*Pink*Sparkly*Sharks*

[raaaaeeg]

Name(s): XANXUS, Squalo Superbia [Closed?]
Location: [Area around the] Gamekeeper's Hut
Week: 51
Time: Monday, sometime shortly after crazy shroom soups were served
Rating: Likely R, mostly for language

Comments

[voooi]

He was already making his way out of his office, through the hallways and out the large doors of Hogwarts. He seemed to care little for his surroundings, completely ignoring anyone that may have been between his office and the gamekeeper's shack. He didn't know who the fuck this guy thought he was, but Squalo wasn't one to feel threatened. . . by much of anything really.

And especially not of some drunkard that was seeing pink ligers. There was obviously something wrong with the idiotic man.

"VOOOOOOOOOOOIIII!"

Now the silver haired man was striding across the grass, eyes focused in on the small building ahead- his destination. He wasn't even going to knock. Fuck that. No, the door is just going to be suddenly swung open as Superbia Squalo made his way over to the man with his glass of whiskey, pausing only a split second to glance in the liger's direction. Not that he doubted, exactly, but you never know. This is fucking Hogwarts, after all."THAT IS NOT FUCKING PINK, YOU DELUSIONAL DRUNKEN DUMBASS

[raaaaeeg]

It was irritatingly easy to hear the approach of the silver-haired man, what with him stomping his way across the lawn and fussing about. Xanxus was entirely unamused when the door to his hut flew open, though he's not about to show it. He was, in fact, in the middle of taking a long swig from his glass and doesn't even glance over at Squalo.

Bester, however, isn't about to ignore the intrusion and growls, rising to move beside Xanxus' chair where he settles down once more. Apparently the single warning growl was enough for him.

Only after the liger has curled up around his chair does Xanxus lower his glass from his lips. In one fluid motion, he whips the glass - whiskey and all - at Squalo's face.

I totally got this icon just for this. >:

[voooi]

He only spares a slight glance at the growl, not really caring one way or the other about it. He was decidedly not scared of an oversized house cat, after all. He was, however, annoyed at the fact that the man seemed to be ignoring him.

The moment he'd opened his loud mouth to yell some more, however, he got hit in the head by a glass of whiskey. It was by some luck that he had turned his head at that moment, so instead of getting it full on to the face. . . It simply hit the side of it. Effectively shattering the glass and depositing whiskey in his hair.

Such things did not make for a happy Squalo. His attention went back to the man and his stupid cat.

"VOOOOI! WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT FOR?!"