((I promise this blog is not dead I just need a break because I’m a lame-o who get’s tired out by writing.))

jo-egbert replied to your post: hey ross! i’ve just (recently) met you, and this is kinda crazy, but I got anon’ed, so can I kiss you, maybe? :D

haha, I’m not asking you to marry me, you know. just a kiss. on the cheek? on the hand? air kiss? i can do that.

I guess on the cheek could work but this is still quite faster than could be reasonable expected.  Not that I expected anything.

Um…

Uh…

What?  

I mean this is rather sudden and I um…

That is…

*He ran his hands through his hair.*

I don’t even know you right I mean sort of but you’re not the Joan I know and I don’t really think this is the wisest move this soon 

The week between terms ((still) Open RP)

flightylad:

flightylad:

Grabbing his laptop and stuff it in his bag Ross headed out.  

It was the end of summer term, and he had two weeks before the next term began, more than enough time to try and get some writing done. 

fifteen minutes later he was sitting in a small coffee shop, hands busily working his keyboard with only short breaks for his drink.  

Closing his laptop Ross got up, dumping his cup, and the remains of his coffee into the trash.  He began to walk to the subway

Getting off 10 minutes later he headed for Central Park, sitting down on a bench and taking out his laptop again, resuming his writing.

The sun setting he got back up, heading back to his dorm.

The week between terms (Open RP)

flightylad:

Grabbing his laptop and stuff it in his bag Ross headed out.  

It was the end of summer term, and he had two weeks before the next term began, more than enough time to try and get some writing done. 

fifteen minutes later he was sitting in a small coffee shop, hands busily working his keyboard with only short breaks for his drink.  

Closing his laptop Ross got up, dumping his cup, and the remains of his coffee into the trash.  He began to walk to the subway

Getting off 10 minutes later he headed for Central Park, sitting down on a bench and taking out his laptop again, resuming his writing.

In my defense I’ve been trying to cut back on frivolous analysis.  Regardless I’m curious why you don’t use your own words instead of those of John Deacon?

Also I’d most certainly say I don’t always get my way.  In fact more often than not I don’t.

The week between terms (Open RP)

Grabbing his laptop and stuff it in his bag Ross headed out.  

It was the end of summer term, and he had two weeks before the next term began, more than enough time to try and get some writing done. 

fifteen minutes later he was sitting in a small coffee shop, hands busily working his keyboard with only short breaks for his drink.  

hisimperiouscondescension:

Condesce keepts his expression undecipherable besides the slight raise of the eyebrow at the comeback he recieved over his already planned funeral. He had placed down his can, the scent wafting from it causing a slight sense of repulsion. Glancing up as Ross’ fingers stopped working on the scarf.

“Ah, I do believe we were. Antagonizing seems to be one of my many prominent traits.”

He shifted his head in a moment’s notice, not having to actually look back to know the needle had more or less likely lodged itself into the place where he had been once sitting. It took only a moment’s notice to have his trident out, twirling it almost nonchalantly in one of his palm, but careful to keep a firm grip.

“Though you hate me, I do believe it’d be quite hard to explain to your roommate or whomever you must address to as to why your dorm has become so destroyed if your looking for a strife within these walls.”

“Quite right.  I suggest we move to the roof or perhaps the park.  We can make an good old fashioned human date.”

He got up and walked forward, grabbing the needle lodged in the wall behind Condesce’s head.  

“Maybe I could see a movie with your severed head afterwards.”

He smirked as he yanked it out of the wall. 

(Source: flightylad)

hisimperiouscondescension:

Condesce took his time with his own drink, careful not to drink too fast or take it to the head just yet. A clear mind was always his preference. Peering over in a brief examination of the scarf before settling back. His clawed fingertips drummed faintly on the can he held.

“Oh, well doesn’t that sound marvelous. I’ve always wanted my death to have fireworks. There’s always been something about explosives that I’ve found fascinating.”

His lips twitch into a slight smile at the other’s words, before he leans back in his given seat once more.

“Yes, I do find it as a victory. I would’ve gone so far as to taunt you into trying to do so if it weren’t for the fact you’d be more than willing to take the offer.”

“Well I’ll be sure to get the proper licensing for the fireworks.  I wouldn’t want the police to break up your funeral cum celebration.”

Another sip, another row.

“So we’ve both been spouting hot air at each other for the purpose of antagonizing  each other?  Forgive me if I feel I had enough of that for a lifetime with my father.”

Another sip, but Ross didn’t move to his next row.  

“So let’s try this.”

He threw a needle at Condesce’s head.

(Source: flightylad)