(no subject)
Well, he’s new, of course, and he doesn’t exactly know how it all goes. That’s obvious from the way he pounded on the door and searched for a bell before entering. The fact that he’s not particularly happy is obvious as well, if one listens to his sotto voce soliloquy as he approaches:
“… fuck fuck fuck fucking hell Sadie goddammit engine stall motherfuckin’ transmission shit-assed lube job fucking mechanic cocksucking bald tires sonofabitch rain…”
He’s hard to miss: he’s in his mid-twenties, tall, bulky, swarthed in an oversized (even for him) black sweatshirt, a lip ring decorating the side of his frowning mouth, his arms crossed over his chest. “Intimidating” is a word that’s been used before. He’s also dripping wet, a small puddle of water collecting at his feet.
“My fucking car broke down in front of your fucking house,” he announces to the foyer. He doesn’t sound angry so much as he does annoyed; the swearing’s casual, not heated. “I forgot my goddamn phone, too.” He glances back at the door. “And I know I look like some sort of reject from every shitty teenage horror movie breaking and entering into a huge old house like this but fuck if I can’t think of a way to get to a phone quick otherwise and I guess I’ll just have to ward off the motherfucking axe-wielding maniacs with my fists and nasty-ass taco-breath.”
It occurs to him that that might’ve been a little too harsh in a house where he’s an unwanted guest, and he tones it down. “Besides, no one answered the door. It was open. So I won’t try to take anything except a few cents' worth of your phone bill.”
Typist: Say hallo to Dave Micklejoen, Anton Next/OCspawn. He’s a nice guy, really, just sort of bristly; he also has some backstory with the Pendergast story (namely, going to school with Ryan), so if you’re a Pendergast it’s possible you know him.)
“… fuck fuck fuck fucking hell Sadie goddammit engine stall motherfuckin’ transmission shit-assed lube job fucking mechanic cocksucking bald tires sonofabitch rain…”
He’s hard to miss: he’s in his mid-twenties, tall, bulky, swarthed in an oversized (even for him) black sweatshirt, a lip ring decorating the side of his frowning mouth, his arms crossed over his chest. “Intimidating” is a word that’s been used before. He’s also dripping wet, a small puddle of water collecting at his feet.
“My fucking car broke down in front of your fucking house,” he announces to the foyer. He doesn’t sound angry so much as he does annoyed; the swearing’s casual, not heated. “I forgot my goddamn phone, too.” He glances back at the door. “And I know I look like some sort of reject from every shitty teenage horror movie breaking and entering into a huge old house like this but fuck if I can’t think of a way to get to a phone quick otherwise and I guess I’ll just have to ward off the motherfucking axe-wielding maniacs with my fists and nasty-ass taco-breath.”
It occurs to him that that might’ve been a little too harsh in a house where he’s an unwanted guest, and he tones it down. “Besides, no one answered the door. It was open. So I won’t try to take anything except a few cents' worth of your phone bill.”
Typist: Say hallo to Dave Micklejoen, Anton Next/OCspawn. He’s a nice guy, really, just sort of bristly; he also has some backstory with the Pendergast story (namely, going to school with Ryan), so if you’re a Pendergast it’s possible you know him.)