(no subject)

[no_sin_but]

"I thiiiiink," says Darren, much in good cheer, fishing in his drawer, "you can keep these."

They get tossed in Marlowe's direction.

"If they fit.  If not..."

His legs are longer than Marlowe's, this will be a problem.

"If not, just what you have on, I suppose."

Marlowe holds the jeans against him, and then laughs softly.

"I think I would trip and break my neck."

Heels are wonderful things, but they don't change basic body lengths.

Comments

[literallyrotten.livejournal.com]

Darren glances up over his shoulder, and frowns.


"Alright, that's probably true. Stick with yours, then, but the shirt won't do. Nor will the boots."

Here's something. A cotton shirt, an unassuming grey, with two buttons at the collar. Comfortable.

[no-sin-but.livejournal.com]

The shirt is catched easily enough and Marlowe pulls his own out from his leather pants.

"My boots?"

[literallyrotten.livejournal.com]

"The only people who wear boots that high any more are women, who are usually wearing very little else and are spinning around a poll as men attempt to stuff money into their undergarments."

Funny world.

"I have sandals that'll fit any size, and smaller boots that will probably do fine for you."

[no-sin-but.livejournal.com]

The look Darren gets is very, very odd.

"Boots, if you wouldn't mind."

[literallyrotten.livejournal.com]

"Go ahead with the shirt, I'll find them."

He keeps his eyes averted, heading straight for the close and said boots. Comfortable, zip up at the side just past the ankle boots that are well worn.

[no-sin-but.livejournal.com]

Marlowe half turns away, pulling off his Elizabethan shirt to replace it with the grey one. There are scars across his body, if Darren should glance back. Finding a chair, Marlowe sits and undoes the buttons on his boots, starting to pull the left one off first.

Although, before he starts he slips the knife out and places it on the flood.

[literallyrotten.livejournal.com]

Darren chances to glance back, and sees the knife first.

'Oh my God,' he thinks, because because, and then straightens holding the boots because it's only a little bit of a because. Christopher Marlowe is not going to murder him.

Thank God he's an actor, or he'd look more startled than he does.

[no-sin-but.livejournal.com]

There is another on his belt, but that's always been in plain sight. The sheathe of that is unclipped once he gets the left boot off, and also put on the floor.

Now, the other boot...

[literallyrotten.livejournal.com]

Darren goes into the closet, and pulls out a second coat, to go over the thin grey shirt. It's dark green, and seems to have too many buttons and looks like a cross between military and an aviator's jacket and hippieism.

Darren wears weird clothes, it should be noted. But it will serve to modernize Kit up, which is important.

[no-sin-but.livejournal.com]

His boots off, Darren's on and he's a clever man, when all is said and done, and quickly works out the zip.

That done, he stands to his feet and glances at the new coat. It might be weird for modern times, and it might be weird for Marlowe, but there is a large streak of flamboyance there that he had kept under lock and key for nine years.

Besides, it's a nice colour.

[literallyrotten.livejournal.com]

He will also be given an off-white cream scarf.

Because Darren LOVES SCARVES okay? And because it will work, with the open neck of the green jacket, that folds out to one side.

They do not, Darren decides, look entirely like they dressed out of the same wardrobe. They look like they might be friends, but not like Marlowe is playing dressup.

"That works."

[no-sin-but.livejournal.com]

"I am afraid I'm going to have to take your word for that."

He runs his hands down the jacket, oddly nervous without his daggers before he lifts his head up. Poet, playwright, but he was an actor from when he was a child and he can pretend that this is normal.

[literallyrotten.livejournal.com]

"You're not normal, exactly, but you're nothing drastic enough to raise eyebrows. People will assume you're just in theatre."

Which is true enough, isn't it?

[no-sin-but.livejournal.com]

"It's been a long time since people have assumed that." Still, his soft voice is amused.

Nothing to be done about the eyepatch, though, even if the hair and beard fit in with the threatre just as much as ever.

[literallyrotten.livejournal.com]

"If anyone asks you about your eye, the correct answer is either a stony glare or 'I'm on a waiting list,' and then an abrupt, mildly upset sounding topic change if it's someone you'd rather not put off."

Since people usually go the glass eye route rather than the patch.

[no-sin-but.livejournal.com]

Darren gets a raised eyebrow.

"Waiting list?"

[literallyrotten.livejournal.com]

"For an operation that I'm completely making up, but since I know nothing about it and I'm forty, I'm prepared to bet that any one we run into will be either too young to be sure or too old to be up to date on that sort of thing."

Obfuscation is clearly Darren's solution to everything.

"Shall we be off?"

[no-sin-but.livejournal.com]

That gets a laugh.

"Please."

[literallyrotten.livejournal.com]

"Thirty nine, actually," says Darren, clarifying as he opens the door.

"In point of fact. Either way, we'll start by stopping by the box office and getting tickets. Then we could probably go for dinner at Wong's. Shows don't start until eight thirty."

[no-sin-but.livejournal.com]

A crooked smile.

"You've managed to survive a year more then I. Congratulations." The outlined plan is noted and nodded at.

[literallyrotten.livejournal.com]

"Admittedly, doing such is far, far easier in my world. If only for the medicine."

He holds up a hand for Kit to inspect. Around his index finger is the faintest scar-line.

"We can sew things back on."

[no-sin-but.livejournal.com]

And Kit is Kit, so he reaches out and brushes that scar with his index finger.

"How very remarkable."

[literallyrotten.livejournal.com]

"Admittedly, I was only about four, so it took much less sewing."

You know the accident. Mother. Knife and cutting board. Nummy vegetables. Impatient sneaky toddler.

[no-sin-but.livejournal.com]

"Perils of youth."

[literallyrotten.livejournal.com]

"Damn straight. That was after I came down with what they thought was deadly meningitis, but before I broke my arm."

Darren was not an easy child.

Oh look, here's the door. Time to push through.

"Welcome to Canada. What shall I call you? Marlowe won't do, not in a theatre town."