(no subject)

[ghoulaid]

Who: Fun Ghoul & Richie Tozier
What: YELLING WORDS AT KIDS. KIDS PROBABLY YELLING WORDS BACK.
Where: Within city limits.
When: Earlyish January. I am so good at this.
Warnings: Outrageous amounts of garbage language. Jesus take the entire automobile.

Poor Richie. He doesn't deserve to be stalked for a whole half a block, flanked, and then attacked.

Although attacked is a harsh description for what Ghoul ends up doing. The way he makes his presence known is by jumping directly in Richie's path with his arms outstretched and yelling, "Gotcha!", but how else is he supposed to approach the little bastard that's got his blaster? He's been looking for this shitty kid for, like, ever. Forever is a long time to go without any protection. He can't be blamed for being a little overzealous about it, right?

Comments

[trashmouths]

Oh, Jesus, he is not expecting that. Not that Richie is expecting anything other than a fucking heart attack during his stay in this place, he doesn't want it to come from a human.

Also, that yelp? Definitely not girlish at all. And he doesn't jump like a baby, either. Or take a few steps back and clutches his chest like an old man about to have a heart attack.

"Jesus fucking christ what's your problem?!" He's sounding more and more like Eddie every day, and it's then that he realizes who it is. Ghoul. The guy he's been avoiding like the plague because of the blaster.

Awh, shit.

[ghoulaid]

Holy shit. Did that sound come out of a human being? One more than 7 months old? Amazing.

Richie's reaction is the funniest thing Ghoul's seen so far here, hands down, but he forces himself to clench his jaw for the sake of maintaining a straight face. He's trying to come across as serious here, all right? Losing his shit over some kindergartner's pterodactyl screech would ruin the whole effect. "What's my problem?" He succeeds in remaining stony-faced and crosses his arms in a very Disapproving way. "Whatcha think, shortcake? What's my fuckin' problem?"

Here's a hint, it's green...

[trashmouths]

...and currently on Richie's person, so he shuffles his body so he's looking at Ghoul to the side, gun facing away.

He really was hoping to just kind of never give it back, and his nose wrinkles, bumping at his glasses. He brings a hand up to adjust them like it's second nature.

"Not even a how you've been?"

At least his heartrate's back to normal after the jump and wait hold on, hold the fuck on, did this guy just call him shortcake?

[ghoulaid]

"Damn, you're right, where's my manners." Wow, check that out, shortcake. Ghoul can be reasoned with. Maybe he's not so bad after all. He leans forward just a tad, perhaps to keep up with Richie's slight angling-away, and asks, "How's my blaster been?"

Oh. Nevermind.

[trashmouths]

"Uuuh--"

Congratulations, the Trashmouth has been stunned not once, but twice, and he clears his throat. There's no point in denying it, or lying about it, or anything of that sort, so he just launches into it:

"What if something totally fucking weird comes up again though! Why can't I just borrow it for a little longer? Please?"

[ghoulaid]

Zero sympathy. Zero. Look at that face. That's the face of a merciless killer.

Or the face of someone who's just sucked on a lemon, because is this kid joking? "Yeah, what if something comes up again? I gotta protect my ass, fuck you!" Ghoul's ass is valuable too, you know! "Did you even hit anything with it?"

[trashmouths]

"Yeah, like two things!" Richie's voice is raising, partially in panic and partially because Ghoul is yelling so he may as well match volume. "Can you at least teach me how to get one? It's my last line of defense, man."