narcissistic union // videogames

[arcy]

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[glow=#000,1,400]FALLING FURTHER DOWN — ｡+ﾟ.[/glow]

[div style="width: 480px; height: auto; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 13px;"]Videogames was nothing if hard to read. A carefully taught trait. A mask, a deflection -- Videogames' cheer was not fake, unlike one would think. He didn't mean to frustrate anyone, but, well -- answers were never good, were they? He didn't know why Lemy wanted anything to do with him now, but he didn't trust it.
He wasn't sure if it was because of Lemy or because --. ... Well. Videogames could probably try to read him if he wanted to. or maybe he couldn't.
He didn't really want to try.
"I'm sure it will be! You pro'lly you already know a lot!" Videgames chirps. A form of flattery -- genuine, but not one of his actions went without some form of ulterior motive. It wasn't something he could help.
And, once they arrive -- "Do you like citruses?" Videogames tilts his head. He didn't mind whatever they got, really, but, well -- he could probably find something Lemy liked? Videogames was a bit oblivious, but he's sure he could find something. Even so, he beams as he's further acknowledged, trotting in a dizzyingly quick circle around the tree, again and again. Too much energy, too much restlessness -- he could hardly relax. He's sure he'd know who to blame, but, well -- who cared about blame?  "Yup! I can!" He chirps, narrowing his eyes upwards. He pointedly ignores the beer. He'd mentioned it, but -- Videogames, lowering himself to the ground for a moment, launches himself into the tree, franticslly scrabbling for purchase as he pulls himself over a branch. And, for a moment, he pulls himself together.
It's been a long time --
"Do you? D'ya wanna help, or should I look myself?" He asks, awkwardly perched. One leg is thrown over it, fully extended. It's not comfortable, but it's not like comfort was ever something on his mind to begin with.