Action

[rianofski]

[He's in a better mood than normal -- not that that's saying much, given that his normal mood vacillates somewhere between dour and downright irritated -- and he's gone for a walk, cigarette in hand, enjoying the quiet.

Until, of course, he starts to realize that there's far more people here than there should be. Either he's been incredibly unobservant and not noticed these people before -- unlikely, as his rampant paranoia means he's noticed most people in the City during his time here -- or there has been a sudden influx of people.

He looks suspiciously at the first person who walks by him, taking a long drag on his cigarette, holding the smoke in his lungs for a long time before exhaling. If he blows smoke on that hapless visitor, well, can he really be blamed?]

[[OOC: COME AT HIM BROS]]

Comments

[rianofski]

Don't shout at me, young man. I'll do whatever I like with my mustache.

[groomingstandard]

Are you mocking me?

[rianofski]

What could I possibly be mocking you about? I see nothing mock-worthy about the situation.

[Do you hear the sarcasm dripping from his voice?]

[deadmanbusiness]

Could we just stop with the veiled threats, please? I don't think a fight would end up well for [Andrew] anyone.

[rianofski]

You're right -- I have no intention of fighting your father. He's not worth my time.

[To the point that he is now pointedly ignoring him.]

[groomingstandard]

Don't take that fucking tone with me.

[rianofski]

Exactly who are you and why do you think you have some sort of dictate on what people do with their facial hair?

[groomingstandard]

Sergeant Major Sixta. Who the fuck are you?

[rianofski]

Andrew fucking Ryan. Is your name supposed to mean something to me?

[groomingstandard]

It means your fucking moostache is in fucking violation of the grooming standard, is what it means.

[rianofski]

What the fuck is a grooming standard, and who created it? I'd like to have a few harsh words with them.

[groomingstandard]

Godfather himself.

[rianofski]

Godfather? Should I somehow know who that is?

[groomingstandard]

If you don't know who Godfather is, you is fucked beyond belief.

[rianofski]

I may be fucked beyond belief for other reasons, but considering that we're unlikely to be from the same time or place, I hardly think not knowing said Godfather is one of them.

[groomingstandard]

You has no idea. ( And he — turns around and marches away, off to harass someone else about the grooming standard. )

[racial]

Oh, hell no, dawg. You did not just blow smoke in my face.

[rianofski]

[He looks the other man up and down, and then shrugs.]

Not intentionally, no.

[But he totally still did anyway.]

[racial]

That's some proper white boy shit, yo, that's fucking typical.

[rianofski]

I have less than no idea what it has to do with my being white.

[racial]

Figures that you've never heard of white fucking privilege, motherfucker.

[rianofski]

I can't say I have, no, though I can probably puzzle out just what you're implying.

[Says the man from the 1950s.]

[racial]

Get that fag out of my face, dawg.

[rianofski]

[He takes a final drag on his cigarette and throws it on the ground, grinding it out with his heel.]

There. Are you happy now?

[racial]

No, dawg. I'd be happy if the white man stopped his fucking suppression of the masses, that'd make me happy.