Pairing/Charecter(s): Ancient!John, Atlantis
Warnings/Spoliers: part of the Ancient!John 'verse, taking place after pt1 of "Idolon," ie, during "Misbegotton"
Disclaimer: Title 17 of the US Code, § 107, aka the Fair Use Doctrine.
Summary: Atlantis would like the HGTV channel
Notes: This would have been the start of pt2 of "Idolon," but.... it isn't.
An Ancient!John drabble
"Family love is messy, clinging, and of an annoying and repetitive pattern, like bad wallpaper."
"I dunno, carrisima," Iohannes muses, leaning with his arms against the railing on the uppermost floor of the atrium that makes up the base of the Central Spire. "How green are we talking about here?"
/Not very? It's more verdigris than true green./
This means exactly nothing to Iohannes, but he asks anyway, "And you wanna paint the atrium this - what was it called - nautical colour?"
/You don't like it?/
"I'm sure it'd be perfectly fine, 'Lantis," he assures her, lacking any opinion whatsoever.
/But not great,/ she pouts, dimming the lights directly over Iohannes' head dejectedly.
"I didn't say that."
/ You implied it./
Groaning, "It's your atrium, carrisima. You can paint it whatever colour your heart desires."
/But we want you to like it,/ she frets, wringing her nonexistent hands.
"'Lantis," Iohannes says solemnly, "you could be neon orange with purple pastel polka dots and I'd still love you."
The lights overhead return to normal brightness, albeit with great reluctance. /You're just saying that./
"Y'know that's not true."
/Then gives us an honest answer!/ Atlantis demands, all but stomping her feet like an angry child. /Nautical for the Central Atrium, yes or no?/
"Honestly? I dunno why you even bother asking me. Y'know I'm no good at these sorts of things. But if you really want my opinion, I say why not just go for another shade of blue? Blue always looks good on you, especially now that we're on the surface. Something that matches the ocean, maybe."
There is a lengthy, heavy pause. /You're absolutely no help,/ she huffs. /You should stick to playing with your matrices, pastor. We will ask our gener. He knows what we're talking about./
"You do that, carrisima," Iohannes replies flippantly, hoping to all the Descendants' false gods that she'd do just that. As almost an afterthought, he adds, "And stop calling Lorne that, it's just creepy." It's strange enough that Rory considers them her parents. She doesn't need to feed into the linter's delusions by calling Lorne their son-in-law.
Atlantis, being Atlantis, ignores his complaint and shifts her consciousness to better bother the newer pastor.
The nearest water ballast to burbles teasingly at him. Iohannes resists the urge to make primitive rude gestures at it. Instead, he goes back to staring out over the atrium and trying to imagine it painted in some shade of verdigris until he hears footsteps coming up the nearby stairs.