[ Hey, where’s she going? She’s moving away just a little, and yes, yes indeed he’s going to follow, shifting slowly and then burying his face in the pillow for a moment, a nice good moment before looking up at her again. Can’t get away that easy, kid. Nope.
Because wow, wow, what are these accusations? What are these… Okay, yeah he’s making a face a very sour very ‘no why would you’ face, and now he’s pointing up at her, a little unsteady, but it should do the job. ]
Okay, okay, let’s get a few things straight.
One. Can’t fall into the sensible sedan trap if you don’t have a license.
[ BOOM. Too deviant for any kind of car! ]
Two, pretty sure I was banned from all golfing for life.
[ Maybe not all golfing. Maybe just golfing at that one course his brothers thought it’d be funny to take him to. It’d been a bright summer day, and yes he’d had a few drinks before and yes his brothers had faux-grudgingly allowed him to bring along more booze. He was sweating and it was too fucking hot and why had he insisted on wearing black just all black oh right, because he’s an asshole no wait sorry a deviant.
In the end, he’d broken a golf club, broken a golf cart, cursed out half a dozen golfers for daring to tread over his golf hole. Took a pretend nap in the middle of a green. Thought he lost a ring and spent half an hour plumbing the creek for it - occasionally chucking golf balls at passing fuckos’ heads - before realizing he’d stuck the thing in his pocket to keep it safe from golf traps. He spent some time lurking in the trees, snatching up freshly-hit balls. And… Other things. He doesn’t really remember. He isn’t interested in asking his brothers for details.
That was, what, time number seven, twelve Treavor should have been arrested? The twins had paid off any complaints, all scowls and lectures, but they must have known what would happen. Must have known, and banked on the afternoon’s entertainment.
Anyway, he never went golfing again. What a pointless fucking pastime. ]
Also, Wallace wouldn’t lie. You’ve seen his face; is that the face of a liar?
[ He’s going to revisit a point he’s made before - something about rings as a sign of deviance - but there’s a thought, a crashing thought, immediate and catching him off-guard. ]
Shit. Oh, shit. I gave up my pinky ring.
[ He looks a little devastated. Yes, that ring went to a good cause a very good cause but. But. What is a deviant without his most deviant ring??? ]
no subject
Because wow, wow, what are these accusations? What are these… Okay, yeah he’s making a face a very sour very ‘no why would you’ face, and now he’s pointing up at her, a little unsteady, but it should do the job. ]
Okay, okay, let’s get a few things straight.
One. Can’t fall into the sensible sedan trap if you don’t have a license.
[ BOOM. Too deviant for any kind of car! ]
Two, pretty sure I was banned from all golfing for life.
[ Maybe not all golfing. Maybe just golfing at that one course his brothers thought it’d be funny to take him to. It’d been a bright summer day, and yes he’d had a few drinks before and yes his brothers had faux-grudgingly allowed him to bring along more booze. He was sweating and it was too fucking hot and why had he insisted on wearing black just all black oh right, because he’s an asshole no wait sorry a deviant.
In the end, he’d broken a golf club, broken a golf cart, cursed out half a dozen golfers for daring to tread over his golf hole. Took a pretend nap in the middle of a green. Thought he lost a ring and spent half an hour plumbing the creek for it - occasionally chucking golf balls at passing fuckos’ heads - before realizing he’d stuck the thing in his pocket to keep it safe from golf traps. He spent some time lurking in the trees, snatching up freshly-hit balls. And… Other things. He doesn’t really remember. He isn’t interested in asking his brothers for details.
That was, what, time number seven, twelve Treavor should have been arrested? The twins had paid off any complaints, all scowls and lectures, but they must have known what would happen. Must have known, and banked on the afternoon’s entertainment.
Anyway, he never went golfing again. What a pointless fucking pastime. ]
Also, Wallace wouldn’t lie. You’ve seen his face; is that the face of a liar?
[ He’s going to revisit a point he’s made before - something about rings as a sign of deviance - but there’s a thought, a crashing thought, immediate and catching him off-guard. ]
Shit. Oh, shit. I gave up my pinky ring.
[ He looks a little devastated. Yes, that ring went to a good cause a very good cause but. But. What is a deviant without his most deviant ring??? ]