Prince Hans of The Southern Isles (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
hanssome) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thecapitol2014-04-30 03:35 am
hanssome) wrote in thecapitol2014-04-30 03:35 am
Entry tags:
the sky is awake
WHO| Hans and Starkiller [closed]
WHAT| Look friend, I didn't die like we all thought I would.
WHEN| Backdated to directly after the mini-arena.
WHERE| D3, Starkillers lameass room.
WARNINGS| Talk of murders? What is this, the hunger games??
He made it. He knew he would. Sort of. When it had been revealed as a tactical arena, he'd been confident, but it had taken stooping to some old lows to come out as one of a few victors. The promise of permanent death had thrown him through a loop, but of course it had been a filthy lie. He's irritated that he couldn't detect the joke in it all, that he'd compromised himself severely for no real reason. But he made it. At least he can say that.
For a variety of reasons, he isn't interested in seeing many people. He doesn't want to face judgement or surprise and he doesn't want to hear about how he was fooled. He figures he'll lounge in bed until someone pesters him, but when nobody comes he can't help seeking out the attention he craves. It's still early for a lot of people, probably a little earlier than he'd even had training sessions. He hadn't even glanced at the time, he'd just allowed his restlessness to guide him up out of bed and down the halls. He acts as if he doesn't have a particular place in mind, but he's taking a quite pointed trip to District Three. After all he's been through, he thinks some gloating is in order. He'll even pretend not to be a little crestfallen that he wasn't called upon first. Now who's being lazy?
He raps at the door politely, only now realising how severely early it is. He doesn't want to bother anyone else in the dorm. Just Starkiller. He's owed a lot of bothering, he thinks. He'll knock once more when the other man doesn't answer, the impatience almost apparent in the way he gently beats his knuckles rapidly on the door. The tables have turned, it seems. It's time for him to be wildly inappropriate and enter Starkiller's room when any normal person would be asleep. He absolutely refuses to walk back to his dorm after inconveniencing himself with the trip.
It's a strange sight, seeing the other man seem so absolutely, blissfully peaceful. Hans can't help admiring how incredibly stupid he looks before he takes his spare pillow into his hand, edges closer and brings the cushiony object down on the other man with all the force he can muster.
WHAT| Look friend, I didn't die like we all thought I would.
WHEN| Backdated to directly after the mini-arena.
WHERE| D3, Starkillers lameass room.
WARNINGS| Talk of murders? What is this, the hunger games??
He made it. He knew he would. Sort of. When it had been revealed as a tactical arena, he'd been confident, but it had taken stooping to some old lows to come out as one of a few victors. The promise of permanent death had thrown him through a loop, but of course it had been a filthy lie. He's irritated that he couldn't detect the joke in it all, that he'd compromised himself severely for no real reason. But he made it. At least he can say that.
For a variety of reasons, he isn't interested in seeing many people. He doesn't want to face judgement or surprise and he doesn't want to hear about how he was fooled. He figures he'll lounge in bed until someone pesters him, but when nobody comes he can't help seeking out the attention he craves. It's still early for a lot of people, probably a little earlier than he'd even had training sessions. He hadn't even glanced at the time, he'd just allowed his restlessness to guide him up out of bed and down the halls. He acts as if he doesn't have a particular place in mind, but he's taking a quite pointed trip to District Three. After all he's been through, he thinks some gloating is in order. He'll even pretend not to be a little crestfallen that he wasn't called upon first. Now who's being lazy?
He raps at the door politely, only now realising how severely early it is. He doesn't want to bother anyone else in the dorm. Just Starkiller. He's owed a lot of bothering, he thinks. He'll knock once more when the other man doesn't answer, the impatience almost apparent in the way he gently beats his knuckles rapidly on the door. The tables have turned, it seems. It's time for him to be wildly inappropriate and enter Starkiller's room when any normal person would be asleep. He absolutely refuses to walk back to his dorm after inconveniencing himself with the trip.
It's a strange sight, seeing the other man seem so absolutely, blissfully peaceful. Hans can't help admiring how incredibly stupid he looks before he takes his spare pillow into his hand, edges closer and brings the cushiony object down on the other man with all the force he can muster.