"Sodding, blimey, shagging, knickers, bollocks. Oh god, I'm English."
#BtVSRP AU based on 'Tabula Rasa'
Dreams of biting @WatcherSarcasm
#CuppyRP
A crooked grin plays around his lips.
"A little arrogance has never done any harm. So what's your name, luv? I'm Randy."
Her cringes when he introduces himself, cursing his father for the name.
*shrugs and picks his fingernails with a ceremonial knife from a random shelf*
You're /almost/ certain as much as you've /almost/ convinced yourself that you can resist me.
*raises his brows*
Why not play make-believe for a night? This shop seems to be empty now. Which means we're all on our own now.
+ is.”
Tilting my head I now have a good excuse to look at him a bit more. Ruggedly handsome, I must admit.
“What do you think, Dad? He looks like a Percival. Or something hyphenated.”
My voice is extra ridiculing, well +
+ glasses. And no, it’s not very mature of me. And yes, it’s also inappropriate because daddy dearest also requires glasses. But hey, my name is Randy, what can you expect of me?
“We can all have a good guess what your name +
+ way. .
To shake that feeling off, I am giving my father a grin, while holding both my hands in front of my eyes, with the thumbs and index fingers forming a circle. Yes, it’s to mock the nameless guy that he seems to need +
Something is stirring inside me when the new bloke has to squint his eyes to even get a good look at the contents of his wallet. It must be annoyance, that ‘something’. Surely it’s not that I am finding it adorable in any +
+ accent. Huh, British. Maybe they’re in England after all.
“Who are you?” I address him, while the other is trying to gain his composure after whatever has collectively hit them. I have the feeling this bloke is the kind +
+ I see nothing. This is odd.
Another voice is yanking me away from my own train of thoughts, and I look down at another man who’s just woken up. First thing I notice are the eyes. Ice-blue. Next thing I notice is the +
+ as well as my innermost urge to rebel against him, the suspicion spreads in me that he might be my father.
Oh no.
I should check my face if I see any similarities, but whatever surface I pick up that should be reflective, +
There’s no way this old chap could pull off a ‘Ripper’. In fact, he’s quite lucky to have gotten away with Rupert. Nonetheless, I look at him closer. In his youth he might have been quite dashing. And along with the accent +
+ smelling shop, and being English. How much worse can it get?
I’m patting down myself - I’m quite well built, very muscular - and then I open the jacket I am wearing.
“Made with care for Randy…..Randy?? What kind of sadist names their kid +
+ out that my normal voice is like his voice. Well, younger and smoother and way more sexy.
“I can’t….sodding...blimey...shagging...knickers...bollocks...Oh god, I’m English too.”
Now what the sodding luck? Stuck with strangers in a weird +