(five trusts klaus with that; certain other siblings would have ruined the mood to interrogate him on his remark about not killing. klaus, however, has the intended reaction. pop lyrics. maybe not exactly how he intended, but close enough.) Do you think the 90s is offended with how you’re using its lyrics? (he asks with amusement threaded through his voice.
five couldn’t begin to know where the old record player is, has barely been back and sure hasn’t used that time with the record player. their other siblings, though, do seem to know. allison is the one to pause, still laughing, as she gets up to retrieve it. five takes the time to finish off his drink and slinks behind the bar to fix himself and klaus both another.)
( klaus hadn't been remotely kidding when he had said surviving a family of seven was a feat of strength, muttered to himself to bolster his confidence amidst suctioned FBI corpses and a world threatening to fall apart by its seams.
so naturally, he wouldn't have blamed five for strangling one of them. he would equally be unsurprised (and likely understanding) if that person was him, even though his first bet would have been on diego.
but, all's well that ends well, it would seem, and impossible turned out to simply be improbable.
he isn't nearly as drunk as he can be - and most likely will be by the end of the night. it's the start of a buzz, that head-fog warmth after a long, long day, alcohol taking quick root from the lack of food, and the adrenaline before. he's animated regardless, strangely pleased that five hasn't asked to be left alone yet. ) Vonnegut's good, I guess - ( a shrug somewhere in the contemplation. ) Depends on what you're going for. Cheeky satire or gloomy realism. ( a literature summary of Vonnegut and Dostoyevski, brought by yours truly. )
( the thing is, a part of klaus really does know better than to ask. ) Oh, oh man, if you think that's offending the 90s, do not read any of my - ah - ( he makes a vague hand gesture through the air, a wiggle of long fingers. ) - "prophet teachings". If they made it this far. You're gonna be so disappointed.
( he says so as he saunters after allison, a quick two-step as she fetches the music player. the room is soon filled with ain't no mountain high enough that spurs the others into a singalong. soon, they all settle back into chatter, into foot tapping and laughing.
looking as pleased as a cat that got into the cream, klaus slides back over to the bar, and watches five fix them another drink. his sibling's cocktail finesse is far more pragmatic than his own, and he watches fondly on. they grow up so fast ) A new poison, maestro, or the same?
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they've done what seemed to be damn right impossible. five had been sure he was going to strangle one of his family members and he hadn't even been entirely certain on which of them it would be.
in the end, despite another nearly horrific end to them (a memory that helps five forgive every infuriatingly stupid and godforsaken thing his siblings did along the way), they'd survived and their drinks are as good a victory treat as any. for a victory drink, klaus goes through it quickly. five doesn't bother squashing a smile at the cocktail bubbles and the laughing, at klaus up and absurd enough to already be considered drunk. enjoyable enough, five’s sipping on his drink around his amusement.) Not a chance on Homer, not in this family. Vonnegut? Dostoyevki can certainly be included.
(five trusts klaus with that; certain other siblings would have ruined the mood to interrogate him on his remark about not killing. klaus, however, has the intended reaction. pop lyrics. maybe not exactly how he intended, but close enough.) Do you think the 90s is offended with how you’re using its lyrics? (he asks with amusement threaded through his voice.
five couldn’t begin to know where the old record player is, has barely been back and sure hasn’t used that time with the record player. their other siblings, though, do seem to know. allison is the one to pause, still laughing, as she gets up to retrieve it. five takes the time to finish off his drink and slinks behind the bar to fix himself and klaus both another.)
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so naturally, he wouldn't have blamed five for strangling one of them. he would equally be unsurprised (and likely understanding) if that person was him, even though his first bet would have been on diego.
but, all's well that ends well, it would seem, and impossible turned out to simply be improbable.
he isn't nearly as drunk as he can be - and most likely will be by the end of the night. it's the start of a buzz, that head-fog warmth after a long, long day, alcohol taking quick root from the lack of food, and the adrenaline before. he's animated regardless, strangely pleased that five hasn't asked to be left alone yet. ) Vonnegut's good, I guess - ( a shrug somewhere in the contemplation. ) Depends on what you're going for. Cheeky satire or gloomy realism. ( a literature summary of Vonnegut and Dostoyevski, brought by yours truly. )
( the thing is, a part of klaus really does know better than to ask. ) Oh, oh man, if you think that's offending the 90s, do not read any of my - ah - ( he makes a vague hand gesture through the air, a wiggle of long fingers. ) - "prophet teachings". If they made it this far. You're gonna be so disappointed.
( he says so as he saunters after allison, a quick two-step as she fetches the music player. the room is soon filled with ain't no mountain high enough that spurs the others into a singalong. soon, they all settle back into chatter, into foot tapping and laughing.
looking as pleased as a cat that got into the cream, klaus slides back over to the bar, and watches five fix them another drink. his sibling's cocktail finesse is far more pragmatic than his own, and he watches fondly on.
they grow up so fast) A new poison, maestro, or the same?