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| Nice Mouth; Terry | |
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| Topic Started: Jun 8 2010, 02:54 AM (406 Views) | |
| Santo Vaccarro | Jun 8 2010, 02:54 AM Post #1 |
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Date: May 5th, 2010 Time: 11:00 AM ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- “Day 15 of the BP oil spi-“… The radio phased in and out of Santo’s perception as he walked the fine line between sleep and consciousness. “New York suspect charged with terrori-“… “More airports shut down over ash risks.” Santo finally gave up the fight to stay asleep and shut off the radio. Whenever he has a hard time sleeping he puts on a bland news radio station and that usually lulls him into a deep sleep. Santo slipped into a pair of sweatpants and a wife beater to get ready for the day. Things around the mansion had been fairly dull, apart from some random violence and personality switches. Anyways Santo was bored; those kinds of things were not something that would keep a man of his caliber content. He wandered out of his room and down to the kitchen. He aimlessly looked through the cabinets and fridge for not necessarily something to eat but because he had nothing to do. Despite not tasting, or utilizing any nutritional value Santo still ate because it was some kind of connection to his old life, and he didn’t want to piss his mother off by not eating her cooking when he was home. Eating wouldn’t preoccupy Santo, he needed something much more deep. He needed to prank somebody. Nothing too mean, on his scale that was. After realizing what he was doing he now moved about the kitchen with purpose. He pulled out Tabasco, Onions, Caramel, a couple bowls and one large serving platter. He was going to make some caramel apples with a twist. They would actually be caramel onions. Santo’s tasters wouldn’t know though. He mixed the caramel and Tabasco in a bowl, cut the onion into wedges similar to how you would cut an apple. Santo then delicately dipped the apples into the spicy caramel careful not to allow the layers to separate. The onions were then plated with excellence that Gordon Ramsey would envy. Santo sprayed some air freshener he found to mask the smell of onions. He wasn’t about to let a folly like that ruin his prank. He quickly threw the bowls he was done using into the sink; luckily they were durable enough and did not break upon impact with the side of the sink. He furiously washed the bowls to cover up any trace he may leave behind. As he looked over he could see the caramel drying and watched as the small visual differences between apples and onions disappeared. |
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| Siryn | Jun 9 2010, 04:04 PM Post #2 |
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Sonokinesis/Flight/Vocal Hypnotism
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Terry had a break in lessons and rather than hoof it up to the dorms to suffer bleeding of the ears courtesy of the chick next door if she was in, or to suffer some other unseemly torture of the munchkin kind with all the little kids running around all ADHD or traumatised by the weirdness going on in the school as of late. Of course all the staff were trying to keep everything running smooth and normal as possible, which was never a good idea when kids were involved as they generally sussed stuff out anyway. Her bag swung from one shoulder, not her bag, but as bags went it did the job. Just wasn’t hers. It had gone beyond the personal style thing for Terry, having the bag she was used to and the top she liked and all that, it was more the principle of the matter, that she felt trapped in the school and unable to go get at her personal possessions. It just bit. Glowering, she bit into a pear as she sauntered through the kitchen door, looking for some crisps or something to go with her snack, or maybe some crackers. A red eyebrow twitched upwards slightly as she spotted Santo bustling about making…something. The scent of caramel invaded her nostrils over the smell of her pear and she swallowed the fruit, taking a sip of water from the bottle she carried around. Had to keep hydrated and her throat in check, as she was never certain if they weren’t going to just take the cuff off and call it quits. “Mornin’,” she directed in the way of the stone lad, feeling in a reasonably sociable mood. Santo wasn’t a bad sort, well, figuratively speaking anyway. Terry didn’t consider Keller to be a bad sort, when he wasn’t so far up his own arse that he was saying hello to his own kidneys, but then there were plenty of people around the school who would disagree otherwise and Terry had not exactly grown up with the most suitable role model in her life. “D’yer actually have ter eat?” Theresa asked as she crossed the kitchen and went for one of the snack cupboards, looking for some Lays or Doritos, balancing her pear and bottle in one hand while leaning to the side so that her bag strap would not slide off. It was getting a little too late for snacks as lunch wasn’t that far off, but her stomach was begging for carbs and wasn’t about to be quietened. The redhead found a packet of salted crisps and pulled it out, yanking it open, the salty potato tasting strange against the pear. Watching him wash up, she smirked slightly after a minute of peace. “Quite domesticated you are, put me ter shame anyway. I’m a flamin’ mess in the kitchen.” It was quite true; although the nuns and staff at St. Elizabeth’s back home in Ireland had done their very best to turn Theresa Ca – Rourke into a proper, well heeled young lady, they had failed miserably and had ended up with a drunken wildcat on their hands, much to their shame and her glee. So what if she couldn’t bake a cake, she still had plenty of other skills… |
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| Santo Vaccarro | Jun 9 2010, 05:04 PM Post #3 |
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Santo was worried, his precious prank that had taken a whole ten minutes to think up might come crashing down because of poor execution. He rarely was the one to think up the pranks; he usually helped execute. If some mutie with super smelling came in he would be toast, and worse than that if someone with telepathy came in and decided to do some mind penetration he would be worse than toast he would be a crouton. Now that he was thinking about it; it annoyed the hell out of him that they could mind rape him before he could… do anything. “Mornin’,” He didn’t even hear someone come in, so the surprise halted his cleaning frenzy. He looked up to see Terry, Theresa, ginger she went by many names but that wasn’t the point. The target was half prank and Santo had scored the jackpot in this one. Terry was a fiery chick there was no doubt about that. Even though there would be an ultimate freak out it might not happen cause she is from Ireland or Scotland; they’re probably used to eating nasty shit. “How’s it goin’,” Santo was as casual and confident as ever. Even though she had a pear he would sell these apples to her, no matter what. She asked him if he even had to eat; that was a pretty common question among students who saw him in the kitchen. “Nah, I don’t have to I just wanted to do something nice for the boys in the dorms,” Santo replied as a thick sarcastic tone crept into his voice. “Quite domesticated you are, put me ter shame anyway. I’m a flamin’ mess in the kitchen.” Santo laughed a bit internally thinking about the fact that he never cleans up after himself unless he’s covering his ass. Honestly if she saw his room, no matter how tom-boy or non-feminine she was she would cringe. “I know if I left this place a mess my mother would find me and beat me.” Smooth enough cover for the situation. Finishing up the last dish Santo decided to finally plop the question, “So I’m about to head out, could you try one of my apples? I don’t want to make an ass out of my self by failing the family recipe.” He held out the platter and looked at Terry with an inviting and somewhat awkward smile. He didn’t just want this to work out he needed it to. |
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| Siryn | Jun 10 2010, 10:20 PM Post #4 |
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Sonokinesis/Flight/Vocal Hypnotism
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Santo was a cocky git. Not exactly in the same way as Julian was, but in that complimentary way that sort of cemented their friendship together and made them a real pair for potential bromance. Terry shook her head slightly, snorting at his comments of wanting to do something nice. Oh yeah, the bromance…She hoped she wasn't intruding in on that. “Things’re alright,” she swallowed her mouthful of crisps, leaning back against the counter. “I’m sure all the boys’re gonna love yer fer this, sooo sweet,” she batted her light red eyelashes at him in an overly showy manner and dropping the crisps by her side, she took another large bite out of her pear, grunting through the fruit as he made the comment about his mother. Terry had no real idea what that was like but then she’d been ordered around by crazy nuns so Santo’s mother couldn’t be any worse; it wasn’t bad to be as evil as Sister Patricia… Her sea green eyes bugged out slightly, mid chew, as he asked her to sample what he’d cooked up and she waved her hand, gesturing that she was not exactly capable of answering, let alone sampling while she had a wodge of pear in her mouth. Twisting the cap off the water bottle, she chugged some down, trying to pretend not to notice how refreshing plain old water was and with a decisive thud, Terry set it down and cocked her head to one side, scrutinizing him. “So, you were sayin’?” in all honesty she was kind of dubious to try food prepared by a slab of granite, or limestone or whatever he was made out of, not that she cared about what he looked like or was really bothered by shit like that – fuck she was related to a goddamn tree – but she was related to a tree. When Tom had been for all appearances ‘normal’ he hadn’t exactly been a dream chef or anything but now, with branches and everything, would Terry eat something cooked by him? No, it probably had splinters in or something, and could Santo smell and all that, useful in cooking and other such fields. Terry eyed the slices beadily. “Just why’re you makin’ treats fer the boys, eh?” |
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| Santo Vaccarro | Aug 4 2010, 07:31 PM Post #5 |
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Santo was glad that it was Terry who walked in that door rather than somebody else. It could have been someone who would turn him into a woman or some freaky stuff like that. You couldn’t trust mutants now a days. They got into all that twilight stuff and thought they could be cool by being ridiculously moody and twitchy. Luckily it was just Terry couple scream here and there and you had survived the brunt of the storm. “I’m sure all the boys’re gonna love yer fer this, sooo sweet,” “I haven’t been the best roomie lately.” Santo said with another sarcastic tone, this time anybody with an eighth of a brain would know that he did not regret what he did. Lately, the young mutant had been overly aggressive toward his class mates and people who shared the first floor dorms. He was having flashbacks to earlier this week when he carried out another student’s dresser and jammed the door shut with it. Teachers weren’t too happy about that one. “I just want to do anything I can to make it up to them.” Santo recited this as if he had practiced it for a pageant. He smiled at the end and wasn’t able to keep his melodramatic composure. Santo didn’t skip a beat and asked Terry if she wanted to try his caramel apple. He was going to try this bare as could be no coaxing or anything. When Santo thought about it, the whole rock body made communicating a lot easier. He was able to hide more and not reveal as much facially. If he still had ‘the suit’ as he like to refer to his skin, he would be grinning and blushing as all get out. Terry would know that something was up shoot the question down like a mallard. Terry brushed away the question shortly after taking a bite of a pear. This couldn’t be… a bit of manners coming from the Irish? Did she actually learn not to talk with her mouth closed? Santo stood there in shock. The brief phase scattered and he looked back at her disappointed. She asked why what he was saying and all the questions were starting to annoy him. Santo wasn’t necessarily the most patient guy in the world and when it came to pranks, he was much more of a 5 second shocker as opposed to long hours of preparation. “I was asking if you would like to honor me by being the first to try my apples?” The sarcasm seeped into his voice again slowly then reaching the max around the honor part. Santo chuckled at himself and his fake gentlemanly mask. “Just why’re you makin’ treats fer the boys, eh?” “Like I said, I haven’t been the best roomie,” His voice was now drenched in childish malice. It was a pretty discreet tone, only he knew the true intent. He now had become so confident that his plan was by far the best. He thought that he was pretty much the most bad-ass-evil-villain-genius on the planet. Then again just like before he held out he plate of apples hoping that his persistence would get her to try one of them. |
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2:21 PM Jul 11