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 Posted: Sun Aug 03, 2014 4:10 pm
Ian received a look from him at the mere idea that he was a good guy, and sane to boot. "You really haven't been around, have you?" He rolled his eyes, unashamed of the way he elbowed Ian; the other man deserved it for his terrible judgement.
"I don't think he sulks." Ripley mused, happy enough to avoid the subject of his decency as a human being. "More...distant plotting." He smirked, folding the M&M bag before setting it down to choose something else. Variety was the spice of life, after all, and that was very likely why he picked up the extra spicy beef jerky. "Finn is Crowley, remember?" He reminded Ian. It made sense after all, at one point, when Finn made deals for fun. Jack though, he had no idea.
But when it came to the movie, Ripley offered a small smile. "Oliver would cry." He agreed, though he didn't remember who Quinn was. "It'd be fun." His tone was as dry as ever, though he really did find Oliver endlessly fascinating. Frustrating sometimes sure, but fascinating.
"The Hangover?" He suggested, with absolutely no ulterior motives, as he pulled a piece of spicy jerky from the bag, and considered eating it.
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Posted: Sun Aug 03, 2014 6:36 pm
"My definition of good is clearly different from your definition of good," said Ian with a roll of his eyes. "Okay, fine - ow - " he added, as Ripley elbowed him the ribs, "We will totally just agree to disagree on this. I say you're a good guy, you say you're not (I'm secretly right, even if you won't admit it), but for now we will just pretend that we're agreeing to disagree."
He leaned his head back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling, slowly chewing on another Dorito. "Finn totally sulks," he said with a grin. "But you're right, he plots a load of s**t and then will spring it all on you when you're not ready for it, and therefore he both gets you back and wins, the b*****d."
The reminding of the nickname, however, brought Ian great joy, because it a) meant that he now had something to call Finn other than His Dickship, and b) because it went along with the whole Supernatural theme, even if Ripley was less-than-enthusiastic about Ian calling everyone various nicknames. But it was just a habit, a way of being affectionate; nicknames meant that he liked a person more than just as an acquaintance, and Ian felt very comfortable around both Ripley and Finn. Less so around Jack, but he was slowly trying to rectify that.
"The Hangover is a pretty good idea," Ian agreed with a nod as he lifted his head from the bed and then eyed the beef jerky in Ripley's hand as he considered himself whether to take a piece. "I'll provide the movie, someone else can provide the pizza and beer, and we can just have a chill night."
Ian finished off the bag of Doritos with a flourish. "Eatt ittttt," he said, waggling his eyebrows, "Doo itttttt."
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Posted: Mon Aug 04, 2014 2:49 pm
"Seems like it." Ripley agreed grimly; Ian was a horrible judge of character if he thought he was a good guy. At least, that was in his very professional opinion. The idea came up to agree to disagree, and he pondered that option for only a moment, before uttering a very simple: "Agreed."
"That he does." Ripley stared down at the bag of chips whose smell alone was assaulting his senses. "He's good at what he does." He certainly managed to convince him into several things in the past, and likely would continue to do so in the future. When it came down to it though, Finn was his Dickhead.
"Zachariah?" He suggested out of the blue, when it came to the so far unanswered question of a nickname for Jack. They were about on the same level of a*****e, at least. But he was back to looking at the beef jerky, still trying to psych himself up for such a horribly burning feat.
"I'll get the pizza." He promised, distracted, before Ian tried to bait him into eating the probably gut-burning piece of dried meat. "I hate you." Not that he sounded convincing at all. Not even slightly. Finally, heaving a sigh, he took a generous bite of the jerky, and chewed.
His face grew considerably more red with each chew, and it got so bad that he actually started to sweat. Wilhelm was abuzz in his head, mildly panicking - though partially lecturing - as he swallowed it, his face pinching with pain as he felt it go down. Eugh. Eugh.
He coughed and shuddered, reaching out quickly for the water bottle he had set down earlier, and let out a frustrated whine as he realized it was still not only closed, but sealed. His gloved hands fumbled as his mouth was on fire, and eventually, with an incredibly struggle, he managed to open the cap and bring it to his mouth, taking deep, greedy mouthfuls.
It didn't help, but at least it temporarily soothed.
"I <********> hate you." He amended, a little more convincingly.
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Posted: Mon Aug 04, 2014 8:32 pm
Ripley was nothing if not a man of little words, not that Ian minded, since some people had a tendency to over talk; Ripley was just not one of them, and Ian appreciated his ability to not mince words and just say it like it was most of the time.
"He is insufferably good at what he does," said Ian with a grunt. "He is an a*****e and yet somehow I still can't not be friends with him or Jack, and I still haven't managed to figure out how or why I somehow manage to gravitate towards all of you crazy jerks. Maybe because I'm a crazy jerk," he added, rolling his head to the side to grin at Ripley.
The grin stayed on his face all through the beef jerky attempt, Ian adopting a totally innocent expression on his face, blinking beatifically at his friend. "If by hate you mean 'think is totally awesome' then you'd be right, because I am totally awesome."
Less than a minute later and Ian was bent over, leaning against Ripley and howling with laughter. "I can't believe you ate that big of a bite," he said, wiping his eyes as he sat back up. "My gosh. The look on your face was priceless, I wish I had a camera. I could have snapped a million pictures and plastered them everywhere for people to behold the majesty that is your face, Ripley Crowell."
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