kyouyasangels_inc

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...arrr

[Ambles aimlessly into a room...any room, a half-drunk bottle of rum dangling precariously from his hand, is a creature wearing what resembles a ratty and tattered old naval jacket and looks like...well, Scruffington, full on beardy 'n' shit. He reeks of alcohol and who knows what else. His brown hair is matted and only part of it is even still fastened together by a ribbon.

He slumps against the wall.]

What's the use? [He takes a generous swig]

There's nothing. Not even the most spectacular breasts I'd ever seen. Who bloody cares anymore? Not I, not James, that's who!

[His voice only got louder with his proclamation and he resists the urge to start letting it rain on his face. Instead he drinks so much more of the rum it dribbles down into his beard. Classy.]

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[Badou's in the room too, whatever room this is, we'll pull something out of our assholes eventually. He's happily nursing a beer, as happy as some poor shmuck dragged tooth, nail (get it) and underwear into angsty side plots. The mournful wailing of the nightingale puts an amused edge to his happy sucking (..........). Wow what a loser, crying into his beard, ratchet ass drunk. Naturally, he has to speak up, man to...weepy. His conscious can't let this go]

C'mon bro, cheer up. There's plenty of titties in the titty sea. 'm sure once you get your welfare check you'll have enough cold hard cash to twerk it to your hearts content. [You guessed it. No recognition flashes in that single green eye. You're shit outta luck, brah.]

Edited (poop) 2013-02-28 09:03 (UTC)

[~~HAPPY SUCKING IM GONNA LOSE IT~~

James looks up, peering through a lock of ratchet-ass hair (but not ratchet ass-hair, for that is something completely different). Something feels familiar about this strange bloke. That same something--is it sweet inebriation?--tells James he should feel like there's no mistaking that peculiar accent and liberal use of the term or some variation of the term 'titties'. Twerk? Who even knew what that meant? When was the last time he felt this much bewilderment?

Leave it to this ginger fellow to come (...........) just at Norrington's time of distress. Sadly, he is too down in the dumps (picture this, because actually it's like...perfect. well, maybe with a little more alcohol here)--not to mention drunker than a sailor, or even worse, a pirate--to be thrilled at the company, but he spilled his guts anyway, because of the many facts in this world, one will remain true for as long as the sun rises and sets: James Norrington can't handle his liquor.]

Look, mate, it's my own...what's the phrase, bear to cross? Cross the bear? Cross to bear, yes, that one. I'm not lerreally the religionous type.

[James grunts with his inability to express himself, though he finds he doesn't care. He almost feels like laughing, if it didn't border on crying--but, since he is wasted, that's precisely what he did. Started laughing, only to break down sobbing.]

Yes, but...her titties were...the ones...

[sniffles sadly]

You reek of tobacco, man. ...you got an extra?

((my mind totally went to Tim Allen's grunt from Home Improvement do u know the one... also, I can't wait for the reaction, I cannot fucking wait))

~~I'VE ALREADY LOST IT ALL OVER IN THE ASS!!!~~

[Badou takes a healthy swallow (.............) of his drink, waiting for this wrecked asshole to peek through the fog of his brain and make sense. He was not disappointed in the confusing shit that slipped out, eliciting a snort from Badou.] I sure as fuck hope you ain't doin' anythin' to bears. I've dealt with enough furies in my time to know where that's goin'. It's all fun an games till you get your dick clawed up.

[Sighing, unsure as to why he feels compelled, he climbs to his feet and saunters over to Norrington's table or whatever with that juicy booty of his. Plopping down, planting his six pack onto the table with a thunk, he adds to this Great Lament] Stop fuckin' cryin, you pussy. There's other pussy an titties in the sea. You suck it up like a man till you get back to your shack an cry an drink alone in the tub.

[The crying sure sounded familiar. The wobble-y, nasally, constipated sound. Badou peered at the guy while rooting around for a cigarette, but couldn't quite put his finger on it (...........) yet. He fetches one for the Tit Lamentor and one for himself, lighting up immediately.] I guess. Just don't light yourself on fire or anythin', I ain't gettin put in the slammer. I'll have those bastards worshipin me in no time. Anarchy everywhere.

[Yeah ok Badou, we all know you'll be someone's bitch]

You shoulda put a ring on those titties if you didn't wanna lose em to some dickhole then, bro. Jesus.

(I'M SHITTING JUST IMAGING THAT GRUNT! I KNOW THE ONE EXACTLY! I canotihdfoidhfodifh AHHHHHHH THIS IS SO FUCKING BEAUTIFUL)

[Norrington doesn't notice the snort from Badou, or understand what he's saying, really -- but what else is new? – but if you think that bothers him you got another thing comin’, and he plows on (..........) in all his poor eighteenth-century ignorance.]

Well, I can HARDLY imagine a man getting his ol’ one-eye clawed by a bear is anybody’s idea of fun, though I don’t suppose much else can feel worse than losing all you have...even your ship... Maybe especially your ship...and...those—her t—

[But then Badou’s talking about other pussy and titties in the sea and Norrington knows he’s right—and the more Norrington blearily squints at Badou’s face, the freckles of which won’t stop moving to Norrington’s drunk-ass eyes, the more feeling of you should know who this weird ginge is grew ~~...............no homo..........or.....~~ but of course the former naval officer was too drunk to pay it any attention so he set about working on the really important things, like lighting the cigarette.

Which took a long time. You can imagine.

Once he’d finally managed it, mumbling the whole way (something about tubs and how he didn’t remember what baths felt like, something that surprised absolutely nobody, I mean have you SMELLED that beard lately) he took a long, slow drag—which, of course, only resulted in no less than fifteen violent coughs from the seaman (lol). As a result, Norrington gracelessly yanked a beer from the six-pack...but couldn’t get it open, no matter how hard he hit the top of it with the rum bottle (which was, of course, making most of the rum slosh out).

So he took another, more successful, drag from the cigarette this time.]

Thanks for the fag, mate. Been craving one a while, even though I’ve never done it before. Just always looked like something a man in my state would need, yeah? I don’t think I’ve quite got the sucking down just right, though.

[his entire speech is riddled with coughs]

Worshipping? No, I don’t do all that. Well, unless you count the perfect breasts of Elizabeth Swann.

[and then it is the tears and snot for poor ol’ James and Badou all over again... (but it really never stopped)]

[Badou gives Norrington his patented bitch face #13, eyebrow cocking in wry amusement. This motherfucker could not get any lamer, could he? Inquiring minds.] Ol' one eye? Really? An ship? Your wooden loin fetish is kinda creepin me out, brah. Go with pork sword, at least swords're manlier. Stabbin' that velvety...sheath an shit.

[Have no doubt, Badou totes feels the smell fucking coiling off every particle of hair on that man's head (...........), which is why he's leaned as far away as possible and breathing shallowly through his mouth and switching to his singed nose hairs when he can ~~all of the homo~~. The ginger also finds himself with his chin in his palm, assholishly admiring the way Norrington nearly coughed up his balls through his asshole.]

Wow, didja know you just turned doo doo hole brown? Not only are you a pussy, you're a lightweight to boot. Jesus Hernando christ. You need a ratchet ass, dirty, nasty rebound, soul brotha. Desperately. An you're just the kinda desperate that you might get a discount. Plus your legs go on forever.

[The fag speech causes Badou to sputter helplessly, hand clutching his tit in mock affront. He's having a really hard time taking (...........) this guy seriously, can you tell? Just another piss poor, stinky drunk in tacky piss stains.] Fag? Is that all I am to you? Fag supply? How fuckin dare you, dickhole, I'm a nice lady- badass! Hard boiled as fuck.

[Though when Norrington's words sink in (...........) and the name he warbles lustfully, soulfully, and cock weepily registers, Badou drops the beer he'd yoinked back from Norrington like a fart in an eye. I-it...nonononononon. It can't be. This motherfucker vanished to his world and wood pecking his ship with his pecker. There was no way....but that...crying...and the snooty tude, even drowned beneath the waves of alcohol. Badou's heart went doki doki] .....Sl-slim Jim?

[Scruffington laughs (although it's hard to tell where a laugh ends and a sob begins, or where there was only ever a sob...), sloshing his rum everywhere, including all over Badou. Sorry bro.]

Pork sword! That's brilliant! [slaps Badou on the back with a hit so hard he nearly sends the redhead flying into the six-pack, not noticing the cocky (........) way he was looking at Scruffington before] Does that imply a certain meatiness to it as well? Pork, of course, coming from--well, I'unno where. Pork sword!

[Careful, Norrington, if you keep saying it someone will think there's a reason...other than the obvious extreme drunkenness]

I'll have to remember that one!

[He won't remember it.

But anyway, he as usual has not understood but three (and that's generous) of the redhead's words involving something about a "rats chest" but went to take a good, long swig of the beer Badou had opened for him--before he realized it had been dropped.

Then he saw it, clearer than, well, most things, at this point in alcoholism--one large, green eye staring widely at him. The last few shudders and shakes of a crying fit left him as the words of the Ginge, so carefully uttered like a chain-smoker's on the wind or some other gay stuff like that, no homo (whispers all the homo) swirled around inside his alcohol-riddled head.

Sl-slim Jim?

Then with the force of a thousand cockful oceans (full of pork swords) Norrington has a flash of a memory so quick he's not sure how he caught it--that smell...like he was drowning in an ocean of cigarettes...he remembered it once before...and something about a bed.

And then the tears are brimming in his eyes again and in a single (actually three) graceful (he knocked over the six-pack and almost the table) motion (stumbling) he threw his arms around his old buddy, his old pal. His baby mama.]

I-I-I'VE MISSED YOU SO MUCH

[he blubbers into Badou's hair, using it at tissue to wipe away the snot and boogers freely flowin']

OH, OF COURSE YOU WOULD BE THE ONE TO T-TEACH ME ABOUT PO-PORK SWORDS

MY ONLY FRIEND IN THIS WOOOOOORLD

[Slim Jim is starting to sound like the saddest bird on the planet. Nothing new, really.]

But'ah'm su-sorry, I can't seem to remember your name...

AAYYY WHAT THE FUCK, THIS AIN'T A SPLASH ZONE FOR YOUR TYPE OF SHIP YOU FUCK! I'M GONNA CALL SHAMOO ON YOU, DICKMUNCH! [Is all Badou has the chance to bitchly utter with so much conviction before he's set up with an arm and hair full of scruffy, stinky, pathetic ex-commodore/cassanova of the titties.
But. The tears and blubbering, hell, even the boogers landing like manly discretion in his scalp, is enough to make him soften (......). Winding an arm around his companion, Badou pats Norrington on the back and scoffs, fond and bemused.]

You've really letcher self go, assdouche. The King'll be hella disappoint in your lack of protectin' your Manly Crown from heartless bitches with lopsided tits. C'mon, man, snap the fuck out of it!

[Dripping wetter than he's been in years (moshi moshi, homo desu?), feels aflying, Badou takes one listen to the rest of that hysterical, drunken blurb and yanks Norrington out of his arms, stomach dropping out his ass, reeling a fist back to punch him in the fucking mouth. Badou's expression is utterly wrecked with a side order of murderous, jaw clenched, eye burning with rage. The fist he used (.........) to punch his buddy trembles at his side. From the after affects of knocking around such a hard, useless, titty filled head. Not from Feels. After all they'd been through, this is all it's worth? Karma can eat his ding dong, kthanks.]

I CUNTIN REFUSE TO BE THE NOAH TO YOUR GODDAMN (yet really smoking hot) ALLIE! I CAN'T SEEM TO REMEMBER YOUR NAME!?!? I CAN'T SEEM TO FUCKIN REMEMBER WHAT IT FEELS LIKE TO KICK YOUR BONEY ASS, HOW BOUT YOU REMIND ME?!

Edited 2013-03-11 06:01 (UTC)

I don't know the use in 'snapping out of it', because it's never gotten me anywhere. But maybe it's time I start trusting you...you did bring this stuff, after all.

[Norrington gestures to the beer before he returns the pat on the back, only way too hard (........................................................i'm...), sending Badou stumbling forward. But it's all forgotten in the chaos that ensues...

Any mention of assdouches and lopsided tits and something about the King disappeared from James's mind as he watched his redheaded companion get up faster than he'd ever seen (--wait...ever?--) then, Badou's strange words really became lost in an intense exploding pain in the front of Slim Jim's mouth as--was that blood?--he stumbles back.

He spits out a tooth and some blood amidst Badou's hysterical shouting, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before he fixes the shouting ginge with a glare.

Then, as the last words leave the angry mouth of an angry one-eyed god, Norrington's own beautiful hazel eyes...I mean...drunken-ass bloodshot eyes fill with the biggest tears you ever seen't and he begins sobbing brokenly.]

I-I ca-can't believe I forgot the m-m-mother of our--our--!

Allie? Was that her name?

[sniffles and squints blearily at Badou]

Is your name Noah, then?

~~keep trying James...keep trying to get out of that grave you're digging, it ain't gon' happen~~

Edited 2013-03-20 13:29 (UTC)

((P.s I'm totes listening to 'With or without you' rn for fagly inspiration)...also idk this thing is a piece of hot poo)

[Badou feels a strange, sick sense of joy whilst watching that tooth speckled with blood sail across the air and hit the ground in a sort of slow motion. Numbly he hopes that, being an English grandpa, Norrington doesn't expect him to pay for a new tooth and shit. Because he refuses. He doesn't even have eye insurance, let alone goddamn pearly whites, fuck off.
When he snaps out of it Norrington is just as pathetic and simpering as ever, and the beer that's been spilled everyfuckingwhere is stained across his crotch like he's pissed himself. Badou's lazy eye observes all. What really gets him are the stupid words that tumble out of the guys' mouth like watery diarrhea.]

....Noah? Noah. WHO THE FUCK IS NOAH?! I'M GUESSIN IT'S GONNA TAKE A FEW MORE POUNDINGS TO STRAIGHTEN THE ROCKS IN YOUR FUCKIN' HEAD! [As he passionally proclaims his feelings for his friend he looms over the english gent and brings his foot down heavily upon his gut, all swishy and full of booze as it is, and grinds his heel in. Wow this new aggressive part of Badou is kind of hot. His blood boils and his teeth clench and he's clearly hysterical and he can't fucking believe! That this asshole is this much of a lightweight.]

HER GODDAMN NAME WAS MARCELINE! I'M GONNA ALLIE YOUR ASSHOLE YOU MOTHERFUCKER!! I OUGHTTA RIP OFF YOUR LOWER WIG AN FEED IT TO YOU! MAYBE A LITTLE PUBE PROTEIN'LL WAKE UP THAT HOLLOW BRAIN OF YOURS! [Badou's pretty distraught at this point, kneeing Norrington in the chest and giving him another punch, and another, and another, all wrecked as fuck, heart thundering in his ears. Finally, finally, after minutes that seem like hours pass, he sits his juicy ass on the ground, looks at his bloody knuckles, and sighs.]

You're a fuckin' mess, Slim Jim. Covered in piss an your own boogies. Not hard boiled at all. Your panties're a lil too loose for my likin'. [He retrieves his crumpled cig pack and lights up, fixing his mournful, defeated and god damn disappointed gaze on the other man. He can hardly believe he let loose like that, really. Ain't like him.] I'll save the rest of the justice against your asshole for when you remember your own three sizes an your own name. Moron.

Edited 2013-03-22 06:52 (UTC)

[ As poor ol Jim's luck would have it, it happened to be none other than Badou bringing down his foot hard (.........) on the Brit's booze-saturated stomach that cleared the fog in his mind--and did it ever, with the force of a thousand hair dryers on a patch of lower wig--and he remembered, with more and more clarity with every punch, all of it. ALL of it. Marceline...Badou's junk... all of the things that poor man had seen't.

But Norrington didn't say anything, maybe because he was having the shit beat out of him, or maybe because he felt Badou deserved the aggression--and let the other man recooperate (ain't he a nice guy) while he, with soggy bloody breaths and lots of cursing under his breath, pushed himself to a sitting position.

He would have just told Badou he'd remembered, the wanker, but no. He had to open his mouth.

The second that last word is out of Badou's mouth, it's a bird, it's a plane - no, it's a disgrace to the Flag! - and Norrington's launched himself at the redhead with a wild yell. TOUUUUUCHDOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWN SLIM JIM! He starts with grabbing a fistful of that coppery goodness of hair, scrabbling around with the startled and raging Badou , yanking them (.....................heh) by pulling him onto their/his feet]

DON'T YOU--[ there's a punch, connecting with--well, something, as James was currently too blinded by his rage to see much of anything--or just the nasty tangled disgusting greasy curtain that is his own hair, fallen in front of his face ]

TALK ABOUT--[ he knees Badou in the stomach ]

--MY PANTIES!

[ Then James sees the cigarette, still smoking and limply held between Badou's fingers still, out of the corner of his eye, snatches it and takes a good, long drag, this time only coughing twice. His eyes watering only...a lil...

Then he sighs and spits once more, blood and spit and another tooth--oh, Badou will be receiving a bill for this...let's see where that allowance of Kyouya's goes now--and speaks, his voice raw ~~and sexy~~ ]

I remember it now, you fucknut.

~~rawr~~

Edited 2013-03-27 04:54 (UTC)

[Badou would have laughed at the sheer jolting dick connection that wired Norrington's memories back together if he wasn't a fucking worse wreck laying on his back on the ground after the initial fisting. If this is how Loki felt at the end of the Avengers then personally Badou understands why his teats are so cold over his daddy issues.
All throughout the passionate and sexy beating Badou flashed back to Neo's gallant struggle and Trinity's angular man-like face, how they triumphed over Hugo Weaving. If they could do that then he could triumph over some drunk ass friend thirsting weepily after titties. Without dying at the end of the fourth goddamn movie.
He wipes his bloody mouth with the back of his hand, his hot bod aching all the fuck over, and manages a gurgle of laughter he hardly feels in the feels.]

Yeah? You sure bout that, cocknose? Cause if you wanna roll around with your balls against my ass you'll wanna see the WWE league on assignin' a pair of tights. I suggest neon green ones that'll bring out your....mast. [Grunting and huffing and bitching about shitting in dicks, Badou sits up and leans on one elbow whilst reaching over to snatch Dickington's stolen cigarette. The firedick warrior takes a drag and gives the other man his patented bitch face, though it had a wearier tint to it. He's pretty accepting of his IOU on the rest of that asskicking, and now he's...not content. Hardly (.........) satisfied. But ok.]

Getcher own or deal with shotgunning, dickhole. How bout a beer too while you're at it, dear~? [Have an asshole smirk]

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...arrr

Why can't my reply be perfect. YOU SCRUFFY, SOGGY PIECE OF CRAP

ARE YOU KIDDING THE REPLY IS PERF DON'T MAKE SLIM JIM TAKE A DRUNK PISS ON U

if the pee is mostly alcohol I'll consider it......but only if we dont make money off golden showers

TRYING THIS AGAIN......

I'm sorry this is still terrible

THIS IS THE TERRIBLE REPLY ITS ME

Shut up YOU ALREADY KNOW HOW BEAUTIFUL THIS IS YOU BIG GAY

look how fuckin bitchy his face matches here, omfg

as usual I wanna kiss his stinky face and pour mouth wash on every part of his bod ;~;

durr how fight scenes work, mommy. (I better be getting good at this if I'm gonna Reese)

(yeah cause you've got the pissing and crying part of Reese down ;)) YOU GOT THIS

...arrr

Why can't my reply be perfect. YOU SCRUFFY, SOGGY PIECE OF CRAP

ARE YOU KIDDING THE REPLY *IS* PERF DON'T MAKE SLIM JIM TAKE A DRUNK PISS ON U

if the pee is mostly alcohol I'll consider it......but only if we dont make money off golden showers

TRYING THIS AGAIN......

I'm sorry this is still terrible

THIS IS THE TERRIBLE REPLY ITS ME

Shut up YOU ALREADY KNOW HOW BEAUTIFUL THIS IS YOU BIG GAY

look how fuckin bitchy his face matches here, omfg

as usual I wanna kiss his stinky face and pour mouth wash on every part of his bod ;~;

durr how fight scenes work, mommy. (I better be getting good at this if I'm gonna Reese)

(yeah cause you've got the pissing and crying part of Reese down ;)) YOU GOT THIS

ARE YOU KIDDING THE REPLY IS PERF DON'T MAKE SLIM JIM TAKE A DRUNK PISS ON U