04-17-2018, 06:38 PM
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[div style="background-color: #e3dfdf; width: 305px; border-bottom: 1px solid black; border-left: 1px solid black; border-right: 1px solid black; padding: 10px; line-height: 110%; word-wrap: break-word; text-align: justify; margin: auto; color: black; font-family: Georgia; text-size: 6pt"]Bastille rolled an eyes at Rad's assertion of "performance anxiety", and simply stared at her harder. Clearly, he was only going to watch her more intently, if only because he was an asshole. He arched a brow at her babble, and snorted, "Why don't you invite your friends?" It was Rad, and therefore he was being contrarian just to be contrarian. Before he could comment on how her drinks were probably poisoned, he was distracted by Immortal's voice.
At the comment, he offered a smirk and shot back, "Depends on the companion. With you and Rad? Nah, nothing is my thing with you two around." Bast didn't really usually drink, if only because he'd spent most of his life alone, stopping briefly with foreign groups. He had no moral opposition to it, however, and knew his past lives had enjoyed it well enough (though they were degenerate losers who often got into trouble when drunk, sooo...). He glanced back at Rad as she continued to tinker aggressively with the radio, and he had to admit he was entertained. Watching her struggle was just a little too perfect.
Margae. He caught that too, and his gaze lingered on Margaret for a little too long. He had thought the name she offered was a little too stiff and typical for her aura, and he wondered acutely what she'd been about to say. A nickname, maybe? Something that sounded more fitting for her? Hm. Bast nodded in greeting after a moment, though, and then swiped the radio from Rad while she was busy pouring some of that toxic slime into a cup.
"I'm going to regret helping you, I think," he muttered, and started to study what she'd been fucking around with. After a moment, he started pushing on the buttons, relying on Grimm's knowledge of humans and their stupid technology to guide him. Very quiet music started to drift from the radio after a few moments, and he pushed it back to Rad with a pointed look. "Maybe next time you should, I don't know, ask the person you took it from to help you." It wasn't his, but still -- he liked riling her.
Honey, you're familiar, like my mirror years ago, Idealism sits in prison, chivalry fell on his sword, Innocence died screaming; honey, ask me, I should know, I slithered here from Eden just to sit outside your door. [b][sup]▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃[/sup][/b]