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Post by Jared Miles Platt on Mar 4, 2008 17:04:37 GMT -5
[/color] Jared shouted as he continued to pound on the door. Over an IM chatroom, Ryuu had told Jared that he'd run out of booze. So Jared, being the wonderfully nice dude that he is, offered to bring him some. The weight of the six-pack seemed to be rapidly increasing as Jared waited for Ryuu to answer the door. The cardboard handle was beginning to feel as if it were cutting through Jared's hand. He stopped pounding for a moment to switch the box over to his left hand, then began pounding with the right. He knew he was probably annoying the heck out of Ryuu, but he was enjoying it. It was just a friendly joke. [/ul][/font][/size] |
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Post by Ryuu James on Mar 5, 2008 1:57:13 GMT -5
Being the head banger Ryuu was, he had his Greenday CD on really loud, and was playing the drums in time. It was massive fun, and being able to smash the hell out of the poor, abused instrument without Tom pounding his head in was a nice change. The song faded, and Ryuu stopped playing for a second. He was getting all hyped up for the next song, when he noticed someone was knocking at the door. Jumping down and setting his drumsticks on top of the mini fridge he went and turned off his music. The knocking stopped for a moment, and he raced over to the door, grabbing a shirt and putting it on as he opened the door.
“Fucking hell, mate!” Ryuu laughed as he wriggled into his t-shirt, “How much? I hope you’re going to share it.” Grinning lopsidedly, he opened the door more, running a hand through his greasy hair.
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Post by Jared Miles Platt on Mar 5, 2008 17:48:46 GMT -5
[/color] Jared greeted Ryuu. "Here," he said, shoving the box into Ryuu's chest. Before he let go, though, he negotiated, "It's all yours, but on one condition...," Jared took a dramatic pause, then continued, "You have to share some with me!"A large grin spread across his face as he looked past Ryuu into the dorm. "Were you playing your drums?" he asked. [/ul][/font][/size] |
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Post by Ryuu James on Mar 6, 2008 2:11:07 GMT -5
Ryuu made a grunting sound when Jared thrust the box at him, and he grabbed it just in time before it dropped.
“Yeh, sure. But I ain’t dragging you back to your dorm when you’re drunk silly,” he laughed, staggering over to the mini fridge, and tearing open the box and shoving the six beers in the fridge. He had a couple of others, but he wasn’t sure how old they were, and they weren’t very nice. Just the cheapest he could find when he was low on cash. Turning back to Jared, he tapped a cymbal lightly, smiling at it.
“Yeh, looser that I am, I was playing along to Greenday,” he snorted, picking up the sticks and going round to perch on his stool, swinging on it lazily. He leaned over and opened the mini fridge, getting out a couple of beers, and chucking one at Tom’s bed which was closest to Jared before cracking open his own and taking a long mouthful.
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Post by Jared Miles Platt on Mar 6, 2008 17:25:59 GMT -5
[/color] he shook his head, "Besides, I'll probably only drink, like, two or something." Grabbing the bottle that lay on the bed and popping the cap off, he announced, "This is number one."After gulping down a few swigs, he looked around the dorm. "Nice place you got here," he teased, "And awesome drum set! Mind showing me some of your skills?"He plopped his bottom onto Tom's bed and took some more sips of the drink, a grin on his face. [/ul][/font][/size] |
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Post by Ryuu James on Mar 7, 2008 16:44:19 GMT -5
Ryuu pondered for a moment.
“You’ll just have to get drunk on something else,” he smirked, and bit his lip almost subconsciously. He eyed the drumsticks lying on the drum, and frowned.
“Aw mate…I suck, seriously,” he stuck his tongue out but put down the beer on top of the mini fridge and picked up the sticks anyway. Tapping the cymbals for a moment, he suddenly launched into a pattern he’d made up himself, which involved much thrashing loudly and crashing cymbals. He could feel himself working up a sweat already, and stopped before he started feeling damp.
“A voila. Eight years of practice, and I’m still crap,” he grinned, and ran a hand through his greasy hair, green eyes twinkling excitedly.
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Post by Jared Miles Platt on Mar 7, 2008 19:54:18 GMT -5
[/i] me to get drunk?"[/color] Jared questioned Ryuu. 'Suit yourself,' he thought as he took a long sip of his beverage, finishing most of it up. After Ryuu had finished showing Jared how he played the drums, Jared clapped. "That didn't suck," he shook his head, "I thought it was great. I haven't met too many people in my life who play the drums. You're awesome."[/ul][/font][/size] |
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Post by Ryuu James on Mar 8, 2008 2:43:50 GMT -5
“Ils disent seulement une folle l'homme peut jouer de la batterie,” he said, his French accent was thick, his pronunciation perfect. Well, of course it would be, because he grew up in France. He wasn’t sure if Jared knew that or if Jared would understand what he was saying, but he didn’t care. He enjoyed speaking in French, because he knew no one else would understand. He leaned back, and put one of the drumsticks down so he could pick up his beer, and tapped the cymbals lightly with the other.
“How’s life going for Mr. Dramatique?” he asked, sipping his drink thoughtfully. Anyone’s life was going better than his, of that he was certain.
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Post by Jared Miles Platt on Mar 8, 2008 6:37:37 GMT -5
[/color] Jared chuckled. He had taken French in school for a year when he was a freshman back home in Manhattan, but he didn't pay too much attention in that class. He shook the thoughts of home out of his head. Home reminded him of his parents. ...Yet, home also reminded him of someone else, but it didn't have to anymore! "My best buddy ever was recently sent down here, and we didn't even plan it! I'd say I'm pretty happy at the moment," Jared explained, then asked, "What about you, Mr. Mad Man?"[/ul][/font][/size] |
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Post by Ryuu James on Mar 8, 2008 17:23:27 GMT -5
Ryuu grinned at Jared’s inability to speak French. It was weird when you’d spoken French to your friends all your life, and then suddenly they didn’t have a clue.
“Ha. That’s cute. No one understands me anymore,” he wailed, then grinned lopsidedly.
“Sounds cool. Irja’s just turned up at Watson’s. I’m in so much shit, it’s not funny,” he sighed deeply, and put down his drumsticks. Getting up, he went over and plopped down on his own bed, gazing at Jared, before realising he was staring and looked down at his beer.
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