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paixaorpg2006-07-07 01:26 am
gamblingfate.livejournal.com) wrote in paixaorpg2006-07-07 01:26 am
Entry tags:
Demon's Party [Active]
Character(s): Luxord, Zexion, Marluxia
Content: Luxord, Zexion, and Marluxia being bitchfaces, basically.
Setting: Joutenhiem Gate
Time: Monday, Afternoon
Warnings: Bitching and swearing.
"No, I don't like the look of that one - too… sensitive looking. With a piteous heart like that, the annoying creature will never survive here for long." A cruel smile grew on his face, and he turned to regard the other, and rather put off, Nobody. "Want to bet on how long they'll last?"
Left leg crossed under the other and right heel incessantly bouncing off the wall with an audible thump each time, Number Ten sat perched on top of the information booth for their assigned gate, fiddling his thumbs absentmindedly while glancing at the newcomers below. He had been doing this non-stop for the past thirty minutes, insisting that they should examine what they had to work with. The wagers on their life spans just came naturally.
Actually, it was not as if Luxord really cared what came through the gate, considering his lack of enthusiasm to get any work done. Even if a pink, three-headed dragon with a servere case of MPD charged through with a sombrero and tossed burritos-bombs to local civilians, the scene would not gain his interest in the least. No, this was all an attempt to make his aggravating "friend" get some sun on his alarmingly pale complexion.
Even looking at the man hurt his eyes. It was almost like staring at snow on a sunny morning - blinding and caused your will to break in five different places.
"You know, the odds are really against you being killed for leaving that abomination-hole you refer to as a research lab." While saying this, he made sure to kick the side of the booth a few more times, enjoying the repetitive "thunk"s and "clunk"s the leather of his boot made against the metal wall. "I don't really see while you insist on staying in that hive."
Content: Luxord, Zexion, and Marluxia being bitchfaces, basically.
Setting: Joutenhiem Gate
Time: Monday, Afternoon
Warnings: Bitching and swearing.
"No, I don't like the look of that one - too… sensitive looking. With a piteous heart like that, the annoying creature will never survive here for long." A cruel smile grew on his face, and he turned to regard the other, and rather put off, Nobody. "Want to bet on how long they'll last?"
Left leg crossed under the other and right heel incessantly bouncing off the wall with an audible thump each time, Number Ten sat perched on top of the information booth for their assigned gate, fiddling his thumbs absentmindedly while glancing at the newcomers below. He had been doing this non-stop for the past thirty minutes, insisting that they should examine what they had to work with. The wagers on their life spans just came naturally.
Actually, it was not as if Luxord really cared what came through the gate, considering his lack of enthusiasm to get any work done. Even if a pink, three-headed dragon with a servere case of MPD charged through with a sombrero and tossed burritos-bombs to local civilians, the scene would not gain his interest in the least. No, this was all an attempt to make his aggravating "friend" get some sun on his alarmingly pale complexion.
Even looking at the man hurt his eyes. It was almost like staring at snow on a sunny morning - blinding and caused your will to break in five different places.
"You know, the odds are really against you being killed for leaving that abomination-hole you refer to as a research lab." While saying this, he made sure to kick the side of the booth a few more times, enjoying the repetitive "thunk"s and "clunk"s the leather of his boot made against the metal wall. "I don't really see while you insist on staying in that hive."
no subject
His smile almost turned into a snarl the second the other man grabbed his ankle, but, after quickly reminding his subconscious that
he was indeed not Saïxcontrol was a key factor in his profession and it would not broken on someone as humorless and staid as Zexion, his mood went back to the habitual amused state that was ever so annoying to everyone else.Still, he entertained the thought of forcefully beating the smaller man in the back of the head with the heel of his boot. Then again, Zexion did make good with his word, if a certain invisible syringe in his bed taught him something.
Whistling to spite the other member would just have to do.