(no subject)

[likeamonster]

[There are monstrous roars, followed by human-esque groans of pain and deep panting from the alleyway. Follow it and you'll find an exhausted man huddled against a dumpster, pulling an abandoned jacket around himself. What do you do?

A. Offer some money and your own jacket?
B. Run the fuck away because HOLY SHIT WHAT WERE THOSE ROARS?
C. Help bring him to the nearest motel for a soft blanket, warm soup, and maybe sex in the shower?
D. Sit by him and tell him your life woes because its not like he's going anywhere?]

Comments

[moralimperative]

[Sorry, Blonsky, 'eccentric something' is about as far as anyone's ever gotten with that. He doesn't seem overly perturbed by the threat, which all in all is probably good for both of them when the soldiers round the corner with their flashlight. Chris just smiles pleasantly at them.]

Not since graduation. [He answers the first portion of their inquiry in that vague offhand way he has. One of the soldiers shifts awkwardly on his feet, muttering something that's unintelligible from this distance. Before they can say anything else, though, Chris speaks up again.] Brit with bad hair, though, I saw him just a little while ago. I don't get what all the fuss is about, really-- I mean sure he's good, but there are plenty of other people who can play piano, it's not like they're hard to come by.

[The soldiers are, understandably, thrown for a moment by the apparent non sequitur. Chris frowns at them, like somehow they're the ones wasting his time.] On television? What are you talking about?