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8 Oct 2015
a tale of two twits
8 Oct 2015 09:41 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rewritethis[For one reason or another, there was a small Ed-shaped microphone lying on the ground. It's gone now.
Which is to say, it's now in Edward's hand. He turns it over in his gloveless fingers, eyes narrowed in a slightly more suspicious version of his usual frown. It's not that he's never seen it before - things like this are useful, don't you know, they make it damn clear to people who they're dealing with and what their prospects are. No, the cartoonish design isn't what bugs him either.
Still, whoever's responsible can't be far away. Before long, with an annoyed grunt, he drops the mic on the floor and brings his left boot down, hard. The crunch isn't nearly as loud as he'd like, which only irritates him more.]
What's the point of an insult that isn't built to last? [He kicks the now detached ahoge away. It bounces.] We're done here.
Which is to say, it's now in Edward's hand. He turns it over in his gloveless fingers, eyes narrowed in a slightly more suspicious version of his usual frown. It's not that he's never seen it before - things like this are useful, don't you know, they make it damn clear to people who they're dealing with and what their prospects are. No, the cartoonish design isn't what bugs him either.
Still, whoever's responsible can't be far away. Before long, with an annoyed grunt, he drops the mic on the floor and brings his left boot down, hard. The crunch isn't nearly as loud as he'd like, which only irritates him more.]
What's the point of an insult that isn't built to last? [He kicks the now detached ahoge away. It bounces.] We're done here.