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| Rooming with the devil; pure bloody murdah! | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Jun 5 2010, 02:29 AM (314 Views) | |
| wbicepuppy | Jun 5 2010, 02:29 AM Post #1 |
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godzilla complex
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All kids can never wait to go to highschool. If you believe all the movies and TV shows, it's THE place to be to have fun. But when you actually get there, you realise that it's not that much different from your old school. It's just bigger, with more people, harder classes and complicated social circles. By the time you graduate, you're actually happy to leave the place behind. And then comes college. Going to university is a whole different animal altogether, when you're used to highschool. For one, you get to pick ALL of your classes. The sneaky guy can manage a schedule that starts after noon for every single day of the week, and even leave himself friday free. Those who don't care, those whose teachers are absolute assholes and those who registered too late end up having to get up super-early and go back home super-late. It does help if you live on campus. Maxim hadn't expected to have a room at the Oakes college dorm. There was this appartment building he was supposed to rent with some of his old pals from the football team back in highschool, but the place, due to a freak accident involving illegal fireworks and a pet ferret with the unfortunate habit to chew on electric wires, burst into flames about three weeks before the end of the summer vacations. They'd hastily stuck him in one of the "late rooms" in the East wing of the dorm, with no choice as to whom his roomie would be. Well, not that he minded, as long as said mystery roommate didn't mind having to share his space with Maxim's sports equipment. And if he did, well, Maxim was big and buff enough to intimidate anyone into silence. He was the kind of guy born to play football, square and muscular, with a face that still looked handsome with shaved hair and the occasional bruise. He never let his hair grow much more than a fraction of an inch long, but if he did, it would be dirty blonde. Very white-american-hero, a look completed with blue-gray eyes and very white teeth he hadn't managed to break during a heated match yet. Oakes college was expensive, but his family could afford it, if it meant getting him into one of the prestigious college football teams. It was well worth sending him out to live a state and a half away from home, and hey, Maxim could always contact his parents over the internet if he wanted to. If he could manage to get his computer working. --------------------------------------------------------------------------- (*edit: I knew I was starting up a new RP with someone, and I mixed them up, oh noooes... windy sucks, mea culpa) |
| [I EAT CITY] | |
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| purebloodymurder | Jun 7 2010, 02:04 PM Post #2 |
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☆★☆★
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Never in his eighteen (or rather, nineteen soon) years had Alan "Keys" Juneity ever been so excited to go somewhere. However, the moment he had gotten his high school diploma in hand, he'd been nose to the grind stone doing anything he could to get scholarship after scholarship to try and raise the money he needed to get into the school he wanted. He'd always had the brains for it and his grades were top notch that he could have gotten anywhere he wanted. However, when you live in a small house with four other siblings and parents who are constantly busy, money was something that was hard to come by. But he did it. Now here he was, getting out of a taxi to look over his new dorm building. He'd had to fly in (his hometown was days away by car and not to mention in Canada) and so all he had to his name currently was the suitcase the driver was now pulling out of the trunk for him. It looked exactly like it did in the booklet and on the virtual tour. Even the sun was just bright enough to capture each stone perfectly and the clouds were so far and few that it was nearly a flawless blue sky. Taking in a deep breath as he closed the door behind himself, he found it smelt exactly how he'd imagined it would. Like a fresh start. Like the beginning to everything he'd ever dreamed of. True to the geek stereotype, Keys was short and lanky and slightly paler then the average young adult. Standing only at 5'6, he'd had his fair share of getting pushed around. This, in turn, gave him a firm posture. He wasn't clumsy. In fact, he was excellent at coordination was functioning perfectly. His blond hair was a tad bit past his eyes. He had a pair of silver and yellow framed glasses perched on his nose and his bangs were thus brushed to the side, giving a clear view of his face. He didn't like hiding behind his hair, he felt that gave off an impression that he was easy to push around. Which he wasn't. Most of the time. It ... depended. As he paid the driver, Keys adjusted his sleeve before watching the car drive off into the distance. He only got moving when someone blared their horn at him for standing in the middle of the street. It was a bit difficult but he managed to carry his bag up the stairs, clipboard tucked under his arm. It was checked every so often to ensure that he had the right room number and that he hadn't climbed a whole other floor for nothing. When he was finally presented with the shining, silver numbers [23, he noted all over again], Keys dropped his bag with a huff. He fumbled his new key out of his pocket and opened the door wide. Without even looking inside, he turned back and hauled up his suitcase. However, once within the room, he set it down when he noticed some things already littering the area. Excellent. His roommate was likely some disorganized junky. Just perfect. Some ground rules were definitely in order. Finally, his eyes settled on the other young man. Alright,not a junky. A jock. There was no way he was anything else. Great. Plus, the supporting evidence was currently hanging around what he'd obviously claimed as his side of the room. He cleared his throat as he stepped around his bag and outstretched his hand toward the other. "I hate to sound obvious but you must be my roommate." He pushed up his glasses with his free hand. Best to give a good first impression. "My name is Alan Juneity but I would prefer it if you called me Keys; it has been my persona since I turned 5." He didn't ask the others name in return because he knew it was simply proper etiquette to give yours in return. [It's no problem, haha :D] |
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[align=center] This ain't a love song This ain't a broken heart homie singing only cause he's lonely This ain't a whiskey drowned ballad, there ain't nothing here that's valid [/align] | |
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| wbicepuppy | Jun 8 2010, 12:26 AM Post #3 |
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godzilla complex
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When sharing your living space with a mystery roomie, there are things you can expect, and some you can only hope for. Maxim wasn't expecting anything from his roomie, but he did keep his fingers crossed. Regular student? Fine with him. Workaholic? Boring, but okay. Neat freak? Could be annoying, but at the same time, playing his cards right would get him less chores, and that was a plus. Well, he wasn't lazy, but he planned to be a very busy person, and busy people didn't always have enough time to pick up after themselves. Maxim did hope that the other guy would be into sports as well, that'd give him a training buddy, someone who understood a stricter athlete's diet and the need for getting up at ungodly hours of the morning to get a little jogging done. This would be the... well, admittedly, the second best scenario for him, but he doubted he'd be lucky enough to land the first. Or would he? As he looked up from the useless but expensive piece of electronics he was trying to turn on and laid his eyes on the new guy, it was all he could do to keep his expression neutral. He raised an eyebrow. "Maxim Stentson. What the hell is a persona?" Oh man... They stuck him in here with a geek. The dorm overseers, or whatever they were called, were going to bite their nails over this. They put HIM, Maxim Tristan Stentson, future star of the football world, in the same room as this blond, be-spectacled short kid. Of course, they couldn't KNOW, but this was going to make this school year a lot more entertaining. Dammit, Maxim, don't go there. He chastized himself internally. So, he looks like the kind of guy your friends beat up for lunch money, it doesn't mean he IS a geek. Dig the glasses, though. Yes, definitely dig the glasses. |
| [I EAT CITY] | |
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| purebloodymurder | Jun 8 2010, 12:50 AM Post #4 |
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☆★☆★
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He suspected as much. "A persona is simply a personality. More commonly, it'd be easier to say that Keys is my nickname." He smiled despite himself. This was kind of amusing. He found he'd never been one to get easily annoyed with people who couldn't match wits or brains with him. He chose to see that particular aspect with an optimistic ray of sunshine. However, that raised eyebrow look wasn't doing well to keep his insides settled. "Pleasure to meet you, Maxim. I see you've already chosen your side of the room." He gave the room another look over before he turned toward his bag. "It's a bit smaller then I had anticipated." He rambled. "Not that that's a problem." Picking it up, he heaved it over to his bed and tossed it on top with a sigh of relief. No more dragging it anywhere. Now he could just settle on getting things put into their proper place. Would it be unfriendly of him to simply leave the conversation at that? He put his clipboard aside as he unzipped his bag. He didn't want to give a bad impression or anything ... "If you don't mind me asking, what is it that you're working on?" There, a simple question, leaving plenty of room for Maxim to either make or break the conversation. Short replies indicated lack of interest and longer ones a wish to converse more. Proper conversational etiquette, after all. A small desk to himself, one shelf and a small dresser was plenty of space for Keys to put his current things but he had a feeling that when his other things arrived, he'd have to bargain about flushing his things out into the closet and such. He started to set his clothes and small amount of books out accordingly. |
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[align=center] This ain't a love song This ain't a broken heart homie singing only cause he's lonely This ain't a whiskey drowned ballad, there ain't nothing here that's valid [/align] | |
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| wbicepuppy | Jun 8 2010, 01:32 AM Post #5 |
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godzilla complex
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"All right, nickname. Gotcha." Maxim said with the beginning of an amused smirk. So, this Alan guy liked to use long complicated words? That only comforted him in his first impression: the guy was a geek, plain and simple. It wasn't just looks. And that suited him just fine. He shrugged at Alan's next observation. He hadn't given it much thought upon moving in, really. He just picked one of the beds and scattered his stuff around, and hadn't taken too much time to put his belongings away yet. It WAS a little small, though. Hell, his bedroom's closet, back home, was about the same size. He barely had the space to squeeze in the giant TV, the minifridge and the exercise bike... Speaking of which, he had no idea how to wire up the electronic equipment. Maxim was one of those guys who could make a computer chip fry at ten paces. When he'd finally get the time to, he'd have to call for help. His computer wasn't cooperating either. It was one of those new shiny laptop things, not an iPad, because the last one he had was broken. Maxim accidentally put something too heavy on it and the screen was never the same afterwards. Of course, the replacement wasn't behaving any better at the moment, but this was due to Maxim's ignorance. He could turn it on and off, but other than that... He glanced back up when Alan asked him about it. "Just trying to get this piece of crap to work. You any good with machines, Key?" |
| [I EAT CITY] | |
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| purebloodymurder | Jun 8 2010, 06:53 PM Post #6 |
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☆★☆★
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"Keys." Alan corrected him. "With an s." Key by itself sounded like a horrible nickname. No ring to it, no memorable value; nothing. He hoped that wasn't going to become habit or he was going to have a hard time getting used to it. It took a lot more then he expected to not retort with something like, 'But if that is too difficult for you to understand, you can just call me Alan.'. He'd grown up with people who looked like Maxim; he knew when to hold his tongue. Deep breaths, Alan. Deep breaths. Stay on good, simple terms. "Actually, I do know a thing or two about computers." He finally replied, closing the first drawer he'd stuffed some socks into. Moving over to the other, he gestured toward it. "May I?" As he waited for the reply, he looked over at the screen and tried to figure out the problem by a mere glance. Of course, he wasn't nearly that good yet but he was budding pretty steadily in the field of technology and he was sure this was a problem he could easily solve. He bent over the desk and turned the laptop toward himself. Alan brushed at his bangs a moment before he started to slide his fingers along the touch pad and tap a couple keys. The screen flickered to life and reflected neatly off his glasses as his eyes scanned the screen. "Hmm ... well, I believe ...." He mumbled and tapped at a couple more keys. The colour flickered down into black and then blue. "Aaandd ...." A moment more of tapping. "Ohh, no, that's not quite right ..." A couple clicks and the screen flickered to black. "Ohh, drat. That's not right at all." "Just a moment. My mistake." This time, it had been directed toward Maxim but he made no physical indication that he'd meant that. His eyes were glued to the computer. However, a minute or so of typing away and a couple clicks and Alan paused in his work. Soon, the screen shut off completely and, with patience, came back to life. His smile was large and bright, perfectly straight, white teeth showing. He turned the laptop back to Maxim and had a look of accomplishment about him. "And fixed .... or so I should assume. I could explain what I did but I doubt you would care for a long, boring explanation. Basically, just one of those small errors that cause unnecessary problems. Nothing to worry about." |
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[align=center] This ain't a love song This ain't a broken heart homie singing only cause he's lonely This ain't a whiskey drowned ballad, there ain't nothing here that's valid [/align] | |
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| wbicepuppy | Jun 10 2010, 03:24 AM Post #7 |
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godzilla complex
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"Knock yourself out." Maxim said as he offered the laptop. He watched Alan work without saying a word, but with an increasingly wide amused smirk, which he hid just before the geek could finish his task and take notice. The way he talked to himself was frickin' adorable. When the job was finally over, he just set the machine aside, resisting the urge to review his roomie's work. "Yeah, thanks. And if it messes up again, I'll just track you down and ask you to make it all better, I suppose." So, the geek had figured a way to make sure Maxim NEEDED to stay on good terms with him? Clever boy! Just because he talked too damn much didn't mean he wasn't bright. So, smart AND cute, then. Just fantastic! That was two out of his three requirements fulfilled, and the third one was, admittedly, the toughest to meet as well as the hardest one to figure out. After all, there were some questions you just DIDN'T ask on your first day sharing a dorm room with a complete stranger. Besides, even if this kid didn't meet the third requirement, Maxim could still have fun with him. He leaned back nonchalantly. "Hey, was just wondering... you got this little bit of an accent going on, where's that from? I know there's people from all over the States in here." Well, it was mostly just an excuse to get Alan talking. That hint of accent was almost impossible to detect if you weren't trying to listen for it, and hey, could be due to anything from a regional thing to social upbringing. Hell, Maxim himself was always very careful to make sure he didn't go back to his dad's Southern accent. It usually popped up when he was drunk. Hillarious during parties, but it made some people nervous. |
| [I EAT CITY] | |
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| purebloodymurder | Jun 10 2010, 03:03 PM Post #8 |
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☆★☆★
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He'd rather expected Maxim to simply absorb into what he'd been meaning to do so he was a bit surprised when he seemed to be genuinely interested in conversation. Not that Alan was going to protest. He'd been dreading the idea of having a roommate that he didn't get along with, at least on a basic level. Of course, sharing a room with someone was no strange situation to him. Alan had shared rooms with his siblings all his life. But still, some of his family he was compatible with, others he wasn't. He'd had his fair share of privacy arguments and don't-touch-my-stuff battles. He'd like to at least have a tolerable relationship with this man. After all, he was going to be seeing him every morning he woke up. "I'm ... kind of surprised you picked up on that." He replied finally, fishing through his bag to retrieve a couple books. "Though you'd be wrong immediately by thinking I'm from the States." He hoped Maxim wouldn't turn out to be one of those close minded, idiotic Americans. Alan looked over at him as he set the books down on his desk. "I'm from Canada; Alberta to be precise. Before you ask, no we don't live in igloos, have winter all year round or eat whale blubber." His voice held a hint of humor. He did very much adore Canadian stereotypes. They were hilarious. Clearing his throat, he added, "Lucky you, getting to room with a Canuck." |
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[align=center] This ain't a love song This ain't a broken heart homie singing only cause he's lonely This ain't a whiskey drowned ballad, there ain't nothing here that's valid [/align] | |
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| wbicepuppy | Jun 11 2010, 03:27 AM Post #9 |
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godzilla complex
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Maxim laughed, and this was a genuine laugh, not malicious or forced in any way. Head thrown back, shoulders shaking, rather pleasant laughter, not the loud clumsy guffaws one would have expected from a big boy like him. He patted Alan on the arm, sympathetic. "I hear ya. Just so you know, not all of us Americans are gun-crazed homophobic obese racists. As far as stereotypes go, I'd rather be stuck with yours than with mine!" Maxim was rather proud of that last sentence. He'd managed to slide in both a veiled compliment on his roomie's homeland AND a sensitive word, and he had done this subtly enough not to raise any eyebrows. "It IS true..." He added, "...that we like our football, though. I've done the tryouts for the college team, pretty sure they'll take me. I was team captain back in highschool." They didn't do too badly back then, too. Missed the championship's cup by three points and a knee injury. "You into sports at all, Keys? Baseball? Or... no, wait. Hockey, right?" Hockey was pretty fun, he'd tried it back in middle school, but Maxim preferred football above anything else. Yeah, you could get pretty physical in hockey too, God knew he'd seen the fights on TV, but there was the whole buisness with skates. Damn fiddly things, skates. Give him good old reliable grass and mud over slippery and hard ice any day. Of courses, odds were that his new friend wouldn't care about sports. He'd have to live with that... |
| [I EAT CITY] | |
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| purebloodymurder | Jun 11 2010, 01:53 PM Post #10 |
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☆★☆★
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Alan simply smiled. "Good to know." He'd forever been a liberal so the thought of rooming with a conservative being would only cause sparks where there didn't need to be. Oh, wait, he supposed he should be thinking in more American terms. Oh well, it didn't particularly matter. It was his own thoughts after all. "Ahh, yes, the ever present sport for big bodies and small minds. I never have understood the joy of bashing heads together for a pigskin and seeing how far one could run with it before getting a broken limb." It was only after he'd finished that he realized that could have come off massively one sided. He panicked slightly. "Not that I have anything against football or it's players, it's just ... not for me, you know? Kind of the little guy." Oh dear lord, please don't say he just ruined the good first impression. To try and compensate for that screw up, he continued to ramble. "Us Canadians do enjoy our hockey but I'm afraid I've never been one to have it catch my fancy. My brothers quite enjoy it and they fill me in on everything so I know a lot more about it then I really care to but ...." He trailed off, looking a bit unsure of himself. "I'm not ... very good at keeping my mouth shut when it comes to stating my opinions." Don't beat me up, don't beat me up. "I'm not a big sports fanatic, no but I do sometimes enjoy watching the games. Live, of course. On television, it's just too dull for me. It's interesting to see how all the fans react and the atmosphere of the stadium is just electrifying." He looked up at Maxim, hopeful. This is what he did when a situation made him nervous in any sort of way: he didn't stop talking. It often got him into more trouble then good but he just couldn't help himself. He tried but he was still subject to falling back on his bad habit. In a totally weak and rather lame attempt, he added a small, "I don't mind baseball," before shutting his mouth and biting the inside of his lip. |
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[align=center] This ain't a love song This ain't a broken heart homie singing only cause he's lonely This ain't a whiskey drowned ballad, there ain't nothing here that's valid [/align] | |
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| wbicepuppy | Jun 13 2010, 12:57 AM Post #11 |
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godzilla complex
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Maxim stared. Alan made excuses, and Maxim kept staring. Did he REALLY say this, after being informed that Maxim, yes, the guy who was about twice his weigh in muscle, used to be captain of his highschool football team? The jock raised an eyebrow. That's some fancy backpedalling you're doing, Keys. He thought. After that talk about stereotypes, you must have balls of titanium down those pants of yours. And to be honest, that was impressive. Clumsy, but impressive. Maxim had been able to reduce some comrades to silence with a simple glare before. He LIKED someone who wasn't afraid to say what he really thought. "You know," he begun after a short moment of silence, "there's actually an element of strategy to the game. As surprising as it sounds, it's not just a question of who has the biggest quarterback on the team." He couldn't blame Alan for not liking football, though. Hell, people like him were a geek's natural enemy. Maxim himself never bullied anyone, despite a shape any bully would have killed for, but he knew most of his pals weren't exactly nice guys. He shrugged, indicating to his new roomie that he wasn't mad. "Being on the field is different from just watching, too. You have less than a second to make really important decisions that could win you the match. The guy in front of you sharpened his spiked shoes, and his goal is to take you out. If your mates aren't a hundred percent with you, you find yourself alone and surrounded." This thought brought a grin to his face. "Like a lamb in front of a wolf pack. Compared to that, baseball's just hitting a ball with a bat as hard as you can. It's not rocket science." |
| [I EAT CITY] | |
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| purebloodymurder | Jun 15 2010, 10:46 PM Post #12 |
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☆★☆★
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There was such a strong wave of relief, Alan nearly had to sit down. He tried his best not to show it but he was sure it had showed up in his face. "How about I simply take your word for it and we call it even?" He smiled slightly. A quiet, mutual agreement. Alan wouldn't' bash it and Maxim wouldn't bring it up. From where he was standing, eh figured that was a pretty good plan. "Ahh, yes, the classic male bonding that forms from being a part of a competitive team sport in which adolescents experience the trials of life as a young adult through a point system." He looked up to Maxim and smiled. This time, it hadn't been meant as a dis. He looked genuinely thrilled by the idea. "A very clever way to go about teaching children the trials of life and one that I am certain most boys find very entertaining. Personally, I don't understand it but I've read all about it in multiple pieces of literature from teen novels to psychology books. I'm certain I can imagine it well enough and, for me, it doesn't seem to be something I wound yearn for. Perhaps in another life." He nibbled on the inside of his lips and realized (with slight distress) that the conversation had died. he'd literally talked the conversation to death. Good lord, how had he possibly come across as charming enough to get so many scholarships? Turning from the other, he went about continuing to unpack his things before finally placing his empty suitcase at the foot of his bed. His side felt plain, what with his laptop, a few books and some clothes. Looking over at Maxim's side, he found himself curious. "You certainly brought a lot with you in one shot. Can I assume that you live closer to here then I do?" |
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[align=center] This ain't a love song This ain't a broken heart homie singing only cause he's lonely This ain't a whiskey drowned ballad, there ain't nothing here that's valid [/align] | |
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| wbicepuppy | Jun 20 2010, 07:22 AM Post #13 |
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godzilla complex
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"I'm actually from a few states away." Maxim replied, giving up on their previous subject of conversation before his roomie could go and make himself sound even more awkward. Besides, psychology was SO not his thing. He motionned vaguely around towards his possessions, most of which were, if not brand new, of very high quality. The Stentson family was visibly one that could afford the finer things in life. "I just had my stuff delivered. It's easier than making lots of trips, and if they break anything, they got to pay for it." The jock eyed Alan's possessions with a raised eyebrow. "You know, you can probably borrow some of my stuff if you feel like it. So long as you don't fill up my fridge with tofu crap or watch TV until three AM on weekdays, of course." Besides, he couldn't exactly force the guy not to watch his TV, not when it took up a whole wall of their shared living space. Maxim wasn't that bothered about his stuff, even though he was an only child and not used to sharing. Well, there WAS one thing he wouldn't share. Not completely, anyway. A man's car is sacred. You don't let any dude drive it, especially when it's your highschool graduation gift from your grandfather. Maxim's was a sleek silver machine, the kind James Bond would have wet himself over. Not a speck of dust on the windshield, not a scratch in the paint. He intended to keep it this way for as long as possible. |
| [I EAT CITY] | |
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| purebloodymurder | Jun 26 2010, 03:07 PM Post #14 |
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☆★☆★
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"Tofu?" Alan made a face. "Hardly." He waved his hand in the air as if to dismiss the thought. "Being a vegan is genuinely unhealthy. There are plenty of nutrients in meat that you cannot get anywhere else. besides, tofu looks disgusting. It's all ... slimy and giggly." His expression showed his disgust. "Not to worry about that." He sat down on the edge of his bed and shock his head. "That won't be necessary, I assure you. Thank you for the offer, though. I have my books and my computer. Plus, with all the homework I am sure I'll be receiving, I'll hardly have time to watch television. Plus, as we've already established, I am not one for sports." He paused. "I am, however, a clever mixture of night owl and early bird. Generally, I don't get much sleep but do not worry. I am quick quiet in my activities and if for some reason I must be noisy, I am certain I can take my work elsewhere. A lobby or such." He paused a moment. Would it be appropriate to bring something like this up now? ... Well, better now then to walk in on something later. He cleared his throat and shifted, looking just slightly uncomfortable. "And if for one reason or another you wish for some ... privacy, please let me know before hand so that I may vacate the room of my presence." He looked thoughtful. "I have always heard of a hat or tie rule on the doorknob if such a system would work best for you. Mind you, I'd prefer not to use any of my ties for such a symbol." |
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[align=center] This ain't a love song This ain't a broken heart homie singing only cause he's lonely This ain't a whiskey drowned ballad, there ain't nothing here that's valid [/align] | |
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| wbicepuppy | Jul 15 2010, 02:01 AM Post #15 |
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godzilla complex
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At least they were on the same page on stupid things like vegan food. That could be considered a good thing! Maxim couldn't care less if his new roomie wanted to watch weird science-y shows on TV, God knew he'd watched a few himself (though mostly for reasons that were... less than pure), but if they had radically different diets, this would make getting along a lot harder. He had to laugh at the next topic Alan picked, though. "Jesus! You think of everything, don't you?" To the geek's credit, Maxim hadn't even considered such an eventuality. He'd never had to share his room, after all, and even when he lived back home, his parents knew better than to barge in while he had "company", especially after that one time with the blonde cheerleader-type girl. Well, they were both drunk that evening, the chick was especially vocal and his dad had to go on an important buisness trip on the next day. Understandable. While she (what was she called, again? Cindy?) had fled the scene, squealing as she struggled to pull her shirt back on, Maxim himself had taken this pretty well. "Don't worry about that, man." He reassured Alan. "If I'm planning to bring anyone here, I'll give you a call first. Just tell me your cellphone number." Of course, if all went as planned, he wouldn't HAVE to warn his roomie about something like this... |
| [I EAT CITY] | |
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