|
Post by Desmond Walsh on Dec 1, 2014 4:56:10 GMT
It wasn’t very often that you found the male out and about playing on his laptop. No, usually he reserved that kind of thing for his apartment, but his fucking internet had been shut off just the day before. He was going to pay it. He was literally just a few days behind on the bill, and god knows those assholes could have cut him a little slack, but of fucking course they wouldn’t. Stupid heartless bastards. Didn’t they realize he needed the internet? And not even in the funny addicted to it kind of way. He needed it to make money, and hacking in public wasn’t exactly in his best interest. But he just needed to wait. He was meeting with someone in a few days, and he could get it turned back on then. How he was going to eat on top of paying the cancellation fee, the fee for having it turned back on, and the bill was beyond him, though.
So, it goes without saying that the male was less than happy in this moment. And the fact that he was getting his ass handed to him in this game wasn’t helping matters at all. He could barely focus on it, really, with real life adult issues weighing down on him like the fucktards they were. It was times like these when he was certain he never should have left Ireland, but it’s not like he could go back now anyway. His stomach clenched slightly, and in his distraction he was killed yet again. “Oh, bloody hell!” He exclaimed loud enough for the entire café to hear, slamming his mouse down on the table. It squeaked in protest and his stomach writhed with guilt for a moment. Perfect. Fuck-king perfect.
|
|
|
Post by Luke Indigo on Jan 12, 2015 22:41:42 GMT
Luke was having a great day. He’d been able to get the machines for his project working that morning, and his diagnostics and tests were giving more and more conclusive data. Though arguably not the most interesting of science projects, his would be his first published if he could help it, and Luke relished it. On top of that, his regular morning classes had gone well, even those he wasn’t particularly interested in, and he’d got a high graded paper back. If the weather would just comply with the rest of his day, Luke would have been set. Oh well, it didn’t matter too much at the end of the day anyways. He was a creature of the indoors more often than not as it was.
Rather than go back to his dorm room after he’d gotten everything he needed done, Luke made the trek over to one of his favorite internet cafés. Buying up a small horde of pastries and two large drinks, he’d use the speedy internet to start up and play one of his favorite MMOs. So far, it was going about as grand as the rest of his day. Target after target collapsed under him and his specialty clearly not hacked gun, and in the midst of a raid, he managed to take down four in rapid fire. Yes—this thought was cut by the exclamation and slam that echoed in the café thereafter. To his credit, Luke didn’t jump too high, and to those who hadn’t seen, he could easily have played it off as going rigid. One thing was certain, however, his attention was taken from the game.
Who the hell was making such a ruckus? Sharp heterochromatic eyes darted across the café to fixate on the most probable noise maker. Staring at the back of the blue haired man, Luke’s eyes narrowed. “Hey! Be quiet!” he snapped, the euphoria of the day starting to diminish.
|
|
|
Post by Desmond Walsh on Jan 15, 2015 3:20:26 GMT
He wouldn’t have even noticed the other man if he hadn’t spoken. Desmond was rather distracted with the fact that he might have just broken his familiar, since his mouse didn’t seem to be working anymore no matter how much he wiggled it around. The brief fear that he had killed it entered his mind, but soon enough he simply felt the thing come apart in his hand, clicking back into an actual mouse form. Obviously he was dead as fuck in the game without a mouse. The mouse pad on his laptop would never serve him well enough to play a game. He couldn’t be mad at his mouse, though. He was the one who had addled its circuitry or whatever by slamming it.
He could be mad at the person who was having the gall to speak to him when his day was going so badly, though. He could be, and he would be. Desmond was quite small for a man, but that didn’t stop him from rising to any challenge that was presented him. He’d lost plenty of fights before, but he was rather pleased when his eyes landed on the source of the noise That redhead didn’t look much bigger than him. “Oi!” He called across the café, his blue gaze flashing dangerously even as his mouse popped its little head up over his shoulder. “Ya wanna come over here and say that to mah face, firecrotch?!” He challenged, baring his teeth slightly. His already thick accent was only made that much thicker by his anger.
Normally Desmond wouldn’t have risen to a fight like that, no, normally he was actually a fairly calm person. Normally he wasn’t having such a shitty and stressful day, though.
-- Luke Indigo
|
|
|
Post by Luke Indigo on Jan 26, 2015 23:47:44 GMT
Luke’s good day was going rapidly downhill, and he was making no effort to stop it. Though he enjoyed the softer emotions of calm and the light emotions of fun, his default was irritation, and with what was returned, the fire of malice shot up in him. “What’d you say?” he snapped back shifting around to meet the stare of those blue eyes squarely with his own. For a second, there was a slight inclination to back down, to fall quiet, to pretend to go back to his game even. However, being called firecrotch wasn’t appealing at all. He didn’t need to be from the Isles to assume it was a slur, and for this reason, Luke kept the irritating scowl on his face.
There was a minor hesitation before Luke shoved himself down from the seat and started walking as intimidatingly as his short skinny form would allow. “I think I told you to shut up! I’m playing a game here!” he spoke almost an octave below his normal speech as if to increase the intimidation factor. What he hoped to achieve in all this, Luke didn’t know. He just didn’t want to back down. Even if it didn’t lead to a good outcome.
|
|
|
Post by Desmond Walsh on Jan 27, 2015 2:56:00 GMT
There was the briefest moment where the bluette held his breath, waiting on a response from the other male. It was quite possible that he might be ignored. Few people actually defended their words or actions, he’d learned – even against someone like him. Most people just let it go and moved on with their lives. However, as that snap was given and the redhead turned in his seat, Desmond knew that wouldn’t be the case. Good. He wasn’t in the mood for that kind of person today. At least this kid was willing to back himself up. He held that gaze as it met his own, narrowing his eyes slightly as a scowl appeared on his features.
As the redhead stood up, Desmond did the same. He stepped out from the table, bristling slightly as the distance between them was closed by the other. He had to raise his eyes slightly to regard Firecrotch, but it really wasn’t as bad as it normally was. He could be as tall as that Ethan dude, after all. “Why don’t ya make me?” He challenged, stepping forward himself. His hands were drawn back and then pushed forward as he made to shove the other male squarely in his chest. If he managed to shove him, it would barely be hard enough to even knock him back a pace – no it was really just something to get him worked up. Desmond needed to blow off some steam, after all.
-- Luke Indigo
|
|
|
Post by Luke Indigo on Mar 8, 2015 17:19:27 GMT
Something uncomfortable crawled into Luke’s stomach when the blue haired young man had stood in turn with him and started towards him. While he could come off as fierce, Luke wasn’t exactly a fighter. What he was thinking now wasn’t logical. Some part of him knew that, yet emotions, the human part of himself, were getting the better of him. “Maybe I will!” he snapped back roughly when the challenge was posed. An arm and hand had risen threateningly but hadn’t been executed in the seconds thereafter. Had he had a moment of doubt perhaps? Not even Luke himself really knew.
In those seconds, however, Luke felt hands on him as the shove occurred before he could bring down his arm. Sure enough, he was forced back a step, and for a few seconds, a blue eye blinked in surprise. Gritting his teeth, Luke growled before taking yet another step back only to take to quick steps forwards. Arms and hands raised themselves together, and Luke made to shove the blue haired young man back with more force. With a little momentum behind him, it was considerably more than the other young man’s shove had been. However, at most it was enough to send the other young man stepping back a few more paces or so. “Take it back!” he snarled childishly after.
|
|
|
Post by Desmond Walsh on Apr 5, 2015 1:05:26 GMT
Despite the bristling, despite the way that his lip was curled, and despite the anger that he could feel burning in his chest, for the moment Desmond was perfectly in control of his actions and thoughts. It typically took a little more to send him entirely over the edge, and quite unfortunately that little more would come in the form of the other male shoving him. It was only fair, really. He’d shoved Firecrotch, so Firecrotch was shoving him back. However, that shove had significantly more force. Even as the bluette attempted to take a step back to lessen the blow, those hands were already colliding with his chest. Several forceful steps backward were taken, and an angry yell was given. The redhead’s words wouldn’t even reach him as the world spun slightly. He could feel his anger bubbling over, and before he could even think about what he was doing, he was already stepping forward again.
His fist balled, and was drawn back. Had he been able to swing it forward, he would have put his body-weight (as little as it might have been) behind it and aimed straight for Firecrotch’s nose, however, a yell off to his left caused him to stop short. His head turned, his eyes challenging whoever had stood in the way of what he wanted to do. A woman who at least seemed to be in charge stood with her arms crossed, and she was demanding that they leave. Ears burned red, but more with latent anger than embarrassment. His gaze returned to Firecrotch. “This is your fault.” He snarled as he turned to gather up his laptop.
-- Luke Indigo
|
|