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 Posted: Sat Apr 24, 2010 6:49 pm
Courtney gave a definitive nod. "Much shorter, to say the least. Of course, you could always abbreviate," she said thoughtfully. Shrugging, she stuffed the things into her bag and slung it over her shoulder. "Now that you don't look so bloody, where are we headed to execute this?" she wondered aloud as she examined a container of bleach.
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Posted: Sat Apr 24, 2010 7:32 pm
"Heheheh... first stop, a laundry room," Van Russel said, waggling his bloodied scarf at her. "I'm going to be so upset if this sets!" Truthfully, he would. He loved this scarf. It was snowy-white, an oversized knit scarf. He found it at a thrift store, still with the tag of some department store on it. Best use of Fortune ever.
But there was something else... he had to do something to prolong this conversation. "Are you still blaming me for the fire alarm, by the way? I'm keeping to my story, I just... make things happen." That's right, he would share a secret or two with her, let her in on some intimate knowledge, make her feel special... Ask her on a date....
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Eloquent Conversationalist
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Posted: Sat Apr 24, 2010 7:36 pm
She rolled her eyes again. "I may just change your name from Casanova to 'Newton's Laws of Motion'... don't make me do it!" she warned. "As for the fire alarm... maybe. I still don't know quite what to think of you. I found you in a fetal position on the ground looking like a trolley decided to play badminton with your face. That's not usually an everyday occurrence. To the laundry room then?" she asked, her British accent noticeable.
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Posted: Sat Apr 24, 2010 7:46 pm
Oh, so she has an accent - sexy. A 9, now. Van Russel tilted his head, and looked at Courtney with grayish green puppy-dog eyes. Or, as he preferred, soulful kitty eyes. Because face it, cats were amazing.
"I'm not an everyday occurrence," he reminded her, slightly suggestive, but mostly 'please pity me, for I want to screw you'. "I'm an Agent of Fortune, after all."
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Eloquent Conversationalist
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Posted: Sat Apr 24, 2010 7:53 pm
"... not an everyday occurrence, that's for sure," she muttered. She glanced up from the bleach and looked at him. God, he was giving her puppy-eyes. He must be desperate. However, the last part piqued her scientific interest. "... an 'Agent of Fortune'?" she asked, the question mark clear in her voice.
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Posted: Sat Apr 24, 2010 8:00 pm
HA. IT'S WORKING! "An Agent of Fortune," Van Russel repeated calmly. "It's a title I made up, but I think it gets the idea across nicely!" He was being vague on purpose, forcing her to ask more questions.
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Eloquent Conversationalist
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Posted: Sat Apr 24, 2010 8:06 pm
Though she knew she was only furthering this perverse little game of his, she kept asking questions. "So what is it that you can do, exactly?" she asked him, tossing the bleach from hand to hand.
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Posted: Sat Apr 24, 2010 8:13 pm
"Make things happen," he repeated unhelpfully. He stood up and walked to the door, and beckoned for her to follow. "Specifically, right now, I want to make something bad happen."
He glanced up at the lights in the hallway. There was a slight hum, the sound of electricity flowing, and then like dominoes, the lights blew out, sending sparks and broken glass to the floor.
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Eloquent Conversationalist
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Posted: Sat Apr 24, 2010 8:15 pm
She gasped in shock as the glass shattered. "That's horrible!" she said, looking from the light fixture to the floor. She retreated back into the classroom and grabbed a dust pan and brush. She swept up the glass and threw it in the bin. Standing next to him, she bit her lip. It was kind of cute in a way, almost like she was pouting.
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Posted: Sat Apr 24, 2010 8:23 pm
"... Huh. It worked," he accidentally said out loud. Last time, the bulb only burned out, rather than blew out. Van Russel watched Courtney clean the glass up, discreetly studying her backside. He looked away well before she had finished sweeping, though. He didn't want to push his Luck. Already, she was upset with him.
He floundered, looking for the right rebuttal. "It was?" he finally responded, not quite a question, but not quite a statement of agreement either. How the hell was he going to win her over if he admitted he did horrible things!? "But... that's the sort of stuff that happens to me. At least that was on purpose!" Oh my gosh, you are so cute, please please please let me kiss you before today ends...
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Eloquent Conversationalist
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Posted: Sat Apr 24, 2010 8:27 pm
She sighed, glaring up at him. "Yes, Casanova, destroying school property equals a no-no," Courtney huffed. "So are we going to go to the Laundromat? Because if the alternative is you sitting here blowing up things, I might as well take you to AP Applied Chemistry and Physics with me."
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Posted: Sat Apr 24, 2010 8:36 pm
Oh, right, his scarf. It.. It took a backseat to Courtney, though. Van Russel blinked, startled. "Sure... Laundromat!" Maybe he'd find enough change on the floor to pay for a load, without having to dig into his own pocket. And while the machine was going, he could take her out for coffee and pastries... it sounded like a good plan.
"And then along the way, I can show you what else I can do." He was referring to his Luck, and only too late did he realize how suggestive it sounded. He didn't want to use that line for another hour or so!
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Eloquent Conversationalist
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Posted: Sat Apr 24, 2010 8:41 pm
Courtney raised an eyebrow. "Down boy," she said with a laugh. She beckoned to him to follow her, and she quickly was back outside the school. There was a Laundromat just down the street, which was amazingly convenient for all the students at the Tower.
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Posted: Sat Apr 24, 2010 8:54 pm
"I'm not a dog, you know." Van Russel set his shoulders, and followed Courtney in a manly strut. They left the school in short order, and were headed down the street to the Laundromat. He'd have to pick a small washer, he realized - a single scarf did not exactly compose a load worth two dollars. He looked down at himself. Well, his jacket could go in. It was dark-colored, but it had been washed enough times, he knew it wouldn't bleed. A jacket, a scarf... and his shirt. Of course. Genius. Evil ********' genius. He had gotten blood on his shirt, conveniently enough.
Van Russel Russo, as it bears repeating, thought himself to be a very lucky b*****d.
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Eloquent Conversationalist
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Posted: Sat Apr 24, 2010 8:57 pm
Humming to herself, Courtney led the way into the laundromat. The clerk greeted her cheerfully, and waggled his eyebrows in Casanova's direction. She quickly shook her head 'no!'. Dropping her bag in a chair, she pulled out a book. "I'll wait while you wash, ok?" she said.
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