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Post by Rogue on Oct 25, 2006 5:35:09 GMT
"Well… yeah…. Yes, now.”[/color]
"Ten mo' minutes." It's not a question, but not an insisting whine, either. It's a statement. Still, it's strange how far into childish behavior her boredum has ventured them into, now, she muses, as she walks over to the candle that's still burning on the dresser and blows it out.
Not to be cruel, or anything, but she really doesn't want to be any more singed than normal, and, even though this is John, and he wouldn't hurt her, because that would just not be like him - even if he tries to make it seem like he's cold and heartless, she knows him better than that...even moreso with him in her head, now - he could still threaten to torch other things in her room - a threat that she knows isn't made just for kicks.
"In the meantime, wha' should we do?"
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Post by Pyro on Oct 25, 2006 6:22:45 GMT
Is that insistence in her voice? Two can play at that game, and he’s obviously so much better at it, so much more used to accepting that of course people will do exactly what he…
Nope, that’s too predictable, isn’t it (and besides, she’s at least as stubborn as he is, only in a more crafty as less forceful way)? This Mexican standoff has dragged on long enough as it is… besides, not as if he can’t see exactly what her game is…
”Crafty” he slyly smirks ”But not crafty enough. You don’t think I can make it, do you?” Okay… so whether he’s sensing doubt in her or just focusing that within himself which he refuses to admit to is up for debate, but the point remains. This is a challenge. 10 minutes without a lighter… should be easy, right?
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Post by Rogue on Oct 25, 2006 6:35:03 GMT
”Crafty. But not crafty enough. You don’t think I can make it, do you?”
"Nope..." she chirps, with an almost angellic grin. It could have been angellic, if not for the mischeviousness behind it. She moves over towards him a little. She'd sit down, if she knew he wasn't going to lunge at her the moment she did. There pants had no pockets to hide it in, either.
She instead moves to sit on the end of the extra bed, where he'd been earlier.
"'M willin' t'bet on tha', acctually. Not money, 'cause tha' ain' no fun... Y'pick y'terms, an' I'll pick mine. S'prise stakes." She grins, triumphant in her newest cure for boredum - so long as he accepts, but she's sure his pride will make him call it. "What'a y'say, sugah?"
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Post by Pyro on Oct 25, 2006 6:49:51 GMT
Ladies and gentlemen, to your right, a rock. To your left, a hard place.
He can’t not call it, that’s the genius of her plan… and it really is genius, and if anyone else was on the receiving end he’d sit back and admire how she played it, and maybe pretend it was that she’d learnt it from the best instead of any natural mischievous spark. But it’s trained on him now…
… Shit. Hmm. John shifts as she sits, pulling back and creating more space between them (because hell, if she’s going to get all untrusting, then he’s not above reminding her which one of them has the toxic skin) as he affects deep contemplation. ”10 minutes… no lighter. That the limit of your sadism, or has the mean streak got anything else to chuck at me?” It’s almost a challenge… which means that it definitely is one, just one she doesn’t have to rise to.
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Post by Rogue on Oct 25, 2006 6:59:49 GMT
”10 minutes… no lighter. That the limit of your sadism, or has the mean streak got anything else to chuck at me?”
She decides to forgo the "streak" comments, since it's just way too easy - hair, streak...yeah, that was a bad pun - and simply raises an eyebrow. "Depends. How sadistic y'gonna make me get?"
But no, she doesn't have anything in mind, not really. Unless...
"Well. Acctually, now tha' y'mention it - n'fire at all durin' tha' time. Y'got oth'r lighters, s'it's gotta b'part'a th'deal. B'sides, where's th'fun in havin' this thang..." she trails off to hold the lighter up a little, snap it open and closed quickly, "...if I can' play with it while I got it? Since y'ain' ev'r gonna let m'play with it again, m'guessin'..."
She's proud of herself for thinking of that one. If he had access to other fire sources, and was happilly playing with fire, of course the time won't seem to be such a big deal, and he'd easily win and she'd end up doing what he chose - likely someting humiliating, like what she has in mind for him would be.
This way...she has a better chance of coming out on top.
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Post by Pyro on Oct 25, 2006 7:05:21 GMT
Shit.
Now that’s just cruel and unusual (and sneaky and devious, scowl, spotting that little loophole he could quite happily have exploited had she not been quite so quick… sigh. Having Bobby as his only sparring partner has made him slow, it seems, stopped him thinking about those sorts of things because they just don’t occur to the blonde, blue-eyed, blizzard inducing Boy Scout). No fire whatsoever…
…Snap…
No. It’s not a problem. It’s only ten minutes. He can handle 10 minutes.
”Whatever..." (yes, that would be the I so don't care voice, which isn't fooling anyone, but as the man said, whatever). "You’ve got yourself a bet.”
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Post by Rogue on Oct 25, 2006 7:11:23 GMT
She can see that for a split second - not even, really, it's more of a flash than anything - he's not pleased by the latest addition to the bet. If she didn't know him so well, it wouldn't have shown through at all, she was sure. ”Whatever...You’ve got yourself a bet.”
"M'kay."
She rises, and moves to the nightstand between the two beds, and sets the alarm clock, making sure the volume is on low enough that it won't disturb anyone
"Ten minutes...startin' now." she chirps, and sits back down, eyes on him, and a small smirk-smile on her face. This was going to be good.
Clink.
Clink.
Clink.
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Post by Pyro on Oct 25, 2006 7:17:51 GMT
Right... 10 minutes.
John has been labelled hyperactive often enough to know the golden rules of waiting; don’t think about what you’re waiting for, don’t try to count the wait because you’ll get bored, and above all don’t look at the clock... Right. Not a problem. He can wait. He’s good at waiting (yeah, that doesn’t sound like a lie at all.... nope).
15 seconds...
Not a bad timewaster that, really....
... what the hell does he do now?
30 seconds
Waiting in itself isn’t that great, though, is it? You really have to be doing something else... something like..
No. Not going down that road. No way... even though the spare lighter is heavy in his pocket and just begging to be be...
No. Can’t let her win.
45 seconds...
If only she'd stop staring. He glares back with a pointed Yeah, and?
....
Okay... focus dammit. What can he do to kill time?
Think of ways to torture her when he wins... which he will, of course...
Only problem is finding a way which doesn't revolve around...
1 minute
He sneaks a glance at the clock... one minute. There. Not so hard, right? 9 to go...
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Post by Rogue on Oct 25, 2006 7:27:40 GMT
She returns the look with a raised eyebrow and an innocent what? look of her own. The innocent smile can't help but turn mischevious, though, when she notices him eyeing the clock. Getting restless already, was he?
Clink.
Clink.
Now she undertands why he's always playing with this thing.
Clink.
It's addicting.
Clink.
Very addicting...
Clink.
What started out as an attempt to drive him crazy was more entertaining than it had any right to be.
Clink.
He was going to break, she muses with a mental mischevious, almost "evil" laugh.
Clink.
Muahahahaa...
Clink.
Clink.
She giggles out loud. Not evil sounding, though, just a normal, stifled laugh, as the whole situation is highly amusing.
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Post by Pyro on Oct 25, 2006 7:34:20 GMT
1 minute 15
‘Course, this is about more than just beating her. It’s an independence thing. Proving he can do without some stupid toy. Because he doesn’t need it. Really. He’s doing just great without...
...Clink...
...Clink...
...Click...
She’s not even doing it properly, is she? It’s meant to go click-clink...
1 minute 30
Bored and pissed off... aren’t those the emotions this was meant to get rid off?
No matter. Back to the thinking, because it’s easier than the trying not to.
Who’d have thought 10 minutes could be so epic? Hell, two are an absolutely herculean task... So... this is a quest of sorts.
1 minute 45
Yep. Hold onto that image, because it’s a good one.
... Although hardly a perfect one, because he can’t quite cast himself as the hero and Rogue as the villain and keep a straight face. Bobby’s the hero. Always has been. Knight in shining armour, with a great white steed and a shining sword, off to fight...
Oh shit. What do knights fight again? That’s right. Dragons. And dragons breathe...
2 minutes
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Post by Rogue on Oct 25, 2006 7:48:09 GMT
The laughter fades, after a moment.
Clink.
Clink.
Laugh.
It's weird, it's not like there's anything specific to laugh at - he's not making any more faces, not really, so that's not what she's laughing at - it's just the staring, the near-silence punctuated by the clinking of the lighter that she ensures is repetitive, patterned.
Just long enogh between opening and closing where he could get a glimpse of the flame...and it would close again. Just enough that the sound would, eventually, get on anyone's nerves.
Clink.
She hadn't realized how cruel she's capable of being, before. Definetly not normal, but very fun anyway.
Clink.
Clink.
How long has it been now? She hasn't been keeping track, but it can't have been more than a minute or two. Too bad she didn't still have his powers - that would definetly give her an edge even more. She can just imagine the look on his face if she'd started playing with the fire...
Clink.
That would have been awesome.
Clink.
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Post by Pyro on Oct 25, 2006 15:03:10 GMT
2 minutes 15
Steady on, man. You’re losing it
... clink ...
... clink ...
... clink ...
It would be a lie to say that John was unaware until now exactly how annoying that noise - is – because the annoyance is where at least part, and more like most, of the appeal in clicking the Zippo just a little too loud lies.
2 minutes 30
For fuck’s sake, how hard can it be not to think about fire? It’s not that he can’t find anything else, is it? That’s just stupid. The problem is merely that instead of trying he’s just sitting here, scowling, which is hardly the most diverting thing. There have to be other, more interesting things in her room… somewhere.
2 minutes 45
She didn’t say he couldn’t get up, did she?
He heads over to the dresser, trusting that she, like any *normal* person, will have accumulated a load of junk there which seems to exist for no purpose other than to sit on dressers and fireplaces and look sort of naff…
… of course, it’s the candle that grabs his attention, because the wick is still smoking and if he just concentrated hard enough then maybe that orange glow would flare and…
No. No way. What else is there?
3 minutes
She didn’t say he couldn’t play with lighters, did she? Only fire. That empty one she rejected earlier is an absolute godsend, it seems, and he smirks smugly as he retrieves it – ”Look ma, no fluid. Which means no flame” Suck on that
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Post by Rogue on Oct 25, 2006 20:14:50 GMT
He gets up, wandering across the room - so obviously close to breaking, now. Antsy. She just watches, smiling slightly, but says nothing.
Clink.
Then he's got a lighter in hand, and she's about to say something, when he speaks. ”Look ma, no fluid. Which means no flame”
Clink.
She sees where this is going now. He's settling for a poor imitation to give himself something to do. He probably expects her to respond with some sort of 'no fair' or soemthing, but it is fair, technicallly. Doesn't mean it's going to do him a whole lot of good, though.
"'Kay." she says with a single-shoulder shrug and a smirk, one hand tucking a strand of hair behind her ear where it belonged. "Have fun."
Clink.
Clink.
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Post by Pyro on Oct 26, 2006 21:36:04 GMT
< ”Have fun”
”Oh, I intend to” he returns the smirk, segueing into a aren’t you frickin’ hilarious? scowl and finally a fake-bright yep, pretty pleased with myself grin, the effect of which is ultimately mildly schizophrenic… which is of course fitting, since underneath it all he’s losing his mind…
… no, that’s just idiotic. No one loses their mind over a lighter, for fuck’s sake.
3 minutes 15
He takes a seat at the end opposite where she’s sat, finally having settled on the self satisfied smirk and meeting her eyes head on because he’s going to win this one. No way she’s going beat him.
…clink…
CL-CHINK
Yep, no way. Not how he’s found a way of occupying himself (a really, really stupid way, but whatever) and winding her up, matching each clink from her trophy (which he just knows she’s deliberately exaggerating exactly the way he always does…) with one from his cheap substitute. It’s not big, and no one other than him would think it clever, but if it works…
…clink…
CL-CHINK
3 minutes 30
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Post by Rogue on Oct 27, 2006 22:44:21 GMT
”Oh, I intend to”
Clink.
CL-CHINK.
Rogue laughs slighty, watching his changing expressions with amusement as he tries to settle on just one. Now he's meeting her eyes, smirking, and she smiles sweetly (innocently), at him, even though she really wants to let out an "evil" laugh. She won't, though.
Clink.
CL-CHINK.
Is he trying to bug her? Not going to work - she's having too much fun for that to get annoying. Normally, however, it would have worked, and she knows it, that's part of what makes it more amusing.
Clink.
CL-CHINK.
Well, hopefully this won't distract him for long, because she's almost worried that whatever he chooses for her to do will be bad. It's just something about his miscevious side that she doesn't know if she wants to know what he'd pick. Hers isn't so bad - humiliating, maybe, but not bad. Though, he wouldn't really make her do anything genuinely dangerous, right? He's not a bad person, or anything, so there's really nothing to worry about.
Besides. She's going to win, so it doesn't matter anyway.
Clink.
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