Howard Bassem (
iselldrugstothecommunity) wrote in
thecapitol2013-05-29 08:37 pm
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I'm Down Shouting Names at the Flickering Screen [Open]
WHO| Howard and anyone!
WHAT| Howard decides to get serious about the Games.
WHERE| Tribute Lounge
WHEN| Post-Arena
WARNINGS| Swearing.
There's been enough hiding. There's been enough moping. Howard knows that this feeling of motivation is fleeting, and that just means he has to cling to his productivity for as long as he can before it slips back into despair. Before he thinks about how he's going to die again. Before he wonders where Eponine is. Before he thinks about how she left him like his parents did. Before he cries.
So instead of feeling that, he's going to feel something else. He's going to feel entertained. And possibly, he'll learn something along the way; it's about time he forces himself to study. About time he moves past the squeamish feelings of seeing people he knows bleed and scream on the screen and actually starts taking notes on who to ally with and who to stab in the back, or, potentially, in the front.
He sits in a Tribute lounge with snacks, feet propped up on a glass coffee table, starving body covered in comfy clothes his stylists won't let him wear outside, a fluffy blue bathrobe and canvas cargo pants. His hand periodically moves from its path between bowl of snacks and his mouth to grab a cup of melted butter.
He doesn't care how tacky or unhealthy is it. He covers that bowl of popcorn in butter and plops down on the couch, munching away at it as he watches Wesker and Maximus attack each other.
WHAT| Howard decides to get serious about the Games.
WHERE| Tribute Lounge
WHEN| Post-Arena
WARNINGS| Swearing.
There's been enough hiding. There's been enough moping. Howard knows that this feeling of motivation is fleeting, and that just means he has to cling to his productivity for as long as he can before it slips back into despair. Before he thinks about how he's going to die again. Before he wonders where Eponine is. Before he thinks about how she left him like his parents did. Before he cries.
So instead of feeling that, he's going to feel something else. He's going to feel entertained. And possibly, he'll learn something along the way; it's about time he forces himself to study. About time he moves past the squeamish feelings of seeing people he knows bleed and scream on the screen and actually starts taking notes on who to ally with and who to stab in the back, or, potentially, in the front.
He sits in a Tribute lounge with snacks, feet propped up on a glass coffee table, starving body covered in comfy clothes his stylists won't let him wear outside, a fluffy blue bathrobe and canvas cargo pants. His hand periodically moves from its path between bowl of snacks and his mouth to grab a cup of melted butter.
He doesn't care how tacky or unhealthy is it. He covers that bowl of popcorn in butter and plops down on the couch, munching away at it as he watches Wesker and Maximus attack each other.
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"Hey, Moody. I know what ice cream is. I dare you to eat a whole scoop at once." He takes a handful of popcorn and swallows it mechanically.
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Oh it was the man who had given her spear fighting tips, she liked him, and the man who won. "Do you be wanting to be fighting him?" She pointed at Maximus, Wesker had won so no longer was a threat. But she could understand why Howard would want to study Maximus, he was really strong.
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"Yeah, me fight him. You do realize he could use me as a toothpick, right? And probably after eating you for breakfast?"
He takes a handful of popcorn and crams it in his mouth.
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She shrugged, he did seem very strong, if she were to go against him she'd have to be very sneaky, and fast. "Maybe if we did be finding a way to be poisoning him first."
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And like Pruna.
"I don't got plans to kill anyone. Just to avoid them. Let the muttations and the psychos deal with them all."
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"But what if they do be finding you? You should be having plans or you will be dying again."
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But she heard a noise and saw one of the stupid hair people standing up, she remembered the (daily) lecture from her escort about how she was under no circumstances to attack anyone outside of the arena.
So she resorted to kicking him in the shin and sticking her tongue out. "I do no even be wanting your food."
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He takes a seat on the armrest of the couch, feet pointed towards her.
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Then he starts laughing.
"You know how to swear?"
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Why was he laughing at her. If Karkat had taught her a stupid word that got her laughed at she was going to kill him.
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"Does fucking be being a curse then?" She grinned, Karkat hadn't told her that, but he was forgiven. She liked him even more.
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Howard looks positively delighted at the idea of teaching Moody Blues to drop some four-letter bombs on TV.
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"Well, I'm a big fan of 'asshole', but 'douchebag' and 'fuckhead' have a nice ring to them."
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"Well, most swear phrases are made up by sticking individual curse words together. When you learn them all, you can start combining them, like Legos. Then you get some good ones, like cocksucking motherfucking cumdumpster and goddamn smacktarded son of a whore. But you want to save the really long chains for certain occasions, because usually when you really want to get a reaction, you need to just like, bam." He gestures with his hands. "Precision fuck-strike."
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She was used to long curse strings, the one's in her own world could go on for ages. But she liked these ones, she grinned even if she didn't understand the words, they sounded good. "So if I do be really hating someone and be wanting them to be really knowing it I would be calling them a goddamn smacktarded son of a whore but if I do just be wanting to be making someone angry or cursing them in battle I would be calling them a fuckhead."
She is the best student.
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Howard listens to Pruna recite it back and nods. "Exactly. Exactly like that. And curses mean more if it's something the person's already insecure about, like how good they are at sex."
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But if it was something she could insult people about, then she was interested.
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