"O List, O List!" for What's my line?

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Challenge: What’s my line?

Title: “O list O list!"

The prompt: “When it rains it pours…”

Author: mrua7

Word count: Approximately 1,000

Illya Kuryakin was sitting in a chair he’d turned around, leaning his hands and his chin on the back of it while he stared out the hotel window.

The skies were dark grey, and it was pouring rain; sending anyone from the neatly appointed cobblestone streets below to the safety of the indoors. The street lamps barely cut through, shining weakly on the sidewalks; the historic  buildings, with their white-washed facades seemed dull, and weather-stained from the passage of time; strangely giving them more of a ghostly look from a bygone era.

Only the reflection from the neon lights let any color break though.

At times it wasn’t just raining as the skies would give over to torrential downpours, with the winds driving the torrents to near horizontal.

Periodically bits of flowers, an umbrella or other human detritus would go flying by.

“To use your vernacular, it is raining cats and dogs,” the Russian announced to his partner.

“Hey as long as it doesn’t reindeer,”Solo quipped as he

walked into the room carrying two cups of tea on a tray along with some pastries.

lllya chose to ignore him.

“Here chum, I was able to scrounge these from the kitchen.”

At that exact moment the lights flickered for the umtheenth time and finally succumbed, robbing the room of all it’s  color. Their surroundings took on drab, greying hues in the half-light.

“Oh great,” Illya groaned, taking his tea and an eclair from the tray.

“There’s no one in the kitchen and barely any of the staff made it in before the hurricane hit,” Napoleon took a bite from his jelly doughnut. ”I think we’re pretty much on our own.”

“It will not be the first time,” Illya took a sip of tea, continuing to look out the window. “I have a feeling the airport will not be in very good shape after the storm passes, so we may be stuck here for an indeterminate length of time.”

A strong gust of wind blew, and somewhere nearby there was the sound of breaking glass.

“Better get away from that window tovarisch.”

Illya looked up at his partner; his lips puckered with aplomb. “As usual your advice is an understatement Napoleon.” Illya rose from the chair, tucking it back in place beneath the small wooden table in their hotel room.

“If things get worse, I suggest we either get into the bathroom or perhaps the hallways as there are no windows there as well my friend.” Illya lowered himself to the bed, taking the final bite of his eclair.

Solo smiled, thinking he should try to add a bit more levity to the moment, given his partner could be such a downer at times.

“Well, we can always hope for a rainbow at the end of the storm, then we can get out of here with flying colors.”

“Are you done?” Illya groused.

“Not by a long shot...I’ve got a million of ‘em. After all, when it rains, it pours tovarisch.”

“That was exactly what I was afraid of Napoleon.” Kuryakin straightened himself, as he began to recite a bit of Shakespeare as his retort to his partners attempt at wit.

“I could a tale unfold whose lightest word

Would harrow up thy soul, freeze thy young blood,

Make thy two eyes like stars start from their spheres,

Thy knotted and combined locks to part,

And each particular hair to stand on end

Like quills upon the fretful porpentine.

But this eternal blazon must not be

To ears of flesh and blood.

List, list, O list!”

“Huh? Quoting from Hamlet at a time like this?”

“That quote is in reference to fear,” Illya rose from the bed as the windows rattled with the wind. He was now heading for the bathroom with a pillow and blanket in hand.

“Don’t tell me you’re afraid of a little hurricane tovarisch?”

“Not at all. It is your incessant puns that have elicited such an emotion within me. Now if you will excusez-moi, I have a rendezvous with a bathtub and some sleep.”

Kuryakin instantly winced at his own carelessness; hoping against hope he had not just given an open invitation for Napoleon to speak French. Illya slammed the door after himself with the lock clicking into place.

Napoleon tried the door knob anyway.

“Hey, où je suis censé aller_hey where am I supposed to go?” Solo could practically feel the Russian’s eyes rolling.

Though muffled response gave the American his answer.

“The hallway. Perhaps you can go amuse some of the hotel’s female guests with your awful puns.”

Illya waited but there was no reaction.

“Napoleon?” He called, opening the door and peeking out; catching a glimpse of his partner as he was dashing out the door, bed pillow and blanket in hand.

Illya, quite satisfied with himself, walked back to the bed and settled in for his nap; seemingly unconcerned about the storm...

Comments

[lindafishes8.livejournal.com]

Ugh! How could he sleep in a bathtub? Nicely done M. You sure know how to use your paintbrush! “Well, we can always hope for a rainbow at the end of the storm, then we can get out of here with flying colors.” What a great line.

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

The bathroom is generally one of the safest rooms to go to dying a hurricane...which you probably have never experienced. I grew up with them, and you do what you have to do to stay safe.

I decided I needed to make Napoleon's puns as visual as possible, since I'd already painted a dreary atmosphere outside and inside their hotel room, once the lights went out.

Thanks for the great comment and your compliments!

[lindafishes8.livejournal.com]

Yes, there are no hurricanes in Ohio but, plenty of tornadoes and the emergency plans are the same. Bathtub, away from windows or go to the lowest level of the structure you're in. I was fishing with a nephew and we had to take cover in a ditch as the storm blew in very quickly. We encountered downed trees we had to drive around on the way home. That was more than a little scary.

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Yikes! I forgot about tornados! They happen here but are rare and not as intense.

[jantojones.livejournal.com]

Having slept in a fair few bathtubs in my time, I also would choose the comfy bed in the hurricane. Poor Napoleon, getting more or less kicked out because of a few puns.

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Well he really didn't get 'kicked put' per se, but Illya maneuvered him into making the decision to leave. (knowing that once Napoleon's puns started, they could go on all day. lol)

Yep, been there did that...sleeping in a bathtub.

Thanks so much for commenting cuz!

[avirra.livejournal.com]

*pats Illya* You might have to pay the charge for the dart, but it might be worth it when Napoleon gets on a roll of very bad puns again.

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Hmmm, that's a thought, but at least Illya maneuvered Napoleon into going off to to do something pleasant...

Thanks for commenting!