scribeprint decrepit @seichtartikel - Tumblr Blog

‘Ah…’ Here’s a sound of acknowledgement. Not only is it a sound of acknowledgement, but at the same time, he’s managed to create a suspenseful pause…

Which gives him time to lean forward in the bed and stretch, planting a firm hand on his boy’s chest to keep him from coming any closer.

Also, he sounds kind of disappointed. Like, really?, that “ah” said, Is that all you’ve got for me? ‘cause you’re coming across pretty weak here.

He is, in fact, a master of expressing himself through a single sound. With his kid, at least.

And his kid is NOT coming in his bed. Not until he’s made a little more of an effort.

He lets another suspenseful pause come through, leaning forward like he means to say something…

But after that pause, he just bears his weight forward again, pushing his son back as far as he’ll go.

‘Scary. Totally shitting my pants right now, kid.’ He sighs and settles back into the three pillows he’s got propped up against the headboard, sending his sprog a meaningfully sarcastic look. It’s kind of pitying, in its own way. This is what he spawned? Really?

‘Can you at least, like, get one of the kitchen knives or something to make it look a little more convincing? Go ahead. I - will - wait.’ He crosses his feet for dramatic effect, rocking his right heel back and forth just to show off his willingness. He’s happy to cooperate!

Just give him anything besides that.

But clearly, this is too much to ask of his son. The kid’s got as much intimidation in him as one of his pets does during mating season.

He sighs. Again. He’s laying it on a bit thick, buuuut…

He has no son.

‘If you think this is intimidating, I have no son.’ He kicks one of his legs up, a partial concession to the idea of allowing his kid entry.

‘You put your rats up and everything for the night, right? No unwanted pregnancies we’ll have to worry about in the morning? “We” being “you”, of course.’

seichtartikel

' Fair enough. Intimidating, not so much what I was going for.Let's be honest here, if that was my necessary admission you wouldn't have heard anything of it.

- Called it, actually, you should give me some credit. These late hours do you in good, make you such a louse. Here's the important thing: I got in.' He didn't, really, but it's a small victory for him nonetheless that his dad is fed up with whatever. For once, he doesn't seem to be the issue, and that's as any reason enough to be glad.

Whether that was truly a permit for entry or not, he doesn't care. It's adequate alright, for him to shove his way in and buckle down on dragging enough sheets across both of them. 'I don't see why you put yourself under that kind of stress.

Worry kills a man, and a high achiever like you well, it'll just kill that kind of man faster.' He takes a short breath in and bumps shoulders with his father.

'Though sure, I'll come up with something better next time.

Sounds like that makes the both of us, feeling rather fried. What's got you, old man?'

'You see this,' He steps in. 'This is me not respecting your curfew.

See how that feels. Do you get it now, padre? See who's in charge? you haven't got that type of power.'

Master bedroom or not, this particular rebel wasn't dressed for his all talk rebellion, not exactly. He'd been in his pajamas for the past two hours, it was just.

He needed a little change of scenery. 'And this is me invading.' He tuts his tongue while lifting the thin layer and starts to shuffle on in next to his dad.

'Tough.' He thinks he's done okay.

letdown-city

Couldn’t be right, could it?

Couldn’t be on that this thing was gracing him with its - his, on a look - presence. - Another look spells him as exciting, and another, other look spells the guess as about right.

He’s being talked to.

Fun.

‘That would be variable. It would vary on - whether you’re trying to pick me up, chat me up to steal my things, or if you feel a need to make small talk with everyone who approaches a certain proximity with you.

Or if you’re bored, but—

Majority answer is “no.” I’m not.’

He turns to face the younger man fully, slapping on a smile that could’ve screamed “Customer service” if their situation were different. As it is, it’s just creepy. He raises his hand just slightly in greeting.

‘What can I do for you?

Or what can you do for me. Your choice.’

seichtartikel

'Oh, so I'm the majority. -' He remarks off-handedly, but it doesn't sound like he's taken an ounce of offense and it's noncommittal, of course it is.

But for the moment, lo' and behold, the involuntary company in front of him has stunned him for a grand total of - - ten seconds, and counting. He snaps out of it, give or take a few more moments to compose himself and it's clear to himself -- spelled out across his face, in fact.

He would prolong this company for as long as he's granted it.

Except, his expression is anything but friendly. His own, that is. He doesn't have much control over what it does, his face - but while his gaze is stuck on the elder's he studies the man hard for a good, long time.

Thank goodness his hands are shoved in his pockets, shouldn't they have been occupied he ...might his have set his thumbs on twiddling. That was always a good sign.

Good sign, yes.

It's almost as if he's forgotten that the man's there at all, head bowed and staring at his own shoes. 'Not a thief though, I like making what I need to do.' He lifts his chin suddenly, and a grin swipes its way over his features. Just about a carbon copy of the man in front of him, only ...five notches more eccentric. Call it a competition, that would pass as creepy. '- This way?' He points, and the grin's short-lived -- faded to a neutral smile. 'Mister's not in a rush, then I want to show-and-tell.

Mr. got a name?'

The gentleman didn't look particularly lost, but there was a curious air to him that kept him from walking ahead, walking past the man who reeked 'dignified' from a truly unknowing perspective. More than likely, he'd never see this man again.

Worth a try, worth it. Or so he thought. '-- D'you know where you're headed, sir? Don't need any help, do you.' The way his tone fell flat was careless on his part, but it didn't say much. Then comes his second ulterior motive, (not much of one in the first place), right off the bat. '-- Are you in a rush.'

Again, not very ...ulterior anymore.

#letdown city