Waka Waka Waka [Sammy]

[Horus Richmond]

Nothing is less terrifying than a short blonde boy trying to eat tictacs off a table while making pacman noises. Aside from perhaps a kitten and a puppy cuddling up fast asleep.

The former was Horus' new goal, since he was wearing his pacman hoodie, and that meant everything today had to be based around being a yellow circle that ate blobs and was chased by ghosts. Wiggling back and forth over the table, then worming around on the floor, Horus continued to chase the tictacs while making the familiar game noise, his sleepy expression somewhat self-satisfied as he did another lap round the deserted Student lounge and back towards the door. Squirming furiously, he paused at the sight of a forgotten sweet wrapper and yelped, wiggling backwards as fast as he could.

"Noes, it's a fuckin' ghost!" He shouted to the empty room, before moving back up to the sofa and peering with wide eyes in the corner, hand moving to his phone. "'m gonna get a cherry an' kill your ass." The blonde threatened, pressing his fingers quickly across the keypad of his phone, pinging the message over to Sammy before staying stock still on the sofa.
Pacman iz cornerd by a fuxin ghost duud. Bitch iz guardin all my tictacs Send rein4cmentz. Im @ the studnt lazy hole. luv 1337 c0mm4nd3r Horus x

And with that, the narco disappeared over the back of the sofa, clutching his phone and ready to ninja kick any suspicious looking sweet wrappers into the next dimension. But none came, leaving one bored blonde making waka noises again, and seeing if he could open his mouth in the perfect pacman triangle. He was so awesome that he was beyond awesome, he was dynamite. He was god. He was cooler than god, because he was HORUS.

[Samuel Rixon]

Nothing is more terrifying than a certain pyrokinetic on a sugar high. Except... no. There really are few things more terrifying than that.

While Horus was playing Pacman, Sam was busy downing an unhealthy amount of pixy stix in his dorm room. His parents had sent him over a little care package, and he was trying to see just how fast he could make the sugar sticks disappear. Empty straws were littered all over his bed, and he was downing his fourteenth. They had come with specific instructions to not consume them like he was doing.

That note was now laying on his bedroom floor, ignored.

He twitched when his cell phone burst out with a long, loud “DO YOU LIKE WAFFLES?!” He squealed and dove for his backpack, rummaging around until he found it. Pulling it out, he read the message like a pro and smirked.

HOLD ON PACMAN CHARMANDUR IS COMMIN.

With that said and done, he dusted off his hands, grabbed six more of the offending stix and shoved them in his back pocket before taking off running. Normally, he detested running, but this was special. He was a teenager with enough sugar in him to send him into a diabetic coma. Plus, running in the halls just seemed like a good idea.

He zoomed around the corner, completely overshooting the doorway to the student lounge. Retracing his steps, he bounced into the room.

“WHERE’S THE GHOST?” He was ready to take that sucker down. “... Pacman?”

[Horus Richmond]

Maybe Vincent on viagra? That would be horrendously terrifying - and worrying for both Sammy AND Horus.

Blinking when his pocket buzzed and yelled out "I ate a grape and I JIZZED IN MY PANTS", Horus whipped his phone out at speed and paused mid-mouth stretching, flinging the phone down on the table and laying out another tictac obstacle course, his waka-waka noises starting up all over again as he paced by the door, ready to pounce-tackle-glomp the pyro with his ultimate squishy blonde powers.

Sure enough. when Sammy burst in, Horus practically climbed on top of him, pointing down at the sweet wrapper with a face that can only be described as "D:".

"'s THERE. An' it tried t'kill me." He explained hurriedly, further latching himself to his best friend and leeching onto his warmth. "'m all like "bitch you aint all that" an' it's like "'m gonna eat all y'tictacs motherfucker"." He added, before dropping back off Sammy and returning to his wiggling back and forth, trying to get the tictacs.

"Shit." The narco said sharply, flicking another tictac into his mouth. "We should go round Hammel wearin' pacman an' ghost outfits an' like... chase each other an' oh em gee we need t'raid th' textiles department an' make shit." The blonde's eyes were nearly hanging out of his head from the sheer brilliance of his idea, shoveling all the tictacs back into the box. A sudden yawn erupted from his mouth and he blinked a few times, drowsiness fluttering across his expression.

"Bu' y'should piggyback me."

Of course, that way he could be warm and sleep while still doing stuff. Horus is such a slob.

[Samuel Rixon]

Vincent on Viagra is pretty bad. But at the rate Sam is sending himself into a diabetic coma... I think they’re neck and neck.

With all the enthusiasm of a toddler at Disneyland, Sammy bounded in and squealed in delight when Horus pounced on him. He never minded being used as a jungle gym when it came to the narco. Horus was far and away one of his best friends. He was his favourite to cuddle with, because he didn’t try to sneak gropes, and he was, face it, adorable. Sam was protective of him.

“I’ma KILL IT!” He shifted so that Horus was more securely on his back. “... When y’ get down.” The notion that a candy wrapper could be a Pacman ghost was completely valid, in his mind. Of course, it could have had to do with the copious amounts of sugar the pyro had consumed in the last fifteen minutes. As it was, he still had a few left from his precious stash, so when Horus got down, he whipped one out and offered it to him.

“Here!” He held out the pink Pixy Stick. “Use this. I’ll get the ghost.” Which involved a lot of foul language, threats, and finally, a deadly POUNCE.

Cue triumphant grin.

“I GOT HIM. BLINKY’S SO MOTHERFUCKIN’ DEAD.” Sam, volume. He paused in his little victory celebration to think, however. Pacman. Ghosts. Costumes.

YES.

“I don’t know how t’ make shit! It’s like... sewing.... and.... LET’S MAKE SAHKY DO IT.” Yes, because Sam had no issues putting Horus’ older sister to work for them. Manners. He lacks them.

[Horus Richmond]

Horus whooped and cheered as Sammy went and killed the sweet-wrapper, tearing the top off the pixy stick and downing it in one, staggering as the sugar hit his blood stream, eyes widening. Horus is pretty adorable, and I like to imagine him as an oversized, fuzzless hamster. Once Sammy had removed the threat from the expired plastic on the floor, the blonde climbed back on him and let out a loud yawn.

"Fuck sewin' an' that girly shit!" He shouted out indignantly, huffing loudly. "We're jus' gonna get some hot glue guns an' scissors an' chop up some fabric." Horus didn't feel like pulling Sahkmet out of her work to come and make a costume - she'd want to know why and Sammy would flirt at her. Not that Horus MINDED that, because if Sammy married Sahkmet, he'd get a SAMMYBROTHER legally and they could do crazy stuff. As bros.

"T'th'textiles department!" The blonde shouted, pointing his hand forwards as though commanding an army. "Shhhiiiit. Dude, what 'f they have FLUFFY CUSHIONS?" Horus' eyes widened like saucers. He could make a nest, a nest of fluffy soft items and they could- "FUCK!" The narco dropped from Sammy's shoulders and ran flailing down the hallway eagerly, practically dancing for joy. "SAMMY. We're gonna steal th'fabrics an' make a massive fortress o' pillows an' squishy shit an' we can text Vin as long as he ain't gay on us."

Gay on us meaning groping and general perverted comments. We know Vincent isn't capable of this but Horus will invite him anyway. He's NICE like that.

Unfortunately, at this moment, our blonde hero suddenly wibbled, looked at Sammy with Help! on his face, before promptly headplanting the floor. Fast asleep.

"We're gonna make such a fuckin' awesome den an' get pixy sticks an' DINOSAURS an- ... Aww shit 'm a-fuckin-sleep." Horus flailed aimlessly round and round his sleeping body, dancing around at Sammy as if somehow that would make the pyro see him. "An' 'm gonna get a headache. Shit sucks."