masturbatorium | this is fuckin' awesome

this is fuckin' awesome

Open RP Post

⊛ find a character you want to play with and respond to their thread. can't find who you want? let me know!
⊛ we can make up a scenario, adapt a meme of some sort, or... something else? whatever the fuck we want.
⊛ if you need ideas, the random scenario meme has just about anything you could want.
⊛ wanna do a picture prompt? we can do some picture prompts.
⊛ FUCK YEAH WE'RE TOTALLY ROLEPLAYING RIGHT NOW!!!

Handy-Dandy Quick Links:
Vanessa Cleveland ⊛ Catty Turner ⊛ Finnick Odair ⊛ Belle Beaumont ⊛ Chloe Saunders
Commander Shepard ⊛ Piper McLean ⊛ Jordan Langley ⊛ Jaime Lannister ⊛ Eli Keaton
Sally Malik ⊛ Corey Carling ⊛ Shadow ⊛ Fenris ⊛ Meetra Surik
Revan ⊛ Keiko Nakagawa ⊛ Alyss Heart ⊛ Ava ⊛ James
Percy Jackson ⊛ Frank Zhang ⊛ Helen ⊛ Jason Grace ⊛ David Levin
April O'Neil ⊛ Galen Marek ⊛ Reyna ⊛ Jackson Swift ⊛ Jaime Reyes
Fran Zhang (AU) ⊛ Jasa Grace (AU) ⊛ Piper McLean (AU) ⊛ Gretel ⊛ Sirius Black
Cullen ⊛ Liv Durand ⊛ Maddie Moss ⊛ Daniel Bianchi ⊛ Finley Odair (AU)
Persephone Jackson (AU) ⊛ Derek Hale ⊛ Raleigh Becket ⊛ Allison Argent ⊛ Liam Hunt
Seph McCauley ⊛ Jonah Kinlock ⊛ Edward Kenway ⊛ Aveline de Grandpre ⊛ Gale Hawthone
Will Scarlet ⊛ Korra ⊛ Carswell Thorne ⊛ Scarlet Benoit

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"Of course." She sounds amused, but also like she believes him. She's seen the effect herself; any luck he has seems to be of the terrible variety. She can respect, at least, that it's very rarely good luck that gets him out of it again. He's smarter than that. "Perhaps I get my fun out of the impossible, and not out of just letting things happen."

She downs the shot finally, before twisting in her seat. Liam's comment gets ignoring for the moment as her new friend opens his mouth and she cuts him off before even a word can get out. "No."

Bad luck is a family curse, as far as he's concerned. And it's just something that's part of his life, something that's made him work for what he has - and what he doesn't have just yet. "Uptight. Wound up. Insane."

He tries to not laugh into his drink when she shoots the other guy down before he can barely draw a breath to give whatever line he's spent all night working on. The man shoots her a confused look before glancing at Liam himself, as if he's rethinking whether him and Sophia are actually together. "You haven't heard what I was going to say."

"Coming from you, I'm willing to take that as a compliment."

She's turned her attention entirely back to Liam at this point. "Not interested." But apparently her conversation with Liam has convinced the newcomer that she's not 'wih' her flatmate. Which apparently gives him leave to reach out and touch her arm.

"Come on, don't be like hat. I just want to--"

What he wants to do, Sophia never finds ou. She grabs his hand and twists his arm up behind his back, before shoving him towards a nearby table. "Not. Interested."

The other patrons look up at the noise, and for a moment it seems like everyone is going to find the funny side of a guy his size being shut down by a small blonde woman. But then the guy is stumbling back to his feet and there's an ugly look on his face. He points.

Not at her, but at Liam. "He hit me!"

Apparently the bar doesn't find that as funny. Sophia turns back to her flatmate, exasperated. "Does this happen to you a lot?"

He hit me.

There's a vague look of surprise on Liam's face, even if he doesn't exactly feel surprised. He points at himself and mouths the word 'me', as if there was some other giant guy being accused of punching someone for being an overly pushy asshole.

There's the scrape of chairs on the floor as what looks like some of the guy's friends begin to get up. They had to have seen Sophia push their friend back, but they're guys. They're going to go for the big one and pretend he was the perpetrator.

With a sigh, Liam turns back to the counter and downs his last shot. "I'm not taking you out anymore," he tells Sophia before one of the guys grabs Liam by the shoulder and shoves him into the bar. His elbow comes back, catching the guy in the chest and shoving him away.

"Hey!" Her shout distracts the guy as Liam's elbow crashes into his chest, and her own punch surprises him further. There's a satisfying crunch as the cartilage gives way underneath her fingers, and Sophia is going to buy her self-defence tutor a giant bunch of flowers this Christmas.

"This is not you taking me out," she points out, kicking someone in the shin. "This is us visiting a place together. If you were taking me out, it would certainly not be to the kind of place where I have to--" Someone else tries to grab her, and she stamps on their food. "--do that. Besides, you can't blame me for this."

"I'm blaming you for this." Liam swings around just as another guy approaches, and he doesn't hesitate to slam his fist into the man's face, a gush of blood spraying against his skin as the idiot tumbles back over a table. If she wasn't so fucking beautiful, they wouldn't attract this kind of attention. Maybe he'll just drape her in a shawl or something next time.

If there's a next time.

He wants a next time, which is a strange thought, he realizes as he fights off another guy.

"Why not? Aren't you having fun doing that?"

"How could you possibly blame me for this?" There's a small chances she pauses to admire his form before elbowing someone in the throat. Minuscule, really. "He touched me."

At this point, Liam has probably been with her long enough to note some of her eccentricities. Like don't fucking touch her. This situation is therefore clearly not her fault.

A flicker of a smile crosses her lips at that second comment though. "I can't imagine what you're talking about."

"Easily. By saying that I blame you." Look, nobody ever accused Liam of being a total, 100% feminist or anything. Like ever. It's never happened. "That loser is at fault, too, but I don't really know him."

He just wanted a nice night out, getting plastered and forgetting his troubles for two seconds, and here comes this little sprite of a girl with her everything. He's pretty sure she's only doubled his bad luck.

Liam knows that she has issues witch physical proximity, but he can see the bartender pick up the phone, and they're about two seconds from having the cops breathing down on their necks. So he grabs her by the wrist and tugs her toward the exit.

"Women, I swear," he mutters under his breath.

"If you go around blaming the people you know for everything in your life, it's no wonder you've lost your friends," she remarks dryly, ducking under some flailing arm.

And then Liam is grabbing her and there's a flash of outrage where she nearly hits him, but - well. It's Liam. And he does have a point. There's no harm in a tactical retreat.

Still, the second they're outside, she wrests her arm from him. "Men</i," she mutters, at the same time as him.

"Different circumstances, Sophia. I lost them physically, not as friends."

He lets her arm go pretty easy once she starts jerking it away from him. An ice princess, untouchable. That's probably what attracted that loser in there, too.

"On the bright side, we got free drinks."

"Of course, my mistake." He lets go of her almost immediately, but he still gets an unimpressed look for his troubles. He's lucky, really; as the scene inside had just proven, it could have been a fist instead.

A slight frown crosses her expression at that, though. "We did not. I'll come back tomorrow with the money." A beat. "By myself. With your luck, he'll assume we're trying to rob the place."

He could have handled her fist. It would have sucked for their relationship, but he could have handled her fist if she tried to attack him.

"Why? We just got free booze. I'd say that was worth both the creep hitting on you and the ensuing fight." He pauses before grinning at her. "It's because I'm black, isn't it?"

"Neither of which was the bartender's fault," she points out. For all that she'd glared at the man, even Sophia could admit that he couldn't really be blamed for anything that had happened.

She does hit him then, smacking his upper arm. She'd wondered if that played into it at first, honestly, but after being around him long enough she's concluded that Liam honestly just attracts trouble, whether he means to or not. "That would be too easy."

She's right, of course. The bar isn't at fault, or its workers. Just assholes, being assholes, bothering people on a good night out. He sighs, shoving his hands into his pockets.

There's a hiss from him at the hit. "Hey, that stung." It wouldn't be the first time something happened because of his race. He doesn't have to be in America for racism to still be a thing, but he snorts at her words. "And what, I can't have it easy?"

"Good." There's absolutely no remorse to her tone. Despite - or maybe because - of the debacle inside, she's feeling relatively pleased with herself. Although some of that might be the alcohol starting to take effect. "And judging by approximately every interaction I've seen you have, no you can't. it's actually rather impressive, when you think about it. If I didn't know better, I'd say you were doing it deliberately."

"Not even close to being deliberate." It's not like he likes being stuck here, attempting to find a way back to Ithaca, back to Penny who's waiting for him. Her rubs a hand over his face, the pleasant buzz that started with the alcohol and the fight wearing off.

"Let's get out of here before they decide to follow us out."

She watches him rub his hand over his face curiously, wondering what he's thinking. She has to admit, she's never really had as much interest in another person as she has with Liam.

"All right." She nods her head left and starts to walk that way, indicating that he should follow. "There's a cafe down this way. It should be a little less exciteable."

And follow he does, because she's kind of his ride. And his couch to crash on. He shoves his hands into his pockets, making a face behind her back.

"Cafes don't tend to have alcohol, do they?" Getting jittery on coffee is not exactly the same thing.

She just sounds amused, not looking back to see what he's doing. He'll follow. "This is Europe. Of course the cafes have alcohol."

"I love Europe," he mutters, but there's a moment where a sharp pang hits him. He misses home, misses the familiar.

She hears the shift in his voice, and does stop. Just for a moment, enough time for him to catch up to her side. "The advantage is that our alcohol is much stronger than what you Americans call liquor." That's her being comforting.

Edited 2013-10-05 09:02 (UTC)

Well, that's different. They walk side by side now, his hands still shoved into his pockets. "Have you ever had American liquor? I wouldn't exactly judge until you did." He appreciates it.

She raises an eyebrow at him. "When did I ever make a statement I couldn't back up fact?" Or intimidate people into accepting her point of view. Winning is more important, sometimes.

"I can't go around checking Wikipedia every time you say you have a fact, Sophia." But he grins at her. For the most, she's pretty right. It's annoying.

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