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Post by Amri Amatzya on Sept 17, 2009 15:16:47 GMT -8
Now, does everyone remember a certain conversation?
Pip: After Amri and Peregrine are doe fighting, they will both have to take a bath.
Yuliya: Gah! Bad images!
Pip: What? NO! Not together! I meant they'll be so bloodied up they'd have to take baths! In SEPARATE ROOMS, in SEPARATE CASTLES, in SEPARATE FRICKEN COUNTRIES!
Lately, that got me thinking, what would it be like if The Most Lovable Killer and Pompous Crown Prince had to take a bath together? Let's find out! (I assume all responsibility, I made Pip do this with me.)
He was a toddler again, surrounded in the mists of his own desires. What exactly was his desire at the moment? The want, no, the need to anywhere but where he was right then. This need was apparent from the expression on his face, clouded and pouting, lower lip sticking out just slightly and eyebrows creased over his cat-like blue eyes. His arms were crossed tightly over his chest, but this action was not accompanied by the usual leaning back and smirking. If he had done that, the situation would probably be even more awkward. But awkward wasn't the right word, more humiliating.
Why was the world's strongest man in the world (or close to), also known as the mercenary or Amri Ban Amatzya, taking a bath with the crown prince of Saor? That can be left to the imagination. Perhaps the Tyrant King wanted to torture Amri as well as Peregrine because he found out about him not capturing Violet, and decided he may as well kill two birds with one stone. Or maybe someone else had a lot of fun in a game of Truth or Dare. Whatever the case, Amri was not happy, for despite several accusations, he was indeed quite straight. Except when he was drunk. Then no one really knew what he was.
He lifted his face slightly, which had been previously glaring at his feet, to look the prince in the eyes as his wet bangs fell over his own. "No one hears about this," he seethed, eyes flashing dangerously. The long black hair that was usually tied back kept falling in front of his chest, and it was both annoying and a godsend. But it was then that he grabbed something yellow off the side of the bathtub, "And I get the rubber ducky."
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Post by Peregrine Alexander on Sept 19, 2009 12:49:46 GMT -8
He was wearing a pair of breeches that went down to his knees, thankfully. They were ragged, but at least he was wearing them. Of course, it would have probably been the death of the person trying to get him out of them. Let it be known that nobody tried and nobody died and wow, that rhyme.
Unintentional.
Anywho, they were sitting across from each other and although Peregrine (NOT Peregrion) was not naked, he had no idea if his enemy was just shirtless or completely naked and he was seriously hoping it was the former. Still, he referred to look lower than the mercenary's waist, which was still disgusting. Why was he here again?
So, were they just going to sit there in a totally straight way until Amri's boyfriend came for a visit? Wait, Amri having a boyfriend didn't make this situation straight, did it? Ew! Gross! Even as the unwanted, disgusting and completely warranted thought went through his min, Peregrine scrambled higher up his side of the bath tub.
"Fine," He snapped, "but I get the soap."
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Post by Amri Amatzya on Sept 19, 2009 14:48:35 GMT -8
Ha, why would Amri want soap? Amri has no soap, Amri needs no soap. And really, he didn't. By a strange turn of events, or a strange turn into lots of rivers and streams, he was always squeaky clean. So clean you could eat off him...not that anyone would want to, hopefully, and DEFINITELY not that Amri would let anyone. God, ew. He shuddered, and, thinking of that, wondered why Peregrine wanted the soap. His eyes widened, and he scootched his feet closer to his own body, for unlike the prince, he was completely stark naked.
"You can have the soap,but don't think for one second that if you drop it I'll fulfill your sick fantasies, you sicko."
By now Amri was fairly certain that Peregrine was not following a path that was parallel to his own, since he seemed rather obsessed with the idea of Amri dropping his pants. But now that that had been succeeded, he didn't know what he'd try next. He furrowed his eyebrows and glared accusingly, clutching the toy duck in his left hand tightly.
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Post by Peregrine Alexander on Sept 22, 2009 20:15:47 GMT -8
"My fantasies are none of your business. but rest assured that they do not include you, unless it be the mental image of you being attacked somewhere in a forsaken desert." Peregrine spat, just as vehement as the other for him to keep both himself and his filthy mind on the opposite side of the bathtub,
Why were they doing this again? The only logical explanation was that they had gotten very, very drunk. But that made no sense, for the prince did not get drunk. It just wasn't a smart idea for a man as brilliant and as wanted by his enemies as he.
No, not wanted that way. You're all gutter-minds. All of you! So, now that we have successful located our brains, picked them out of the sewer, brushed and flossed well and relocated them back where they belong, (in our heads) let's all enjoy a nice, clean and totally straight mental image of two guys who hate each other sitting in the same bathtub, both in their mid to late teens. One plays with a rubber duck while the holds a bar of soap precariously in his right hand.
No, this is not the asslym.
"You sicko?" The prince taunted, "Is that honestly the best you can come up with?" He shook his head. "Tell me, my biotch friend, is the term, "bastard" getting old yet?" Then, without further ado, he chucked the bar of soap he was holding straight at Amri's face, aiming for his forehead. His aim was straight and true and he was most certainly not going to drop the soap in any way.
Maybe it was a bad dream and it would all go away. Peregrine reached down and pinched himself in his scrawny chest. It hurt alright. He really needed to trim his nails.
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Post by Amri Amatzya on Sept 29, 2009 17:54:25 GMT -8
"You think bastard is bad? How sad," Amri chuckled. Okay, maybe this wasn't an appropriate situation for him to be chuckling in, but if he couldn't change what was going on, he may as well deal. In fact, he should act like this was normal. Like he often spent time bathing with his enemies. Wait...maybe he shouldn't act like that...that could end up very, very, very, very, very, very bad.
Then the soap came at him. Why was he not surprised? Oh well, it didn't matter, because the soap bounced off his SUPREME RUBBER BANGS! Or maybe Amri just had amazing spidey senses and flicked it away but he did it too fast for anyone to notice, the former seems more likely, though, seeing as not only were his bangs rubber, but they were also radioactive. And shiny. Don't forget shiny.
"Now you," he said, putting his hands on the sides of the tub. He had been about to push down and stand up, but he quickly decided against that, "are a frog-humping, pathetically-muscled, thingy-obsessed, nancy, pansy, sissy-boy with my vomit for your brain and my crap for your manliness who can f*** my mother and engage in a feces-throwing contest with a monkey for all I care." He finished with a smug look, knowing that he could have indeed said much worse.
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