Ralph Maynard

....

Dylan smirked a bit as he neared him again. When he was only a step or two away from him, he stopped. He brought his arms out to his sides, lifting them up. As he did, the shadows on the ground grew and began to lift from the ground and surround Ralph. “Might wanna reconsider.”

As the shadows grew so did the panic swelling in his chest. He turned every which way to try to get out of that ring of darkness, the mere thought of being trapped in it enough to break all his resolve. “Alrightalrightalright... just.. fucking stop.” 

Smolder? -Questioned, the squinting still making him feel like he was in trouble, a restless shift from one foot to the other.- 

He laughed to ease the tension. “Uh.. yeah?” He ended up squinting more, face scrunched up with confusion. “Are you okay? Usually you get all drooly when I look at you like that.”

His head lolled to the side, eyes rolling into a glare. “Oh yeah?” He kicked his foot out, intending to hit Jack but his aim was off—height difference also a factor—and he hit the leg of the coffee table instead. Pain shot up his foot, making him curse as he clutched it in his hands, big toe throbbing. “Ow! Owowow fffucking shit.” Loosing a pathetic groan, he rolled over onto his side into Jack.

He jumped to his feet at the mention of food, not one bit tired, “YES. Oh gods, I’m starving. What’s open right now? McDonald’s?” He’s already reaching for his wallet.

Oh his mind wasn’t ready for this much activity and he jumped at the guy’s sudden movement. He blinked a few times and started to get up, holding his hand out for help. “Think so... how late is it? Think the drive thru’s open all night.”

crossyoursevens, Jack when he’s drunk.. hell, Jack when he’s sober