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@theominousguest
âTestingâŚ.
Ah, it works.
Greetings, to anyone who sees this. I have finally acquired a device to properly ask and answer questions.
I am usually not up for answeringâŚbut I am learning to open up more. I will try my best to give satisfactory feedback.
Signing out.â
Ooc undercut; (It is a bit short, but Iâd really appreciate if you read it!)
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what dere type would they be?
|| To be honest?
"Kiridere" is a term for a character who usually has a dignified, crisp, composed, and serious hardworking side in public, but suddenly becomes deredere and shows a more cute and overly affectionate side when they are alone with their love interest.
They are serious and enthusiastic about their work and studies so they walk around with a strict composed and dignified posture and a sharp expression on their face which gives them an unapproachable atmosphere. However, in contrast to the way they behave while working they will act really cutely and emotionally when they are alone with their love interest, wanting to receive lots of affection from them and not worrying about keeping up dignified appearances.
This fits Guest a lot. While heâs not that much against PDA, he âhas a reputation to upholdâ. He only acts completely stoic and professional around serious businesses, like FEMA. Otherwise he is mostly laidback (though he is still very passionate about his work).
â hi. đĽşâ
-The chef!! 𼊠( @the-chefs-cleaver )
(EnjoyâŚđđđ)
đł
âUhmâŚhello! So nice to meet you, whoever you are. Who are you, exactly?â
âOh yeah sorry! I work in the schoolâs cafeteria. (Ooc; Iâm guessing your guy is in the school?) The names David!.. some people just call me the chef or Mr. D!.. and uhm.. you are?â
The chef would put out his hand to shake, it being covered by a glove that he then took off with a small âsorryâ. The man would have a large, rough-textured hand.
|| he doesnât, exactly, but he lingers around sometimes!
⢠Guest gladly took the manâs hand, shaking it, his touch lasting for a moment too long.
âMy name isâŚunnecessary. People just call me Guest anyway.â
⢠He crossed his arms, giving the chef an odd look. Most wouldâve took it as nervousnessâŚor something.
âSo, Mr. D, Iâm curious about this school; is it still active? Is there still students here?â
âAh! Wellll hello Guest!.. mind if I just call you Mr. GT?..â
David would look down at the others hand as it lingered, chuckling a bit, it being in a non malicious way.
âWell.. it IS active though⌠not really.. filled with students anymore⌠from what I know itâs basically a safe space in a way.. though there are still some visitors around the area..â
âGT is fineâŚI don't really mind what you call me."
⢠At the man's words, Guest pulls out a notebook and pencil from the bag he was carrying. He was immediately interested.
âVisitors, you say? Do they normally reside here? Would you say this place is a visitor nest?â
âI donât knowâ I-I hope not.. I just know that they hang around outside⌠sometimes I gotta scare em off because they try to come inside..â
He would look away, looking upset. He didnât like the idea of dead people coming back as.. zombies?, monsters..? Who knows.. it all made him shiver, dead people should stay dead.
âI was looking for some place where I could feel safe..- I.. uhm⌠anyway uhm⌠what about you?.. whatâs it like where you stay???âŚâďżź
ââŚbig enough to scare them off.. good to know.â
⢠Guest had no shame, not even trying to be subtle as he wrote about the manâs words. He lifted his head at the question.
âOh, where I live? Itâs quite cozy, actually. Not my house, but at least the people are friendly. Do you not feel comfortable here?â
âA- excuse me???⌠actually never mind. Anyway, that sounds nice.. itâs always nice to have a place to stay.. I used to live in an apartment complex.. with my kids.. uhm.â
He would look away with a grim(?) expression, picking at his hand before clearing his throat and putting his other glove back on.
â.. I mean the people are nice enough⌠havenât really met anyone bad since I came⌠I stay in the spare classrooms. Mattress on the floor, spare closet with my stuff and thatâs mostly it.. there has been a problem with me running out of supplies or my utensil being missingâŚâ
âI donât know whether to say that sounds good, or to pity you.â
⢠At the manâs expression, Guest offers a look of worry.
âYour kids. Turned into visitors, I presume? My condolences..
Have you ever interviewed the people living here, to see if they know where your stuff has gone?â
âNo no.. uhm.. it was FEMA.. rest their souls..â
The chef would take the handkerchief from his uniforms pocket, dapping his eyes before putting it back. He didnât understand, they were just kids who were scared, not visitors seeking to trick and kill. He wished he didnât freeze up. He wished he took the bullets instead of them.
âU-uhm.. I mean, I donât like to accuse people⌠but utensils donât just disappear by themselves⌠uhm. But anyway.. with utensils I do have I was planning to make soup I guess.. if you would like some..?âďżź
ââŚFEMA took your children too? ThatâsâŚthatâs.. damn.â
⢠Guest averts his eyes, looking downward at that. He wasnât surprised that they did, because, of course they would! They were bastards. All of them.
âSure, why not? I donât have anything else to do at the moment. Uh⌠can I be aware of the ingredients? Safety reasons.â
Artie, you absolute wimp, why do you keep letting that odd woman bother you?
-@theominousguest
I ainât a wimp. Youâre a wimp. Ha! <oooh, they really got him there..> Anâ umm.. <they pause, considering.> how âbout you take your nose outta my business anâ shove it up your ass instead?
âŚseriously?
⢠At their sudden outburst, or short tantrum, Guest laughs. Mocking them.
One, that wasnât clever; two, that isnât possible; and three, youâre kinda proving my point. What are you so butthurt about?
Very seriously, yeah. That was very clever, you can do anything you set your mind to, anâ how am I provinâ your point?? Callinâ you nosy- âcause you are- does not make me a wimp.
Iâm not butthurt! Iâll make your- never mind. Hhaha⌠<they giggle to themself awkwardly, reddening slightly at their own miscalculation of words.>
Hah. You better be careful, I might enjoy it.
Also, Iâm calling you a wimp because you went straight to insults instead of answering my question. My point is that youâre cowering from on odd freak-show of a woman and doing nothing at all to stop her.
So, youâre still a wimp.
Good, maybe thatâs what- thatâs what I want! SssoâŚ.. uh there! <theyâre losing the thread. This is no longer a threat.>
Well, I only did that âcause you called me a wimp! Anâ if you think itâs so easy tâ make her go away Iâd absolutely love tâ see you try. I have tried it jusâ didnât work, dipshit. She doesnât listen.
Anâ Iâm not a goddamn wimp.
You know she has a husband now? You know you can communicate with the husband to get her to stop? Or talk about it with her like a man?
But whatever, if youâre too scared to do it, Iâll handle it myself. Mâkay? Twinkie.
I feel youâre not hearing me. Can you hear me?? <they snap their fingers at him for emphasis.>
I have talked tâ her. âLike a manâ. Iâve told her tâ fuck off, anâ that I hate her anâ why anâ⌠whatever.. she jusâ doesnât listen!! Her husbandâs probably as bad as her if heâs willingly married her.
I ainât scared anâ I ainât a goddamn âtwinkâ either. I bet I could f- I could take you out if I wanted!
<theyâre bluffing. They might be able to- maybe- but even if they were capable they certainly wonât try anything. They run from fights more often than they actually ever hurt anyone.>
Hey, you watch yourself, Orion is great. Heâs just fucked up in the head. She probably manipulated him into it somehow..
⢠Guest frowns at their threat, crossing his arms and giving them a defiant look.
âŚhe would not win in a fight against them. But they donât need to know that.
And Iâm sure I can take you just fine.
I donât even know who Orion is. Whatever. HA! No you canât. I could beat your ass even with one leg. Or you could drop it, sweetheart.
<thereâs a venomous sweetness to their nickname of endearment.>
Pfft, as if I would. That would make me a coward, and I am nothing like you.
⢠He reciprocated their tone, leaning forward to poke their chest with a smug grin.
Wimp.
I ainât a goddamn coward!
<they hiss, grabbing his jaw with one hand on an impulse. Itâs mildly threatening, though it likely isnât intended to be. Itâs not really intended to be anything at all. Theyâd done it without a thought.>
Shut the hell up, you nosy bitch!
⢠His eyes had widened in shock at first, shocked by the audacityâ he hadnât expected them to actually act outâ but then he just burst out laughing. Just straight up hooting and hollering in their face.
Oh man- oh, Artie, the man you are.
⢠He tugged at their wrist, attempting to get their hand off.
Truly, you are something else. So defensive over the smallest of things. It almost makes me want to insult you again.
<they let him go with a grimace. Not because he tugged at their wrist, no, more because they fingers are getting tired of holding his face so tightly.>
Can you shut up for three seconds? Youâre givinâ me a headache. You think youâre real clever, but really youâre dumb as a rock. âCause why would you insult someone who can beat you senseless?
Whatâs your problem? What the hellâd I do??
Oh please. You wish you could beat me. I know you wouldnât dare.
⢠To respond to their other question, Guest just shrugs.
And, what can I say? You get mad so easily, itâs hard to not tease you for it.
Fuckinâ test me, why donât you? I can prove you wrong if youâd really like!
<they grab the front of his shirt as if to prove their point. They can hurt him, they swear they can. They know they can. They also know heâs right. Theyâd never really, truly hurt him. Maybe rough him up a bit if they get too frustrated, but theyâd never seriously harm him.>
I do not. I donât get mad easy. Youâre jusâ- you jusâ know how t- youâre jusâ enough of an asshole that I get kinda ticked off.
Oh sure, kinda ticked off, yet youâre yelling at me. Youâre not very good at lying.
Hmm. Fine, square up, Artie.
Fine! I will.
<they stand to their full height, a good few inches taller than him, fists clenched. Theyâd really rather not do anything, but if heâs egging them onâŚ.>
Iâm gonna rock your fuckinâ shit you- you.. <they search for insults but evidently they give up, by their awkward silence.>
⢠Guest doesnât even move, not doing much but smirking at them. He just stood there. As if he wanted them to beat him up.
âYouâ what? You canât speak now? Are you scared?
I can speak plenty! âM not fuckinâ scared! Why would I be scared?? You couldnât hurt me if you tried.
<they push him back as a threat, though in all reality itâs quite gentle. They hope they can intimidate him into leaving. A fight won without⌠any fighting.>
⢠To the surprise of no one or maybe a few, Guest stumbles back a few steps, but his expression remains the same.
You donât know that because you havenât tried me yet. What even was that, a mere preschool taunt? Come at me.
<they slam him back against the wall roughly, glaring at him through narrowed eyes. One fist finds its way to his stomach very quickly, and again and again, though they move away from him either a huff after a moment.>
Why the hell donât you fight back?? Are you scared?
<a triumphant and rather cocky grin follows>
⢠Guestâs smile had fell once they had finally, finally attack him, a strangled cough escaping him when they punch him. He leans against the wall, an arm wrapped around his midriff.
Fear? Hah, noâŚno, not fear. Something else..
⢠His face turns red, and he slowly starts to laugh again.
Are you asking me to punch you, or are you just using my tactics? I think Iâm perfectly fine in this position.
Somethinâ else? Like what?
<they give him a disgruntled look, keeping him tucked firmly against the wall, so he canât flee, or move around them. They want to keep the upper ground.>
No, I ainât askinâ you tâ punch me, âs jusâ weird that youâre not.. doinâ anythinâ. Are you some kinda masochist, or jusâ a pussy?
Well, I donât have a pussy, so I guess Iâm a masochist!
⢠He moved to lay his hands on their shoulders, pulling them closer.
You truly have no idea the kind of things you do to me. Havenât we had a discussion about this before?
well you donât have tâ have one, tâ be one- anâ- oohâŚ. Seriously?
<their face goes pink, embarrassed and perhaps mildly flustered. Where the hell is he going with this? He really is a masochist! Heâs getting off on them pushing him around! Their nose scrunches up at him, eyebrows drawn together in something between disgust and amusement.>
I donât- âscuse me??? I donât know? Youâre- youâre some special kinda freak, ainât you? Ahhaha!
Hah! Donât laugh at me as if you arenât one too.
⢠Guest trails his hand down to their chest, as if emphasizing his words.
The way youâre pinning me down really says a lot about you.
Am not!
<they move their hands away from him, as if theyâve got a point to prove. They however, donât move away from his hands, or make any moves to stop him. They contemplate continuing their fighting with him, but they figure heâd like that, and since heâs not fighting back, that means they win by default⌠right? They smile proudly, pleased with themself to have conquered their⌠foe? Theyâre not quite sure what he is in relation to them.>
See? I ainât pinninâ you- anymore. Anâ youâre the one fondlinâ anâ feelinâ me up soooâŚ
And youâve still never told me to stop or push me away, not once.
⢠He snorts at theirâŚstupid.. dumb face, rolling his eyes.
Youâre really trying to prove something arenât you?? Itâs not working.
I can if youâd like! <a bored, and rather half-assed threat. They really want to prove their point. As if to emphasize, they grab one of his hands, pulling it away from their chest with a self-satisfied grin.>
Oh, donât do that Artie.
⢠He manages to interlock their fingers with his, giving a smug grin.
Youâll hurt my feelings. Do you want to hurt my feelings?
Yes. âŚno. I donât know! Iâll do what I like, how âbout that? You fuckinâ dick..
<they draw his hand back to their chest, eyes much too confused on what theyâd like from him. Heâd spun them in circles with his teasing, and now theyâre quite disoriented- left dizzy and stumbling in their words. Their eyes flit down to his mouth for a moment, scowl deepening, because they donât like being confused.>
you stop teasinâ me! Asshole!!
Well, why donât you make me?
<they press their lips to his fast. Heâd told them to make him stop, hadnât he? Theyâd figure this suffices. They move back away from his face just as quickly as theyâd moved in, tired and still-irritable eyes catching his. They can only hope itâd shut him up.>
⢠Guest just stood in shock for a moment, mouth slightly agape. He hadnât expected them to actually do that!
Damn, ArtieâŚ
⢠He held a hand to his mouth, as if trying to savor the feeling. His face was redder than before.
You really pulled away fast, huh?..
Ohh my god!! You really never shut up, do you? Hha!!
<they stare him down, exasperated and maybe slightly amused.>
Yeah?? Well howâd you do it, smartass? Wanna give a demonstration, you touch-starved nerd?
You know I wonât shut up until I get what I want.
⢠He reached up to gently grab the back of their hair, pulling them closer to his face.
Look at you, offering again. You seem as desperate as me. Would you let me makeout with you?
â hi. đĽşâ
-The chef!! 𼊠( @the-chefs-cleaver )
(EnjoyâŚđđđ)
đł
âUhmâŚhello! So nice to meet you, whoever you are. Who are you, exactly?â
âOh yeah sorry! I work in the schoolâs cafeteria. (Ooc; Iâm guessing your guy is in the school?) The names David!.. some people just call me the chef or Mr. D!.. and uhm.. you are?â
The chef would put out his hand to shake, it being covered by a glove that he then took off with a small âsorryâ. The man would have a large, rough-textured hand.
|| he doesnât, exactly, but he lingers around sometimes!
⢠Guest gladly took the manâs hand, shaking it, his touch lasting for a moment too long.
âMy name isâŚunnecessary. People just call me Guest anyway.â
⢠He crossed his arms, giving the chef an odd look. Most wouldâve took it as nervousnessâŚor something.
âSo, Mr. D, Iâm curious about this school; is it still active? Is there still students here?â
âAh! Wellll hello Guest!.. mind if I just call you Mr. GT?..â
David would look down at the others hand as it lingered, chuckling a bit, it being in a non malicious way.
âWell.. it IS active though⌠not really.. filled with students anymore⌠from what I know itâs basically a safe space in a way.. though there are still some visitors around the area..â
âGT is fineâŚI don't really mind what you call me."
⢠At the man's words, Guest pulls out a notebook and pencil from the bag he was carrying. He was immediately interested.
âVisitors, you say? Do they normally reside here? Would you say this place is a visitor nest?â
âI donât knowâ I-I hope not.. I just know that they hang around outside⌠sometimes I gotta scare em off because they try to come inside..â
He would look away, looking upset. He didnât like the idea of dead people coming back as.. zombies?, monsters..? Who knows.. it all made him shiver, dead people should stay dead.
âI was looking for some place where I could feel safe..- I.. uhm⌠anyway uhm⌠what about you?.. whatâs it like where you stay???âŚâďżź
ââŚbig enough to scare them off.. good to know.â
⢠Guest had no shame, not even trying to be subtle as he wrote about the manâs words. He lifted his head at the question.
âOh, where I live? Itâs quite cozy, actually. Not my house, but at least the people are friendly. Do you not feel comfortable here?â
âA- excuse me???⌠actually never mind. Anyway, that sounds nice.. itâs always nice to have a place to stay.. I used to live in an apartment complex.. with my kids.. uhm.â
He would look away with a grim(?) expression, picking at his hand before clearing his throat and putting his other glove back on.
â.. I mean the people are nice enough⌠havenât really met anyone bad since I came⌠I stay in the spare classrooms. Mattress on the floor, spare closet with my stuff and thatâs mostly it.. there has been a problem with me running out of supplies or my utensil being missingâŚâ
âI donât know whether to say that sounds good, or to pity you.â
⢠At the manâs expression, Guest offers a look of worry.
âYour kids. Turned into visitors, I presume? My condolences..
Have you ever interviewed the people living here, to see if they know where your stuff has gone?â
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So, guest, how is your son?
âŚ
âŚ.
âŚ..
âConsidering the fact that I am most likely past my quotaâŚheâs probably dead. But I donât know. I donât know.â
â hi. đĽşâ
-The chef!! 𼊠( @the-chefs-cleaver )
(EnjoyâŚđđđ)
đł
âUhmâŚhello! So nice to meet you, whoever you are. Who are you, exactly?â
âOh yeah sorry! I work in the schoolâs cafeteria. (Ooc; Iâm guessing your guy is in the school?) The names David!.. some people just call me the chef or Mr. D!.. and uhm.. you are?â
The chef would put out his hand to shake, it being covered by a glove that he then took off with a small âsorryâ. The man would have a large, rough-textured hand.
|| he doesnât, exactly, but he lingers around sometimes!
⢠Guest gladly took the manâs hand, shaking it, his touch lasting for a moment too long.
âMy name isâŚunnecessary. People just call me Guest anyway.â
⢠He crossed his arms, giving the chef an odd look. Most wouldâve took it as nervousnessâŚor something.
âSo, Mr. D, Iâm curious about this school; is it still active? Is there still students here?â
âAh! Wellll hello Guest!.. mind if I just call you Mr. GT?..â
David would look down at the others hand as it lingered, chuckling a bit, it being in a non malicious way.
âWell.. it IS active though⌠not really.. filled with students anymore⌠from what I know itâs basically a safe space in a way.. though there are still some visitors around the area..â
âGT is fineâŚI don't really mind what you call me."
⢠At the man's words, Guest pulls out a notebook and pencil from the bag he was carrying. He was immediately interested.
âVisitors, you say? Do they normally reside here? Would you say this place is a visitor nest?â
âI donât knowâ I-I hope not.. I just know that they hang around outside⌠sometimes I gotta scare em off because they try to come inside..â
He would look away, looking upset. He didnât like the idea of dead people coming back as.. zombies?, monsters..? Who knows.. it all made him shiver, dead people should stay dead.
âI was looking for some place where I could feel safe..- I.. uhm⌠anyway uhm⌠what about you?.. whatâs it like where you stay???âŚâďżź
ââŚbig enough to scare them off.. good to know.â
⢠Guest had no shame, not even trying to be subtle as he wrote about the manâs words. He lifted his head at the question.
âOh, where I live? Itâs quite cozy, actually. Not my house, but at least the people are friendly. Do you not feel comfortable here?â
Artie, you absolute wimp, why do you keep letting that odd woman bother you?
-@theominousguest
I ainât a wimp. Youâre a wimp. Ha! <oooh, they really got him there..> Anâ umm.. <they pause, considering.> how âbout you take your nose outta my business anâ shove it up your ass instead?
âŚseriously?
⢠At their sudden outburst, or short tantrum, Guest laughs. Mocking them.
One, that wasnât clever; two, that isnât possible; and three, youâre kinda proving my point. What are you so butthurt about?
Very seriously, yeah. That was very clever, you can do anything you set your mind to, anâ how am I provinâ your point?? Callinâ you nosy- âcause you are- does not make me a wimp.
Iâm not butthurt! Iâll make your- never mind. Hhaha⌠<they giggle to themself awkwardly, reddening slightly at their own miscalculation of words.>
Hah. You better be careful, I might enjoy it.
Also, Iâm calling you a wimp because you went straight to insults instead of answering my question. My point is that youâre cowering from on odd freak-show of a woman and doing nothing at all to stop her.
So, youâre still a wimp.
Good, maybe thatâs what- thatâs what I want! SssoâŚ.. uh there! <theyâre losing the thread. This is no longer a threat.>
Well, I only did that âcause you called me a wimp! Anâ if you think itâs so easy tâ make her go away Iâd absolutely love tâ see you try. I have tried it jusâ didnât work, dipshit. She doesnât listen.
Anâ Iâm not a goddamn wimp.
You know she has a husband now? You know you can communicate with the husband to get her to stop? Or talk about it with her like a man?
But whatever, if youâre too scared to do it, Iâll handle it myself. Mâkay? Twinkie.
I feel youâre not hearing me. Can you hear me?? <they snap their fingers at him for emphasis.>
I have talked tâ her. âLike a manâ. Iâve told her tâ fuck off, anâ that I hate her anâ why anâ⌠whatever.. she jusâ doesnât listen!! Her husbandâs probably as bad as her if heâs willingly married her.
I ainât scared anâ I ainât a goddamn âtwinkâ either. I bet I could f- I could take you out if I wanted!
<theyâre bluffing. They might be able to- maybe- but even if they were capable they certainly wonât try anything. They run from fights more often than they actually ever hurt anyone.>
Hey, you watch yourself, Orion is great. Heâs just fucked up in the head. She probably manipulated him into it somehow..
⢠Guest frowns at their threat, crossing his arms and giving them a defiant look.
âŚhe would not win in a fight against them. But they donât need to know that.
And Iâm sure I can take you just fine.
I donât even know who Orion is. Whatever. HA! No you canât. I could beat your ass even with one leg. Or you could drop it, sweetheart.
<thereâs a venomous sweetness to their nickname of endearment.>
Pfft, as if I would. That would make me a coward, and I am nothing like you.
⢠He reciprocated their tone, leaning forward to poke their chest with a smug grin.
Wimp.
I ainât a goddamn coward!
<they hiss, grabbing his jaw with one hand on an impulse. Itâs mildly threatening, though it likely isnât intended to be. Itâs not really intended to be anything at all. Theyâd done it without a thought.>
Shut the hell up, you nosy bitch!
⢠His eyes had widened in shock at first, shocked by the audacityâ he hadnât expected them to actually act outâ but then he just burst out laughing. Just straight up hooting and hollering in their face.
Oh man- oh, Artie, the man you are.
⢠He tugged at their wrist, attempting to get their hand off.
Truly, you are something else. So defensive over the smallest of things. It almost makes me want to insult you again.
<they let him go with a grimace. Not because he tugged at their wrist, no, more because they fingers are getting tired of holding his face so tightly.>
Can you shut up for three seconds? Youâre givinâ me a headache. You think youâre real clever, but really youâre dumb as a rock. âCause why would you insult someone who can beat you senseless?
Whatâs your problem? What the hellâd I do??
Oh please. You wish you could beat me. I know you wouldnât dare.
⢠To respond to their other question, Guest just shrugs.
And, what can I say? You get mad so easily, itâs hard to not tease you for it.
Fuckinâ test me, why donât you? I can prove you wrong if youâd really like!
<they grab the front of his shirt as if to prove their point. They can hurt him, they swear they can. They know they can. They also know heâs right. Theyâd never really, truly hurt him. Maybe rough him up a bit if they get too frustrated, but theyâd never seriously harm him.>
I do not. I donât get mad easy. Youâre jusâ- you jusâ know how t- youâre jusâ enough of an asshole that I get kinda ticked off.
Oh sure, kinda ticked off, yet youâre yelling at me. Youâre not very good at lying.
Hmm. Fine, square up, Artie.
Fine! I will.
<they stand to their full height, a good few inches taller than him, fists clenched. Theyâd really rather not do anything, but if heâs egging them onâŚ.>
Iâm gonna rock your fuckinâ shit you- you.. <they search for insults but evidently they give up, by their awkward silence.>
⢠Guest doesnât even move, not doing much but smirking at them. He just stood there. As if he wanted them to beat him up.
âYouâ what? You canât speak now? Are you scared?
I can speak plenty! âM not fuckinâ scared! Why would I be scared?? You couldnât hurt me if you tried.
<they push him back as a threat, though in all reality itâs quite gentle. They hope they can intimidate him into leaving. A fight won without⌠any fighting.>
⢠To the surprise of no one or maybe a few, Guest stumbles back a few steps, but his expression remains the same.
You donât know that because you havenât tried me yet. What even was that, a mere preschool taunt? Come at me.
<they slam him back against the wall roughly, glaring at him through narrowed eyes. One fist finds its way to his stomach very quickly, and again and again, though they move away from him either a huff after a moment.>
Why the hell donât you fight back?? Are you scared?
<a triumphant and rather cocky grin follows>
⢠Guestâs smile had fell once they had finally, finally attack him, a strangled cough escaping him when they punch him. He leans against the wall, an arm wrapped around his midriff.
Fear? Hah, noâŚno, not fear. Something else..
⢠His face turns red, and he slowly starts to laugh again.
Are you asking me to punch you, or are you just using my tactics? I think Iâm perfectly fine in this position.
Somethinâ else? Like what?
<they give him a disgruntled look, keeping him tucked firmly against the wall, so he canât flee, or move around them. They want to keep the upper ground.>
No, I ainât askinâ you tâ punch me, âs jusâ weird that youâre not.. doinâ anythinâ. Are you some kinda masochist, or jusâ a pussy?
Well, I donât have a pussy, so I guess Iâm a masochist!
⢠He moved to lay his hands on their shoulders, pulling them closer.
You truly have no idea the kind of things you do to me. Havenât we had a discussion about this before?
well you donât have tâ have one, tâ be one- anâ- oohâŚ. Seriously?
<their face goes pink, embarrassed and perhaps mildly flustered. Where the hell is he going with this? He really is a masochist! Heâs getting off on them pushing him around! Their nose scrunches up at him, eyebrows drawn together in something between disgust and amusement.>
I donât- âscuse me??? I donât know? Youâre- youâre some special kinda freak, ainât you? Ahhaha!
Hah! Donât laugh at me as if you arenât one too.
⢠Guest trails his hand down to their chest, as if emphasizing his words.
The way youâre pinning me down really says a lot about you.
Am not!
<they move their hands away from him, as if theyâve got a point to prove. They however, donât move away from his hands, or make any moves to stop him. They contemplate continuing their fighting with him, but they figure heâd like that, and since heâs not fighting back, that means they win by default⌠right? They smile proudly, pleased with themself to have conquered their⌠foe? Theyâre not quite sure what he is in relation to them.>
See? I ainât pinninâ you- anymore. Anâ youâre the one fondlinâ anâ feelinâ me up soooâŚ
And youâve still never told me to stop or push me away, not once.
⢠He snorts at theirâŚstupid.. dumb face, rolling his eyes.
Youâre really trying to prove something arenât you?? Itâs not working.
I can if youâd like! <a bored, and rather half-assed threat. They really want to prove their point. As if to emphasize, they grab one of his hands, pulling it away from their chest with a self-satisfied grin.>
Oh, donât do that Artie.
⢠He manages to interlock their fingers with his, giving a smug grin.
Youâll hurt my feelings. Do you want to hurt my feelings?
Yes. âŚno. I donât know! Iâll do what I like, how âbout that? You fuckinâ dick..
<they draw his hand back to their chest, eyes much too confused on what theyâd like from him. Heâd spun them in circles with his teasing, and now theyâre quite disoriented- left dizzy and stumbling in their words. Their eyes flit down to his mouth for a moment, scowl deepening, because they donât like being confused.>
you stop teasinâ me! Asshole!!
Well, why donât you make me?
<they press their lips to his fast. Heâd told them to make him stop, hadnât he? Theyâd figure this suffices. They move back away from his face just as quickly as theyâd moved in, tired and still-irritable eyes catching his. They can only hope itâd shut him up.>
⢠Guest just stood in shock for a moment, mouth slightly agape. He hadnât expected them to actually do that!
Damn, ArtieâŚ
⢠He held a hand to his mouth, as if trying to savor the feeling. His face was redder than before.
You really pulled away fast, huh?..
â hi. đĽşâ
-The chef!! 𼊠( @the-chefs-cleaver )
(EnjoyâŚđđđ)
đł
âUhmâŚhello! So nice to meet you, whoever you are. Who are you, exactly?â
âOh yeah sorry! I work in the schoolâs cafeteria. (Ooc; Iâm guessing your guy is in the school?) The names David!.. some people just call me the chef or Mr. D!.. and uhm.. you are?â
The chef would put out his hand to shake, it being covered by a glove that he then took off with a small âsorryâ. The man would have a large, rough-textured hand.
|| he doesnât, exactly, but he lingers around sometimes!
⢠Guest gladly took the manâs hand, shaking it, his touch lasting for a moment too long.
âMy name isâŚunnecessary. People just call me Guest anyway.â
⢠He crossed his arms, giving the chef an odd look. Most wouldâve took it as nervousnessâŚor something.
âSo, Mr. D, Iâm curious about this school; is it still active? Is there still students here?â
âAh! Wellll hello Guest!.. mind if I just call you Mr. GT?..â
David would look down at the others hand as it lingered, chuckling a bit, it being in a non malicious way.
âWell.. it IS active though⌠not really.. filled with students anymore⌠from what I know itâs basically a safe space in a way.. though there are still some visitors around the area..â
âGT is fineâŚI don't really mind what you call me."
⢠At the man's words, Guest pulls out a notebook and pencil from the bag he was carrying. He was immediately interested.
âVisitors, you say? Do they normally reside here? Would you say this place is a visitor nest?â
Artie, you absolute wimp, why do you keep letting that odd woman bother you?
-@theominousguest
I ainât a wimp. Youâre a wimp. Ha! <oooh, they really got him there..> Anâ umm.. <they pause, considering.> how âbout you take your nose outta my business anâ shove it up your ass instead?
âŚseriously?
⢠At their sudden outburst, or short tantrum, Guest laughs. Mocking them.
One, that wasnât clever; two, that isnât possible; and three, youâre kinda proving my point. What are you so butthurt about?
Very seriously, yeah. That was very clever, you can do anything you set your mind to, anâ how am I provinâ your point?? Callinâ you nosy- âcause you are- does not make me a wimp.
Iâm not butthurt! Iâll make your- never mind. Hhaha⌠<they giggle to themself awkwardly, reddening slightly at their own miscalculation of words.>
Hah. You better be careful, I might enjoy it.
Also, Iâm calling you a wimp because you went straight to insults instead of answering my question. My point is that youâre cowering from on odd freak-show of a woman and doing nothing at all to stop her.
So, youâre still a wimp.
Good, maybe thatâs what- thatâs what I want! SssoâŚ.. uh there! <theyâre losing the thread. This is no longer a threat.>
Well, I only did that âcause you called me a wimp! Anâ if you think itâs so easy tâ make her go away Iâd absolutely love tâ see you try. I have tried it jusâ didnât work, dipshit. She doesnât listen.
Anâ Iâm not a goddamn wimp.
You know she has a husband now? You know you can communicate with the husband to get her to stop? Or talk about it with her like a man?
But whatever, if youâre too scared to do it, Iâll handle it myself. Mâkay? Twinkie.
I feel youâre not hearing me. Can you hear me?? <they snap their fingers at him for emphasis.>
I have talked tâ her. âLike a manâ. Iâve told her tâ fuck off, anâ that I hate her anâ why anâ⌠whatever.. she jusâ doesnât listen!! Her husbandâs probably as bad as her if heâs willingly married her.
I ainât scared anâ I ainât a goddamn âtwinkâ either. I bet I could f- I could take you out if I wanted!
<theyâre bluffing. They might be able to- maybe- but even if they were capable they certainly wonât try anything. They run from fights more often than they actually ever hurt anyone.>
Hey, you watch yourself, Orion is great. Heâs just fucked up in the head. She probably manipulated him into it somehow..
⢠Guest frowns at their threat, crossing his arms and giving them a defiant look.
âŚhe would not win in a fight against them. But they donât need to know that.
And Iâm sure I can take you just fine.
I donât even know who Orion is. Whatever. HA! No you canât. I could beat your ass even with one leg. Or you could drop it, sweetheart.
<thereâs a venomous sweetness to their nickname of endearment.>
Pfft, as if I would. That would make me a coward, and I am nothing like you.
⢠He reciprocated their tone, leaning forward to poke their chest with a smug grin.
Wimp.
I ainât a goddamn coward!
<they hiss, grabbing his jaw with one hand on an impulse. Itâs mildly threatening, though it likely isnât intended to be. Itâs not really intended to be anything at all. Theyâd done it without a thought.>
Shut the hell up, you nosy bitch!
⢠His eyes had widened in shock at first, shocked by the audacityâ he hadnât expected them to actually act outâ but then he just burst out laughing. Just straight up hooting and hollering in their face.
Oh man- oh, Artie, the man you are.
⢠He tugged at their wrist, attempting to get their hand off.
Truly, you are something else. So defensive over the smallest of things. It almost makes me want to insult you again.
<they let him go with a grimace. Not because he tugged at their wrist, no, more because they fingers are getting tired of holding his face so tightly.>
Can you shut up for three seconds? Youâre givinâ me a headache. You think youâre real clever, but really youâre dumb as a rock. âCause why would you insult someone who can beat you senseless?
Whatâs your problem? What the hellâd I do??
Oh please. You wish you could beat me. I know you wouldnât dare.
⢠To respond to their other question, Guest just shrugs.
And, what can I say? You get mad so easily, itâs hard to not tease you for it.
Fuckinâ test me, why donât you? I can prove you wrong if youâd really like!
<they grab the front of his shirt as if to prove their point. They can hurt him, they swear they can. They know they can. They also know heâs right. Theyâd never really, truly hurt him. Maybe rough him up a bit if they get too frustrated, but theyâd never seriously harm him.>
I do not. I donât get mad easy. Youâre jusâ- you jusâ know how t- youâre jusâ enough of an asshole that I get kinda ticked off.
Oh sure, kinda ticked off, yet youâre yelling at me. Youâre not very good at lying.
Hmm. Fine, square up, Artie.
Fine! I will.
<they stand to their full height, a good few inches taller than him, fists clenched. Theyâd really rather not do anything, but if heâs egging them onâŚ.>
Iâm gonna rock your fuckinâ shit you- you.. <they search for insults but evidently they give up, by their awkward silence.>
⢠Guest doesnât even move, not doing much but smirking at them. He just stood there. As if he wanted them to beat him up.
âYouâ what? You canât speak now? Are you scared?
I can speak plenty! âM not fuckinâ scared! Why would I be scared?? You couldnât hurt me if you tried.
<they push him back as a threat, though in all reality itâs quite gentle. They hope they can intimidate him into leaving. A fight won without⌠any fighting.>
⢠To the surprise of no one or maybe a few, Guest stumbles back a few steps, but his expression remains the same.
You donât know that because you havenât tried me yet. What even was that, a mere preschool taunt? Come at me.
<they slam him back against the wall roughly, glaring at him through narrowed eyes. One fist finds its way to his stomach very quickly, and again and again, though they move away from him either a huff after a moment.>
Why the hell donât you fight back?? Are you scared?
<a triumphant and rather cocky grin follows>
⢠Guestâs smile had fell once they had finally, finally attack him, a strangled cough escaping him when they punch him. He leans against the wall, an arm wrapped around his midriff.
Fear? Hah, noâŚno, not fear. Something else..
⢠His face turns red, and he slowly starts to laugh again.
Are you asking me to punch you, or are you just using my tactics? I think Iâm perfectly fine in this position.
Somethinâ else? Like what?
<they give him a disgruntled look, keeping him tucked firmly against the wall, so he canât flee, or move around them. They want to keep the upper ground.>
No, I ainât askinâ you tâ punch me, âs jusâ weird that youâre not.. doinâ anythinâ. Are you some kinda masochist, or jusâ a pussy?
Well, I donât have a pussy, so I guess Iâm a masochist!
⢠He moved to lay his hands on their shoulders, pulling them closer.
You truly have no idea the kind of things you do to me. Havenât we had a discussion about this before?
well you donât have tâ have one, tâ be one- anâ- oohâŚ. Seriously?
<their face goes pink, embarrassed and perhaps mildly flustered. Where the hell is he going with this? He really is a masochist! Heâs getting off on them pushing him around! Their nose scrunches up at him, eyebrows drawn together in something between disgust and amusement.>
I donât- âscuse me??? I donât know? Youâre- youâre some special kinda freak, ainât you? Ahhaha!
Hah! Donât laugh at me as if you arenât one too.
⢠Guest trails his hand down to their chest, as if emphasizing his words.
The way youâre pinning me down really says a lot about you.
Am not!
<they move their hands away from him, as if theyâve got a point to prove. They however, donât move away from his hands, or make any moves to stop him. They contemplate continuing their fighting with him, but they figure heâd like that, and since heâs not fighting back, that means they win by default⌠right? They smile proudly, pleased with themself to have conquered their⌠foe? Theyâre not quite sure what he is in relation to them.>
See? I ainât pinninâ you- anymore. Anâ youâre the one fondlinâ anâ feelinâ me up soooâŚ
And youâve still never told me to stop or push me away, not once.
⢠He snorts at theirâŚstupid.. dumb face, rolling his eyes.
Youâre really trying to prove something arenât you?? Itâs not working.
I can if youâd like! <a bored, and rather half-assed threat. They really want to prove their point. As if to emphasize, they grab one of his hands, pulling it away from their chest with a self-satisfied grin.>
Oh, donât do that Artie.
⢠He manages to interlock their fingers with his, giving a smug grin.
Youâll hurt my feelings. Do you want to hurt my feelings?
Yes. âŚno. I donât know! Iâll do what I like, how âbout that? You fuckinâ dick..
<they draw his hand back to their chest, eyes much too confused on what theyâd like from him. Heâd spun them in circles with his teasing, and now theyâre quite disoriented- left dizzy and stumbling in their words. Their eyes flit down to his mouth for a moment, scowl deepening, because they donât like being confused.>
you stop teasinâ me! Asshole!!
Well, why donât you make me?
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Artie, you absolute wimp, why do you keep letting that odd woman bother you?
-@theominousguest
I ainât a wimp. Youâre a wimp. Ha! <oooh, they really got him there..> Anâ umm.. <they pause, considering.> how âbout you take your nose outta my business anâ shove it up your ass instead?
âŚseriously?
⢠At their sudden outburst, or short tantrum, Guest laughs. Mocking them.
One, that wasnât clever; two, that isnât possible; and three, youâre kinda proving my point. What are you so butthurt about?
Very seriously, yeah. That was very clever, you can do anything you set your mind to, anâ how am I provinâ your point?? Callinâ you nosy- âcause you are- does not make me a wimp.
Iâm not butthurt! Iâll make your- never mind. Hhaha⌠<they giggle to themself awkwardly, reddening slightly at their own miscalculation of words.>
Hah. You better be careful, I might enjoy it.
Also, Iâm calling you a wimp because you went straight to insults instead of answering my question. My point is that youâre cowering from on odd freak-show of a woman and doing nothing at all to stop her.
So, youâre still a wimp.
Good, maybe thatâs what- thatâs what I want! SssoâŚ.. uh there! <theyâre losing the thread. This is no longer a threat.>
Well, I only did that âcause you called me a wimp! Anâ if you think itâs so easy tâ make her go away Iâd absolutely love tâ see you try. I have tried it jusâ didnât work, dipshit. She doesnât listen.
Anâ Iâm not a goddamn wimp.
You know she has a husband now? You know you can communicate with the husband to get her to stop? Or talk about it with her like a man?
But whatever, if youâre too scared to do it, Iâll handle it myself. Mâkay? Twinkie.
I feel youâre not hearing me. Can you hear me?? <they snap their fingers at him for emphasis.>
I have talked tâ her. âLike a manâ. Iâve told her tâ fuck off, anâ that I hate her anâ why anâ⌠whatever.. she jusâ doesnât listen!! Her husbandâs probably as bad as her if heâs willingly married her.
I ainât scared anâ I ainât a goddamn âtwinkâ either. I bet I could f- I could take you out if I wanted!
<theyâre bluffing. They might be able to- maybe- but even if they were capable they certainly wonât try anything. They run from fights more often than they actually ever hurt anyone.>
Hey, you watch yourself, Orion is great. Heâs just fucked up in the head. She probably manipulated him into it somehow..
⢠Guest frowns at their threat, crossing his arms and giving them a defiant look.
âŚhe would not win in a fight against them. But they donât need to know that.
And Iâm sure I can take you just fine.
I donât even know who Orion is. Whatever. HA! No you canât. I could beat your ass even with one leg. Or you could drop it, sweetheart.
<thereâs a venomous sweetness to their nickname of endearment.>
Pfft, as if I would. That would make me a coward, and I am nothing like you.
⢠He reciprocated their tone, leaning forward to poke their chest with a smug grin.
Wimp.
I ainât a goddamn coward!
<they hiss, grabbing his jaw with one hand on an impulse. Itâs mildly threatening, though it likely isnât intended to be. Itâs not really intended to be anything at all. Theyâd done it without a thought.>
Shut the hell up, you nosy bitch!
⢠His eyes had widened in shock at first, shocked by the audacityâ he hadnât expected them to actually act outâ but then he just burst out laughing. Just straight up hooting and hollering in their face.
Oh man- oh, Artie, the man you are.
⢠He tugged at their wrist, attempting to get their hand off.
Truly, you are something else. So defensive over the smallest of things. It almost makes me want to insult you again.
<they let him go with a grimace. Not because he tugged at their wrist, no, more because they fingers are getting tired of holding his face so tightly.>
Can you shut up for three seconds? Youâre givinâ me a headache. You think youâre real clever, but really youâre dumb as a rock. âCause why would you insult someone who can beat you senseless?
Whatâs your problem? What the hellâd I do??
Oh please. You wish you could beat me. I know you wouldnât dare.
⢠To respond to their other question, Guest just shrugs.
And, what can I say? You get mad so easily, itâs hard to not tease you for it.
Fuckinâ test me, why donât you? I can prove you wrong if youâd really like!
<they grab the front of his shirt as if to prove their point. They can hurt him, they swear they can. They know they can. They also know heâs right. Theyâd never really, truly hurt him. Maybe rough him up a bit if they get too frustrated, but theyâd never seriously harm him.>
I do not. I donât get mad easy. Youâre jusâ- you jusâ know how t- youâre jusâ enough of an asshole that I get kinda ticked off.
Oh sure, kinda ticked off, yet youâre yelling at me. Youâre not very good at lying.
Hmm. Fine, square up, Artie.
Fine! I will.
<they stand to their full height, a good few inches taller than him, fists clenched. Theyâd really rather not do anything, but if heâs egging them onâŚ.>
Iâm gonna rock your fuckinâ shit you- you.. <they search for insults but evidently they give up, by their awkward silence.>
⢠Guest doesnât even move, not doing much but smirking at them. He just stood there. As if he wanted them to beat him up.
âYouâ what? You canât speak now? Are you scared?
I can speak plenty! âM not fuckinâ scared! Why would I be scared?? You couldnât hurt me if you tried.
<they push him back as a threat, though in all reality itâs quite gentle. They hope they can intimidate him into leaving. A fight won without⌠any fighting.>
⢠To the surprise of no one or maybe a few, Guest stumbles back a few steps, but his expression remains the same.
You donât know that because you havenât tried me yet. What even was that, a mere preschool taunt? Come at me.
<they slam him back against the wall roughly, glaring at him through narrowed eyes. One fist finds its way to his stomach very quickly, and again and again, though they move away from him either a huff after a moment.>
Why the hell donât you fight back?? Are you scared?
<a triumphant and rather cocky grin follows>
⢠Guestâs smile had fell once they had finally, finally attack him, a strangled cough escaping him when they punch him. He leans against the wall, an arm wrapped around his midriff.
Fear? Hah, noâŚno, not fear. Something else..
⢠His face turns red, and he slowly starts to laugh again.
Are you asking me to punch you, or are you just using my tactics? I think Iâm perfectly fine in this position.
Somethinâ else? Like what?
<they give him a disgruntled look, keeping him tucked firmly against the wall, so he canât flee, or move around them. They want to keep the upper ground.>
No, I ainât askinâ you tâ punch me, âs jusâ weird that youâre not.. doinâ anythinâ. Are you some kinda masochist, or jusâ a pussy?
Well, I donât have a pussy, so I guess Iâm a masochist!
⢠He moved to lay his hands on their shoulders, pulling them closer.
You truly have no idea the kind of things you do to me. Havenât we had a discussion about this before?
well you donât have tâ have one, tâ be one- anâ- oohâŚ. Seriously?
<their face goes pink, embarrassed and perhaps mildly flustered. Where the hell is he going with this? He really is a masochist! Heâs getting off on them pushing him around! Their nose scrunches up at him, eyebrows drawn together in something between disgust and amusement.>
I donât- âscuse me??? I donât know? Youâre- youâre some special kinda freak, ainât you? Ahhaha!
Hah! Donât laugh at me as if you arenât one too.
⢠Guest trails his hand down to their chest, as if emphasizing his words.
The way youâre pinning me down really says a lot about you.
Am not!
<they move their hands away from him, as if theyâve got a point to prove. They however, donât move away from his hands, or make any moves to stop him. They contemplate continuing their fighting with him, but they figure heâd like that, and since heâs not fighting back, that means they win by default⌠right? They smile proudly, pleased with themself to have conquered their⌠foe? Theyâre not quite sure what he is in relation to them.>
See? I ainât pinninâ you- anymore. Anâ youâre the one fondlinâ anâ feelinâ me up soooâŚ
And youâve still never told me to stop or push me away, not once.
⢠He snorts at theirâŚstupid.. dumb face, rolling his eyes.
Youâre really trying to prove something arenât you?? Itâs not working.
I can if youâd like! <a bored, and rather half-assed threat. They really want to prove their point. As if to emphasize, they grab one of his hands, pulling it away from their chest with a self-satisfied grin.>
Oh, donât do that Artie.
⢠He manages to interlock their fingers with his, giving a smug grin.
Youâll hurt my feelings. Do you want to hurt my feelings?
â hi. đĽşâ
-The chef!! 𼊠( @the-chefs-cleaver )
(EnjoyâŚđđđ)
đł
âUhmâŚhello! So nice to meet you, whoever you are. Who are you, exactly?â
âOh yeah sorry! I work in the schoolâs cafeteria. (Ooc; Iâm guessing your guy is in the school?) The names David!.. some people just call me the chef or Mr. D!.. and uhm.. you are?â
The chef would put out his hand to shake, it being covered by a glove that he then took off with a small âsorryâ. The man would have a large, rough-textured hand.
|| he doesnât, exactly, but he lingers around sometimes!
⢠Guest gladly took the manâs hand, shaking it, his touch lasting for a moment too long.
âMy name isâŚunnecessary. People just call me Guest anyway.â
⢠He crossed his arms, giving the chef an odd look. Most wouldâve took it as nervousnessâŚor something.
âSo, Mr. D, Iâm curious about this school; is it still active? Is there still students here?â
Artie, you absolute wimp, why do you keep letting that odd woman bother you?
-@theominousguest
I ainât a wimp. Youâre a wimp. Ha! <oooh, they really got him there..> Anâ umm.. <they pause, considering.> how âbout you take your nose outta my business anâ shove it up your ass instead?
âŚseriously?
⢠At their sudden outburst, or short tantrum, Guest laughs. Mocking them.
One, that wasnât clever; two, that isnât possible; and three, youâre kinda proving my point. What are you so butthurt about?
Very seriously, yeah. That was very clever, you can do anything you set your mind to, anâ how am I provinâ your point?? Callinâ you nosy- âcause you are- does not make me a wimp.
Iâm not butthurt! Iâll make your- never mind. Hhaha⌠<they giggle to themself awkwardly, reddening slightly at their own miscalculation of words.>
Hah. You better be careful, I might enjoy it.
Also, Iâm calling you a wimp because you went straight to insults instead of answering my question. My point is that youâre cowering from on odd freak-show of a woman and doing nothing at all to stop her.
So, youâre still a wimp.
Good, maybe thatâs what- thatâs what I want! SssoâŚ.. uh there! <theyâre losing the thread. This is no longer a threat.>
Well, I only did that âcause you called me a wimp! Anâ if you think itâs so easy tâ make her go away Iâd absolutely love tâ see you try. I have tried it jusâ didnât work, dipshit. She doesnât listen.
Anâ Iâm not a goddamn wimp.
You know she has a husband now? You know you can communicate with the husband to get her to stop? Or talk about it with her like a man?
But whatever, if youâre too scared to do it, Iâll handle it myself. Mâkay? Twinkie.
I feel youâre not hearing me. Can you hear me?? <they snap their fingers at him for emphasis.>
I have talked tâ her. âLike a manâ. Iâve told her tâ fuck off, anâ that I hate her anâ why anâ⌠whatever.. she jusâ doesnât listen!! Her husbandâs probably as bad as her if heâs willingly married her.
I ainât scared anâ I ainât a goddamn âtwinkâ either. I bet I could f- I could take you out if I wanted!
<theyâre bluffing. They might be able to- maybe- but even if they were capable they certainly wonât try anything. They run from fights more often than they actually ever hurt anyone.>
Hey, you watch yourself, Orion is great. Heâs just fucked up in the head. She probably manipulated him into it somehow..
⢠Guest frowns at their threat, crossing his arms and giving them a defiant look.
âŚhe would not win in a fight against them. But they donât need to know that.
And Iâm sure I can take you just fine.
I donât even know who Orion is. Whatever. HA! No you canât. I could beat your ass even with one leg. Or you could drop it, sweetheart.
<thereâs a venomous sweetness to their nickname of endearment.>
Pfft, as if I would. That would make me a coward, and I am nothing like you.
⢠He reciprocated their tone, leaning forward to poke their chest with a smug grin.
Wimp.
I ainât a goddamn coward!
<they hiss, grabbing his jaw with one hand on an impulse. Itâs mildly threatening, though it likely isnât intended to be. Itâs not really intended to be anything at all. Theyâd done it without a thought.>
Shut the hell up, you nosy bitch!
⢠His eyes had widened in shock at first, shocked by the audacityâ he hadnât expected them to actually act outâ but then he just burst out laughing. Just straight up hooting and hollering in their face.
Oh man- oh, Artie, the man you are.
⢠He tugged at their wrist, attempting to get their hand off.
Truly, you are something else. So defensive over the smallest of things. It almost makes me want to insult you again.
<they let him go with a grimace. Not because he tugged at their wrist, no, more because they fingers are getting tired of holding his face so tightly.>
Can you shut up for three seconds? Youâre givinâ me a headache. You think youâre real clever, but really youâre dumb as a rock. âCause why would you insult someone who can beat you senseless?
Whatâs your problem? What the hellâd I do??
Oh please. You wish you could beat me. I know you wouldnât dare.
⢠To respond to their other question, Guest just shrugs.
And, what can I say? You get mad so easily, itâs hard to not tease you for it.
Fuckinâ test me, why donât you? I can prove you wrong if youâd really like!
<they grab the front of his shirt as if to prove their point. They can hurt him, they swear they can. They know they can. They also know heâs right. Theyâd never really, truly hurt him. Maybe rough him up a bit if they get too frustrated, but theyâd never seriously harm him.>
I do not. I donât get mad easy. Youâre jusâ- you jusâ know how t- youâre jusâ enough of an asshole that I get kinda ticked off.
Oh sure, kinda ticked off, yet youâre yelling at me. Youâre not very good at lying.
Hmm. Fine, square up, Artie.
Fine! I will.
<they stand to their full height, a good few inches taller than him, fists clenched. Theyâd really rather not do anything, but if heâs egging them onâŚ.>
Iâm gonna rock your fuckinâ shit you- you.. <they search for insults but evidently they give up, by their awkward silence.>
⢠Guest doesnât even move, not doing much but smirking at them. He just stood there. As if he wanted them to beat him up.
âYouâ what? You canât speak now? Are you scared?
I can speak plenty! âM not fuckinâ scared! Why would I be scared?? You couldnât hurt me if you tried.
<they push him back as a threat, though in all reality itâs quite gentle. They hope they can intimidate him into leaving. A fight won without⌠any fighting.>
⢠To the surprise of no one or maybe a few, Guest stumbles back a few steps, but his expression remains the same.
You donât know that because you havenât tried me yet. What even was that, a mere preschool taunt? Come at me.
<they slam him back against the wall roughly, glaring at him through narrowed eyes. One fist finds its way to his stomach very quickly, and again and again, though they move away from him either a huff after a moment.>
Why the hell donât you fight back?? Are you scared?
<a triumphant and rather cocky grin follows>
⢠Guestâs smile had fell once they had finally, finally attack him, a strangled cough escaping him when they punch him. He leans against the wall, an arm wrapped around his midriff.
Fear? Hah, noâŚno, not fear. Something else..
⢠His face turns red, and he slowly starts to laugh again.
Are you asking me to punch you, or are you just using my tactics? I think Iâm perfectly fine in this position.
Somethinâ else? Like what?
<they give him a disgruntled look, keeping him tucked firmly against the wall, so he canât flee, or move around them. They want to keep the upper ground.>
No, I ainât askinâ you tâ punch me, âs jusâ weird that youâre not.. doinâ anythinâ. Are you some kinda masochist, or jusâ a pussy?
Well, I donât have a pussy, so I guess Iâm a masochist!
⢠He moved to lay his hands on their shoulders, pulling them closer.
You truly have no idea the kind of things you do to me. Havenât we had a discussion about this before?
well you donât have tâ have one, tâ be one- anâ- oohâŚ. Seriously?
<their face goes pink, embarrassed and perhaps mildly flustered. Where the hell is he going with this? He really is a masochist! Heâs getting off on them pushing him around! Their nose scrunches up at him, eyebrows drawn together in something between disgust and amusement.>
I donât- âscuse me??? I donât know? Youâre- youâre some special kinda freak, ainât you? Ahhaha!
Hah! Donât laugh at me as if you arenât one too.
⢠Guest trails his hand down to their chest, as if emphasizing his words.
The way youâre pinning me down really says a lot about you.
Am not!
<they move their hands away from him, as if theyâve got a point to prove. They however, donât move away from his hands, or make any moves to stop him. They contemplate continuing their fighting with him, but they figure heâd like that, and since heâs not fighting back, that means they win by default⌠right? They smile proudly, pleased with themself to have conquered their⌠foe? Theyâre not quite sure what he is in relation to them.>
See? I ainât pinninâ you- anymore. Anâ youâre the one fondlinâ anâ feelinâ me up soooâŚ
And youâve still never told me to stop or push me away, not once.
⢠He snorts at theirâŚstupid.. dumb face, rolling his eyes.
Youâre really trying to prove something arenât you?? Itâs not working.
â hi. đĽşâ
-The chef!! 𼊠( @the-chefs-cleaver )
(EnjoyâŚđđđ)
đł
âUhmâŚhello! So nice to meet you, whoever you are. Who are you, exactly?â
Artie, you absolute wimp, why do you keep letting that odd woman bother you?
-@theominousguest
I ainât a wimp. Youâre a wimp. Ha! <oooh, they really got him there..> Anâ umm.. <they pause, considering.> how âbout you take your nose outta my business anâ shove it up your ass instead?
âŚseriously?
⢠At their sudden outburst, or short tantrum, Guest laughs. Mocking them.
One, that wasnât clever; two, that isnât possible; and three, youâre kinda proving my point. What are you so butthurt about?
Very seriously, yeah. That was very clever, you can do anything you set your mind to, anâ how am I provinâ your point?? Callinâ you nosy- âcause you are- does not make me a wimp.
Iâm not butthurt! Iâll make your- never mind. Hhaha⌠<they giggle to themself awkwardly, reddening slightly at their own miscalculation of words.>
Hah. You better be careful, I might enjoy it.
Also, Iâm calling you a wimp because you went straight to insults instead of answering my question. My point is that youâre cowering from on odd freak-show of a woman and doing nothing at all to stop her.
So, youâre still a wimp.
Good, maybe thatâs what- thatâs what I want! SssoâŚ.. uh there! <theyâre losing the thread. This is no longer a threat.>
Well, I only did that âcause you called me a wimp! Anâ if you think itâs so easy tâ make her go away Iâd absolutely love tâ see you try. I have tried it jusâ didnât work, dipshit. She doesnât listen.
Anâ Iâm not a goddamn wimp.
You know she has a husband now? You know you can communicate with the husband to get her to stop? Or talk about it with her like a man?
But whatever, if youâre too scared to do it, Iâll handle it myself. Mâkay? Twinkie.
I feel youâre not hearing me. Can you hear me?? <they snap their fingers at him for emphasis.>
I have talked tâ her. âLike a manâ. Iâve told her tâ fuck off, anâ that I hate her anâ why anâ⌠whatever.. she jusâ doesnât listen!! Her husbandâs probably as bad as her if heâs willingly married her.
I ainât scared anâ I ainât a goddamn âtwinkâ either. I bet I could f- I could take you out if I wanted!
<theyâre bluffing. They might be able to- maybe- but even if they were capable they certainly wonât try anything. They run from fights more often than they actually ever hurt anyone.>
Hey, you watch yourself, Orion is great. Heâs just fucked up in the head. She probably manipulated him into it somehow..
⢠Guest frowns at their threat, crossing his arms and giving them a defiant look.
âŚhe would not win in a fight against them. But they donât need to know that.
And Iâm sure I can take you just fine.
I donât even know who Orion is. Whatever. HA! No you canât. I could beat your ass even with one leg. Or you could drop it, sweetheart.
<thereâs a venomous sweetness to their nickname of endearment.>
Pfft, as if I would. That would make me a coward, and I am nothing like you.
⢠He reciprocated their tone, leaning forward to poke their chest with a smug grin.
Wimp.
I ainât a goddamn coward!
<they hiss, grabbing his jaw with one hand on an impulse. Itâs mildly threatening, though it likely isnât intended to be. Itâs not really intended to be anything at all. Theyâd done it without a thought.>
Shut the hell up, you nosy bitch!
⢠His eyes had widened in shock at first, shocked by the audacityâ he hadnât expected them to actually act outâ but then he just burst out laughing. Just straight up hooting and hollering in their face.
Oh man- oh, Artie, the man you are.
⢠He tugged at their wrist, attempting to get their hand off.
Truly, you are something else. So defensive over the smallest of things. It almost makes me want to insult you again.
<they let him go with a grimace. Not because he tugged at their wrist, no, more because they fingers are getting tired of holding his face so tightly.>
Can you shut up for three seconds? Youâre givinâ me a headache. You think youâre real clever, but really youâre dumb as a rock. âCause why would you insult someone who can beat you senseless?
Whatâs your problem? What the hellâd I do??
Oh please. You wish you could beat me. I know you wouldnât dare.
⢠To respond to their other question, Guest just shrugs.
And, what can I say? You get mad so easily, itâs hard to not tease you for it.
Fuckinâ test me, why donât you? I can prove you wrong if youâd really like!
<they grab the front of his shirt as if to prove their point. They can hurt him, they swear they can. They know they can. They also know heâs right. Theyâd never really, truly hurt him. Maybe rough him up a bit if they get too frustrated, but theyâd never seriously harm him.>
I do not. I donât get mad easy. Youâre jusâ- you jusâ know how t- youâre jusâ enough of an asshole that I get kinda ticked off.
Oh sure, kinda ticked off, yet youâre yelling at me. Youâre not very good at lying.
Hmm. Fine, square up, Artie.
Fine! I will.
<they stand to their full height, a good few inches taller than him, fists clenched. Theyâd really rather not do anything, but if heâs egging them onâŚ.>
Iâm gonna rock your fuckinâ shit you- you.. <they search for insults but evidently they give up, by their awkward silence.>
⢠Guest doesnât even move, not doing much but smirking at them. He just stood there. As if he wanted them to beat him up.
âYouâ what? You canât speak now? Are you scared?
I can speak plenty! âM not fuckinâ scared! Why would I be scared?? You couldnât hurt me if you tried.
<they push him back as a threat, though in all reality itâs quite gentle. They hope they can intimidate him into leaving. A fight won without⌠any fighting.>
⢠To the surprise of no one or maybe a few, Guest stumbles back a few steps, but his expression remains the same.
You donât know that because you havenât tried me yet. What even was that, a mere preschool taunt? Come at me.
<they slam him back against the wall roughly, glaring at him through narrowed eyes. One fist finds its way to his stomach very quickly, and again and again, though they move away from him either a huff after a moment.>
Why the hell donât you fight back?? Are you scared?
<a triumphant and rather cocky grin follows>
⢠Guestâs smile had fell once they had finally, finally attack him, a strangled cough escaping him when they punch him. He leans against the wall, an arm wrapped around his midriff.
Fear? Hah, noâŚno, not fear. Something else..
⢠His face turns red, and he slowly starts to laugh again.
Are you asking me to punch you, or are you just using my tactics? I think Iâm perfectly fine in this position.
Somethinâ else? Like what?
<they give him a disgruntled look, keeping him tucked firmly against the wall, so he canât flee, or move around them. They want to keep the upper ground.>
No, I ainât askinâ you tâ punch me, âs jusâ weird that youâre not.. doinâ anythinâ. Are you some kinda masochist, or jusâ a pussy?
Well, I donât have a pussy, so I guess Iâm a masochist!
⢠He moved to lay his hands on their shoulders, pulling them closer.
You truly have no idea the kind of things you do to me. Havenât we had a discussion about this before?
well you donât have tâ have one, tâ be one- anâ- oohâŚ. Seriously?
<their face goes pink, embarrassed and perhaps mildly flustered. Where the hell is he going with this? He really is a masochist! Heâs getting off on them pushing him around! Their nose scrunches up at him, eyebrows drawn together in something between disgust and amusement.>
I donât- âscuse me??? I donât know? Youâre- youâre some special kinda freak, ainât you? Ahhaha!
Hah! Donât laugh at me as if you arenât one too.
⢠Guest trails his hand down to their chest, as if emphasizing his words.
The way youâre pinning me down really says a lot about you.
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Artie, you absolute wimp, why do you keep letting that odd woman bother you?
-@theominousguest
I ainât a wimp. Youâre a wimp. Ha! <oooh, they really got him there..> Anâ umm.. <they pause, considering.> how âbout you take your nose outta my business anâ shove it up your ass instead?
âŚseriously?
⢠At their sudden outburst, or short tantrum, Guest laughs. Mocking them.
One, that wasnât clever; two, that isnât possible; and three, youâre kinda proving my point. What are you so butthurt about?
Very seriously, yeah. That was very clever, you can do anything you set your mind to, anâ how am I provinâ your point?? Callinâ you nosy- âcause you are- does not make me a wimp.
Iâm not butthurt! Iâll make your- never mind. Hhaha⌠<they giggle to themself awkwardly, reddening slightly at their own miscalculation of words.>
Hah. You better be careful, I might enjoy it.
Also, Iâm calling you a wimp because you went straight to insults instead of answering my question. My point is that youâre cowering from on odd freak-show of a woman and doing nothing at all to stop her.
So, youâre still a wimp.
Good, maybe thatâs what- thatâs what I want! SssoâŚ.. uh there! <theyâre losing the thread. This is no longer a threat.>
Well, I only did that âcause you called me a wimp! Anâ if you think itâs so easy tâ make her go away Iâd absolutely love tâ see you try. I have tried it jusâ didnât work, dipshit. She doesnât listen.
Anâ Iâm not a goddamn wimp.
You know she has a husband now? You know you can communicate with the husband to get her to stop? Or talk about it with her like a man?
But whatever, if youâre too scared to do it, Iâll handle it myself. Mâkay? Twinkie.
I feel youâre not hearing me. Can you hear me?? <they snap their fingers at him for emphasis.>
I have talked tâ her. âLike a manâ. Iâve told her tâ fuck off, anâ that I hate her anâ why anâ⌠whatever.. she jusâ doesnât listen!! Her husbandâs probably as bad as her if heâs willingly married her.
I ainât scared anâ I ainât a goddamn âtwinkâ either. I bet I could f- I could take you out if I wanted!
<theyâre bluffing. They might be able to- maybe- but even if they were capable they certainly wonât try anything. They run from fights more often than they actually ever hurt anyone.>
Hey, you watch yourself, Orion is great. Heâs just fucked up in the head. She probably manipulated him into it somehow..
⢠Guest frowns at their threat, crossing his arms and giving them a defiant look.
âŚhe would not win in a fight against them. But they donât need to know that.
And Iâm sure I can take you just fine.
I donât even know who Orion is. Whatever. HA! No you canât. I could beat your ass even with one leg. Or you could drop it, sweetheart.
<thereâs a venomous sweetness to their nickname of endearment.>
Pfft, as if I would. That would make me a coward, and I am nothing like you.
⢠He reciprocated their tone, leaning forward to poke their chest with a smug grin.
Wimp.
I ainât a goddamn coward!
<they hiss, grabbing his jaw with one hand on an impulse. Itâs mildly threatening, though it likely isnât intended to be. Itâs not really intended to be anything at all. Theyâd done it without a thought.>
Shut the hell up, you nosy bitch!
⢠His eyes had widened in shock at first, shocked by the audacityâ he hadnât expected them to actually act outâ but then he just burst out laughing. Just straight up hooting and hollering in their face.
Oh man- oh, Artie, the man you are.
⢠He tugged at their wrist, attempting to get their hand off.
Truly, you are something else. So defensive over the smallest of things. It almost makes me want to insult you again.
<they let him go with a grimace. Not because he tugged at their wrist, no, more because they fingers are getting tired of holding his face so tightly.>
Can you shut up for three seconds? Youâre givinâ me a headache. You think youâre real clever, but really youâre dumb as a rock. âCause why would you insult someone who can beat you senseless?
Whatâs your problem? What the hellâd I do??
Oh please. You wish you could beat me. I know you wouldnât dare.
⢠To respond to their other question, Guest just shrugs.
And, what can I say? You get mad so easily, itâs hard to not tease you for it.
Fuckinâ test me, why donât you? I can prove you wrong if youâd really like!
<they grab the front of his shirt as if to prove their point. They can hurt him, they swear they can. They know they can. They also know heâs right. Theyâd never really, truly hurt him. Maybe rough him up a bit if they get too frustrated, but theyâd never seriously harm him.>
I do not. I donât get mad easy. Youâre jusâ- you jusâ know how t- youâre jusâ enough of an asshole that I get kinda ticked off.
Oh sure, kinda ticked off, yet youâre yelling at me. Youâre not very good at lying.
Hmm. Fine, square up, Artie.
Fine! I will.
<they stand to their full height, a good few inches taller than him, fists clenched. Theyâd really rather not do anything, but if heâs egging them onâŚ.>
Iâm gonna rock your fuckinâ shit you- you.. <they search for insults but evidently they give up, by their awkward silence.>
⢠Guest doesnât even move, not doing much but smirking at them. He just stood there. As if he wanted them to beat him up.
âYouâ what? You canât speak now? Are you scared?
I can speak plenty! âM not fuckinâ scared! Why would I be scared?? You couldnât hurt me if you tried.
<they push him back as a threat, though in all reality itâs quite gentle. They hope they can intimidate him into leaving. A fight won without⌠any fighting.>
⢠To the surprise of no one or maybe a few, Guest stumbles back a few steps, but his expression remains the same.
You donât know that because you havenât tried me yet. What even was that, a mere preschool taunt? Come at me.
<they slam him back against the wall roughly, glaring at him through narrowed eyes. One fist finds its way to his stomach very quickly, and again and again, though they move away from him either a huff after a moment.>
Why the hell donât you fight back?? Are you scared?
<a triumphant and rather cocky grin follows>
⢠Guestâs smile had fell once they had finally, finally attack him, a strangled cough escaping him when they punch him. He leans against the wall, an arm wrapped around his midriff.
Fear? Hah, noâŚno, not fear. Something else..
⢠His face turns red, and he slowly starts to laugh again.
Are you asking me to punch you, or are you just using my tactics? I think Iâm perfectly fine in this position.
Somethinâ else? Like what?
<they give him a disgruntled look, keeping him tucked firmly against the wall, so he canât flee, or move around them. They want to keep the upper ground.>
No, I ainât askinâ you tâ punch me, âs jusâ weird that youâre not.. doinâ anythinâ. Are you some kinda masochist, or jusâ a pussy?
Well, I donât have a pussy, so I guess Iâm a masochist!
⢠He moved to lay his hands on their shoulders, pulling them closer.
You truly have no idea the kind of things you do to me. Havenât we had a discussion about this before?
Artie, you absolute wimp, why do you keep letting that odd woman bother you?
-@theominousguest
I ainât a wimp. Youâre a wimp. Ha! <oooh, they really got him there..> Anâ umm.. <they pause, considering.> how âbout you take your nose outta my business anâ shove it up your ass instead?
âŚseriously?
⢠At their sudden outburst, or short tantrum, Guest laughs. Mocking them.
One, that wasnât clever; two, that isnât possible; and three, youâre kinda proving my point. What are you so butthurt about?
Very seriously, yeah. That was very clever, you can do anything you set your mind to, anâ how am I provinâ your point?? Callinâ you nosy- âcause you are- does not make me a wimp.
Iâm not butthurt! Iâll make your- never mind. Hhaha⌠<they giggle to themself awkwardly, reddening slightly at their own miscalculation of words.>
Hah. You better be careful, I might enjoy it.
Also, Iâm calling you a wimp because you went straight to insults instead of answering my question. My point is that youâre cowering from on odd freak-show of a woman and doing nothing at all to stop her.
So, youâre still a wimp.
Good, maybe thatâs what- thatâs what I want! SssoâŚ.. uh there! <theyâre losing the thread. This is no longer a threat.>
Well, I only did that âcause you called me a wimp! Anâ if you think itâs so easy tâ make her go away Iâd absolutely love tâ see you try. I have tried it jusâ didnât work, dipshit. She doesnât listen.
Anâ Iâm not a goddamn wimp.
You know she has a husband now? You know you can communicate with the husband to get her to stop? Or talk about it with her like a man?
But whatever, if youâre too scared to do it, Iâll handle it myself. Mâkay? Twinkie.
I feel youâre not hearing me. Can you hear me?? <they snap their fingers at him for emphasis.>
I have talked tâ her. âLike a manâ. Iâve told her tâ fuck off, anâ that I hate her anâ why anâ⌠whatever.. she jusâ doesnât listen!! Her husbandâs probably as bad as her if heâs willingly married her.
I ainât scared anâ I ainât a goddamn âtwinkâ either. I bet I could f- I could take you out if I wanted!
<theyâre bluffing. They might be able to- maybe- but even if they were capable they certainly wonât try anything. They run from fights more often than they actually ever hurt anyone.>
Hey, you watch yourself, Orion is great. Heâs just fucked up in the head. She probably manipulated him into it somehow..
⢠Guest frowns at their threat, crossing his arms and giving them a defiant look.
âŚhe would not win in a fight against them. But they donât need to know that.
And Iâm sure I can take you just fine.
I donât even know who Orion is. Whatever. HA! No you canât. I could beat your ass even with one leg. Or you could drop it, sweetheart.
<thereâs a venomous sweetness to their nickname of endearment.>
Pfft, as if I would. That would make me a coward, and I am nothing like you.
⢠He reciprocated their tone, leaning forward to poke their chest with a smug grin.
Wimp.
I ainât a goddamn coward!
<they hiss, grabbing his jaw with one hand on an impulse. Itâs mildly threatening, though it likely isnât intended to be. Itâs not really intended to be anything at all. Theyâd done it without a thought.>
Shut the hell up, you nosy bitch!
⢠His eyes had widened in shock at first, shocked by the audacityâ he hadnât expected them to actually act outâ but then he just burst out laughing. Just straight up hooting and hollering in their face.
Oh man- oh, Artie, the man you are.
⢠He tugged at their wrist, attempting to get their hand off.
Truly, you are something else. So defensive over the smallest of things. It almost makes me want to insult you again.
<they let him go with a grimace. Not because he tugged at their wrist, no, more because they fingers are getting tired of holding his face so tightly.>
Can you shut up for three seconds? Youâre givinâ me a headache. You think youâre real clever, but really youâre dumb as a rock. âCause why would you insult someone who can beat you senseless?
Whatâs your problem? What the hellâd I do??
Oh please. You wish you could beat me. I know you wouldnât dare.
⢠To respond to their other question, Guest just shrugs.
And, what can I say? You get mad so easily, itâs hard to not tease you for it.
Fuckinâ test me, why donât you? I can prove you wrong if youâd really like!
<they grab the front of his shirt as if to prove their point. They can hurt him, they swear they can. They know they can. They also know heâs right. Theyâd never really, truly hurt him. Maybe rough him up a bit if they get too frustrated, but theyâd never seriously harm him.>
I do not. I donât get mad easy. Youâre jusâ- you jusâ know how t- youâre jusâ enough of an asshole that I get kinda ticked off.
Oh sure, kinda ticked off, yet youâre yelling at me. Youâre not very good at lying.
Hmm. Fine, square up, Artie.
Fine! I will.
<they stand to their full height, a good few inches taller than him, fists clenched. Theyâd really rather not do anything, but if heâs egging them onâŚ.>
Iâm gonna rock your fuckinâ shit you- you.. <they search for insults but evidently they give up, by their awkward silence.>
⢠Guest doesnât even move, not doing much but smirking at them. He just stood there. As if he wanted them to beat him up.
âYouâ what? You canât speak now? Are you scared?
I can speak plenty! âM not fuckinâ scared! Why would I be scared?? You couldnât hurt me if you tried.
<they push him back as a threat, though in all reality itâs quite gentle. They hope they can intimidate him into leaving. A fight won without⌠any fighting.>
⢠To the surprise of no one or maybe a few, Guest stumbles back a few steps, but his expression remains the same.
You donât know that because you havenât tried me yet. What even was that, a mere preschool taunt? Come at me.
<they slam him back against the wall roughly, glaring at him through narrowed eyes. One fist finds its way to his stomach very quickly, and again and again, though they move away from him either a huff after a moment.>
Why the hell donât you fight back?? Are you scared?
<a triumphant and rather cocky grin follows>
⢠Guestâs smile had fell once they had finally, finally attack him, a strangled cough escaping him when they punch him. He leans against the wall, an arm wrapped around his midriff.
Fear? Hah, noâŚno, not fear. Something else..
⢠His face turns red, and he slowly starts to laugh again.
Are you asking me to punch you, or are you just using my tactics? I think Iâm perfectly fine in this position.
