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@theominousguest
“Testing….
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 answering…but I am learning to open up more. I will try my best to give satisfactory feedback.
Signing out.”
Ooc undercut; (It is a bit short, but I’d really appreciate if you read it!)
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 he’s not that much against PDA, he “has a reputation to uphold”. 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).
“ hi. 🥺”
-The chef!! 🥩 ( @the-chefs-cleaver )
(Enjoy…😎😎😎)
😳
“Uhm…hello! So nice to meet you, whoever you are. Who are you, exactly?”
“Oh yeah sorry! I work in the school’s cafeteria. (Ooc; I’m guessing your guy is in the school?) The names David!.. some people just call me the chef or Mr. D!.. and uhm.. you are?”
The chef would put out his hand to shake, it being covered by a glove that he then took off with a small ‘sorry’. The man would have a large, rough-textured hand.
|| he doesn’t, exactly, but he lingers around sometimes!
• Guest gladly took the man’s hand, shaking it, his touch lasting for a moment too long.
“My name is…unnecessary. People just call me Guest anyway.”
• He crossed his arms, giving the chef an odd look. Most would’ve took it as nervousness…or something.
“So, Mr. D, I’m curious about this school; is it still active? Is there still students here?”
“Ah! Wellll hello Guest!.. mind if I just call you Mr. GT?..”
David would look down at the others hand as it lingered, chuckling a bit, it being in a non malicious way.
“Well.. it IS active though… not really.. filled with students anymore… from what I know it’s basically a safe space in a way.. though there are still some visitors around the area..”
“GT is fine…I 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.
“Visitors, you say? Do they normally reside here? Would you say this place is a visitor nest?”
“I don’t know— I-I hope not.. I just know that they hang around outside… sometimes I gotta scare em off because they try to come inside..”
He would look away, looking upset. He didn’t like the idea of dead people coming back as.. zombies?, monsters..? Who knows.. it all made him shiver, dead people should stay dead.
“I was looking for some place where I could feel safe..- I.. uhm… anyway uhm… what about you?.. what’s it like where you stay???…”
“…big enough to scare them off.. good to know.”
• Guest had no shame, not even trying to be subtle as he wrote about the man’s words. He lifted his head at the question.
“Oh, where I live? It’s quite cozy, actually. Not my house, but at least the people are friendly. Do you not feel comfortable here?”
“A- excuse me???… actually never mind. Anyway, that sounds nice.. it’s always nice to have a place to stay.. I used to live in an apartment complex.. with my kids.. uhm.”
He would look away with a grim(?) expression, picking at his hand before clearing his throat and putting his other glove back on.
“.. I mean the people are nice enough… haven’t really met anyone bad since I came… I stay in the spare classrooms. Mattress on the floor, spare closet with my stuff and that’s mostly it.. there has been a problem with me running out of supplies or my utensil being missing…”
“I don’t know whether to say that sounds good, or to pity you.”
• At the man’s expression, Guest offers a look of worry.
“Your 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?”
“No no.. uhm.. it was FEMA.. rest their souls..”
The chef would take the handkerchief from his uniforms pocket, dapping his eyes before putting it back. He didn’t understand, they were just kids who were scared, not visitors seeking to trick and kill. He wished he didn’t freeze up. He wished he took the bullets instead of them.
“U-uhm.. I mean, I don’t like to accuse people… but utensils don’t 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..?”
“…FEMA took your children too? That’s…that’s.. damn.”
• Guest averts his eyes, looking downward at that. He wasn’t surprised that they did, because, of course they would! They were bastards. All of them.
“Sure, why not? I don’t have anything else to do at the moment. Uh… can I be aware of the ingredients? Safety reasons.”
Artie, you absolute wimp, why do you keep letting that odd woman bother you?
-@theominousguest
I ain’t a wimp. You’re a wimp. Ha! <oooh, they really got him there..> An’ umm.. <they pause, considering.> how ‘bout you take your nose outta my business an’ shove it up your ass instead?
…seriously?
• At their sudden outburst, or short tantrum, Guest laughs. Mocking them.
One, that wasn’t clever; two, that isn’t possible; and three, you’re 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, an’ how am I provin’ your point?? Callin’ you nosy- ‘cause you are- does not make me a wimp.
I’m not butthurt! I’ll 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, I’m calling you a wimp because you went straight to insults instead of answering my question. My point is that you’re cowering from on odd freak-show of a woman and doing nothing at all to stop her.
So, you’re still a wimp.
Good, maybe that’s what- that’s what I want! Ssso….. uh there! <they’re losing the thread. This is no longer a threat.>
Well, I only did that ‘cause you called me a wimp! An’ if you think it’s so easy t’ make her go away I’d absolutely love t’ see you try. I have tried it jus’ didn’t work, dipshit. She doesn’t listen.
An’ I’m 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 you’re too scared to do it, I’ll handle it myself. M’kay? Twinkie.
I feel you’re not hearing me. Can you hear me?? <they snap their fingers at him for emphasis.>
I have talked t’ her. “Like a man”. I’ve told her t’ fuck off, an’ that I hate her an’ why an’… whatever.. she jus’ doesn’t listen!! Her husband’s probably as bad as her if he’s willingly married her.
I ain’t scared an’ I ain’t a goddamn “twink” either. I bet I could f- I could take you out if I wanted!
<they’re bluffing. They might be able to- maybe- but even if they were capable they certainly won’t try anything. They run from fights more often than they actually ever hurt anyone.>
Hey, you watch yourself, Orion is great. He’s 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.
…he would not win in a fight against them. But they don’t need to know that.
And I’m sure I can take you just fine.
I don’t even know who Orion is. Whatever. HA! No you can’t. I could beat your ass even with one leg. Or you could drop it, sweetheart.
<there’s 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 ain’t a goddamn coward!
<they hiss, grabbing his jaw with one hand on an impulse. It’s mildly threatening, though it likely isn’t intended to be. It’s not really intended to be anything at all. They’d done it without a thought.>
Shut the hell up, you nosy bitch!
• His eyes had widened in shock at first, shocked by the audacity– he hadn’t expected them to actually act out– 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? You’re givin’ me a headache. You think you’re real clever, but really you’re dumb as a rock. ‘Cause why would you insult someone who can beat you senseless?
What’s your problem? What the hell’d I do??
Oh please. You wish you could beat me. I know you wouldn’t dare.
• To respond to their other question, Guest just shrugs.
And, what can I say? You get mad so easily, it’s hard to not tease you for it.
Fuckin’ test me, why don’t you? I can prove you wrong if you’d 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 he’s right. They’d never really, truly hurt him. Maybe rough him up a bit if they get too frustrated, but they’d never seriously harm him.>
I do not. I don’t get mad easy. You’re jus’- you jus’ know how t- you’re jus’ enough of an asshole that I get kinda ticked off.
Oh sure, kinda ticked off, yet you’re yelling at me. You’re 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. They’d really rather not do anything, but if he’s egging them on….>
I’m gonna rock your fuckin’ shit you- you.. <they search for insults but evidently they give up, by their awkward silence.>
• Guest doesn’t even move, not doing much but smirking at them. He just stood there. As if he wanted them to beat him up.
“You” what? You can’t speak now? Are you scared?
I can speak plenty! ‘M not fuckin’ scared! Why would I be scared?? You couldn’t hurt me if you tried.
<they push him back as a threat, though in all reality it’s 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 don’t know that because you haven’t 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 don’t you fight back?? Are you scared?
<a triumphant and rather cocky grin follows>
• Guest’s 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, no…no, 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 I’m perfectly fine in this position.
Somethin’ else? Like what?
<they give him a disgruntled look, keeping him tucked firmly against the wall, so he can’t flee, or move around them. They want to keep the upper ground.>
No, I ain’t askin’ you t’ punch me, ‘s jus’ weird that you’re not.. doin’ anythin’. Are you some kinda masochist, or jus’ a pussy?
Well, I don’t have a pussy, so I guess I’m 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. Haven’t we had a discussion about this before?
well you don’t have t’ have one, t’ be one- an’- ooh…. Seriously?
<their face goes pink, embarrassed and perhaps mildly flustered. Where the hell is he going with this? He really is a masochist! He’s getting off on them pushing him around! Their nose scrunches up at him, eyebrows drawn together in something between disgust and amusement.>
I don’t- ‘scuse me??? I don’t know? You’re- you’re some special kinda freak, ain’t you? Ahhaha!
Hah! Don’t laugh at me as if you aren’t one too.
• Guest trails his hand down to their chest, as if emphasizing his words.
The way you’re pinning me down really says a lot about you.
Am not!
<they move their hands away from him, as if they’ve got a point to prove. They however, don’t move away from his hands, or make any moves to stop him. They contemplate continuing their fighting with him, but they figure he’d like that, and since he’s not fighting back, that means they win by default… right? They smile proudly, pleased with themself to have conquered their… foe? They’re not quite sure what he is in relation to them.>
See? I ain’t pinnin’ you- anymore. An’ you’re the one fondlin’ an’ feelin’ me up sooo…
And you’ve still never told me to stop or push me away, not once.
• He snorts at their…stupid.. dumb face, rolling his eyes.
You’re really trying to prove something aren’t you?? It’s not working.
I can if you’d 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, don’t do that Artie.
• He manages to interlock their fingers with his, giving a smug grin.
You’ll hurt my feelings. Do you want to hurt my feelings?
Yes. …no. I don’t know! I’ll do what I like, how ‘bout that? You fuckin’ dick..
<they draw his hand back to their chest, eyes much too confused on what they’d like from him. He’d spun them in circles with his teasing, and now they’re quite disoriented- left dizzy and stumbling in their words. Their eyes flit down to his mouth for a moment, scowl deepening, because they don’t like being confused.>
you stop teasin’ me! Asshole!!
Well, why don’t you make me?
<they press their lips to his fast. He’d told them to make him stop, hadn’t he? They’d figure this suffices. They move back away from his face just as quickly as they’d moved in, tired and still-irritable eyes catching his. They can only hope it’d shut him up.>
• Guest just stood in shock for a moment, mouth slightly agape. He hadn’t expected them to actually do that!
Damn, Artie…
• 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 how’d you do it, smartass? Wanna give a demonstration, you touch-starved nerd?
You know I won’t 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?
“ hi. 🥺”
-The chef!! 🥩 ( @the-chefs-cleaver )
(Enjoy…😎😎😎)
😳
“Uhm…hello! So nice to meet you, whoever you are. Who are you, exactly?”
“Oh yeah sorry! I work in the school’s cafeteria. (Ooc; I’m guessing your guy is in the school?) The names David!.. some people just call me the chef or Mr. D!.. and uhm.. you are?”
The chef would put out his hand to shake, it being covered by a glove that he then took off with a small ‘sorry’. The man would have a large, rough-textured hand.
|| he doesn’t, exactly, but he lingers around sometimes!
• Guest gladly took the man’s hand, shaking it, his touch lasting for a moment too long.
“My name is…unnecessary. People just call me Guest anyway.”
• He crossed his arms, giving the chef an odd look. Most would’ve took it as nervousness…or something.
“So, Mr. D, I’m curious about this school; is it still active? Is there still students here?”
“Ah! Wellll hello Guest!.. mind if I just call you Mr. GT?..”
David would look down at the others hand as it lingered, chuckling a bit, it being in a non malicious way.
“Well.. it IS active though… not really.. filled with students anymore… from what I know it’s basically a safe space in a way.. though there are still some visitors around the area..”
“GT is fine…I 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.
“Visitors, you say? Do they normally reside here? Would you say this place is a visitor nest?”
“I don’t know— I-I hope not.. I just know that they hang around outside… sometimes I gotta scare em off because they try to come inside..”
He would look away, looking upset. He didn’t like the idea of dead people coming back as.. zombies?, monsters..? Who knows.. it all made him shiver, dead people should stay dead.
“I was looking for some place where I could feel safe..- I.. uhm… anyway uhm… what about you?.. what’s it like where you stay???…”
“…big enough to scare them off.. good to know.”
• Guest had no shame, not even trying to be subtle as he wrote about the man’s words. He lifted his head at the question.
“Oh, where I live? It’s quite cozy, actually. Not my house, but at least the people are friendly. Do you not feel comfortable here?”
“A- excuse me???… actually never mind. Anyway, that sounds nice.. it’s always nice to have a place to stay.. I used to live in an apartment complex.. with my kids.. uhm.”
He would look away with a grim(?) expression, picking at his hand before clearing his throat and putting his other glove back on.
“.. I mean the people are nice enough… haven’t really met anyone bad since I came… I stay in the spare classrooms. Mattress on the floor, spare closet with my stuff and that’s mostly it.. there has been a problem with me running out of supplies or my utensil being missing…”
“I don’t know whether to say that sounds good, or to pity you.”
• At the man’s expression, Guest offers a look of worry.
“Your 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?”
So, guest, how is your son?
…
….
…..
“Considering the fact that I am most likely past my quota…he’s probably dead. But I don’t know. I don’t know.”
“ hi. 🥺”
-The chef!! 🥩 ( @the-chefs-cleaver )
(Enjoy…😎😎😎)
😳
“Uhm…hello! So nice to meet you, whoever you are. Who are you, exactly?”
“Oh yeah sorry! I work in the school’s cafeteria. (Ooc; I’m guessing your guy is in the school?) The names David!.. some people just call me the chef or Mr. D!.. and uhm.. you are?”
The chef would put out his hand to shake, it being covered by a glove that he then took off with a small ‘sorry’. The man would have a large, rough-textured hand.
|| he doesn’t, exactly, but he lingers around sometimes!
• Guest gladly took the man’s hand, shaking it, his touch lasting for a moment too long.
“My name is…unnecessary. People just call me Guest anyway.”
• He crossed his arms, giving the chef an odd look. Most would’ve took it as nervousness…or something.
“So, Mr. D, I’m curious about this school; is it still active? Is there still students here?”
“Ah! Wellll hello Guest!.. mind if I just call you Mr. GT?..”
David would look down at the others hand as it lingered, chuckling a bit, it being in a non malicious way.
“Well.. it IS active though… not really.. filled with students anymore… from what I know it’s basically a safe space in a way.. though there are still some visitors around the area..”
“GT is fine…I 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.
“Visitors, you say? Do they normally reside here? Would you say this place is a visitor nest?”
“I don’t know— I-I hope not.. I just know that they hang around outside… sometimes I gotta scare em off because they try to come inside..”
He would look away, looking upset. He didn’t like the idea of dead people coming back as.. zombies?, monsters..? Who knows.. it all made him shiver, dead people should stay dead.
“I was looking for some place where I could feel safe..- I.. uhm… anyway uhm… what about you?.. what’s it like where you stay???…”
“…big enough to scare them off.. good to know.”
• Guest had no shame, not even trying to be subtle as he wrote about the man’s words. He lifted his head at the question.
“Oh, where I live? It’s quite cozy, actually. Not my house, but at least the people are friendly. Do you not feel comfortable here?”
Artie, you absolute wimp, why do you keep letting that odd woman bother you?
-@theominousguest
I ain’t a wimp. You’re a wimp. Ha! <oooh, they really got him there..> An’ umm.. <they pause, considering.> how ‘bout you take your nose outta my business an’ shove it up your ass instead?
…seriously?
• At their sudden outburst, or short tantrum, Guest laughs. Mocking them.
One, that wasn’t clever; two, that isn’t possible; and three, you’re 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, an’ how am I provin’ your point?? Callin’ you nosy- ‘cause you are- does not make me a wimp.
I’m not butthurt! I’ll 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, I’m calling you a wimp because you went straight to insults instead of answering my question. My point is that you’re cowering from on odd freak-show of a woman and doing nothing at all to stop her.
So, you’re still a wimp.
Good, maybe that’s what- that’s what I want! Ssso….. uh there! <they’re losing the thread. This is no longer a threat.>
Well, I only did that ‘cause you called me a wimp! An’ if you think it’s so easy t’ make her go away I’d absolutely love t’ see you try. I have tried it jus’ didn’t work, dipshit. She doesn’t listen.
An’ I’m 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 you’re too scared to do it, I’ll handle it myself. M’kay? Twinkie.
I feel you’re not hearing me. Can you hear me?? <they snap their fingers at him for emphasis.>
I have talked t’ her. “Like a man”. I’ve told her t’ fuck off, an’ that I hate her an’ why an’… whatever.. she jus’ doesn’t listen!! Her husband’s probably as bad as her if he’s willingly married her.
I ain’t scared an’ I ain’t a goddamn “twink” either. I bet I could f- I could take you out if I wanted!
<they’re bluffing. They might be able to- maybe- but even if they were capable they certainly won’t try anything. They run from fights more often than they actually ever hurt anyone.>
Hey, you watch yourself, Orion is great. He’s 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.
…he would not win in a fight against them. But they don’t need to know that.
And I’m sure I can take you just fine.
I don’t even know who Orion is. Whatever. HA! No you can’t. I could beat your ass even with one leg. Or you could drop it, sweetheart.
<there’s 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 ain’t a goddamn coward!
<they hiss, grabbing his jaw with one hand on an impulse. It’s mildly threatening, though it likely isn’t intended to be. It’s not really intended to be anything at all. They’d done it without a thought.>
Shut the hell up, you nosy bitch!
• His eyes had widened in shock at first, shocked by the audacity– he hadn’t expected them to actually act out– 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? You’re givin’ me a headache. You think you’re real clever, but really you’re dumb as a rock. ‘Cause why would you insult someone who can beat you senseless?
What’s your problem? What the hell’d I do??
Oh please. You wish you could beat me. I know you wouldn’t dare.
• To respond to their other question, Guest just shrugs.
And, what can I say? You get mad so easily, it’s hard to not tease you for it.
Fuckin’ test me, why don’t you? I can prove you wrong if you’d 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 he’s right. They’d never really, truly hurt him. Maybe rough him up a bit if they get too frustrated, but they’d never seriously harm him.>
I do not. I don’t get mad easy. You’re jus’- you jus’ know how t- you’re jus’ enough of an asshole that I get kinda ticked off.
Oh sure, kinda ticked off, yet you’re yelling at me. You’re 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. They’d really rather not do anything, but if he’s egging them on….>
I’m gonna rock your fuckin’ shit you- you.. <they search for insults but evidently they give up, by their awkward silence.>
• Guest doesn’t even move, not doing much but smirking at them. He just stood there. As if he wanted them to beat him up.
“You” what? You can’t speak now? Are you scared?
I can speak plenty! ‘M not fuckin’ scared! Why would I be scared?? You couldn’t hurt me if you tried.
<they push him back as a threat, though in all reality it’s 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 don’t know that because you haven’t 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 don’t you fight back?? Are you scared?
<a triumphant and rather cocky grin follows>
• Guest’s 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, no…no, 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 I’m perfectly fine in this position.
Somethin’ else? Like what?
<they give him a disgruntled look, keeping him tucked firmly against the wall, so he can’t flee, or move around them. They want to keep the upper ground.>
No, I ain’t askin’ you t’ punch me, ‘s jus’ weird that you’re not.. doin’ anythin’. Are you some kinda masochist, or jus’ a pussy?
Well, I don’t have a pussy, so I guess I’m 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. Haven’t we had a discussion about this before?
well you don’t have t’ have one, t’ be one- an’- ooh…. Seriously?
<their face goes pink, embarrassed and perhaps mildly flustered. Where the hell is he going with this? He really is a masochist! He’s getting off on them pushing him around! Their nose scrunches up at him, eyebrows drawn together in something between disgust and amusement.>
I don’t- ‘scuse me??? I don’t know? You’re- you’re some special kinda freak, ain’t you? Ahhaha!
Hah! Don’t laugh at me as if you aren’t one too.
• Guest trails his hand down to their chest, as if emphasizing his words.
The way you’re pinning me down really says a lot about you.
Am not!
<they move their hands away from him, as if they’ve got a point to prove. They however, don’t move away from his hands, or make any moves to stop him. They contemplate continuing their fighting with him, but they figure he’d like that, and since he’s not fighting back, that means they win by default… right? They smile proudly, pleased with themself to have conquered their… foe? They’re not quite sure what he is in relation to them.>
See? I ain’t pinnin’ you- anymore. An’ you’re the one fondlin’ an’ feelin’ me up sooo…
And you’ve still never told me to stop or push me away, not once.
• He snorts at their…stupid.. dumb face, rolling his eyes.
You’re really trying to prove something aren’t you?? It’s not working.
I can if you’d 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, don’t do that Artie.
• He manages to interlock their fingers with his, giving a smug grin.
You’ll hurt my feelings. Do you want to hurt my feelings?
Yes. …no. I don’t know! I’ll do what I like, how ‘bout that? You fuckin’ dick..
<they draw his hand back to their chest, eyes much too confused on what they’d like from him. He’d spun them in circles with his teasing, and now they’re quite disoriented- left dizzy and stumbling in their words. Their eyes flit down to his mouth for a moment, scowl deepening, because they don’t like being confused.>
you stop teasin’ me! Asshole!!
Well, why don’t you make me?
<they press their lips to his fast. He’d told them to make him stop, hadn’t he? They’d figure this suffices. They move back away from his face just as quickly as they’d moved in, tired and still-irritable eyes catching his. They can only hope it’d shut him up.>
• Guest just stood in shock for a moment, mouth slightly agape. He hadn’t expected them to actually do that!
Damn, Artie…
• 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?..
“ hi. 🥺”
-The chef!! 🥩 ( @the-chefs-cleaver )
(Enjoy…😎😎😎)
😳
“Uhm…hello! So nice to meet you, whoever you are. Who are you, exactly?”
“Oh yeah sorry! I work in the school’s cafeteria. (Ooc; I’m guessing your guy is in the school?) The names David!.. some people just call me the chef or Mr. D!.. and uhm.. you are?”
The chef would put out his hand to shake, it being covered by a glove that he then took off with a small ‘sorry’. The man would have a large, rough-textured hand.
|| he doesn’t, exactly, but he lingers around sometimes!
• Guest gladly took the man’s hand, shaking it, his touch lasting for a moment too long.
“My name is…unnecessary. People just call me Guest anyway.”
• He crossed his arms, giving the chef an odd look. Most would’ve took it as nervousness…or something.
“So, Mr. D, I’m curious about this school; is it still active? Is there still students here?”
“Ah! Wellll hello Guest!.. mind if I just call you Mr. GT?..”
David would look down at the others hand as it lingered, chuckling a bit, it being in a non malicious way.
“Well.. it IS active though… not really.. filled with students anymore… from what I know it’s basically a safe space in a way.. though there are still some visitors around the area..”
“GT is fine…I 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.
“Visitors, you say? Do they normally reside here? Would you say this place is a visitor nest?”
Artie, you absolute wimp, why do you keep letting that odd woman bother you?
-@theominousguest
I ain’t a wimp. You’re a wimp. Ha! <oooh, they really got him there..> An’ umm.. <they pause, considering.> how ‘bout you take your nose outta my business an’ shove it up your ass instead?
…seriously?
• At their sudden outburst, or short tantrum, Guest laughs. Mocking them.
One, that wasn’t clever; two, that isn’t possible; and three, you’re 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, an’ how am I provin’ your point?? Callin’ you nosy- ‘cause you are- does not make me a wimp.
I’m not butthurt! I’ll 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, I’m calling you a wimp because you went straight to insults instead of answering my question. My point is that you’re cowering from on odd freak-show of a woman and doing nothing at all to stop her.
So, you’re still a wimp.
Good, maybe that’s what- that’s what I want! Ssso….. uh there! <they’re losing the thread. This is no longer a threat.>
Well, I only did that ‘cause you called me a wimp! An’ if you think it’s so easy t’ make her go away I’d absolutely love t’ see you try. I have tried it jus’ didn’t work, dipshit. She doesn’t listen.
An’ I’m 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 you’re too scared to do it, I’ll handle it myself. M’kay? Twinkie.
I feel you’re not hearing me. Can you hear me?? <they snap their fingers at him for emphasis.>
I have talked t’ her. “Like a man”. I’ve told her t’ fuck off, an’ that I hate her an’ why an’… whatever.. she jus’ doesn’t listen!! Her husband’s probably as bad as her if he’s willingly married her.
I ain’t scared an’ I ain’t a goddamn “twink” either. I bet I could f- I could take you out if I wanted!
<they’re bluffing. They might be able to- maybe- but even if they were capable they certainly won’t try anything. They run from fights more often than they actually ever hurt anyone.>
Hey, you watch yourself, Orion is great. He’s 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.
…he would not win in a fight against them. But they don’t need to know that.
And I’m sure I can take you just fine.
I don’t even know who Orion is. Whatever. HA! No you can’t. I could beat your ass even with one leg. Or you could drop it, sweetheart.
<there’s 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 ain’t a goddamn coward!
<they hiss, grabbing his jaw with one hand on an impulse. It’s mildly threatening, though it likely isn’t intended to be. It’s not really intended to be anything at all. They’d done it without a thought.>
Shut the hell up, you nosy bitch!
• His eyes had widened in shock at first, shocked by the audacity– he hadn’t expected them to actually act out– 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? You’re givin’ me a headache. You think you’re real clever, but really you’re dumb as a rock. ‘Cause why would you insult someone who can beat you senseless?
What’s your problem? What the hell’d I do??
Oh please. You wish you could beat me. I know you wouldn’t dare.
• To respond to their other question, Guest just shrugs.
And, what can I say? You get mad so easily, it’s hard to not tease you for it.
Fuckin’ test me, why don’t you? I can prove you wrong if you’d 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 he’s right. They’d never really, truly hurt him. Maybe rough him up a bit if they get too frustrated, but they’d never seriously harm him.>
I do not. I don’t get mad easy. You’re jus’- you jus’ know how t- you’re jus’ enough of an asshole that I get kinda ticked off.
Oh sure, kinda ticked off, yet you’re yelling at me. You’re 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. They’d really rather not do anything, but if he’s egging them on….>
I’m gonna rock your fuckin’ shit you- you.. <they search for insults but evidently they give up, by their awkward silence.>
• Guest doesn’t even move, not doing much but smirking at them. He just stood there. As if he wanted them to beat him up.
“You” what? You can’t speak now? Are you scared?
I can speak plenty! ‘M not fuckin’ scared! Why would I be scared?? You couldn’t hurt me if you tried.
<they push him back as a threat, though in all reality it’s 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 don’t know that because you haven’t 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 don’t you fight back?? Are you scared?
<a triumphant and rather cocky grin follows>
• Guest’s 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, no…no, 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 I’m perfectly fine in this position.
Somethin’ else? Like what?
<they give him a disgruntled look, keeping him tucked firmly against the wall, so he can’t flee, or move around them. They want to keep the upper ground.>
No, I ain’t askin’ you t’ punch me, ‘s jus’ weird that you’re not.. doin’ anythin’. Are you some kinda masochist, or jus’ a pussy?
Well, I don’t have a pussy, so I guess I’m 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. Haven’t we had a discussion about this before?
well you don’t have t’ have one, t’ be one- an’- ooh…. Seriously?
<their face goes pink, embarrassed and perhaps mildly flustered. Where the hell is he going with this? He really is a masochist! He’s getting off on them pushing him around! Their nose scrunches up at him, eyebrows drawn together in something between disgust and amusement.>
I don’t- ‘scuse me??? I don’t know? You’re- you’re some special kinda freak, ain’t you? Ahhaha!
Hah! Don’t laugh at me as if you aren’t one too.
• Guest trails his hand down to their chest, as if emphasizing his words.
The way you’re pinning me down really says a lot about you.
Am not!
<they move their hands away from him, as if they’ve got a point to prove. They however, don’t move away from his hands, or make any moves to stop him. They contemplate continuing their fighting with him, but they figure he’d like that, and since he’s not fighting back, that means they win by default… right? They smile proudly, pleased with themself to have conquered their… foe? They’re not quite sure what he is in relation to them.>
See? I ain’t pinnin’ you- anymore. An’ you’re the one fondlin’ an’ feelin’ me up sooo…
And you’ve still never told me to stop or push me away, not once.
• He snorts at their…stupid.. dumb face, rolling his eyes.
You’re really trying to prove something aren’t you?? It’s not working.
I can if you’d 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, don’t do that Artie.
• He manages to interlock their fingers with his, giving a smug grin.
You’ll hurt my feelings. Do you want to hurt my feelings?
Yes. …no. I don’t know! I’ll do what I like, how ‘bout that? You fuckin’ dick..
<they draw his hand back to their chest, eyes much too confused on what they’d like from him. He’d spun them in circles with his teasing, and now they’re quite disoriented- left dizzy and stumbling in their words. Their eyes flit down to his mouth for a moment, scowl deepening, because they don’t like being confused.>
you stop teasin’ me! Asshole!!
Well, why don’t you make me?
Artie, you absolute wimp, why do you keep letting that odd woman bother you?
-@theominousguest
I ain’t a wimp. You’re a wimp. Ha! <oooh, they really got him there..> An’ umm.. <they pause, considering.> how ‘bout you take your nose outta my business an’ shove it up your ass instead?
…seriously?
• At their sudden outburst, or short tantrum, Guest laughs. Mocking them.
One, that wasn’t clever; two, that isn’t possible; and three, you’re 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, an’ how am I provin’ your point?? Callin’ you nosy- ‘cause you are- does not make me a wimp.
I’m not butthurt! I’ll 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, I’m calling you a wimp because you went straight to insults instead of answering my question. My point is that you’re cowering from on odd freak-show of a woman and doing nothing at all to stop her.
So, you’re still a wimp.
Good, maybe that’s what- that’s what I want! Ssso….. uh there! <they’re losing the thread. This is no longer a threat.>
Well, I only did that ‘cause you called me a wimp! An’ if you think it’s so easy t’ make her go away I’d absolutely love t’ see you try. I have tried it jus’ didn’t work, dipshit. She doesn’t listen.
An’ I’m 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 you’re too scared to do it, I’ll handle it myself. M’kay? Twinkie.
I feel you’re not hearing me. Can you hear me?? <they snap their fingers at him for emphasis.>
I have talked t’ her. “Like a man”. I’ve told her t’ fuck off, an’ that I hate her an’ why an’… whatever.. she jus’ doesn’t listen!! Her husband’s probably as bad as her if he’s willingly married her.
I ain’t scared an’ I ain’t a goddamn “twink” either. I bet I could f- I could take you out if I wanted!
<they’re bluffing. They might be able to- maybe- but even if they were capable they certainly won’t try anything. They run from fights more often than they actually ever hurt anyone.>
Hey, you watch yourself, Orion is great. He’s 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.
…he would not win in a fight against them. But they don’t need to know that.
And I’m sure I can take you just fine.
I don’t even know who Orion is. Whatever. HA! No you can’t. I could beat your ass even with one leg. Or you could drop it, sweetheart.
<there’s 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 ain’t a goddamn coward!
<they hiss, grabbing his jaw with one hand on an impulse. It’s mildly threatening, though it likely isn’t intended to be. It’s not really intended to be anything at all. They’d done it without a thought.>
Shut the hell up, you nosy bitch!
• His eyes had widened in shock at first, shocked by the audacity– he hadn’t expected them to actually act out– 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? You’re givin’ me a headache. You think you’re real clever, but really you’re dumb as a rock. ‘Cause why would you insult someone who can beat you senseless?
What’s your problem? What the hell’d I do??
Oh please. You wish you could beat me. I know you wouldn’t dare.
• To respond to their other question, Guest just shrugs.
And, what can I say? You get mad so easily, it’s hard to not tease you for it.
Fuckin’ test me, why don’t you? I can prove you wrong if you’d 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 he’s right. They’d never really, truly hurt him. Maybe rough him up a bit if they get too frustrated, but they’d never seriously harm him.>
I do not. I don’t get mad easy. You’re jus’- you jus’ know how t- you’re jus’ enough of an asshole that I get kinda ticked off.
Oh sure, kinda ticked off, yet you’re yelling at me. You’re 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. They’d really rather not do anything, but if he’s egging them on….>
I’m gonna rock your fuckin’ shit you- you.. <they search for insults but evidently they give up, by their awkward silence.>
• Guest doesn’t even move, not doing much but smirking at them. He just stood there. As if he wanted them to beat him up.
“You” what? You can’t speak now? Are you scared?
I can speak plenty! ‘M not fuckin’ scared! Why would I be scared?? You couldn’t hurt me if you tried.
<they push him back as a threat, though in all reality it’s 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 don’t know that because you haven’t 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 don’t you fight back?? Are you scared?
<a triumphant and rather cocky grin follows>
• Guest’s 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, no…no, 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 I’m perfectly fine in this position.
Somethin’ else? Like what?
<they give him a disgruntled look, keeping him tucked firmly against the wall, so he can’t flee, or move around them. They want to keep the upper ground.>
No, I ain’t askin’ you t’ punch me, ‘s jus’ weird that you’re not.. doin’ anythin’. Are you some kinda masochist, or jus’ a pussy?
Well, I don’t have a pussy, so I guess I’m 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. Haven’t we had a discussion about this before?
well you don’t have t’ have one, t’ be one- an’- ooh…. Seriously?
<their face goes pink, embarrassed and perhaps mildly flustered. Where the hell is he going with this? He really is a masochist! He’s getting off on them pushing him around! Their nose scrunches up at him, eyebrows drawn together in something between disgust and amusement.>
I don’t- ‘scuse me??? I don’t know? You’re- you’re some special kinda freak, ain’t you? Ahhaha!
Hah! Don’t laugh at me as if you aren’t one too.
• Guest trails his hand down to their chest, as if emphasizing his words.
The way you’re pinning me down really says a lot about you.
Am not!
<they move their hands away from him, as if they’ve got a point to prove. They however, don’t move away from his hands, or make any moves to stop him. They contemplate continuing their fighting with him, but they figure he’d like that, and since he’s not fighting back, that means they win by default… right? They smile proudly, pleased with themself to have conquered their… foe? They’re not quite sure what he is in relation to them.>
See? I ain’t pinnin’ you- anymore. An’ you’re the one fondlin’ an’ feelin’ me up sooo…
And you’ve still never told me to stop or push me away, not once.
• He snorts at their…stupid.. dumb face, rolling his eyes.
You’re really trying to prove something aren’t you?? It’s not working.
I can if you’d 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, don’t do that Artie.
• He manages to interlock their fingers with his, giving a smug grin.
You’ll hurt my feelings. Do you want to hurt my feelings?
“ hi. 🥺”
-The chef!! 🥩 ( @the-chefs-cleaver )
(Enjoy…😎😎😎)
😳
“Uhm…hello! So nice to meet you, whoever you are. Who are you, exactly?”
“Oh yeah sorry! I work in the school’s cafeteria. (Ooc; I’m guessing your guy is in the school?) The names David!.. some people just call me the chef or Mr. D!.. and uhm.. you are?”
The chef would put out his hand to shake, it being covered by a glove that he then took off with a small ‘sorry’. The man would have a large, rough-textured hand.
|| he doesn’t, exactly, but he lingers around sometimes!
• Guest gladly took the man’s hand, shaking it, his touch lasting for a moment too long.
“My name is…unnecessary. People just call me Guest anyway.”
• He crossed his arms, giving the chef an odd look. Most would’ve took it as nervousness…or something.
“So, Mr. D, I’m curious about this school; is it still active? Is there still students here?”
Artie, you absolute wimp, why do you keep letting that odd woman bother you?
-@theominousguest
I ain’t a wimp. You’re a wimp. Ha! <oooh, they really got him there..> An’ umm.. <they pause, considering.> how ‘bout you take your nose outta my business an’ shove it up your ass instead?
…seriously?
• At their sudden outburst, or short tantrum, Guest laughs. Mocking them.
One, that wasn’t clever; two, that isn’t possible; and three, you’re 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, an’ how am I provin’ your point?? Callin’ you nosy- ‘cause you are- does not make me a wimp.
I’m not butthurt! I’ll 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, I’m calling you a wimp because you went straight to insults instead of answering my question. My point is that you’re cowering from on odd freak-show of a woman and doing nothing at all to stop her.
So, you’re still a wimp.
Good, maybe that’s what- that’s what I want! Ssso….. uh there! <they’re losing the thread. This is no longer a threat.>
Well, I only did that ‘cause you called me a wimp! An’ if you think it’s so easy t’ make her go away I’d absolutely love t’ see you try. I have tried it jus’ didn’t work, dipshit. She doesn’t listen.
An’ I’m 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 you’re too scared to do it, I’ll handle it myself. M’kay? Twinkie.
I feel you’re not hearing me. Can you hear me?? <they snap their fingers at him for emphasis.>
I have talked t’ her. “Like a man”. I’ve told her t’ fuck off, an’ that I hate her an’ why an’… whatever.. she jus’ doesn’t listen!! Her husband’s probably as bad as her if he’s willingly married her.
I ain’t scared an’ I ain’t a goddamn “twink” either. I bet I could f- I could take you out if I wanted!
<they’re bluffing. They might be able to- maybe- but even if they were capable they certainly won’t try anything. They run from fights more often than they actually ever hurt anyone.>
Hey, you watch yourself, Orion is great. He’s 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.
…he would not win in a fight against them. But they don’t need to know that.
And I’m sure I can take you just fine.
I don’t even know who Orion is. Whatever. HA! No you can’t. I could beat your ass even with one leg. Or you could drop it, sweetheart.
<there’s 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 ain’t a goddamn coward!
<they hiss, grabbing his jaw with one hand on an impulse. It’s mildly threatening, though it likely isn’t intended to be. It’s not really intended to be anything at all. They’d done it without a thought.>
Shut the hell up, you nosy bitch!
• His eyes had widened in shock at first, shocked by the audacity– he hadn’t expected them to actually act out– 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? You’re givin’ me a headache. You think you’re real clever, but really you’re dumb as a rock. ‘Cause why would you insult someone who can beat you senseless?
What’s your problem? What the hell’d I do??
Oh please. You wish you could beat me. I know you wouldn’t dare.
• To respond to their other question, Guest just shrugs.
And, what can I say? You get mad so easily, it’s hard to not tease you for it.
Fuckin’ test me, why don’t you? I can prove you wrong if you’d 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 he’s right. They’d never really, truly hurt him. Maybe rough him up a bit if they get too frustrated, but they’d never seriously harm him.>
I do not. I don’t get mad easy. You’re jus’- you jus’ know how t- you’re jus’ enough of an asshole that I get kinda ticked off.
Oh sure, kinda ticked off, yet you’re yelling at me. You’re 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. They’d really rather not do anything, but if he’s egging them on….>
I’m gonna rock your fuckin’ shit you- you.. <they search for insults but evidently they give up, by their awkward silence.>
• Guest doesn’t even move, not doing much but smirking at them. He just stood there. As if he wanted them to beat him up.
“You” what? You can’t speak now? Are you scared?
I can speak plenty! ‘M not fuckin’ scared! Why would I be scared?? You couldn’t hurt me if you tried.
<they push him back as a threat, though in all reality it’s 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 don’t know that because you haven’t 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 don’t you fight back?? Are you scared?
<a triumphant and rather cocky grin follows>
• Guest’s 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, no…no, 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 I’m perfectly fine in this position.
Somethin’ else? Like what?
<they give him a disgruntled look, keeping him tucked firmly against the wall, so he can’t flee, or move around them. They want to keep the upper ground.>
No, I ain’t askin’ you t’ punch me, ‘s jus’ weird that you’re not.. doin’ anythin’. Are you some kinda masochist, or jus’ a pussy?
Well, I don’t have a pussy, so I guess I’m 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. Haven’t we had a discussion about this before?
well you don’t have t’ have one, t’ be one- an’- ooh…. Seriously?
<their face goes pink, embarrassed and perhaps mildly flustered. Where the hell is he going with this? He really is a masochist! He’s getting off on them pushing him around! Their nose scrunches up at him, eyebrows drawn together in something between disgust and amusement.>
I don’t- ‘scuse me??? I don’t know? You’re- you’re some special kinda freak, ain’t you? Ahhaha!
Hah! Don’t laugh at me as if you aren’t one too.
• Guest trails his hand down to their chest, as if emphasizing his words.
The way you’re pinning me down really says a lot about you.
Am not!
<they move their hands away from him, as if they’ve got a point to prove. They however, don’t move away from his hands, or make any moves to stop him. They contemplate continuing their fighting with him, but they figure he’d like that, and since he’s not fighting back, that means they win by default… right? They smile proudly, pleased with themself to have conquered their… foe? They’re not quite sure what he is in relation to them.>
See? I ain’t pinnin’ you- anymore. An’ you’re the one fondlin’ an’ feelin’ me up sooo…
And you’ve still never told me to stop or push me away, not once.
• He snorts at their…stupid.. dumb face, rolling his eyes.
You’re really trying to prove something aren’t you?? It’s not working.
“ hi. 🥺”
-The chef!! 🥩 ( @the-chefs-cleaver )
(Enjoy…😎😎😎)
😳
“Uhm…hello! So nice to meet you, whoever you are. Who are you, exactly?”
Artie, you absolute wimp, why do you keep letting that odd woman bother you?
-@theominousguest
I ain’t a wimp. You’re a wimp. Ha! <oooh, they really got him there..> An’ umm.. <they pause, considering.> how ‘bout you take your nose outta my business an’ shove it up your ass instead?
…seriously?
• At their sudden outburst, or short tantrum, Guest laughs. Mocking them.
One, that wasn’t clever; two, that isn’t possible; and three, you’re 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, an’ how am I provin’ your point?? Callin’ you nosy- ‘cause you are- does not make me a wimp.
I’m not butthurt! I’ll 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, I’m calling you a wimp because you went straight to insults instead of answering my question. My point is that you’re cowering from on odd freak-show of a woman and doing nothing at all to stop her.
So, you’re still a wimp.
Good, maybe that’s what- that’s what I want! Ssso….. uh there! <they’re losing the thread. This is no longer a threat.>
Well, I only did that ‘cause you called me a wimp! An’ if you think it’s so easy t’ make her go away I’d absolutely love t’ see you try. I have tried it jus’ didn’t work, dipshit. She doesn’t listen.
An’ I’m 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 you’re too scared to do it, I’ll handle it myself. M’kay? Twinkie.
I feel you’re not hearing me. Can you hear me?? <they snap their fingers at him for emphasis.>
I have talked t’ her. “Like a man”. I’ve told her t’ fuck off, an’ that I hate her an’ why an’… whatever.. she jus’ doesn’t listen!! Her husband’s probably as bad as her if he’s willingly married her.
I ain’t scared an’ I ain’t a goddamn “twink” either. I bet I could f- I could take you out if I wanted!
<they’re bluffing. They might be able to- maybe- but even if they were capable they certainly won’t try anything. They run from fights more often than they actually ever hurt anyone.>
Hey, you watch yourself, Orion is great. He’s 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.
…he would not win in a fight against them. But they don’t need to know that.
And I’m sure I can take you just fine.
I don’t even know who Orion is. Whatever. HA! No you can’t. I could beat your ass even with one leg. Or you could drop it, sweetheart.
<there’s 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 ain’t a goddamn coward!
<they hiss, grabbing his jaw with one hand on an impulse. It’s mildly threatening, though it likely isn’t intended to be. It’s not really intended to be anything at all. They’d done it without a thought.>
Shut the hell up, you nosy bitch!
• His eyes had widened in shock at first, shocked by the audacity– he hadn’t expected them to actually act out– 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? You’re givin’ me a headache. You think you’re real clever, but really you’re dumb as a rock. ‘Cause why would you insult someone who can beat you senseless?
What’s your problem? What the hell’d I do??
Oh please. You wish you could beat me. I know you wouldn’t dare.
• To respond to their other question, Guest just shrugs.
And, what can I say? You get mad so easily, it’s hard to not tease you for it.
Fuckin’ test me, why don’t you? I can prove you wrong if you’d 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 he’s right. They’d never really, truly hurt him. Maybe rough him up a bit if they get too frustrated, but they’d never seriously harm him.>
I do not. I don’t get mad easy. You’re jus’- you jus’ know how t- you’re jus’ enough of an asshole that I get kinda ticked off.
Oh sure, kinda ticked off, yet you’re yelling at me. You’re 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. They’d really rather not do anything, but if he’s egging them on….>
I’m gonna rock your fuckin’ shit you- you.. <they search for insults but evidently they give up, by their awkward silence.>
• Guest doesn’t even move, not doing much but smirking at them. He just stood there. As if he wanted them to beat him up.
“You” what? You can’t speak now? Are you scared?
I can speak plenty! ‘M not fuckin’ scared! Why would I be scared?? You couldn’t hurt me if you tried.
<they push him back as a threat, though in all reality it’s 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 don’t know that because you haven’t 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 don’t you fight back?? Are you scared?
<a triumphant and rather cocky grin follows>
• Guest’s 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, no…no, 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 I’m perfectly fine in this position.
Somethin’ else? Like what?
<they give him a disgruntled look, keeping him tucked firmly against the wall, so he can’t flee, or move around them. They want to keep the upper ground.>
No, I ain’t askin’ you t’ punch me, ‘s jus’ weird that you’re not.. doin’ anythin’. Are you some kinda masochist, or jus’ a pussy?
Well, I don’t have a pussy, so I guess I’m 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. Haven’t we had a discussion about this before?
well you don’t have t’ have one, t’ be one- an’- ooh…. Seriously?
<their face goes pink, embarrassed and perhaps mildly flustered. Where the hell is he going with this? He really is a masochist! He’s getting off on them pushing him around! Their nose scrunches up at him, eyebrows drawn together in something between disgust and amusement.>
I don’t- ‘scuse me??? I don’t know? You’re- you’re some special kinda freak, ain’t you? Ahhaha!
Hah! Don’t laugh at me as if you aren’t one too.
• Guest trails his hand down to their chest, as if emphasizing his words.
The way you’re pinning me down really says a lot about you.
Artie, you absolute wimp, why do you keep letting that odd woman bother you?
-@theominousguest
I ain’t a wimp. You’re a wimp. Ha! <oooh, they really got him there..> An’ umm.. <they pause, considering.> how ‘bout you take your nose outta my business an’ shove it up your ass instead?
…seriously?
• At their sudden outburst, or short tantrum, Guest laughs. Mocking them.
One, that wasn’t clever; two, that isn’t possible; and three, you’re 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, an’ how am I provin’ your point?? Callin’ you nosy- ‘cause you are- does not make me a wimp.
I’m not butthurt! I’ll 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, I’m calling you a wimp because you went straight to insults instead of answering my question. My point is that you’re cowering from on odd freak-show of a woman and doing nothing at all to stop her.
So, you’re still a wimp.
Good, maybe that’s what- that’s what I want! Ssso….. uh there! <they’re losing the thread. This is no longer a threat.>
Well, I only did that ‘cause you called me a wimp! An’ if you think it’s so easy t’ make her go away I’d absolutely love t’ see you try. I have tried it jus’ didn’t work, dipshit. She doesn’t listen.
An’ I’m 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 you’re too scared to do it, I’ll handle it myself. M’kay? Twinkie.
I feel you’re not hearing me. Can you hear me?? <they snap their fingers at him for emphasis.>
I have talked t’ her. “Like a man”. I’ve told her t’ fuck off, an’ that I hate her an’ why an’… whatever.. she jus’ doesn’t listen!! Her husband’s probably as bad as her if he’s willingly married her.
I ain’t scared an’ I ain’t a goddamn “twink” either. I bet I could f- I could take you out if I wanted!
<they’re bluffing. They might be able to- maybe- but even if they were capable they certainly won’t try anything. They run from fights more often than they actually ever hurt anyone.>
Hey, you watch yourself, Orion is great. He’s 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.
…he would not win in a fight against them. But they don’t need to know that.
And I’m sure I can take you just fine.
I don’t even know who Orion is. Whatever. HA! No you can’t. I could beat your ass even with one leg. Or you could drop it, sweetheart.
<there’s 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 ain’t a goddamn coward!
<they hiss, grabbing his jaw with one hand on an impulse. It’s mildly threatening, though it likely isn’t intended to be. It’s not really intended to be anything at all. They’d done it without a thought.>
Shut the hell up, you nosy bitch!
• His eyes had widened in shock at first, shocked by the audacity– he hadn’t expected them to actually act out– 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? You’re givin’ me a headache. You think you’re real clever, but really you’re dumb as a rock. ‘Cause why would you insult someone who can beat you senseless?
What’s your problem? What the hell’d I do??
Oh please. You wish you could beat me. I know you wouldn’t dare.
• To respond to their other question, Guest just shrugs.
And, what can I say? You get mad so easily, it’s hard to not tease you for it.
Fuckin’ test me, why don’t you? I can prove you wrong if you’d 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 he’s right. They’d never really, truly hurt him. Maybe rough him up a bit if they get too frustrated, but they’d never seriously harm him.>
I do not. I don’t get mad easy. You’re jus’- you jus’ know how t- you’re jus’ enough of an asshole that I get kinda ticked off.
Oh sure, kinda ticked off, yet you’re yelling at me. You’re 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. They’d really rather not do anything, but if he’s egging them on….>
I’m gonna rock your fuckin’ shit you- you.. <they search for insults but evidently they give up, by their awkward silence.>
• Guest doesn’t even move, not doing much but smirking at them. He just stood there. As if he wanted them to beat him up.
“You” what? You can’t speak now? Are you scared?
I can speak plenty! ‘M not fuckin’ scared! Why would I be scared?? You couldn’t hurt me if you tried.
<they push him back as a threat, though in all reality it’s 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 don’t know that because you haven’t 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 don’t you fight back?? Are you scared?
<a triumphant and rather cocky grin follows>
• Guest’s 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, no…no, 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 I’m perfectly fine in this position.
Somethin’ else? Like what?
<they give him a disgruntled look, keeping him tucked firmly against the wall, so he can’t flee, or move around them. They want to keep the upper ground.>
No, I ain’t askin’ you t’ punch me, ‘s jus’ weird that you’re not.. doin’ anythin’. Are you some kinda masochist, or jus’ a pussy?
Well, I don’t have a pussy, so I guess I’m 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. Haven’t we had a discussion about this before?
Artie, you absolute wimp, why do you keep letting that odd woman bother you?
-@theominousguest
I ain’t a wimp. You’re a wimp. Ha! <oooh, they really got him there..> An’ umm.. <they pause, considering.> how ‘bout you take your nose outta my business an’ shove it up your ass instead?
…seriously?
• At their sudden outburst, or short tantrum, Guest laughs. Mocking them.
One, that wasn’t clever; two, that isn’t possible; and three, you’re 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, an’ how am I provin’ your point?? Callin’ you nosy- ‘cause you are- does not make me a wimp.
I’m not butthurt! I’ll 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, I’m calling you a wimp because you went straight to insults instead of answering my question. My point is that you’re cowering from on odd freak-show of a woman and doing nothing at all to stop her.
So, you’re still a wimp.
Good, maybe that’s what- that’s what I want! Ssso….. uh there! <they’re losing the thread. This is no longer a threat.>
Well, I only did that ‘cause you called me a wimp! An’ if you think it’s so easy t’ make her go away I’d absolutely love t’ see you try. I have tried it jus’ didn’t work, dipshit. She doesn’t listen.
An’ I’m 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 you’re too scared to do it, I’ll handle it myself. M’kay? Twinkie.
I feel you’re not hearing me. Can you hear me?? <they snap their fingers at him for emphasis.>
I have talked t’ her. “Like a man”. I’ve told her t’ fuck off, an’ that I hate her an’ why an’… whatever.. she jus’ doesn’t listen!! Her husband’s probably as bad as her if he’s willingly married her.
I ain’t scared an’ I ain’t a goddamn “twink” either. I bet I could f- I could take you out if I wanted!
<they’re bluffing. They might be able to- maybe- but even if they were capable they certainly won’t try anything. They run from fights more often than they actually ever hurt anyone.>
Hey, you watch yourself, Orion is great. He’s 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.
…he would not win in a fight against them. But they don’t need to know that.
And I’m sure I can take you just fine.
I don’t even know who Orion is. Whatever. HA! No you can’t. I could beat your ass even with one leg. Or you could drop it, sweetheart.
<there’s 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 ain’t a goddamn coward!
<they hiss, grabbing his jaw with one hand on an impulse. It’s mildly threatening, though it likely isn’t intended to be. It’s not really intended to be anything at all. They’d done it without a thought.>
Shut the hell up, you nosy bitch!
• His eyes had widened in shock at first, shocked by the audacity– he hadn’t expected them to actually act out– 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? You’re givin’ me a headache. You think you’re real clever, but really you’re dumb as a rock. ‘Cause why would you insult someone who can beat you senseless?
What’s your problem? What the hell’d I do??
Oh please. You wish you could beat me. I know you wouldn’t dare.
• To respond to their other question, Guest just shrugs.
And, what can I say? You get mad so easily, it’s hard to not tease you for it.
Fuckin’ test me, why don’t you? I can prove you wrong if you’d 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 he’s right. They’d never really, truly hurt him. Maybe rough him up a bit if they get too frustrated, but they’d never seriously harm him.>
I do not. I don’t get mad easy. You’re jus’- you jus’ know how t- you’re jus’ enough of an asshole that I get kinda ticked off.
Oh sure, kinda ticked off, yet you’re yelling at me. You’re 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. They’d really rather not do anything, but if he’s egging them on….>
I’m gonna rock your fuckin’ shit you- you.. <they search for insults but evidently they give up, by their awkward silence.>
• Guest doesn’t even move, not doing much but smirking at them. He just stood there. As if he wanted them to beat him up.
“You” what? You can’t speak now? Are you scared?
I can speak plenty! ‘M not fuckin’ scared! Why would I be scared?? You couldn’t hurt me if you tried.
<they push him back as a threat, though in all reality it’s 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 don’t know that because you haven’t 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 don’t you fight back?? Are you scared?
<a triumphant and rather cocky grin follows>
• Guest’s 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, no…no, 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 I’m perfectly fine in this position.
