Lexiconophilist

I wear wha'ever fuckin' fits. Don' really care 'bout wha' gender-specific part o' K-Mart it comes from. Tha' said, good as it looks on you--I don' reckon it smells any better than y'do righ' now, luv. Wouldn' keep it on too long if I were you. [ A pause. ] Or do--If y'reek good an' proper an' muss up y'hair a bit more we can maybe get away with lookin' homeless an' steal some o' the donated clothes from a shelter or somethin'. If not, it's back to Walmart an' their "all time low" pricin', an' their generous sizes, an'-- Jesus fuck, jus' thinkin' 'bout the people at Walmart makes me wan' to t'shoot meself in the head already. [ Some people liked to people-watch at places Walmart. They found it entertaining, fun, like gawking at zoo animals only much more cruel and inhumane. While not nice or humane, Nate's not someone who's ever taken interest in zoo's. Or people. Watching them only served to fuel his boredom and misanthropy. Plus everyone who worked at Walmart looked force fed happiness and to Nate that notion was truly terrifying. ] 

- Day your next birthday will be: November 26th - How old will you be: Twenty-four - Age you lost your virginity: Seventeen - Does age matter: Well y'don' wan' t'be caught with your knickers down in fron' o' a 13 year ol' girl, now d'you?

"No." My muse whispers as he straight up walks away. "But the replies." I whisper, pointing desperately at them. "No." He repeats, exiting the building.  

  We shoul' probably invest in some proper clothes f'you. Y'startin' to reek, y'know.  

'M not much for forgettin' things, mate. Jus' not carin' 'bout them. --An' hate's jus' 'bout the only emotion I can readily muster at the drop o' a hat, so you're in luck there aren' you? [ It's true too. There's a change in his demeanor, a little fluster of passion behind those dull owl eyes. Because it's so easy for him to hate. For him to want the worst for someone. It's that anger always roasting in the pit of his stomach that's climbing up and infecting his heart, pumping through his bloodstream until that fire spreads through his body. ] 'Andsome bloke like yeself woul' look jus' nifty with your face smashed in. [ Nate's an average guy by his own description, but he sure as fuck gets real insane real fast. ] Proper smashed. Lot's o' flesh against flesh, y'know? Fist meetin' face until both are bleedin' bad an' bones are smashed in. Maybe kicking it in with all me might--Grabbin' a brick an' smashin' it up 'till I can't recognize you anymore. Great way to relieve stress, I 'eard, an' wha' with livin' in a city an' all 'M a properly stressed out bloke.  

Lemme make this easy for you, luv. Since y'seem to be strugglin'. 'M not a black sheep, or a revolutionary, I am 'n anarchist but tha's mainly because I can' tolerate people in general, but especially can' tolerate them when they're in authority. 'M not worth anything,  don' do anythin' worth while, 'M not gonna change the worl' an' 'M not gonna let anythin' change mine. 'M not likeable, 'm not particularly great at anything, 'M pretty average in the sack, 'M fairly good lookin' but I shite all over tha' takin' 'orrid care o' meself. I don' particularly like meself, but it's okay because 'M inevitably gonna 'ate you more. An' worse yet I literally give lil' to no shites 'bout jus' about anythin' in the worl'. 'M a useless husk o' wasted potential tha' eats, sleeps, fucks, an' leaves an' is jus' full o' indifference.  Which is basically jus' sayin' that you've already lost 'ere, babe.  But good on you f'tryin'. 

Ooo~ Now we're gettin' nasty. Go ahead an' call me mum a slag while we're at it, that'll be all kinds o' fired up. Jus' remember luv--I judge because I 'ave super 'igh self esteem an' jus' love meself, an' so attackin' me ego is the quickest way to defeat me.  Especially how I was conceived 'cause a lotta me self worth is based on jus' how me parents fucked in order t'make me. 

Y'don' 'ave to look like anythin' t'be someone who reads y'dumb mook. Almos' everyone in the states an' UK who's made it past the 5th fuckin' grade knows 'ow to read, an' after tha' it's jus' a matter o' fuckin' doin' it. There's no particular shape, no particular size, no particular look. Readin' is jus' readin' an' people jus' fuckin' do it. If y'not interested in doin' it because you're a fuckin' brain dead idiot then you're in the wrong fuckin' store now aren' you? [ Nate's well known by frequent costumers for his sunny disposition and boyish charm. And yeah, being rather fit for someone so sour. Even if he's half starved with messy hair and sunken in eyes like he is right now. Someone who's entranced in his own world that certainly isn't here, and gets grumpy as hell when he has to pay attention to this boring one. Artist man, they're weird. ] 

I already tol' you 'M an artist--Tha' already disqualifies me from having real, manly balls by any stretch o' the imagination, so y'not takin' me for a man is perfectly understandable. --Point o' the matter is I don' care, an' if y'don' care then we're both equally not carin' so the conversation gets to end here. No foul, no harm, no friends. [ Nate turns to retrieve his coat and leave, pausing at the demand to walk the girl home. Coat bundled up in one hand, and the other on the door handle he finds it in himself to turn around and make his way back over to her again. Driven by suspicion. ]   Y'tellin' me tha' a tramp like you actually has a home near 'ere? You? [ There's a squint, harsh and suspicious as Nate traces his eyes over the girl again. This feels like a trap, and if Nate gets mugged by a girl who weighs all of 98 lbs he's gonna hate himself a bit--But at the same time she did get him on not judging a book by its cover earlier. ] ... Aye, fine--But y'keep up or get lost because 'M not laggin' behin' waitin' for your skinny arse to catch up. I don' you any chivalry jus' because you have a snatch.

Sometimes I forget how fuckin' funny y'sauve bastards tend t'be.