carry on

[yume-hanabi]

We love death and dying~ || Daisuke and Raharlian

[yume-hanabi]

Smallpox? That certainly was one Daisuke hadn’t thought he’d meet in his lifetime; Champ hadn’t been kidding when he said it would soon go extinct. Truth be told, he hadn’t thought any smallpox dragons would still be alive. Perhaps that was why the spiral was so… Small. Gods, Daisuke practically towered above him. Were they even within a foot of each other? 

He’d probably heard of it? The imperial glanced back at Champ and raised a brow, a half-frown forming on his face (though he was too lazy to put in the effort of a full frown). “Hey, fetus, how old do you think I am?” He clicked his tongue, turning his head back towards the front. “Tell me what the womb looks like, since I bet you still remember.” Gods, from what he’d studied, the last outbreak of smallpox had been when he was… What, two? Like hell he was old enough to know it! 

The brat was honestly lucky Daisuke had remembered anything he’d studied at all. After all, it wasn’t like history was anything interesting; it was only for Masayoshi’s sake that he’d tried studying at all (he at least owed it to the man to try to give him as few headaches as possible). He wasn’t a trainee anymore though, so… Honestly, he was a bit mad that he still remembered anything. Imagine how many swordplay techniques he could remember with the space his brain dedicated to the history of smallpox and the wars of the angry old guys from like, twelve hundred years ago. 

“By the way, don’t worry about taking the long way around for anything,” Daisuke yawned, not even bothering to hide it. “I’m fine with catching supersickiosis or whatever it is the nasty plague smellies will give me. Oooh, I wonder if I’ll get blisters…” He stretched his arm out in front of him, flexing his fingers and watching them move with vague curiosity. Was there a disease out there that could cripple his sword hand? Man, that would really suck. If he was going to get deathly sick he’d at least like to be able to chop stuff up while his organs turned to mush. 

[yaikxe]

The pass over the mountains wouldn’t be nearly as fast as following fast as the path he had initially wanted to take, but it would be a bit quicker than the pass around the fields and through the bare and bleak forests. But quicker didn’t always mean safer. Taking that route would let them skip past the gaseous fields and still make okay time, but going through the mountain pass was dangerous and it would be difficult to travel. The pass that went through the dry woods would be safer. There were wild animals to worry about, but with two trained knights following down that pass, wild animals really shouldn’t be anything for them to worry about.. But the added time it would pile on their journey certainly would. Raharlian was drawn from his thoughts by Daisuke’s voice and turned his head to him. He looked up to the man who towered over him and– Wait, what? Fetus? The Womb? What in the Gods name had.. Oh. Oh Gods. He had practically called a more experienced, battle-ready knight old. Raharlian’s cheek’s flushed lightly and his eyes widened. “Ah, I didn’t mean it like that. You’re not, well you don’t look old, you’re just- I assumed you were older than me,” he said, now not so sure how old this man was. Daisuke had acted pretty offended when he accidentally implied that he was old. Maybe he was closer to his age than he looked or maybe he just didn’t like being called old. Gods, Raharlian hadn’t even realized how rude he had sounded. “Hm..?” the young spiral sounded, his embarrassment disappearing as soon as it had shown its ugly head. A frown formed on his brow and he shook his head. “You very well might. The smog and gas in those areas could easily kill you. That ‘supersickiosis’ really isn’t something to joke about,” Raharlian told him as he looked back down to the map in his hands, “We’ll be taking a different route; I don’t want you to end up dying or getting more hurt than necessary, er.. Not that getting hurt is necessary, but it’s hard to avoid it on a mission.”

The young knight folded the map back up and stuck it into the pouch on the side of his knacksack. He held onto the straps of his bag and glanced over to the knight he had been partnered up with. Raharlian still wasn’t sure what to think or him. He seemed a bit aloof when they had first met, then he gave him the willies, and then he was asking for a joke- honestly, Raharlian didn’t have a clue what to think or him. He looked away and faced the direction they were going. “I honestly think that going through the dry woods would be a better option. It’ll take longer than going through the mountain pass, but the mountain pass is dangerous.”

[yume-hanabi]

We love death and dying~ || Daisuke and Raharlian

[yume-hanabi]

The wait for Champ’s joke was a painful one, and the longer they walked in silence, the more exasperated he became. How long did it take to tell a joke? He understood cracking under pressure, but– oh? What was this? The minuscule medic had turned to him with a look of realization and a smile! Could this mean–

Ohhhhh, my good great Naga. 

It took every ounce of Daisuke’s will to keep from pressing his palm to his forehead in disappointment. Unluckily for Champ, every ounce was still approximately zero ounces, and Daisuke’s palm crashed against his forehead with a resounding (and incredibly vexed) smack. Not one joke? Not a one? The imperial leaned his head back, staring up at the sky in desperation. He couldn’t see Masayoshi, he couldn’t go home, and he was stuck with Knock Knock McGee over here who wasn’t even a medic by profession– and even worse, there was nothing to stab! Except trees, but Masayoshi had told him that hurting trees was too mean and bad for nature. 

So he couldn’t even angrily poke trees– it was the worst!

Palm still pressed to his forehead, Daisuke began to gesture erratically with his free hand. “I haven’t studied jack shit, but I might remember some stuff,” the imperial explained, a slight emphasis on his curse words (at least he could curse more with Masayoshi and Mercury gone) as he sighed, the sound more like a disappointed whine than anything else. “You’re all connected to some disease or another and it’s different from person to person. More of you are connected to common diseases than uncommon ones, and if a disease goes–” he stretched his hand out there, mimicking an explosion, “–booooosssshhhhhhh, then so do the people tied to it.” 

The royal knight’s explanation was short and crude, but though he seemed an eccentric fool, it was clear he actually understood the information he knew quite well. “You’re a funny bunch. Way too damn complex compared to– well, the entire rest of the world population.” Finally, the imperial straightened back up, stretching out his arms in front of him. “That enough?”

[thisisreallyfuckingstupidd]

Raharlian honestly felt humiliated that he didn’t have a joke to tell the other. Sure, it wasn’t all that important, but having a royal knight slap his forehead and then sigh like he had turned out as a huge disappointment didn’t help. Really though, Raharlian had tried his best to think of one, but not only were jokes something he didn’t share, they were also not shared with him. He had heard jokes be told to those around them and had been near a group where jokes were lightly thrown about, but they had never been told to him. They were usually things shared between friends and well... Friends were a touchy subject to the young knight. Luckily for him, Daisuke didn’t try to stay on that subject and told him what he knew. Raharlian was a bit impressed; Daisuke had explained it roughly, but he knew what he was talking about. “Yeah, you know the basics at least,” he said, looking to him before he shifted the knapsack on his back and pulled out a map that was scribbled and drawn on. He unfolded it and looked over it as he started to speak again. “I’m connected to the red plague, small pox others call it. It took a lot of lives years ago, I suppose you might have heard of it, you’re old enough,” he paused to looked over the map, trying to think of the best route to go.  Raharlian had thought that he would be working with another from the Plague and had planned on cutting through the fields of smog, which would have cut off a huge chunk of their travel time. But last last night when he had learned he would be working with someone from the Shadow, it threw a wrench in that plan. They would have to go around.

“Anyway, it’s dying off and will soon go extinct... I found a way to bring it back, not to the epidemic it once was, but enough to keep it alive. I just need to find the bones of an ancient ancestor of mine. I know roughly where the burial site is, but I wasn’t able to uncover it’s exact location,” the spiral told him, not sparing many details. Raharlian frowned lightly as he looked at the map and folded it some so he could focus on one area. They would have to go around the fuming fields, there was no question on that; there was no way Daisuke could hold his breath that long. But which way to go.. There were two different passes they could travel through, but neither were very safe. Raharlian lifted a hand as he thought and started to play with his hair, lightly tugging at it.

[yume-hanabi]

We love death and dying~ || Daisuke and Raharlian

[yume-hanabi]

Yet again, Daisuke’s expression changed, his pout shifting to something of an unimpressed stare. Was he already getting upset? Eesh, all he’d done was evaluate the guy who said he was a knight when the people who had informed him of his mission had told him he was a medic. What was with being as good as ‘any healer,’ though? As if that was anything impressive… He may as well have admitted to mediocrity. Daisuke’s eagerness plummeted; he wasn’t used to going on missions with average people. Boring. So boring. This wasn’t going to be fun at all. 

“Don’t really care,” the imperial finally replied, stifling a yawn. “I’ll keep going whether you heal me or not.” A pause; the imperial pursed his lips in a petulant, sulky pout, almost mumbling his next words. “S’not like he’s here, anyways…” The only reason he’d learned to be careful in the first place was because Masayoshi and Mercury actually… Cared about him, for some reason. …But if they weren’t here, he had no reason to try to hold back. After all, if he died, he’d hate to stain their clothes, or to see them look said because of the loss of something like him.  He did suppose, however, that speaking his last words in a friend’s arms was not a bad idea either– but Masayoshi had had enough of that for one lifetime. 

The knight shrugged noncommittally. “Yeah, sure,” he said, nodding. He had food, water, and his rings; what else did he need? With not even as much as a glance back, Daisuke began to saunter off; he didn’t know much about the mission, but he did know the general direction in which they needed to head. “So, guy, can you tell me about the mission? I think I zoned out for a moment back there.” He sure hoped that Champ had attempted to answer him, at least; he had no idea what had gone on while he’d gotten wrapped up in his thoughts. 

“Tell me everything you’ve got, by the way.” Another yawn. Gods, he’d love it if they could wake up later tomorrow. “Traveling’s boring and nobody told me jack shit.” He hadn’t even known that his companion was a knight, for goodness’ sake! All that he did know was that he was supposed to help some tiny plague dragon stay alive for some period of time. Well, that and the fact that the mission was so minor that they only picked someone as high level as him because of his antipathy towards pain (which he’d probably experience a lot of in the plague lands). Thus, no fun team. Just… This guy, whatever he was. He didn’t seem like fun. 

Hm.

“Also, tell me your best joke.” A pause. “But don’t don’t do a knock knock joke. Don’t even bother.” 

[thisisreallyfuckingstupidd]

Raharlian might have cut himself short in saying that he was as good as any healer, but in a way it was the truth. Any decent healer could treat wounds correctly and Raharlian could definitely treat wounds correctly... Along with infections, illnesses, broken bones, and mild head trauma. He was nothing to go bragging about, but he had definitely learned his fair share of the trade from his mother. She had been an adept a medic when she had been in her prime and had taught Raharlian as much as she could before he made his mind up to be a knight. 

The comment Daisuke made about still going on with a fight whether he was healed or not, then making a comment about someone not being here peaked the young knights interest. Who was he referring to? More importantly, why would he still fight wounded when there was someone who could help him? Raharlian didn’t know what to make of it, but he wasn’t one to pry so he left it alone. He didn’t know this imperial well enough to ask about something of that nature. So as Daisuke started off in the direction of their destination, Raharlian followed. After a bit of walking, the young spiral looked to his partner and readied himself to fill him in about the mission when another request was given to him. A joke... A joke? What in the world did that have to do with anything? God, did Raharlian even know any jokes? The knight reached up and grabbed the straps of his knapsack as his brows furrowed together in thought. “A joke..” he mumbled, trying to think of one. He knew he had to have heard one before, at least have overheard one. Finally, one came to mind and his eyes widened some as a smile came to his lips, looking over to Daisuke. 

“Knock- oh, right. Uh..” Raharlian looked away and that thoughtful frown tugged at his features once more. After a moment, he shook his head. “I don’t think I know any. Jokes aren’t something I share very often,” he said, “But I can fill you in about our mission, but I guess what I need to tell you also depends on what you know about the Plague. If you’re know about how our diseases work, then I can skip over a bit of it.” If Daisuke knew that the dying of a disease directly affected the survival of the dragons that lived under that illness, there would be no need for him to explain more than what they were looking for and why. If he didn’t, he might need to tell him a bit more so that he would at least somewhat understand why this was important. At least to Raharlian.

[yume-hanabi]

We love death and dying~ || Daisuke and Raharlian

[yume-hanabi]

Champ’s hunch was correct: Daisuke hadn’t heard a single word the spiral had said, having spaced out almost as soon as he’d posed his question. It was only once he’d snapped his fingers that Daisuke had tuned back into the conversation, a lazy, unconcerned smile gracing his lips. As Champ’s brows furrowed, though, Daisuke’s own raised slightly. Though he didn’t stop grinning, his expression became one of vague bemusement. 

“A knight?” He echoed, running his eyes over Champ’s figure. Come to think of it, he was more in shape than some of the healers he’d known… But a knight? Perhaps he was just being picky, but if Champ was a knight, he couldn’t see him being anything but a newbie at best. There was something about his countenance that just seemed… Strange to him. Yes… Champ seemed soft. Perhaps more resolute than he’d expect someone of the experience level Daisuke estimated him to be, but even so, if push came to shove, Daisuke wouldn’t trust him to be above hesitation.

…Then again, he really, really wanted the guy to be a medic. Taking time for wounds to naturally heal was a pain; sometimes he needed to be able to immediately jump back into the fray, and he sure as hell wasn’t a healing sort. 

He pouted. “A knight first and foremost, huh? Ugh, damn. Well, would you be able to heal me quickly, at least?” Slowly but surely, his dissatisfied expression morphed into a sinister, somewhat concerning grin. “I’ll count myself lucky if you can.” 

With that, the imperial stepped back, crossing his arms behind his head, his pout quickly returning. Even though he was lucky enough to be paired with a healer, it was on such a… Boring mission. He wasn’t even on a mission with Masayoshi, or even Mercury! Just… Some kid. He scuffed the ground with the tip of his boot, sulking. Come on, it wasn’t even an interesting kid! Calm? Composed? Boooooring.

[thisisreallyfuckingstupidd]

Was he doubting him? Raharlian had dealt with people sticking their nose up at him and thinking that he didn’t have what it took to be a knight. When he had first decided to go down this path, even the knights who taught the trainees drills and basic swordplay had doubted him and thought that he hadn’t belonged there. His disease was dying along with the dragons who lived under it. They were no longer mighty and powerful like they had been and now they had lost the respect that they had once held. Watching as this stranger looked over him with calculating eye, judging him in his own way; it felt like a stab to the heart. Daisuke didn’t even know Raharlian, didn’t know his situation, and yet… Rahalian huffed and frowned, shifting his weight from foot to foot, getting that odd vibe from the royal knight again. “I can heal you as well and as fast as any healer,” he answered. Raharlian was a very skilled at healing and would have made something of it if he wasn’t so determined to become a knight, but being able to heal an injured person on a mission and be able to do it well was never a bad thing. “But if you get injured, even if I do heal you, you should take it a bit easy. Wounds are difficult things.” The young knight looked away from Daisuke and over to the horizon, seeing the sun slowly begin to move away from the horizon. They probably shouldn’t delay much longer. It was a long journey and if they were to find somewhere suitable to make camp before nightfall they shouldn’t dawdle. “Do you have everything you need? If so, we should head out,” he said, looking back over to Daisuke, “We’ll be traveling a while and need to find suitable cover before nightfall.” Raharlian was still rather unsure about Daisuke, especially how… almost frightening he seemed at times. But for this mission to work, Raharlian needed to trust him. He doubted he would be able to make this journey and search by himself, and no one else had been even slightly willing to help him… Maybe he was judging the book by its cover. Oh well. He could think on that another time.

[yume-hanabi]

We love death and dying~ || Daisuke and Raharlian

[yume-hanabi]

Daisuke raised an eyebrow as the spiral approached; he hadn’t missed the fleeting frown on Raherhooheh– Champ’s– face. Well, it was less that he’d seen it and more that he’d seen the way his expression had changed as they drew closer. Judging by the light smile he wore now, he’d definitely been unhappy earlier. Well, he didn’t really care one way or the other, so long as he got to cut stuff up. 

“That’s what they call me,” the imperial confirmed, a musical lilt in his voice as he took Champ’s extended hand, his grip lazy and loose. “You’re the plague boy from Magna, yeah?” He retracted his hand at that, absentmindedly playing with the strings of his eyepatch with one hand and stifling a yawn with the other. “Think you could tell me what this mission’s about? They didn’t tell me much besides ‘hang out with Mr. Doctor Man,’ you know.” 

Then suddenly, he fell still, and though not a single muscle in his face even twitched, his gaze turned dark and serious as his smile thinned, a dangerous aura festering beneath his lackadaisical mask. That’s right… With a healer here, he could be as reckless as he wanted. He could sever limbs from bodies and have nary a scratch from retaliation remain upon him; he could feel the slice and sting of a blade burying itself within his flesh and it would mean nothing except a bloodstain and cut on his uniform; he could be on the brink of death, tasting blood in his mouth and feeling nothing but the sear of pain light up his body and it wouldn’t matter a single bit because magic could save him, could always save everyone, so why had it failed him then? Would it matter if Champ failed him, though? Would it matter if blood filled up his lungs or his body was severed into bits? Wouldn’t it just be retribution? Wasn’t it just what he dese–

And then suddenly, as quick as the writhing, toxic feelings inside of him had slid to the surface, they retreated to whence they came, leaving Daisuke staring at the face of a slightly concerned spiral. 

He smiled.

“You are a medic, right?”

[thisisreallyfuckingstupidd]

Mr. Doctor Man? What was he talking about? Champ was starting to think that this wasn’t going to go exactly how he had planned. This guy seemed a bit… Out of the loop. Oh well. Raharlian was sure he would be able to fill him in along the way. If they both had all they needed they could set off right now. And Champ knew for a fact that he had everything he would need. He wanted to be prepared and had checked and rechecked his supplies countless times last night. Hopefully this other knight was ready for the journey as well, though Champ was having his doubts. “Of course. I would have thought that they would have told you a bit more but… Well, it did take a bit of work for them to take to my proposal,” Raharlian said, mumbling the last bit to himself as his eyes cast to the side. He sighed softly and looked back to Daisuke, deciding to not dwell on it. The King had seen this whole ordeal as nothing of importance and had been reluctant to send one of his knights on a quest that in his mind would be fruitless. Besides, it was a lost cause. The red death was all but dead, hardly a single case of it appearing anywhere and Champ was one of the few left that represented the disease that was once a guaranteed death sentence. “Anyway, what we’ll be doing is traveling through the Plague, looking for the bones of one of my ancient ancestors. I… Don’t know if you really care about or need to know the reason for why I’m looking for it but that’s beside the point. I know the general location of the… burial site… But…” Champ started to trail off as he realized that one: Daisuke wasn’t listening, and two: that there was this strange vibe coming from him. Raharlian grew weary of the royal knight before him and shifted his weight to one foot as his left hand rested on the hilt of the blade that had been strapped to his hip. Raharlian didn’t want to jump to conclusions, but he felt his stomach twist as he looked at the imperial. “Daisuke..?” he called to him, wondering if the other had just gotten lost in thought, ghoulish as the thoughts must be to make the young knight grow on edge like this. “Daisuke,” he called once more, his voice holding a bit more power as he snapped his fingers. That seemed to work. The imperial snapped out of it and looked at him as though nothing had happened. “I…” he began, his brows furrowing together, “I guess I could be considered a medic. Most in the plague know how to treat festering wounds and ailments, and I’ve had more training in the art than most, but I’m a knight first and foremost.” So Daisuke hadn’t heard what he had said? Not a single word it seemed.

[yume-hanabi]

We love death and dying~ || Daisuke and Raharlian

It was early morning when Daisuke finally leaned against a column on the inn’s porch, stifling a yawn as the sunset colors dyed the sky. He’d no idea who decided it was a good idea for royal knights to always arrive promptly in the morning, but he wasn’t sure he liked them. Oh well. The bluenette yawned again, stretching out his hand in front of him and examining it with vague interest. There wasn’t much to do on a porch while waiting for someone to arrive.

He wiggled his fingers. Nope. Still not very interesting. When was this… Rahaharharhahrah kid getting here, anyways? And how long would it be until he could start slashing things up? He’d heard that Rahehrberherbher was a healer, so that’d be awfully convenient for staying alive to cut more things up.

…But then again, he didn’t really care if he died. It was long overdue, anyways. The only reason he had to stay alive was to fulfill his mission, but he couldn’t be punished if he was dead, now, could he? It was a win/win situation. 

It was then that he suddenly spotted a figure approaching the porch in the morning light, and, without hesitation, he began to wave. 

“Hey!” He yelled out lackadaisically, waving in a lazy manner. “Are you Rahoobydurba?” 

[thisisreallyfuckingstupidd]

There was always a better time to meet with someone than early in the morning: noon, afternoon, midnight. All of those were much better options than waking up at before the sun was above the horizon, but there were some cases where waking up that early was necessary. To Raharlian, the reason as to why he was up this early was an incredibly important one and the cause was dear to him. Not many others cared what happened to his plague, it had been null and nearly dead for countless years, but Raharlian knew of a way, knew of something that could bring it back and he couldn’t let his disease die out without doing a thing about it.

So Raharlian had left his home that morning with a knapsack containing necessities for the journey he would soon make; food, water, things to patch up and clean wounds. Making sure his trusty sword was strapped to his hip, he set out, off to find this royal knight who he was supposed to meet up with. He hadn’t worked with this knight before or seen him in battle, but he had to have considerable skill to hold the title he had.

Eventually, the knight made it to inn where the royal knight was staying wasn’t entirely… impressed by the one he saw waiting for him. He seemed aloof and carefree and Raharlian felt his brows tug together in a slight frown as the other called out to him. Well, there was no denying it now. This was the one he was to be working with. Might as well try to make the most of it.

“It’s Raharlian, but you can call me Champ. Everyone does,” he said as he approached him, offering a smile and holding out a gloved hand to him, “You’re Daisuke then, aren’t you?”

[yume-hanabi]

everyone in this thread is dumb [losers & losers]

[yume-hanabi]

It made a lot of sense to Lance that Arold didn’t have any pet peeves; he just seemed like one of those generally happy guys that could get along with anyone. Hell, he could even get along with Maddok (who Lance still didn’t want to dislike, but certainly wasn’t growing any fonder of). It was a nice surprise to hear that the dark haired youth’s pet peeves were things that were already rare in their household, though. While neither he nor Kris were strict in their cleanliness, they didn’t like having messes around, and so they generally cleaned up well after themselves. 

[thisisreallyfuckingstupidd]

Both of the singers had to pause a moment when Maddok took his turn, though. While they had a generally steady schedule, it still tended to fluctuate. “We work pretty similar schedules,” Lance finally answered, still figuring out how to say what needed to be said. “Our schedules can fluctuate pretty easily, though, so sometimes one or both of us will come home late. I guess we typically get home at around four or four thirty, give or take a bit.” After all, it wasn’t unusual for either of them to hang out after work with friends, and they’d probably end up hanging out together away from home more often as well. 

The blond tilted his head as he thought, the gears in his head slowly churning. There wasn’t much left that needed to be asked, but when- and how- did you just… Stop? Eventually, he just shrugged, then continued speaking. “What are your social lives like?” He paused for a moment, realizing how irrelevant his question sounded, then quickly amended himself. “Well, really what I’m concerned about is how often you’ll have other people over here.” It wasn’t that it would be bad for them to have company, but if they were going to for some reason have guests over every day, then he would definitely like to know ahead of time. 

Hm. Maybe Maddok should have thought ahead of time about his question. Those two did have the same job after all, but Maddok was more concerned with how long he would be in this house completely alone. And as it turned out, he would only be alone from.. Ten to four and sometimes later. Great. This was actually really great. He would have six hours to do what he wanted (job search, clean, sleep) in peace. Maddok liked having time to himself, and he got things done quicker when he was by himself because he wasn't distracted by people around him.

Their social lives? Why would Lance ask about.. Oh. Okay. Once Lance articulated what he really cared about, it cleared things up a bit. Arold began to answer this question, since Maddok really didn't have much of a social life to talk about. "I have a few friends down at the bar, but I'm not going to invite someone over unless it's alright with you two," he said, honestly. Arold wasn't the sort of man to invite someone to intrude on someone's home. Arold and Maddok might be renting out a space, but this house was Lance and Kris'.

"And I don't have any friends so you won't have to worry about me," Maddok responded, before he stood up with a sigh. "I think I know enough about you guys to answer a God damned questionnaire so I'm going." With that, Maddok headed back off down the hall and retreated into his and Arold's room. The older male sighed and shook his head a bit. "I'm real sorry about him.. He can be a bit of a.. Well, he can be pretty unpleasant," he told them, hating how immature Maddok could act. He was an amazing guy once you got to know him, but it was the getting to know him part that was difficult. 

[yume-hanabi]

Dorky and the Beast [Landon & Kaspar]

[yume-hanabi]

He hadn’t expected the redhead to have the guts to speak up first- it was easy to see he was intimidated- but Landon did, and when he spoke, Kaspar’s amber eyes flickered from looking at the desk to looking at him. He stared silently for a moment, mulling things over (although what there was to even think about, no one knew), then gave a noncommittal shrug. “Sure,” he mumbled, voice low and oddly fitting of his appearance. 

[thisisreallyfuckingstupidd]

The game began without fanfare and no one really paid attention to it. After all, in a game of wits, who would expect any sort of competition between a straight A student and a straight C student? But as time went on, though, a few students began to peek over at the very peculiar match as it continued on. It proceeded normally and Kaspar made no threats like some might expect- no, what drew attention was the fact that Kaspar was winning- and very handily, too. By the time the last round of questions had begun, every student who wasn’t playing a game was watching with bewildered expressions plastered on their faces. This… This punk kid was beating a straight A student at an intellectual game? It wasn’t even multiple choice…!

And then it was over. There was no fantastic sudden turnaround, nor a grand reveal of Kaspar’s nonexistent cheating ways. No, the black haired boy just… Won, quietly and without fanfare. The students were murmuring quietly in the background, surprised, and even the teacher had to wipe the utter shock off of her face. It was only when he growled a low “Who’s next?” that the class was jolted back into action, and then the next matches quickly began.

As the competition between the two continued, Landon was getting honestly shocked by this guy's performance. He was.. He was actually beating him! How though? Landon was a straight A student, how could someone like him, with grades that lacked in every way be this much smarter than him? Landon studied, and listened, and took notes, and now this guy, this punk, was being beating him at his own game! By the end of the match, Landon had been completely crushed by this guy. The red head sat in his desk, unsure of what to do now and solidly embarrassed. How could he have lost this?

Landon bit his lower lip and got up from the desk, taking a seat elsewhere so that whoever went against the punk next could take a seat. He lowered his head and started to fidget with the ends of his green hoodie. The sweatshirt was much too large for the red head, but he didn't really care; it was his favorite jacket and he was going to wear it anyway. It was soft, and warm, and most importantly, it covered his arms. Landon was extremely self conscious about showing his arms since they were dotted with dark and light freckles. He knew that wasn't necessarily a problem, but he had been picked on about it once upon a time and now he just didn't show them. When the teen lifted his head again, he noticed that the person he had lost to wasn't only still in this little competition, but he was also doing really well. Landon frowned and tried to think of how he could know so much.. Perhaps.. Perhaps he just didn't apply himself? Yes, that seems like a reasonable answer but it was still hard for him to fathom that this guy could beat him so easily! Maybe Landon just wasn't as smart as he thought..

[yume-hanabi]

everyone in this thread is dumb [losers & losers]

[yume-hanabi]

The corners of Kris’ lips tugged upwards, but he fought back the urge to smile. Instead, he simply nodded as Arold spoke. So they weren’t allergic to anything, huh? That was good; he didn’t have to be careful when baking their cookies later. Not that they needed to know that, though, nor did they seem to have caught on. Well, that was all the better for Kris, then. He didn’t even have to confront them tomorrow, since he and Lance would both be at work by the time either of them woke up. 

[thisisreallyfuckingstupidd]

While Lance shook his head at Arold’s question- he didn’t even have pollen problems in the Spring, the lucky son of a gun- Kris hesitated. He did sneeze when he first woke up in the morning, although for what reason, he didn’t know, but that wasn’t really an allergy, per se… It just sort of happened. Was it worth mentioning? After all, it didn’t really fit the bill, but it was indeed an annoying everyday occurrence. Eventually, brunet opted not to say anything; if anything, they’d figure out quickly.

It took a while for either of the musicians to figure out a legitimate question to ask, but when one dawned on Kris, his face lit up. “Are there any pet peeves of yours that we should know about? Just to avoid annoying anyone.” He couldn’t believe that he hadn’t thought of that question earlier, especially since he hated being an annoyance to someone. That feeling was only furthered by the notion that he was going to have to live with these people for a good while. 

So no one in the house had any allergies? Well, that was pretty good news if you asked either of them; they wouldn't have to worry about avoiding anything. They would be free to use their hand sanitizer and possibly smell like dog without causing one of their housemates to potentially die, though both Arold and Maddok practically died in the Spring. There were certain things that just didn't settle well with the two, and one of them was flowers.

"Hm," Arold voice, frowning just a bit as he thought. Pet peeves.. Pet.. peeves.. There wasn't much that annoyed Arold, other than Maddok, so he didn't necessarily have any pet peeves. The man shook his head and looked to his landlords. "I can't say that I actually have any.. There isn't much that gets on my nerves," he said, looking over to Maddok so that he would know that he was expected to answer. The dark haired teen looked to Arold when he felt his eyes on him and sighed, "I don't like messes," he said, "And I can't stand dirty dishes." 

Maddok shifted in his seat, already getting tired of this little game. If something was truly important they would find out about it as they lived together; asking questions like this was dull and a waste of time in his eyes. "Arold works pretty late most days, so what time do you guys get home exactly?" he asked, not really caring how late they worked but.. Damn, he didn't want to be left alone in some strangers house until midnight.

[yume-hanabi]

Dorky and the Beast [Landon & Kaspar]

Kaspar had never been one to really participate in class; whether it be homework or the unit test, he just never did anything. Well, he supposed he tried a little harder on the tests than he did on everything else, since he couldn’t really allow himself to fail classes. Either way, he was a lazy student, and his grade reflected as much. In fact, in every single class, he had a very mediocre C. If his teachers were at all observant, they might have wondered how he managed to keep it so consistently average, but… They didn’t. 

Back onto the topic of class participation, though, the one thing that Kaspar could never avoid was a class activity. Group activities, maybe- he could mention one or two things and get counted as an active participant- but never a class one. They were his least favorite kind of activity, and that was just what everyone was doing today: a history competition. Students would be put into pairs and answer questions, and the one who answered more correctly would move on to the next round. It was a relatively boring activity, but the idea of it was tolerable; he just had to answer what he knew. Surely he wouldn’t be the smartest kid in the class, after all. 

So Kaspar found himself with his desk facing the one of a redhead that he remembered was much shorter than he was. He had a mop of curly hair upon his head and freckles splashed across his face, and if Kaspar remembered correctly, he was relatively smart. He hadn’t observed the guy much more than that, though- all he knew was that he was named ‘Landon.’ Well, whatever. The black haired teen gave a short nod to his opponent, amber eyes as cold and indifferent as usual. He took a moment to brush his bangs out of his face (even with half of his head shaved, he had hair troubles), then folded his arms. If he was going to be pitting his wits against this guy’s, he supposed he could give him a respectable match. It wasn’t like he would win, after all. 

[thisisreallyfuckingstupidd]

Group Projects were probably one of the things hat every high school student dreaded. They were bland, a waste of a class period, and more than likely you would get paired up with someone you absolutely despised. And though a certain Landon Walker wasn't particularly fond of any sort of group activity, he at least wasn't paired up with some he hated. Actually, he was paired up with someone he hardly even knew. Landon had seen this.. 'punk' before, of course, but he had never been this close to him (and it was a bit terrifying).

Landon was a straight A student, and had never gotten anything below a B (except for that one awful time). Grades were something very important to him and he always took them seriously, they weren't something that should be half assed. One thing that really got on Landon's nerves was when people acted like grades and education were pointless. Yes, they weren't the most important thing, and they weren't always a good representation of someone's intellect, but they were still pretty important.

Back to the punk Landon was paired up with; the red head knew that he didn't have the greatest grades on Earth, and he honestly didn't seem like he would be that intelligent. Landon was sure that he would be able to make to the next 'level' of this little questionnaire. He shifted in his desk and looked up at the punk, feeling a bit nervous around him. He wasn't going to admit it to him, but he found this guy intimidating, very intimidating. "So.. I guess.. I guess we should get started?" he asked, his voice soft and nervous. 

[yume-hanabi]

everyone in this thread is dumb [losers & losers]

[yume-hanabi]

While Arold and Maddok seemed to have been taken off guard by Kris’ question, Lance knew exactly what his childhood friend was thinking about, and though he feigned a questioning glance towards him, Kris only smiled back at him; he knew the offer of accompaniment to the grocery store was there, and he accepted it gratefully with a simple upwards quirk of his lips. The brunet turned his gaze back towards Arold and Maddok, nodding.”Thank you,” he murmured in response, flashing a brief smile at the both of them.

[thisisreallyfuckingstupidd]

Upon hearing their question, though, his expression morphed into one of confusion, and he looked back to Lance. “When did we meet…?” He asked him quietly, and then it was the blond’s turn to look confused. His brows furrowed and he leaned back into the seat again, fingers now drumming restlessly against the arm of the love seat. “It was at that playground,” he muttered, and Kris tilted his head.

"Sunflower Patch..?"

"Yeah. Yeah, that one." 

"It was Summer, obviously, so weren’t we both…?"

"Both.. Yeah, yeah, we were. That game had just come out!" Lance turned back to face Arold and Maddok, looking much less confused than he had a few moments ago. "We’ve known each other for about seventeen years, give or take. We met as kids, so… Yeah." Kris nodded to reaffirm his statement, holding up five fingers before returning to how he’d been sitting before, and Lance cleared his throat. "Are you guys allergic to anything?" It really was an important question after all, though the only reason he remembered to ask it was… Well, Kris and his friendly baking tendencies.

Both Arold and Maddok watched as Kris and Lance spoke back and forth. Just from this little conversation the two had with each other, it was easy to tell that they had known each other for a while. And the answer they received was only confirmation for this assumption. Child hood friends.. Well, the two really fit the bill. They both held the same job, and were even sharing a place together.

At the allergy question, Maddok glanced over to his friend. Neither of the two were really allergic to anything, but during every season the wasn't summer, Maddok's immune system seemed to plummet, and he would get dreadfully sick. And though Arold didn't have allergies, he did have a bit of a sinus problem during the spring. Would they have to tell them all of that? Probably not. The question was if they were allergic to anything, which they weren't.

"No, not really," Arold answered with a shake of his head, "I have a bit of a sinus problem when it comes to pollen, but it's nothing too serious." Arold had decided against telling them about Maddok's issues because it wasn't a suitable answer for the question. The dark haired teen simply got sick a lot.

"And what about you two? Are either of you allergic to anything?" he asked. Knowing your housemates allergies was an extremely important subject to know about because for all Arold knew they could be allergic to hand sanitizer or something.

[yume-hanabi]

everyone in this thread is dumb [losers & losers]

[yume-hanabi]

He thought? Kris blinked once at Arold’s lack of certainty, then shook it off. After all, once you’d known someone for a while, it sometimes became hard to keep track of just how old they really were. On the other hand, it was interesting to learn that Arold was older than him, albeit not by much. Actually, they were all within the same age group (with the exception of Maddok), which Kris considered to be lucky. He wouldn’t have wanted to room with a fifty year old or something- he had nothing against them, but… Yeah. 

[thisisreallyfuckingstupidd]

Lance, on the other hand, was just the slightest bit puzzled. If Maddok was nineteen, then why was he hanging around and renting space with a twenty-three year old? It was a bit strange, but at least his less than mature behavior was explained by his less than mature age. He nodded, the information now stored away in his brain, and rested his head on his hand.  ”I’m twenty-three,” he said casually, then glanced at Kris to indicate that it was his turn to speak. 

"I’m twenty-two," Kris murmured, wondering for a moment if he should mention just how soon he was going to have his birthday. It wasn’t incredibly soon, but it definitely wasn’t far off, either. After a moment of debate, though, he decided against it, instead simply smiling cheerily. He had just come up with an idea to welcome his new housemates to their abode, and while there were other, more subtle ways to find out what he needed to know, he there was no need for incredible tact. "What kinds of cookies do you guys like?"

So it seemed they were all in the same age group, minus a certain nineteen year old. This was actually a good thing in Arold's eyes. They wouldn't be living with people who were too young, or people who were insanely old. There wasn't anything wrong with the elderly, but things might be a bit strange if the two had to live with people who were in their sixties. 

It was a bit strange how someone only nineteen was renting out a place with a twenty three year old, but Arold and Maddok didn't think anything of it. The two were very close friends so age was often over looked by them. But when they stopped and actually thought about it, they too had to agree that it was a bit odd. It didn't stop them from living together and being as close as they were though.

Kris' question caught both Maddok and Arold off guard, and Maddok stopped being a little bitch long enough to look over to the brunette. "Cookie?" Maddok asked, a bit confused by that. How was that anything important? It's not like they could tell if either Arold or himself were mass murderers just by what kind of cookies they liked. "Well.. I like macadamia nut cookies," he answered, still not sure why this was asked about. Arold was also a bit taken aback by this question, but he just answered without a second thought. "Just the typical chocolate chip," he said before he asked his question, "Now, how long have you two known each other?" 

[yume-hanabi]

everyone in this thread is dumb [losers & losers]

[yume-hanabi]

It took a few moments for Kris’ face to return to a normal color; for some reason, the question had had a strong effect on him, although he didn’t know why. Once he managed to stop stammering, though, he scratched the back of his head sheepishly, a bit embarrassed and very glad for the distraction Arold’s answer provided him. It was an interesting answer, too- he hadn’t thought that the two would have had mutual friends, although it didn’t completely take him by surprise, either. They just seemed… Well, they seemed rather far apart in age for high school standards, at least. 

[thisisreallyfuckingstupidd]

Lance met Arold’s eyes as the man talked, waiting for the question he would be asked- or they; it didn’t always have to be one person- and silently being pleased that the young teen had received something akin to a warning. Upon hearing it, though, he shook his head. “I can’t cook, but Kris is pretty good at it,” he replied, eyes flickering over to said man for a second. A small smile tugged at his lips, but he returned his gaze to their new housemates sitting on the couch. 

"I’m better at baking," Kris mumbled quickly, unsure of how to react. It wasn’t like he wasn’t used to Lance saying that, especially since he could barely cook at all, but having him say that in front of people that were practically strangers (right now)… He didn’t know what to do. It was embarrassing somehow, and he quickly averted his gaze to the side. 

Lance shrugged. “Either way,” he said dismissively, then fell silent without finishing his thought. “Well… Hm. …How old are you guys?”

When told that Kris was good at cooking, both Arold and Maddok looked over to him. Kris did have that feel about him that he could do some sort of cooking, whether it be baking or otherwise. Arold had absolutely no skill in the kitchen whatsoever, unless microwaveable meals counted as cooking. All the meal preparing was handing off to Maddok, who wasn't half bad at it, even though he didn't completely enjoy it.

Arold nodded when Kris said he was better at baking. Making cakes, cookies, and pies was rather neat in Arold's opinion, but to him, anything that involved cooking was an interesting skill to have. Maddok didn't think it was very interesting at all. He could bake. Woo. The teen rolled his eyes and looked away from his two landlords, finding something else to look at. Like the floor. Or that window.

"How old?," Arold repeated, "Well, I'm twenty-three and Maddok's.. nineteen, I think." Knowing each other's age was a pretty important thing to know about each other. One, there was the deal with alcohol, which Maddok will not be able to legally to drink, and two, it was just... Something important to know. When his name was mentioned, Maddok looked over to Arold for a second before he looked back over to the window. They could have fun with their gay ass question game; he wasn't going to have any part of it any more.

"And you? How old are you two?" he asked in return. Arold leaned forward in his seat and rested his elbows on his knees, his hands hanging down.

[yume-hanabi]

everyone in this thread is dumb [losers & losers]

[yume-hanabi]

Nothing Maddok said came as a surprise, although Lance was admittedly pleased to see just how awkward the dark haired youth was. He didn’t dislike him, he just… Didn’t like him. Really. He just enjoyed seeing him squirm, that was all. He didn’t really know why; all he knew was that Maddok didn’t seem to like Kris, which meant that he didn’t seem to like Maddok. Either the feeling was mutual or Maddok just had no social grace whatsoever (although Lance had a feeling that it was a little bit- or a lot a bit- of both), because his question for them was less than tactful: “Are you two gay together?”

[thisisreallyfuckingstupidd]

Kris’ response was immediate: a bright, flushed face and a shocked stammer of “H-huh?”. He had never been directly asked that question, although the situation was quite different for Lance (if he had fifty hands he still couldn’t count all the times), and it showed in how poorly he handled the question. Lance, although his cheeks reddened slightly, simply shook his head and sighed. It sounded almost wistful, and if Kris hadn’t been too preoccupied by embarrassment, he would have noticed. Luckily, though, he didn’t, instead barely managing a question that sounded something like ‘why would you think that’. 

"No, we’re not," Lance replied, voice as calm and collected as it had been for the past hour. He was used to this sort of question by now, and the only thing that was new was that Kris was freaking out beside him. He was tempted to ask ‘are you?’, but managed to bite it back, if only for the sake of keeping Kris sane. Instead, he figured he’d opt for a plainer question to somewhat diffuse the situation. “How’d you two meet?”

The reaction Maddok got from Kris was... Not what he expected. The teen had expected a.. more straight forward answer than this bimbo getting all flustered. God, it was only a question. Why was he freaking out so much? Maddok gave Kris a disconcerted look before he shifted his eyes over to Lance, guessing that he would have a more practical answer. He did, though Maddok could tell that he was a flaming homosexual for that flustered blob next to him. And just by how Kris was acting, he assumed that he might as well have feelings for Lance too. 

To be quite honest, Arold hadn't been expecting that question to come from Maddok's lips. He knew that the dark haired brat could be blunt and straight forward, but he he hadn't been expecting him to ask that of all things. Arold looked over to Maddok with a scolding look, but it went ignored. "Maddok, I told you.." he warned, getting a sigh in response. Arold shook his head and looked over to Lance.

"We met a few years back, when Maddok was still in high school, through some mutual friends," Arold answered before he glanced over to Maddok, who was leaning back against the couch and looking to his lap. "Can either of you cook?" he asked.

[yume-hanabi]

everyone in this thread is dumb [losers & losers]

[yume-hanabi]

As Arold explained his and Maddok’s current job positions, Kris could only nod silently. He had never been friends with a bartender before, but he certainly wasn’t against it. In fact, he was almost looking forward to it; it seemed like it might be fun. He didn’t know how much money they earned, though, and while Maddok’s current unemployment didn’t bother him, he certainly hoped that it wouldn’t prove to be troublesome for them. After all, constantly paying rent and buying food drained a lot of a person’s funds, and- well, it wasn’t his place to be worrying about their financial situation. Not yet, at least.

[thisisreallyfuckingstupidd]

However, when it came time for him to answer the job question, the brunet could feel the heat beginning to rise to his cheeks. It wasn’t that he was ashamed of his job- rather, he loved it fiercely and with a passion- but it felt odd to mention in passing. Lance didn’t seem to share his friend’s apprehension, though. “We’re both singers, actually,” he murmured, his tone strangely casual for a man who had actually released an album. “Same company and all that, so we usually work close to the same hours.” 

This whole question thing was going to take a while to not be awkward, Lance surmised, leaning onto the armrest and frowning thoughtfully. Now that the easiest question was out of the way, what on Earth was he supposed to ask next? Everything he could come up with just sounded… Well, awkward. After a few seconds of debate, though, the blond threw caution to the wind. “Hm,” he hummed, cerulean eyes flickering between his two new housemates. “What are your sleep schedules like?” It didn’t matter to him that the question sounded awkward, because it really was relevant and that was nothing to be embarrassed over. 

Arold was the first to respond to Kris and Lance's occupation. "Really? That's pretty interesting," he said truthfully, finding out that his landlords were singers was actually pretty interesting. At least if they sang in the shower Arold knew that they wouldn't be too terrible. Maddok, on the other hand, he didn't particularly care that they were singers. Yes, he did find it a bit shocking, because the two honestly didn't look like they would be the singing type. But he hadn't ever heard their names before so he didn't think that they were anyone too important.

The next question shocked the brat more than the answer they had received from Lance. Why would he ask about their sleep schedules? Wasn't that a bit.. weird? Maddok shifted a bit and waited for Arold to answer them, but the blonde just looked at him and spoke, "Go on. I'm not going to answer all the questions." The youngest looked over to him with a harsh glare before he huffed and crossed his arms. This might be seen as a little childish, but he honestly didn't care right now. He had no desire to ask these people anything or answer their questions.

"Well," he began, a bit of embarrassment seeping in. This was the first time he had actually spoken to them, and he was sure he was either going to make a bigger ass of himself or sound like a complete idiot. "Arold.. doesn't sleep that late. He's normally up by eight and hardly ever stays up that late. I don't really have an actual sleep schedule," he answered before he let out a sigh and looked towards Kris and Lance. His expression took on the beginnings of a scowl and he held no reservations in the next words that came from his mouth: "Are you two gay together?"

[yume-hanabi]

everyone in this thread is dumb [losers & losers]

[yume-hanabi]

Upon hearing Arold’s question, Kris blinked. Which one of them should be the one to start…? He honestly wasn’t sure. After a moment of thought, though, he gave a quiet chuckle- more of a soft exhale than a laugh- and smiled. It seemed to be simple common courtesy for either him or Lance to go first, seeing as they were the ones who owned the house. He didn’t want to burden Lance, either. “I guess I’ll go first then?” 

[thisisreallyfuckingstupidd]

The brunet’s fingers began to drum restlessly against his knee as he wracked his brain for answers- or rather, questions. It would be awkward to ask something personal, but he didn’t want to ask something bland or pointless. Suddenly, the perfect question dawned on him, and he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his head tilted slightly. “Do either of you have a job?” 

Lance, in contrast to his childhood friend, leaned back in his seat and simply observed. His expression, however, did not betray his ‘analyzations’ of them; he merely looked curious. What were these people like, and what could he learn from the way they acted? Probably not much, but you never knew. 

When Kris acknowledged that he would be the one to go first, Maddok held back an eye roll. He wasn't entirely sure why, but he really didn't like this guy. Perhaps it was because he had such a low tolerance for certain kinds of people and Kris appeared to be that certain kind of person. He seemed too friendly and a bit annoying, but he had told Arold that he would behave himself, so he would at least try to not out right tell the brunette his opinions.

Upon hearing the question, however, he glanced over at Arold. Questions like this always made him uncomfortable (because he couldn't keep a job), but Arold thrived in them. The man loved his job, even though he only worked as a bartender at some place on Main St., and loved the discount he got on drinks as well. Arold shifted in his seat and leaned forward a bit. "I do. I work down at the bar on Main Street," he said, casting a glance over to Maddok before he continued, "Maddok's still looking for one, but hopefully he can find one soon." Arold didn't mind too much that Maddok didn't have a job; he was perfectly okay with taking care of him simply because he wasn't an expensive person to take care of. 

As Maddok's unemployment was mention, he shifted uncomfortably. he honestly hated not being able to carry his own weight. But when someone was as hard to get along with as Maddok, finding a job tripled in difficulty. "So I guess it's my turn to ask then?" Arold questioned before he carried on, "So.. What about you two? Do either of you have a job?" 

[yume-hanabi]

everyone in this thread is dumb [losers & losers]

[yume-hanabi]

It was nice of Arold to accept their offer, but Kris couldn’t miss Maddok’s indignant protest. A wave of guilt crashed over him, and he glanced away, silent but apologetic.”You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” he repeated quietly, almost to himself, then- as if that second of sadness had never existed- smiled at Arold. “That’s what I was thinking,” he laughed, turning and walking back into the living room. There was a couch and a love seat arranged into an ‘L’ shape, a small side table acting as a joint. A coffee table rested between the seating and the television, which was on, but quiet- almost mute. 

[thisisreallyfuckingstupidd]

Kris didn’t even hesitate in forfeiting his previous seat on the couch, opting instead to sit on the love seat; Lance sat down beside him as if it were the most natural thing in the world. It wasn’t that either of them wanted to exclude Arold and Maddok, but Kris simply wanted to give them the larger seat. After all, he didn’t know yet how they liked to sit or if they needed room, and he definitely didn’t mind sitting next to Lance. 

Lance simply wanted to sit by Kris.

Neither of them, however, were quite sure of how to start. They all already knew each other’s names, which was a start, but what would they need to mention beyond that? It wasn’t as if they were well-versed in talking about themselves, and they sure as hell didn’t know what their new housemates wanted to know and what they considered irrelevant. Suddenly, Kris perked up, amber eyes shining. “You know, what if we turned this into a game of sorts? Where we ask each other questions and stuff. That way, we won’t drone on and mention stuff no one cares about.” It sounded a bit childish, sure, but it was potentially a much more fun way to get to know each other. 

When Kris repeated the statement that they didn’t have to if they didn’t want to, it went mostly without a reaction, though that didn’t mean that it slipped past Maddok’s ears. He heard what the brunette had said but simply chose not to say anything in reply, having a feeling that he would make himself come across as rude yet again, even though he did think a few harsh things about Arold, who wouldn’t let him skip out on this. Arold and Maddok followed Kris into the living room, guessing that that was where they were going to be holding this ‘get to know each other’ event. The living room was rather nice actually. It seemed comfortable and was very well decorated; not too much, not too little. Arold made his way over to the couch with Maddok close behind. He took a seat on the edge closest to the loveseat and his younger friend flopped down close beside him. If the two were alone, there was no doubt that Arold would have some part of his body on Maddok, whether it be his arm thrown over his shoulders or a hand on his leg. The two weren’t dating or anything, Arold was just very open with friendship and liked contact. Maddok normally hated this, being touched in any way, shape, form, or  fashion, but when it came to Arold, he guessed he didn’t mind as much.

Since no one was really saying or doing anything for a moment, the two sat there for a moment, both waiting for someone to take the initiative. So when Kris finally spoke up, the two looked over at him, one with a smile. “That’s seems like a pretty good idea,” Arold said as he shifted a bit on the couch, facing his landlords, “So who so you think should go first?” As Arold said this, Maddok wished that he didn’t have to do this. He was fine with answering pointless questions, but asking them? That was a bit out of his comfort zone.