Idiot Theatre [Vincent]

[November Adams]

"Spendin night @ mansons"

The brunette had been half asleep when she received this text message, lying on the couch of a close... companion, while such companion was fixing coffee a few feet away. Ember's brown eyes had lazily trailed the patterns and movements of the blonde sophomore's fluid motions, watching without really connecting the images to thoughts. The sharp sound of her phone beeping startled her, she rolled over and shifted through the jacket that had been thrown gracelessly to the floor. Clutching the phone, she clicked around on it until she stared at the letters until comprehension came to mind. She cocked an eyebrow at the phone suspiciously, humming. That really couldn't be good.

---

Her footsteps were heavy upon the broken asphalt, the warm winds of summer tossing her hair annoyingly as she tried to pull it back into a pony tail. The time manipulator was making her way toward Vinnie's apartment, close to the dorms, but still far away enough so that students weren't tempted to sneak out and venture to their friends' private estates. She nearly laughed at the thought, as many times the group had invaded in both Emma and Vincent's apartments. Shoving her hands into the pockets of the green sweatshirt, she walked slightly hunched over until she reached the building and looked up to where she knew his window to be.

Shadows moved animately behind the drawn curtains, causing her eyebrows to narrow. Taking the steps two by two, she comes to stand in front of the door in a matter of minutes. There was a thud heard inside the room, a yell muffled by the door. "Er..." She fished the keyring out of her pocket, shifting through the numerous things hanging from the swirly, neon green band. Finding the familiar key, she shoved it in the lock and twisted the door handle....

Only to burst in at, "FUCKIN’ LEAVE MY ASS ALONE YOU FUCKING PAEDO." November stopped, on hand still on the doorhandle, the other resting against the frame, her eyes wide with shock. "... Am I interrupting something?" She inquired, the smirk heard in her voice as she stared at the two teens with peaked interest.

[Vincent Verax]

Vincent was bound and determined to find a way to torture Sammy with the game controller and he continued to brandish it threateningly at his friend. As far as he was aware, Sam had committed the ultimate sin: Beating Vincent at MarioKart. Such a thing couldn't happen! Sammy had to have made a deal with the devil or something in order to acquire gaming skills that rivaled Vin's. There was no other explanation for how his pothead of a friend could be him at MarioKart of all things. And so Vincent took it upon himself to punish Sammy for his otherworldly dealings.

With nearly all his strength, Vincent managed to flip Sammy over onto his stomach and then sat on his back, trying to shove his pants down because he was seriously going to attempt violating him with the controller, but he didn't get much farther than that. The door opened and Vin immediately knew it was Ember. She was the only one with a key and Emma didn't bother with doors and Horus was probably asleep somewhere that wasn't his bed. He paused in his attempts to pull down Sam's pants in favor of shooting one his most charming (crooked) grins over his shoulder at Ember. "Heya Tits. Y'ain't int'ruptin'. I'm jus' 'bout t'shove this controller up Charmander's ass." He informed her, waving the controller aimlessly in the air.

Absently, he pointed towards the TV where Bowser was repeatedly taking victory laps underneath the race stats. "Th'fucking shitbrain cheated an' beat m'on MarioKart. 'M thinkin' he sold his soul t'th'devil." And then he went right back to his attempts to tug off Sammy's pants. "Not sure why th'devil would want Sammy's soul. S'probably like... permanently high or somethin'. Maybe th'devil smokes, too." And now he was rambling in typical Vincent fashion, completely ignoring the screaming and thrashing Sammy that he was still sitting on.

[Samuel Rixon]

Shockingly, a Vincent brandishing a controller was rather threatening. The second he was down, Sam knew he was in trouble. He always, always lost wrestling matches with his friend. Vincent was stronger than him, and unless Sammy was able to distract him with something that went BOOM, chances were, he was going to lose. But it didn’t stop him from squirming and making noises intended to help him escape. At this point, I’m now wondering what Vincent’s poor neighbors think of him. Back to the boys. Sam thrashed beneath Vin hopelessly, grunting. “GET OFF ME! RIGHT NOW!” Not that Vincent would listen. He never listened.

But he still wasn’t sorry he’d beaten Vincent at MarioKart.

When he was flipped, Sam dropped his head forward, hitting it hard on the floor. “Motherfucker!” Yes, it hurt, and yes, Sam has a potty mouth. Then he felt Vin’s hands on his pants he started to freak. He’d been in this position once before. Not that he remembered it all that well, but he knew it had happened. And the panic set in. “Vin Vin Vin Vin Vin Vin Vin don’t don’t DON’T!” He flailed all that much harder, because regardless of what his friend was threatening to shove up his ass, he was threatening to shove something up his ass. It warranted extra flailing and the near-hysteria that had inched into his voice.

And then, salvation. Sam looked up when he heard the oh so familiar voice, and shot her a look. “Emby! Emby help me. Please please please please please PLEASE!” The last ‘please’ was punctuated by a high pitched yelp as Vincent tugged on his jeans again. The thrashing got more violent, and the screaming got louder. Yeah. Just another night at Vincent’s house.

[November Adams]

Leaning against the door frame, she momentarily looked over her shoulder to see if any of the other tenants had wandered out to figure out what the commotion was. They had learned well from their time with Vincent, not to wander out of their own apartment in these cases. Therefore, no one was lingering around, waiting to call the police and report domestic abuse. She turned back when Vinnie used his forever lovely nickname for her, casually explaining his motives for currently straddling her roommate and trying to tug his pants off. Raising her eyebrows skeptically as he rambled, she only snickered as he began to talk about the devil being a pothead.

Meanwhile, poor Sammy was flailing like a fish out of water (ironic because he hated fish) beneath the goth boy, trying frantically to get out of his hold. A look of desperation on his face as he tried to push the bigger boy away, but with no avail. "You really need to start working out Sammy, Vinnie's got you good," The brunette chuckled, running a hair through her slightly messy pony tail. It was still damp and frizzy at the same time - from the shower and hair dryer that she rarely used. It was a quick three-quarters of an hour between the time that she received the text and the time that she actually ended up at the door. Her mind was soon pulled from the previously dwindling thoughts of a blonde that lived across the hall back to the two boys wrestling on the floor. She snickered again at their silliness, that was until the pyro began to beg, actually beg Ember to help him. Looking quite like a deer in headlights, the teenager sighed dramatically and pushed herself off the door frame, shoving the door shut with her foot.

"Fine," She said with a mock-bothered tone, as if he was asking so much from her. The brunette braced herself against the wall, unzipping her jacket and tossing it to the side gracelessly. Her fingers spanned out against the white wall, before shoving herself away and throwing her petite form, full force into Vincent, arms going around his waste, pushing him off of her other companion. She rolled him over, straddling his hips with a devious grin, hair messed up again, and disheveled clothes. Glancing toward the pyro, she rose her eyebrows, "You owe me."

[Vincent Verax]

Sammy's begging and pleading had no effect on Vincent, but that was nothing out of the ordinary. Half the things that Sammy said went either unheard or unacknowledged and this is one of those times. Unfortunately, as Vincent was intending to blabber on some more about Sammy, the devil, and the horrible things that he was intending to do with that controller, the pyro underneath him gave a rather girly shriek and interrupted his clever tales of how Sam would have met the devil during a drug deal.

"Jeez, Charmander. Y'balls ain' dropped yet or somethin'?" But Vincent wasn't given enough time to tease, because the next thing he knew, something was flying at him, knocking him off balance and he dropped the controller. Blinking confusedly, he looked up into Ember's face, trying process at how one moment he was straddling Sammy and the next moment Ember was straddling him. This wasn't an unfamiliar position to Vincent, who was now smirking even more as he looked up at the brunette. "Heya Tits." And in under two seconds, Vincent's mind had gone from violating Sammy to "Hey this is kinda nice." Sammy, on the other hand, would probably like to stay far, far away from where Vincent's mind just went, lest he wants to throw a jealous fit.

Shifting a little underneath Ember, he peered around her to look at Sammy, waggling his eyebrows. "Yeah, y'owe me too." He pointed at Ember, smirked, then let his hand rest on her thigh. He really just loved freaking Sammy out. Sometimes I wonder how these two can be friends at all, with constant blackmail and fighting and threats of shoving things where they don't belong.

[Samuel Rixon]

Thank god for friends like Ember. And thank... Satan for friends like Vincent? I’m not sure Sam really wants to thank anyone over the fact that Vincent is indeed one of his best friends. Not right now, anyway. Hell, he wasn’t even listening to Vinnie’s clever tales of the devil and his potential pot addiction. He was much too busy whining and pleading to be released from his current position. Vin’s little comment on his balls, however, made him twitch. Anything sexually related spoken around Ember, he was careful about. Lest a certain secret be spilled. “Shut up Manson. Or I’ll send your balls back where they came from.” Was that a threat to Vincent’s manhood? Why yes. Yes it was.

Ember’s pointed comment about working out was only met with a half desperate, half scathing look. “I noticed, Emby. Help me!” He completely sidestepped the idea of working out. Running, lifting weights, none of it appealed to the slacker. Between his eating, exercising, and drug habits, he was likely in no shape to even try to start, so why bother? That was his take on it. Not that it was particularly healthy, but it was his opinion, dammit, and he was sticking to it. Still, being stronger might come in handy when he faced off against Vincent in their umpteenth wrestling match of death. Hell, he might actually hurt Vin more than he did himself. Maaaaybe exercise wasn’t such a horrible idea. At least until he considered the effort involved. Yeah. He wasn’t going to be indulging Ember in that anytime soon. But back to his current situation. Trapped under Vincent –

Wait.

Vincent was off of him. And Ember was on top of Vincent. Sam blinked. Alcohol had dulled his reflexes enough to make him pause to figure this out. Ember must have tackled him. Man, she was strong for a skinny chick. But his attention was soon diverted from wondering just how Ember had managed that feat, to witnessing Vincent’s hand trail up her thigh. Oh no. Oh hell no. He moved over to Vincent, ignoring his subtle threat, and attempted to pry his hand off of Ember’s leg. “Hands off the merchandise, fuckface.” That.... was his way of being sweet. Honestly. “Or I’ll fuckin’ let Emma’s snake eat yours when you’re sleepin’.” Oh Sam, that’s just cruel. Your chances of impressing Ember with your behaviour just went down the toilet.