[SO HE'S GONNA FUCK QUEEN ELIZABETH?? HE'S GOING TO GIVE THAT OLD BAG A GOOD DICKING??? WOW!!! Baroqueheat needs to be in the deepest, dankest jail cell in all of England, immediately. What a sick fuck. It's no surprise his thirst would go so far...
He knows some restraint. Lupin had the feeling he could train him. This must be how Fujiko feels all the time....
but then his face meets Lupin's ass and it's all over. He twists that wrist]
Well if you cost me this pretty prize, that won't be the most vital bone I'm breaking in you. Huh, it's not actually a bone though...
[ Baroqueheat, the first person to attempt to motorboat Lupin's ass. Goodbye, that last untainted inch of Lupin's dignity.
He could have yelped, but he clamps down on it with herculean force; instead of yelling into the ether, he yells muffledly into the fold of Lupin's dress. On his ass. This is the worst thing in the world. ]
Please, Hi-tan needs that to show all the other lions in the territory who's boss...!
[ That actually winds up sounding more like "pleeth, Hi-than needth that to..." We don't have to elaborate on why. ]
Of everything the master thief has ever experienced, he can't say another grown man yelping into his ass in distress is something he's ever had the displeasure of knowing intimately until this very moment. Where's a time machine when you need it?? It's a sensation that makes him shiver, makes him yelp in turn, makes the remainder of his soul crumble to ash right there in the vent.]
What was that? You want this up your own bum~? I didn't know you were so daring, Hi-tan! Why don't you sit here and think about what your plans are for the future while I decide whether or not I'm telling my hubby about this.
[Get real, he's never fucking telling Jigen or anyone about this.]
I thought your hubby wasn't the jealous type?! I'm sure he doesn't want you to become a deviant, so let's practice a little peace before you snap off my piece!
[ Nudging...that ass with his head, which is his idea of how best to offer this olive branch. That, and his wrist is currently on the verge of breaking off, and he needs the other one to brace himself in this vent.
Through a nearby grate, he can see the room below, full of glass cases and sealed boxes. If only he can get there with his dick intact... this task is proving more difficult than he anticipated. ]
Oh, he doesn't get jealous of my free spiritedness-- but he's a whole 'nother character entirely when it means getting between him and a good deal.
[Ah yes, that sounds pleasant enough~ Even with the creak Baroqueheat's bones are making with every twist!! What a beautiful sound, what a resentful sound! If this dumbass hadn't shown up, face ON HIS DAMN ASS Lupin would have had the goods by now instead of his own goods getting fondled.
It couldn't hurt him to listen, could it? He gives that shitty wrist another wrench forward]
[ Lupin will have more than Hi-tan's face on his ass to worry about in a second, because the shitlord is reaching behind his back (using every ounce of ab strength he has to keep himself upright by his knees and his head braced on Lupin's plush rump) to tug out his roll of rope.
Why rope? How could this possibly used to ameliorate this situation?
The answer is that he's going to try to use it to tie Lupin's feet together. Rest in fucking pieces, Baroqueheat. ]
—I show you a little bit of what I learned in the circus, and you can be really impressed by it!
[ Words still muffled because he's balancing himself thanks to the aid of Lupin's lovely bum. ]
[WHY THE FUCK DID HE THINK TO BELIEVE THIS IDIOT?! First his ass now his feet?! He's going to try to look up the skirt, isn't he? Anger settles like lead at the bottom of Lupin's stomach.
There's a deep gust of wind that's definitely Lupin sighing as he shifts into a sitting position, saving his ass (literally) and then, he kicks out with both feet]
Oh my, what fun! But I'm against what they do to you animals in there-- peanuts are not the way to have a proper, well rounded diet. Also, I'm charging you a thousand bucks, by the way~
[ The sound that follows that kick is a very loud, very audible rolling of flesh and bone against hard metal plating. If only he weren't built so sturdily, he might have done the world a favor and perished.
"Plan 1: Mission Impossible That Shit" is turning out to be an abysmal failure, which he reflects upon with his face shoved into dust and possibly rat shit. ]
A thousand bucks for what?!
[ At this point, he doesn't give a fuck about possibly alerting the others to their presence; he has a feeling that he's contending with someone far more tricky than a few goons with guns. ]
That's it, Hi-tan's gonna start playing dirty...!
[ as if everything before this was clean?! god help them both. ]
A thousand bucks for that motorboating! You'll never sail ever again after I'm through with you.
[Is what he snarls over one pale shoulder before he's off again, snagging his One Night Nuisance's rope and crawling forward over to his grate to paradise. Taking the time to open it, lightning quick, he sets it aside and from the recesses of that skirt? Retrieves a full assault of climbing equipment. It takes a couple of seconds to secure himself to the vent and tug at the harness around his waist twice to make sure everything's honky dory.
(Nothing is honky dory. What the fuck is this situation)
Then he scoots that magnificent bottom to the edge of the vent for the last tip over the cliff, as it were.
The most disgusting giggle leaves his lips, and he even rubs his hands together gleefully.]
[ To be fair, a thousand dollars is actually pretty generous given that Baroqueheat's probably scarred Lupin for life...
The current lack of a rope's taken the fun out of things, really. He didn't need it, as demonstrated by the fact that he sighs and swordhands his way out of the vent, carves a hole in the metal (he's not paying for building damage) and drops down like a cat, but you know. It was the feeling that he was going for. The mood! How cruel of the Don's dame to take that away from him. He'd sue if she weren't so lovely.
(What he doesn't know...)
When he drops down, surprisingly silent despite the considerable fall, he makes sure to look up and grin cheekily at Lupin.
[He's going to be paying out the ass, almost not metaphorically, then.
While he's moseying his way down, plunge by jerky plunge of rope length, way too slow for his own liking and the liking of this hiking of the damn skirt. And when he looks up again that little bastard is slicing his way through the goddamn metal in order to drop down!! What the hell--
Growling under his breath, the master thief throws caution to the wind and drops down as well, moderately graceful, and waves his fist threateningly at Baroqueheat, mouthing back:
Go to hell!
They're down to the final countdown. Lupin lunges.]
[ He sees that and reads those lips as "bro you're swell". Yeah, he agrees.
But he'll have to give it to her, she's gutsy: she jumps (pretend not to see how he's craning his neck to see if he can sneak a peek) and scrambles for the case with the diamond necklace in it, which Baroqueheat also dives for.
His hand touches the cold exterior of that metal trunk, and he whispers to his competitor: ]
I'll show you rocks that are bigger than these later, so how about you let go?
[he's going to have a swell in a second and it's going to be his FACE....
red, red nails tap, tap, tap against metal, a haunting sound of excitement and anticipation in the otherwise quiet room. A node of electricity, the calm before the shitstorm, races up Lupin's spine, despite this little bothersome fucking mosquito.
red, red lips give way to a toothy smile:]
What are you going to do, rub em against your five inch stick and fire away? No thanks~ You're way out of your league, kid.
[ Note to self: women are far more scary when you're between them and a billion-dollar necklace. She's not even calling him dear anymore, his fragile heart is going to shatter.
Red nails tap, and Baroqueheat's nails tap in tandem as he thinks about a good strategy to get her hand off his booty. Okay, off his treasure and onto his booty. No, focus. Focus. ]
Maybe you can help me with it, together we can reinvent fire. ♥
[ how MANY of these fucking LINES does he have, holy shit. But he seems to recall that she has a tendency to be a little shy about ass-slaps, so he tries to go for another one. Maybe she'll get too flustered to continue... ]
Reinvent fire? [He hums, pursing those plump lips.] That was a pretty bad one...I give it a four out of ten. Your fire is in another castle. You'll have to extinguish it in five minutes away from here.
[And almost as if he sense it in the air, maybe his ass senses it or something, the second those sticky fingers come into contact with aforementioned ass, he kicks out with another heel, back to the case and their prize. One hand smooths up his own thigh, for the holster there, and his Walther P38. He keeps it lowered at his side, for now. But it glints beneath the light, a warning.]
You're a hundred years too early if you think you can handle all this.
[ Despite the fact that this shiteater falls on his ass and looks up at her from the ground, there's a glint in his eye that suggest that he's not at all wounded, not at all fazed. His words are in direct conflict with his body language, all sugar and sweetness, congeniality and coquette. ]
So cold, so cold! I'm a firestarter, not a firefighter, so we can make fires anywhere, anytime. You know what they say about two people meeting and sparks igniting— this is kinda it, don't you think?
[ Let's get up off the floor, though, good man. Perhaps he should look a little more alarmed about the gun, but no— he's no Ryan Gosling, he ain't selling his act at all. He's as breezy as ever. ]
And besides, I can't wait a hundred years. My princess is waiting, and I don't like fighting women! So I'd really like it if you just, y'know. Handed that over.
No, I think I'd rather stamp them out, let 'em grind under my heel. It'd be a nice little polka to end the dance. [a headshake, a huff of a laugh.] The only spark that'll ignite is the mechanisms of this, and nothing having to do with your mechanisms.
[Lupin now raises the gun straight at Baroqueheat's chest, eyes narrowed. His expression sobers instantly. Shoulders rise with a sigh, then drop. What a shitty, manly thing to say, too! (like you're one to talk, Lupin)]
I hate to tell you this, but you've got the wrong cup size, if that's the case.
[His tone is no longer that higher pitched, smokey rasp of a woman who's smoked far too long. It's his normal tone.
He pulls the trigger.
But instead of lead, what flies towards Baroqueheat is a boxing glove loaded on a spring.]
Baroqueheat is on the verge of pissing himself when he hears that voice, unmistakably male and indescribably mismatched with that rack, that ass.
That ass.
Even lightning-quick reflexes can't account for the sheer shock that wells in his stomach and bubbles into faint panic once realization sets in like a slow and heavy stone falling to the darkest depths of the abyss, his rationality making a steady descent into the Mariana Trench and settling on murky, muddy, medieval ground.
His thoughts veer from "oh my god" to "kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me". ]
Wh—
[ Nosebleed and all, he lands back on his ass and looks like a piranha just slid right up his asshole. ]
[Lupin takes advantage of the distinct look of Wanting To Be Sick and Dead on his 'rival's face in order to rip elastic and a wig and the majority of that glorious body suit off, revealing the Master Thief in all his furious glory.
Half-twisting, he nabs the case in one hand and levels the barrel of his gun toward Baroqueheat's downed form once again.
His cheeks are pink and his eyes are nearly teary as his jaw clenches and he bites out:]
DON'T YOU THINK I KNOW THAT?! I FELT IT! I FELT YOUR GROSS FACE THROUGH THE SUIT! I FELT MY SOUL WITHER. THE NEXT ROUND IS GOING TO BE ACID BULLETS WITH PIRANHAS!
[harrumphing]
Look, we can just put this behind my behi- IN THE PAST, IN THE PAST! if you just kindly buzz off. [Tries for a kind, sincere smile, ends up with a wolfish grimace
[ He cannot fucking believe this is happening, he can't believe he was copping a feel at latex and rubber and whatever the fuck, he cannot wrap his mind around the fact that this fucker was wearing what was essentially a huge rubber condom? A huge rubber condom shaped like a hot woman? This is the worst day of his fucking life.
Tears are also welling in his eyes, from the bile that rises to the back of his throat as he reflects upon his actions of the night, from all those bootytouches to the pinches and the lines, and oh my god he actually kissed her in places didn't he, holy fucking shit he needs therapy right the fuck now.
His voice pitches down at least two octaves, from 'flute-y piece of shit' to 'just a piece of shit'. ]
Your soul is withering?! My face was in your ass, how close was I to your damn balls?! Centimeters? Millimeters!? Go get castrated!
[ He gets up, slowly, reaffirming to himself that this is something that is going to give him Major Trust Issues. ]
[Reparations....reparations?? REPARFUCKINGATIONS?!?!? Lupin's neck twists to and fro, his jaw clenches and unclenches, the vein in his throat throbs.
He sees nothing but red, red, red beneath his eyelids, feels nothing but white hot anger coursing through his veins, blazing and deadly. A therapist? LUPIN NEEDS A GODDAMNED PRIEST! HE NEEDS AN EXORCISM, STAT! And then about five orgasms to completely wipe his mind. He will not be able to get a boner for at least five hours!
When he opens his mouth, spittle flies free:]
STOP TALKING ABOUT MY BALLS, LEAVE THEM OUT OF THIS! DON'T YOU THINK YOU'VE DONE ENOUGH!? GO PUT YOUR DICK IN ACID.
[The motion of his arm follows Baroqueheat's climb to his feet, never once wavering. Index finger tense at the knuckle.]
Hell no. You need to get your nose and face out of business that doesn't involve you.
[slowly, he takes a step back, remains facing this equally traumatized soul]
Me!? Next time you choose a disguise, go for C-cups, not double-Ds?! What kind of weird fetish is this, this isn't a club for your kinks, I'm the only one that should be acting inappropriately here. I hate competition!
[ He neglects to put a patronizing heart at the end of his sentences because he needs Jesus right now. Oh lord give him the strength not to throw up all over his shoes, lord grant him the power to keep carrying on in the face of all this trial, of this stifling knowledge that he had those balls so close to his tender face, amen.
Utterly affronted, he jabs his index finger at this impostor, this traitor of his heart, this abhorrent individual who not only played with his heart, but played with his dick in spirit. Those boners were not for you, they were for Big and Busty. How could you? Have you no conscience? Have you no mercy?
He doesn't realize that he actually said those last four statements out loud, under his breath. Too panicked to know that his metathoughts are leaking out like shit from a faulty faucet. Everything is terrible. ]
What are you even going to do with those, anyway? Put them on yourself and devise another sick plan to blue-ball some innocent pervert like me?! Pretend to be Miss Cassandra with the Olympic skater husband? Flash your fake cleavage under some diamonds?! I'm actually going to give those to my princess!
Why would I go for a cup no one pays attention to?! Cs are neglected and we all know it, only teenagers go after those if it means touching boob. Anyway, I don't have to answer to anyone, least of all perverted gigolos.
[He has to be the cool one, here-- well he is the coolest one here. This asshole probably can't trick other assholes into thinking he's a woman with some elastic and probably apples under his top. Frankly he's so uncool, he's so white-hot filled to the brim with rage, his face has tinted purple.
Especially those four statements, WHAT THE FUCK?! Why is he making Lupin feel like some sort of lying spouse or something?!
(He doesn't feel guilty, fuck that)
(he's just disgusted)]
No, if you must know, I have my own princess waiting for me at home. My fake cleavage goes a way longer way than your shitty lines! [defensive, much??
Another step back.]
Michelle Pfeiffer came to mind, actually, she was the first one I thought of? It's gotta be the hair...or the ass...Either way, if something this little gets to you, you're not cut out for this, kid.
[ Baroqueheat promises to himself that if he walks away from this without a necklace and nursing a lingering trauma instead of a very happy (??? tentative) Rahzel in his arms (also so so so so so tentative), that he will find this guy's "hubby" and set fire to him. To his dick. He doesn't doubt for a moment that this asshole came here with another asshole dressed like a hot girl, these sick bastards...
One step back is followed by a step forward, Baroqueshit with one hand still held out to take that fucking suitcase, give him that fucking suitcase. ]
You catch more lolicons with C-cups than double-Ds, aim straight and true for the fuckheads and sickos instead of targeting law-abiding citizens like me! This is what you deserve for trying to pull the wool over my delicate, delicate eyes.
[ this entire room now smells like bullshit ]
And, what? Something this little? Are you talking about the fact that I had my face planted in your probably hairy ass? I've seen a lot of heist movies but I've never seen Jason Bourne dealing with balls in his face.
[Lupin completely ignores the hand and remains steadfast, gaze set on Baroqueheat's face, a mirror to his own horror and struggles in this splintering reality, shattered beyond repair or even duct tape.
That step forward prompts three more steps back. At least all still seems well outside: the auction has started, the soft drone of the more boring items presented and clamored for.
What the hell is this guy's deal? And they call Lupin bad! He cocks an eyebrow, tightens his fingers around the handle of the case.]
MY ASS IS SUPPLE, NOT LITTLE-- [calm, cool, collected, Lupin. His mouth quirks.] The fact that you're learning your moves from movies proves how much of a kid you are. You've got to pay a little more attention to the legs as well as the cup size, brat. You wouldn't be able to pull something this brilliant off in a million years.
[Another step, a slower one. His knees bend slightly, like he's getting ready to--]
The lolicon's will have to deal with you for awhile, huh? Since you understand them so well maybe you should start a study instead of petty thievery. Either way, toodles!
[The fucker turns around and sprints out into the hall, cackling and cryi- coughing...]
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no subject
He knows some restraint. Lupin had the feeling he could train him. This must be how Fujiko feels all the time....
but then his face meets Lupin's ass and it's all over. He twists that wrist]
Well if you cost me this pretty prize, that won't be the most vital bone I'm breaking in you. Huh, it's not actually a bone though...
no subject
He could have yelped, but he clamps down on it with herculean force; instead of yelling into the ether, he yells muffledly into the fold of Lupin's dress. On his ass. This is the worst thing in the world. ]
Please, Hi-tan needs that to show all the other lions in the territory who's boss...!
[ That actually winds up sounding more like "pleeth, Hi-than needth that to..." We don't have to elaborate on why. ]
no subject
Of everything the master thief has ever experienced, he can't say another grown man yelping into his ass in distress is something he's ever had the displeasure of knowing intimately until this very moment. Where's a time machine when you need it?? It's a sensation that makes him shiver, makes him yelp in turn, makes the remainder of his soul crumble to ash right there in the vent.]
What was that? You want this up your own bum~? I didn't know you were so daring, Hi-tan! Why don't you sit here and think about what your plans are for the future while I decide whether or not I'm telling my hubby about this.
[Get real, he's never fucking telling Jigen or anyone about this.]
no subject
[ Nudging...that ass with his head, which is his idea of how best to offer this olive branch. That, and his wrist is currently on the verge of breaking off, and he needs the other one to brace himself in this vent.
Through a nearby grate, he can see the room below, full of glass cases and sealed boxes. If only he can get there with his dick intact... this task is proving more difficult than he anticipated. ]
I have an offer you can't refuse! ♥
no subject
[Ah yes, that sounds pleasant enough~ Even with the creak Baroqueheat's bones are making with every twist!! What a beautiful sound, what a resentful sound! If this dumbass hadn't shown up, face ON HIS DAMN ASS Lupin would have had the goods by now instead of his own goods getting fondled.
It couldn't hurt him to listen, could it? He gives that shitty wrist another wrench forward]
Let's hear it. I could use a laugh.
no subject
Why rope? How could this possibly used to ameliorate this situation?
The answer is that he's going to try to use it to tie Lupin's feet together. Rest in fucking pieces, Baroqueheat. ]
—I show you a little bit of what I learned in the circus, and you can be really impressed by it!
[ Words still muffled because he's balancing himself thanks to the aid of Lupin's lovely bum. ]
no subject
There's a deep gust of wind that's definitely Lupin sighing as he shifts into a sitting position, saving his ass (literally) and then, he kicks out with both feet]
Oh my, what fun! But I'm against what they do to you animals in there-- peanuts are not the way to have a proper, well rounded diet. Also, I'm charging you a thousand bucks, by the way~
[said on a laugh that's all mercury and acid]
no subject
"Plan 1: Mission Impossible That Shit" is turning out to be an abysmal failure, which he reflects upon with his face shoved into dust and possibly rat shit. ]
A thousand bucks for what?!
[ At this point, he doesn't give a fuck about possibly alerting the others to their presence; he has a feeling that he's contending with someone far more tricky than a few goons with guns. ]
That's it, Hi-tan's gonna start playing dirty...!
[ as if everything before this was clean?! god help them both. ]
no subject
[Is what he snarls over one pale shoulder before he's off again, snagging his One Night Nuisance's rope and crawling forward over to his grate to paradise. Taking the time to open it, lightning quick, he sets it aside and from the recesses of that skirt? Retrieves a full assault of climbing equipment. It takes a couple of seconds to secure himself to the vent and tug at the harness around his waist twice to make sure everything's honky dory.
(Nothing is honky dory. What the fuck is this situation)
Then he scoots that magnificent bottom to the edge of the vent for the last tip over the cliff, as it were.
The most disgusting giggle leaves his lips, and he even rubs his hands together gleefully.]
no subject
The current lack of a rope's taken the fun out of things, really. He didn't need it, as demonstrated by the fact that he sighs and swordhands his way out of the vent, carves a hole in the metal (he's not paying for building damage) and drops down like a cat, but you know. It was the feeling that he was going for. The mood! How cruel of the Don's dame to take that away from him. He'd sue if she weren't so lovely.
(What he doesn't know...)
When he drops down, surprisingly silent despite the considerable fall, he makes sure to look up and grin cheekily at Lupin.
He even waves and mouths: "be careful!" ]
no subject
While he's moseying his way down, plunge by jerky plunge of rope length, way too slow for his own liking and the liking of this hiking of the damn skirt. And when he looks up again that little bastard is slicing his way through the goddamn metal in order to drop down!! What the hell--
Growling under his breath, the master thief throws caution to the wind and drops down as well, moderately graceful, and waves his fist threateningly at Baroqueheat, mouthing back:
Go to hell!
They're down to the final countdown. Lupin lunges.]
no subject
But he'll have to give it to her, she's gutsy: she jumps (pretend not to see how he's craning his neck to see if he can sneak a peek) and scrambles for the case with the diamond necklace in it, which Baroqueheat also dives for.
His hand touches the cold exterior of that metal trunk, and he whispers to his competitor: ]
I'll show you rocks that are bigger than these later, so how about you let go?
no subject
red, red nails tap, tap, tap against metal, a haunting sound of excitement and anticipation in the otherwise quiet room. A node of electricity, the calm before the shitstorm, races up Lupin's spine, despite this little bothersome fucking mosquito.
red, red lips give way to a toothy smile:]
What are you going to do, rub em against your five inch stick and fire away? No thanks~ You're way out of your league, kid.
no subject
Red nails tap, and Baroqueheat's nails tap in tandem as he thinks about a good strategy to get her hand off his booty. Okay, off his treasure and onto his booty. No, focus. Focus. ]
Maybe you can help me with it, together we can reinvent fire. ♥
[ how MANY of these fucking LINES does he have, holy shit. But he seems to recall that she has a tendency to be a little shy about ass-slaps, so he tries to go for another one. Maybe she'll get too flustered to continue... ]
no subject
[And almost as if he sense it in the air, maybe his ass senses it or something, the second those sticky fingers come into contact with aforementioned ass, he kicks out with another heel, back to the case and their prize. One hand smooths up his own thigh, for the holster there, and his Walther P38. He keeps it lowered at his side, for now. But it glints beneath the light, a warning.]
You're a hundred years too early if you think you can handle all this.
no subject
So cold, so cold! I'm a firestarter, not a firefighter, so we can make fires anywhere, anytime. You know what they say about two people meeting and sparks igniting— this is kinda it, don't you think?
[ Let's get up off the floor, though, good man. Perhaps he should look a little more alarmed about the gun, but no— he's no Ryan Gosling, he ain't selling his act at all. He's as breezy as ever. ]
And besides, I can't wait a hundred years. My princess is waiting, and I don't like fighting women! So I'd really like it if you just, y'know. Handed that over.
no subject
[Lupin now raises the gun straight at Baroqueheat's chest, eyes narrowed. His expression sobers instantly. Shoulders rise with a sigh, then drop. What a shitty, manly thing to say, too! (like you're one to talk, Lupin)]
I hate to tell you this, but you've got the wrong cup size, if that's the case.
[His tone is no longer that higher pitched, smokey rasp of a woman who's smoked far too long. It's his normal tone.
He pulls the trigger.
But instead of lead, what flies towards Baroqueheat is a boxing glove loaded on a spring.]
no subject
What the fuck.
Baroqueheat is on the verge of pissing himself when he hears that voice, unmistakably male and indescribably mismatched with that rack, that ass.
That ass.
Even lightning-quick reflexes can't account for the sheer shock that wells in his stomach and bubbles into faint panic once realization sets in like a slow and heavy stone falling to the darkest depths of the abyss, his rationality making a steady descent into the Mariana Trench and settling on murky, muddy, medieval ground.
His thoughts veer from "oh my god" to "kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me". ]
Wh—
[ Nosebleed and all, he lands back on his ass and looks like a piranha just slid right up his asshole. ]
—No.. No. No. No?! No....
My face was right up your asscrack!!!!!
no subject
Half-twisting, he nabs the case in one hand and levels the barrel of his gun toward Baroqueheat's downed form once again.
His cheeks are pink and his eyes are nearly teary as his jaw clenches and he bites out:]
DON'T YOU THINK I KNOW THAT?! I FELT IT! I FELT YOUR GROSS FACE THROUGH THE SUIT! I FELT MY SOUL WITHER. THE NEXT ROUND IS GOING TO BE ACID BULLETS WITH PIRANHAS!
[harrumphing]
Look, we can just put this behind my behi- IN THE PAST, IN THE PAST! if you just kindly buzz off. [Tries for a kind, sincere smile, ends up with a wolfish grimace
he's going to be sick
(he's also a little fucking offended???)]
no subject
Tears are also welling in his eyes, from the bile that rises to the back of his throat as he reflects upon his actions of the night, from all those bootytouches to the pinches and the lines, and oh my god he actually kissed her in places didn't he, holy fucking shit he needs therapy right the fuck now.
His voice pitches down at least two octaves, from 'flute-y piece of shit' to 'just a piece of shit'. ]
Your soul is withering?! My face was in your ass, how close was I to your damn balls?! Centimeters? Millimeters!? Go get castrated!
[ He gets up, slowly, reaffirming to himself that this is something that is going to give him Major Trust Issues. ]
I need reparations, give me the necklace.
no subject
He sees nothing but red, red, red beneath his eyelids, feels nothing but white hot anger coursing through his veins, blazing and deadly. A therapist? LUPIN NEEDS A GODDAMNED PRIEST! HE NEEDS AN EXORCISM, STAT! And then about five orgasms to completely wipe his mind. He will not be able to get a boner for at least five hours!
When he opens his mouth, spittle flies free:]
STOP TALKING ABOUT MY BALLS, LEAVE THEM OUT OF THIS! DON'T YOU THINK YOU'VE DONE ENOUGH!? GO PUT YOUR DICK IN ACID.
[The motion of his arm follows Baroqueheat's climb to his feet, never once wavering. Index finger tense at the knuckle.]
Hell no. You need to get your nose and face out of business that doesn't involve you.
[slowly, he takes a step back, remains facing this equally traumatized soul]
no subject
[ He neglects to put a patronizing heart at the end of his sentences because he needs Jesus right now. Oh lord give him the strength not to throw up all over his shoes, lord grant him the power to keep carrying on in the face of all this trial, of this stifling knowledge that he had those balls so close to his tender face, amen.
Utterly affronted, he jabs his index finger at this impostor, this traitor of his heart, this abhorrent individual who not only played with his heart, but played with his dick in spirit. Those boners were not for you, they were for Big and Busty. How could you? Have you no conscience? Have you no mercy?
He doesn't realize that he actually said those last four statements out loud, under his breath. Too panicked to know that his metathoughts are leaking out like shit from a faulty faucet. Everything is terrible. ]
What are you even going to do with those, anyway? Put them on yourself and devise another sick plan to blue-ball some innocent pervert like me?! Pretend to be Miss Cassandra with the Olympic skater husband? Flash your fake cleavage under some diamonds?! I'm actually going to give those to my princess!
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[He has to be the cool one, here-- well he is the coolest one here. This asshole probably can't trick other assholes into thinking he's a woman with some elastic and probably apples under his top. Frankly he's so uncool, he's so white-hot filled to the brim with rage, his face has tinted purple.
Especially those four statements, WHAT THE FUCK?! Why is he making Lupin feel like some sort of lying spouse or something?!
(He doesn't feel guilty, fuck that)
(he's just disgusted)]
No, if you must know, I have my own princess waiting for me at home. My fake cleavage goes a way longer way than your shitty lines! [defensive, much??
Another step back.]
Michelle Pfeiffer came to mind, actually, she was the first one I thought of? It's gotta be the hair...or the ass...Either way, if something this little gets to you, you're not cut out for this, kid.
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One step back is followed by a step forward, Baroqueshit with one hand still held out to take that fucking suitcase, give him that fucking suitcase. ]
You catch more lolicons with C-cups than double-Ds, aim straight and true for the fuckheads and sickos instead of targeting law-abiding citizens like me! This is what you deserve for trying to pull the wool over my delicate, delicate eyes.
[ this entire room now smells like bullshit ]
And, what? Something this little? Are you talking about the fact that I had my face planted in your probably hairy ass? I've seen a lot of heist movies but I've never seen Jason Bourne dealing with balls in his face.
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That step forward prompts three more steps back. At least all still seems well outside: the auction has started, the soft drone of the more boring items presented and clamored for.
What the hell is this guy's deal? And they call Lupin bad! He cocks an eyebrow, tightens his fingers around the handle of the case.]
MY ASS IS SUPPLE, NOT LITTLE-- [calm, cool, collected, Lupin. His mouth quirks.] The fact that you're learning your moves from movies proves how much of a kid you are. You've got to pay a little more attention to the legs as well as the cup size, brat. You wouldn't be able to pull something this brilliant off in a million years.
[Another step, a slower one. His knees bend slightly, like he's getting ready to--]
The lolicon's will have to deal with you for awhile, huh? Since you understand them so well maybe you should start a study instead of petty thievery. Either way, toodles!
[The fucker turns around and sprints out into the hall, cackling and cryi- coughing...]
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