Thread Roulette: Questionable Dorms

“Maybe it’s both?” answered Romeo with a smirk, absentmindedly scratching his back as he continued to watch the dinosaur documentary. It wasn’t as good as Robot Chicken, but it’d do. Dinosaurs are among his top ten coolest things anyway, right after brunettes and blondes.

He simply rolled his eyes when the little twerpgirl spoke, letting out a huff reeking of condescension. Seems she’s part of that horde of rabid fangirls that follow Beiber’s every move. If he had to be honest, said horde is probably the biggest reason why he hates the singer. (Because let’s face it, Romeo’s been caught “accidentally” singing Baby and Somebody to Love in the shower, among others). Their undying love and eerie devotion just sends shivers down his spine. “Want to check them out yourself?”

Rather inappropriate considering how old the girl was, but hopefully it’d keep her mouth shut.


A disgruntled grunt escaped the boy when the remote was suddenly snatched from it and the TV show changed from his dinosaurs to a boring news program. (They were in the middle of showing how the Velociraptor actually looked like, feathers and all, damn it). “Does it look like I care?” groaned the Irish boy, stretching for a bit before standing up and walking towards the ginger, not really caring if he inadvertently blocked the little girl’s view.

Crossing his arms, he went over the other boy, trying to look as imposing as he can. “Will you please give me the remote?” And to make things worse, he went on and gave the boy a not-so-light shove, asking, “Do you wanna go bro?”

Eep.

“Didn’t you hear what I said? No headache but butt plug instead?” asked Romeo, eyebrow cocking up as he ended his question with a snarl, “Won’t something like that be uncomfortable and make you as pissy as you are now? Or are you saying that you’re so used stuffing things up your ass that it doesn’t really hurt anymore?” His eyes never left the redhead as he approached, fists tightening as his teeth gritted in irritation.

Jam blames the adrenaline. Relatively high levels of it (due to working out) plus testosterone are never good when it comes to controlling one’s aggression.

What Cassidy did never really had an effect to the boy, mostly because she was far too young in his eyes and he’s still relatively annoyed with her. Not as much as with Odion, but enough to ignore whatever it was that she was doing (at least momentarily) and focus on the brat at hand.

The kick was unwelcome, but certainly not unexpected. While it hurt quite a bit, he actually prefers it over being hit in the face; a cut on the cheek would be harder to hide than a bruise on the ribs. Instinctively his arms wrapped over his stomach as he stumbled backwards, fortunately landing on a couch so his injuries were relatively minimized.

It took a while for him to get back to his feet, but if there’s anything that Romeo is, it’s that he’s stubborn. Simple as the issue may be, there’s no way he’s backing out from it. Not when he already got beaten for it.

He took his shoes and socks off before he walked towards Odion, shifting into his armoured form midway. (His shorts ripped, but lucky for him they’re still intact enough to cover what needs to be covered). “So?” said the boy with a smirk, cracking his knuckles as he looked down at the redhead, “Are you going to-What the hell?!”

Who told that girl she can change the channel behind his back?