Accidentally In Luff (CruellaxLing O_o)
Feb 3, 2010 11:02:35 GMT -5
Post by ling91 on Feb 3, 2010 11:02:35 GMT -5
(I HATE YOU, FROLLO, YOU EBIL--WRINKLY--! HAAAAAAAATE! >O XPPP)
Ling had adapted his most ideal warrior face, his mouth set in a thin line and his dark eyes serious. He seemed to be channeling Shang in a sense that he viewed himself as intense and competent as a fighter, but he might have been pushing it a little too much. He was bored, first and foremost. His stay in this bizarre land was becoming tedious and he longed for somebody, for some fetching damsel to impress or hit on. The real reason he was taking on the strangely stern aura was that he noticed that the majority of chicks drank it up faster than water itself. Sure, the armor was a nice touch but it didn't do a heap for his toothpick-like arms. He couldn't just look the part of a gallant fighter; he had to behave like one too.
This was going to be a lot more difficult than he assumed. Even the merest action, usually somebody orating a weird cough or accidentally falling onto their face, made him break out into that immature, squeaky giggling of his. He had to keep his mind sedate and bland, to scrutinize the streets instead of how much that woman a few feet ahead of him resembled an old shar pei. He gave a small snort and immediately clasped a pale hand over his trap.
To focus on something more deliberate, Ling reached for his attenuate sword and began to examine it, swinging it lightly. He wasn't aware of the chubby tourist behind him and the lithe blade cut into the poor man's ice cream cone, making it abate onto the ground. Ling, without any reparation, gave a high squeal of a laugh. Reckless, the Asian teen hustled away from the fat stranger as fast as he could, stopping only to catch his breath and trill more.
So much for acting like an adult.
FWAP! Ling winced for a second, unbeknown to him that there was an arrow sticking of his skinny butt.
Ling had adapted his most ideal warrior face, his mouth set in a thin line and his dark eyes serious. He seemed to be channeling Shang in a sense that he viewed himself as intense and competent as a fighter, but he might have been pushing it a little too much. He was bored, first and foremost. His stay in this bizarre land was becoming tedious and he longed for somebody, for some fetching damsel to impress or hit on. The real reason he was taking on the strangely stern aura was that he noticed that the majority of chicks drank it up faster than water itself. Sure, the armor was a nice touch but it didn't do a heap for his toothpick-like arms. He couldn't just look the part of a gallant fighter; he had to behave like one too.
This was going to be a lot more difficult than he assumed. Even the merest action, usually somebody orating a weird cough or accidentally falling onto their face, made him break out into that immature, squeaky giggling of his. He had to keep his mind sedate and bland, to scrutinize the streets instead of how much that woman a few feet ahead of him resembled an old shar pei. He gave a small snort and immediately clasped a pale hand over his trap.
To focus on something more deliberate, Ling reached for his attenuate sword and began to examine it, swinging it lightly. He wasn't aware of the chubby tourist behind him and the lithe blade cut into the poor man's ice cream cone, making it abate onto the ground. Ling, without any reparation, gave a high squeal of a laugh. Reckless, the Asian teen hustled away from the fat stranger as fast as he could, stopping only to catch his breath and trill more.
So much for acting like an adult.
FWAP! Ling winced for a second, unbeknown to him that there was an arrow sticking of his skinny butt.