stops to toss a few rocks in a puddle, watching the ripples.

glances over from his place on the park bench, book in hand. "...That almost splashed me."

just arches a brow, as if to say, so what?

taps a finger on the arm of the bench, looking distinctly unamused. Do not splash his fine self, bitch.

frowns, not one to put up with Daemon's sassy undertone.

/Don't make him Z-snap, either.

Daemon's going to fracture his hip if he tries. Old man.

would love to show him just how lithe this old man is. He doesn't appreciate being insulted by someone who uses yo-yos.

quite the wielder of yo-yos. They can be quite deadly.

that's pretty sad. Couldn't pick something more...elegant?

sorry, the position of eighteenth century gentleman with a pimpstick was already taken.

damn right.

you don't even go here.