It wasn't exactly a surprise that Cuthbert heard them long before he actually laid eyes on them. He was hardly a pretty picture himself, dirt-smeared and sweating, fresh from the jungle and another infuriating bout with that gods-be-damned goofy bird. He'd come at a run down the path, expecting to find either a pillow fight or a murder scene and coming upon something that was just about dead center between the two.
"What in the hell do you call this?" he called once he was in range, sounding at once genuinely concerned and more than a little bemused.
"Victory!" Brooke shouts, deciding that leaving herself entirely exposed to Ygritte's counterattack is worth the satisfaction of a fist pump. "Suck it, red!"
Ygritte charges herself forward in a tangle of sweaty limbs, flipping Brooke onto her stomach and sliding her hand into the tangle of her hair. She pulls up just a little, noting Cuthbert with a predatory gleam in her eye, and with the way she's straddling the small of Brooke's back, it's anyone's guess who's about to be ravished here.
"I believe you may suck it," she informs Brooke loftily. To Cuthbert, she says, "We are-- bonding, would y'say it?"
Well, now it was looking like something else entirely-- or maybe it had all along and he'd had his damned head up his ass-- and the silly stab of jealousy he felt at the sight of Ygritte on someone else did not even come close to extinguishing the other interesting feelings it inspired.
One of which was the incredibly fascinating sensation of being clubbed straight down into six feet of earth by a three hundred pound man who was only actually present in Bert's brain. But ye gods, was he ever managing to ruin the moment. Leave it to Cort. Still protecting his surrogate daughter from indecencies from beyond the veil.
"Bonding," he agreed, blinking, unable to keep a smile from creeping up at that last exchange. He dropped a wink at Ygritte, walked around to where he could meet Brooke eye to eye and fell into a hunker. "I go to all the trouble of making you a fancy stick and you let this one get the upper hand?"
"You'd like that far too much," Brooke mutters, watching Ygritte for a sign that she's about to be the one on her back. "Honestly, he's the one someone ought to be smacking the sass out of!"
Ygritte stretches out beneath her like the proverbial cat, smiling prettily before she dumps Brooke off to the side and begins a long and enthusiastic roll for power. "Aye," she pants, "but he's hardly irritating the livin' daylights out o'me!"
"You," she calls to Yorick, "Is this jello a weapon?"
And why aren't they doing it up at the Compound where Rachel can sell tickets. Cause seriously? That's kind of hot. Also, Brooke's going to get her ass kicked. Rachel rolls her eyes as she tightens her bikini top, boobs looking hot and ready for action.
"What the hell are you guys doing?" she asks, hands perched on her tan little hips.
"We're baking fucking cupcakes!" Brooke snaps, not in the mood for the sight of Rachel's perfect body when Brooke has sand in her underwear. She grips Ygritte's shoulders and tries to hold her down. "What the hell does it look like!"
"Brooke needed some help with her moods," Ygritte announces. "I'd be happy t'do the same for you next time you need it." If she's bothered by the appearance of Brooke having the upper hand, she doesn't show it.
At least not until she flips Brooke over and sits on her legs.
"I'm going to pass," Rachel says in a flat voice. She raises an eyebrow as Brooke quickly gets her ass handed to her. "So, does this mean next time that you're pissed off, I can beat you up?" she trills at a red-faced Brooke. She could probably arrange to actually sell tickets beforehand. She's pretty good at pissing Brooke off.
Alain caught only part of the ongoing fight, but it was enough and though he was hardly surprised at who was doing the fighting, he could not quite figure out why. If he stuck around long enough, he was sure he would find out, but knowing enough of both Brooke and Ygritte, he wasn't entirely certain that this was a safe place for any man to be.
Still, he couldn't help himself and called out to Brooke, "Who taught you to fight like that?"
"Don't even start with me, Alain," Brooke retorts. "You wouldn't do any better!" She pokes her finger at Ygritte's sternum, fully aware that she's risking having it smacked at, bitten, or broken off. "She fights dirty!"
"I DO NOT," bellows Ygritte. It's about the only accusation she would really respond to, and she's ready to drag Brooke off and throw her in the ocean for it.
She twists around until she can lock Brooke's head under her arm.
Alain laughed openly. "I know that I wouldn't. I would not try!" he called, grinning. He'd never quite known what to make of Ygritte, but he knew that he would underestimate her only to his peril. "Don't mind me, ladies," he added, possibly pushing his luck.
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"What in the hell do you call this?" he called once he was in range, sounding at once genuinely concerned and more than a little bemused.
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"I believe you may suck it," she informs Brooke loftily. To Cuthbert, she says, "We are-- bonding, would y'say it?"
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Well, now it was looking like something else entirely-- or maybe it had all along and he'd had his damned head up his ass-- and the silly stab of jealousy he felt at the sight of Ygritte on someone else did not even come close to extinguishing the other interesting feelings it inspired.
One of which was the incredibly fascinating sensation of being clubbed straight down into six feet of earth by a three hundred pound man who was only actually present in Bert's brain. But ye gods, was he ever managing to ruin the moment. Leave it to Cort. Still protecting his surrogate daughter from indecencies from beyond the veil.
"Bonding," he agreed, blinking, unable to keep a smile from creeping up at that last exchange. He dropped a wink at Ygritte, walked around to where he could meet Brooke eye to eye and fell into a hunker. "I go to all the trouble of making you a fancy stick and you let this one get the upper hand?"
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This is, of course, after he's made sure he's well out of smacking distance.
He jerks his thumb over his shoulder. "Should I go get the jello?"
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"You," she calls to Yorick, "Is this jello a weapon?"
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"So why the chick fight? Is this one of those gunslinger things?"
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And why aren't they doing it up at the Compound where Rachel can sell tickets. Cause seriously? That's kind of hot. Also, Brooke's going to get her ass kicked. Rachel rolls her eyes as she tightens her bikini top, boobs looking hot and ready for action.
"What the hell are you guys doing?" she asks, hands perched on her tan little hips.
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At least not until she flips Brooke over and sits on her legs.
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Still, he couldn't help himself and called out to Brooke, "Who taught you to fight like that?"
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She twists around until she can lock Brooke's head under her arm.
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