lance [damn right it's better than yours]

[nickbo]

[... It's not as if you expected evil to be immaculate.
Still, at least a little neater. The idea of clean, however, has just gone out to window when it comes to this office. Not just out of the window; through the glass of the window, fifty floors down to a despicable demise. Just the right amount of despicable demise though.
It just would be nice if, y'know, one was able to see the floor. Instead, in an act of what you can only presume must be defying 'authority', you can barely see the carpet's original colour. To be fair, though, it appears there isn't much space at all at a second glance. It's... Small. Indeed, whoever gave it to him must have not... Well, the small office certainly isn't the work of favoritism, one can conclude that.
Still, he doesn't seem the least bit depressed about that. Yes, him.
The one at the desk. Not that you can see much of it as well. Paperwork. Is it even possible that evil gets paperwork? By that looks of that pile the answer is a lot.
The man, however. Your eyes can't remain on the paperwork too long after all. Boots almost provocatively splayed on the table he reclines back into the worn-down office chair YESPLZ FUCK ME KEATS I LOVE ME SUM SWIVELLY CHAIRS they're crossed over. Hands behind his head in he seems lax yet rather assertive body language, what with him managing to take up most of both the table and the chair. His expression is what he even more noticeable though. The smirk across his face is confident to an almost unnerving state for you, his eyes trailing over you. As you attempt to walk in (and generally avoid stepping on what coats the carpet) and sit down he merely shrugs, an arrogant tone in his voice.]
"At the risk of sounding fucking clichéd..."
[The swear rolls off his tone almost effortlessly and it appears that such crude language is nothing to him. He at least takes his boots off his desk with a dramatic flair, the chair swiveling slightly with his movement. His eyes always remain on you though and the next words...]
"I've been expecting you."
[Indeed clichéd. Yes despite the fact that the words are the same of a Bond villain it's still... Unnerving again. Especially his gaze; it holds self-satisfaction, yes, yet his look manages to be somehow malicious.
Not for long though. A snigger escapes him. Soon laughing. It seems those words made it impossible for him to keep a straight face. Mocking is in his tone next and he's taking this whole situation rather... 'Lightly' you might say.]
"What, you a fucking moron or something? 'Course I'd be expecting you, this is an interview. Now, c'mon."
[He leans back in his chair again, relaxing. The Rocket member isn't taking you seriously at all it appears. Motioning to the paperwork his a tilt of his head there's dismissive hand wave as he once again begins speaking.]
"I've got shit to procrastinate so let's make this quick. Beneficial for the both of us."

↕↕LANCE↕↕

[/b][/SIZE]
FUCK YEAH[/font][/size][/center]


MY PARENTS CALL ME↕↕[/font][/size]

"Parents?"
[The words manage to be laced with a perfect amount of disbelief; not so much as if he is truly surprised. Yet a mocking look spreads around his face and with a quirked eyebrow a snigger escapes him. He seems to find the thought of parents hilarious.
Again he starts yet his voice is drowned in a horribly condescending tone. His look can't help but look down upon you either, a smirk drawing across his face.]
"'The hell do you think you're asking?
If you're interested in whatever crapped me out on the earth why don't you ask them yourself? Oh. Wait."
[A brief pause for dramatic effect. His expression that of feigned thought, curious yet it's fleeting. Soon enough the grin cracks through and he leans slightly forward, clicking his fingers. You cannot help but wonder how it makes the crack with his gloves on but, one might suggest, do not question the gloves.]
"You're interviewing me. And you know what?"
[The grin. It's daring as he motions you to lean into closer to hear the rest of the words. Lean in though? What, does he think you're out of your mind? As a Team Rocket member, no, Executive it's similar to leaning in on a Mightyena. Can you truly trust him? Then again saying no doesn't seem intelligent. At all. He notices your hesitancy and perhaps that's only why his arrogant facial expression only grows, bolstered as you lean in finally. Then? His voice is low yet somehow it still retains the same smug tone. He manages to still put emphasis on his words as well.]
"I only agreed to this... Eh, whatever fuck you wanna call it, because it was about guess who?"
[Another finger snap. It's fast, out of nowhere and certainly surprising. As you jerk back instinctively you can only hope to wonder again how on earth he manages to do that with gloves on. Your reaction, however, gives him a slight satisfied glint in his eye. You haven't got the answer but it's not worth pressing at this point as he concludes:]
"Me! Got it?"

MY FRIENDS CALL ME↕↕[/font][/size]

[This seems to elicit another amused snort and look of disbelief. He certainly doesn't seem impressed as he once again assumes his overly lax nature as it seems. His boots thud against the table, resuming their position from before and his hands nestling behind his head.]

"I'll give you a piece of vital information. Members of Team Rocket don't have friends."
[The tone is incredibly matter of fact yet you can practically hear the sneer on his face in his words. The statement is confusing anyway but Lance is quick to expand on it before you try to ask more.]
"Friends are for those little kids who prance around practically humping their Pokemon, having hard-ons for friendship or whatever morality-issue-dilemma-of-the-day strikes their fancy.
Friends? Hmph, garbage.
My subordinates refer to me as Lance."
[There's a nod as he says the name. Lance? How... Interesting? Suddenly recollection flickers across your face. After all, isn't someone else also referred to that?
A Champion by chance?
At this he reacts badly it seems. Would phrasing it 'badly' truly work? You only express a small amount of remembrance yet he's on this like your mother on my face. Irritation works its way across his expression accompanied with a rolling of his eyes as Lance does not hesitate to clarify.]
"So what if there's some champion who's called Lance too? Freud would have a field day on him anyway. The dragons and cape? Got one word for you on those."
[Lifting up a gloved finger it does seem he's intending on saying one. There's something so oddly carefree, nonchalant and confident about his tone though. The Freud reference seems rather... Well, unusual of a Team Rocket Executive but what are you meant to expect?]
"Overcompensation.
When Lance applies to me, however, it has a fucking different meaning. Not just the name of some dragon-fetished champion, hell no."
[/blockquote][/color]

I'M NOT AN IT! I'M A↕↕[/font][/size]

[Does this draw a momentary sharp, startled look? Annoyance soon settles in his expression though, an eyebrow quirking. Still, giving a sigh that expression turns into exasperation as if this interview is already taking too much time.]
"A chick. Couldn't tell?"
[Ah, sarcasm; clearly Lance is no stranger to it. The deadpan tone is so practiced and his slightly irritated just dares you to attempt to say something in reply. A vague hand wave, however, gestures to his flat upper torso and he continues rather umimpressed.]
"Just look at my sizable breasts. Thought that woulda clued you in."
[With his statement drowning in sarcasm once again Lance glances away. It doesn't seem as if he's insulted at the possibility of being mistaken for female though.
More insulted at the presence of what he considers stupidity as the man mutters rather too loudly.]
"Dumbass."

I AM A↕↕[/font][/size]

[This, however, is more favourably received. His distasteful expression flickers into interest for a moment before a grin cracks out across his face.]
"Heh, my work? Here I was thinking you knew..."
[Arrogance is smeared into his tone and he trails off, a shrug being issued as if dealing with you is such a bother. You do know after all and you merely wanted to confirm. Would changing your mind be wise? You fail to speak up, however, and his next words are delivered so differently. There's dramatic flair yet not an excessive amount as if to make his speech seem ridiculous; there's confidence that makes him so assertive; there's even clarity in his speech. Not a stutter as he starts.]
"Listen up, moron. I'm saying it only once, you got me? Ain't that hard to remember.
I'm a Team Rocket Executive. This show right here? I run it."
[There's a brief hitch in his speech as it appears consideration flickers across his face. The next words are in fact are far more hesitant and somewhat grumbled. He definitely isn't as keen on the next subject.]
"One of the four, maybe. But, c'mon, I give the team diversity."
['Diversity'? He draws out the word, emphasis put on and the way he says it... A single word shouldn't be that unnerving, you're sure of that.]

I DON'T NEED WRINKLE CREAM I'M↕↕[/font][/size]

"Wrinkle cream? What garbage."
[The words are not impressed, certainly not. A slow blink is also your reply along with a frown. Irritancy works it's way on his features but he attempts to shrug such away, his expression soon returning to unbothered. In fact, it starts to grow close to smug again.]
"Only twenty-fucking-four. Happy now?"
[Whilst he directs the question at you it's terribly rhetorical. He doesn't even give a dramatic pause; instead he continues, exasperation in his tone.]
"I can think of a fuckload of crap that I could be doing as you waste my time with these questions. Move it?"
[His boredom is now becoming apparent. His eyes remain on you and... They're intimidating. Usually they have that wry, arrogant glint to them but now? More... Well, irritated as mentioned before. You'd better 'move it' as he said?]

DO YOU THINK I NEED A DIET↕↕[/font][/size]

[He's oddly silent for a moment. You cannot read his expression; is it irritated again? Amused? Blank but... Maybe it is consideration? This lack of emotion breaks, however, as he gives a sigh. Dealing with you is a great bother.
With a thud, however, his boots... Are removed from the table? Indeed. He sits normally for a moment. The key term is a moment, yes?
You didn't quite expect him to get on the table. With swift movement he lifts himself with... An odd amount of grace? Athletic? W-when you think about it maybe he's not in the need of a diet.
... Why are you thinking about that Lance is on a mother fucking table.
As he manages to stand straight the grin is back on his face. The white boots step across the table slightly, gaining his balance rather expertly. Is he... Is he accustomed to walking on tables or does he just adapt quickly?]
"Was your view not good enough before? 'Course I don't need a diet, moron, a fucking idiot could tell that."
[Despite the violent vocabulary there is a far more... Flirtatious look on his face, a daring glint in his eyes? Once again the arrogance is there along over-confidence and if anything amusement. There's a swagger as he stands and... It's intimidating.
It doesn't help he's far closer now. Still, he's standing tall. His height... When you think about it actually, despite the distorted view you can only get from your position, he's not that tall. Only average maybe? Even a bit below. Nonetheless you can't help but notice his frame is fit and healthy. As mentioned before, certainly athletic and in shape. The uniform fits nicely and... One might even say it suits him. It's rather different from the average grunt's one you might say. The boots and gloves... Why, you might even say the colour is closer to white then the Grunts' original ones, a coral-coloured strip close to the top. The high collar is unlike that of most rocket uniforms as well but... Obviously it's been customized to suit his desires. There's even a utility belt; definitely an add-on of Lance's own. The hat most probably is too. Looking like that of a bastardized baker's boy cap it has an... Well, it's an odd addition but it cannot help but add to the roguish feel he has. Cyan hair sneaks out from the beneath the hat, framing his face. Yet at this, however, it leads back to his eyes and you quickly have to glance away. His gaze manages to be so unnerving and the sneer is so audible in his voice.]
"Got your gawking over and done with? It's hard to take your eyes off me but..."
[He turns slightly to maybe get off? You blink up at him, still slightly shocked at his rash movements AND YOU CANNOT HELP BUT GET A GANDER OF THAT SWEET, SWEET BEHINDDD OH GOD DAT ASS. It seems, however, he's thinking about something. How to get down perhaps?
... It appears he opts out of it.
Indeed. Instead the unfortunate pile of paperwork, the one he was certainly using all in his arsenal to ignore before, becomes a chair. How? Lance just sits on it though. Either he couldn't be assed to get down or he likes it up high. Yet... It's so ridiculous. Your eyes can only widen startled. After all what happens if someone came in!? Surely the other executives, even grunts, would not approve?
He seems to answer this before you even open your mouth to question. Lance seems lax as he dismissively gives a rather camp carefree wave of his hand.]
"Eh, don't worry. The others couldn't do anything about it even if they tried."
[... That's probably true.]

MY EMOTIONAL DISPOSITION↕↕[/font][/size]

"Ahah, 'disposition'?"
[Despite the fact the complexity of the vocabulary he only laughs, putting emphasis on the word as he repeats it. He's ridiculing you but isn't this how the dialogue has always been like? As he looks down upon you his voice is rather drawn-out when he always.]
"Well let me tell you this; I am shamelessly self-involved."
[That much is obvious; after all he did warn 'shamelessly'. He doesn't seem quite embarrassed about anything at all. His confidence you have definitely noticed. Each motion he makes isn't hesitant but instead rather decisive.]
"Some call me arrogant. They're right but so what?"
[An eyebrow merely quirks. It's rhetorical, you're sure. He doesn't expect you to reply and doesn't let you get in a word. It completely supports what he says anyway.]
"People seem to assume that I have some fucking form of mandatory responsibility to be their definition of 'good'. If that means making out with every small fluffy creature I see and getting all hot and sweaty when it comes to making new friends then no thank you. The world has enough of those sorts of people already. So might call that dramatic but..."
[The slight irritation in his words is obvious as his smug facial expression disappears for a moment. Still, the cocky grin returns finally as he nears close the word dramatic.]
"'Course I'm fucking dramatic. Expression is important, moron, I need to get myself across. So what if I'm flashy? Hell, that makes it better."
[There's an exaggerated nod as his eyes look down on you from his high position. Flashy? Definitely. Oh so definitely. After all he is on a table.
"Cooperation is garbage. Why the fuck would I want to listen to other people? I don't see you giving me a reason.
[Of course you cannot give a reason; how can you speak against him? He gives you no time for your input. Yet even when he finishes you find yourself unable to speak. It's too intimidating and you can understand why his cooperation skills are so low. You can imagine him ordering people certainly but getting along with his fellow Rocket executives? You can't imagine it something that would happen...]

THINGS THAT ARE GROOVY↕↕[/font][/size]

"Groovy? What, did the seventies vomit you up?"
[There's a snigger at that word as he looks down on you. Perhaps you should have phrased it differently? No matter though, Lance still seems prepared to answer the question. You can only presume his cocky grin means he'll willing to divulge in more information.]
"What I like... Eh, y'know the usual. Violence. Stealing. Sex. Money. Myself. That sorta shit."
[... D-does it even have one? It was a sarcastic statement anyway but the way he states the actions is so nonchalant as if he is commenting on the weather or such. Thought is still on his face as he attempts to add to this rather... 'Interesting' list.]
"Food's good too."
[This immediately is rather contrasting to the others since... Well, it's food. Not exactly evil villain material. Maybe he senses your surprise at his statement of that and defends it rather laxly.]
"Fuck, what do expect? I like moving. Means I get hungry. Then I eat, moron. Nobody can not like food, hmph."
[He gives a solid nod at that. This... Well you can't really argue with it. He continues anyway.]
"Yeah, moving. I keep active, 'kay? Health's important."
[... Is he really saying that? Health's important? It's not exactly said with the enthusiasm of a children's friendly program it seems to be extracted from but his voice is rather light for once, devoid of sarcasm.]

THINGS THAT AREN'T SO GROOVY↕↕[/font][/size]

"Heh, what I don't like. Far easier to answer. In fact, I'm sitting on something I hate right now."
[Ah yes, the paperwork. He gestures to it as well with an overly elaborate wave of his gloved hand. Irritation finds its way across his face as he speaks of it.]
"What sort of diabolical organization gets paperwork? I don't do it, no way in hell I would on time. It's best done left 'til the last minute or I just sic it on a grunt whilst talking loudly about some made-up promotion that just opened up. That always works, heh. I don't see why he complains about that method, he used to get all pissy when I used to sign with Slowpokes and various other drawings. They were fuckin' works of art. But, hmph, speaking of him..."
[Oh, even more irritation. This, however, seems really not a favourite of Lance's. 'Him'? Who's him? You're intrigued to find out who exactly would cause this much dislike.
"Apollo. 'Leader'? Rather douche. Simply put.
I mean, fuck, talk about having a stick-up-the-ass. What, he's the boss but that doesn't matter, got it? Fuck, having to obey him or just about anyone is moronic. I'll do what I want; whether it's his interests or not is just chance."
[The tone and grin he has is daring and what you can conclude? Lance is not a fan of authority. He gets off this topic though and instead it is rather irritated again, flickering off onto another topic.]
"What's worse than that sort of personality though? Little kids who think their fucking clichéd morality is absolute with the sun shining out of their asses. Fucking moronic..."

BUT... I'M AFRAID↕↕[/font][/size]

"Afraid?"
[This makes him pause when looking down at you. His eyes flicker away in fact and this is one of the few times. Consideration? Reluctance? How... Un-Lance-ish.
As quick as this comes it flickers away. His eyes focus back on you and that grin returns quickly. You of course would recognize it by now; the cockiness and the confidence. That is far more fitting off him as he continues.]
"'Course I have a fear. Hmph, nobody doesn't."
[He admitted such? Lance manages to be so proud in admitting this weakness anyway, shrugging nonchalantly and over-powering confidence is there as he continues:]
"I just don't let it bother me. Ever."
[... Really?
Should you point it out that doesn't seem very... Fear-ish then? Glancing up you can only look rather bewildered at him and frown at his confused statement. He notices this, however, and gives a dismissive wave as some form of consolidation. Out of all the things he had said tonight this really is the most confusing.]
"I just don't like small spaces. Y'know what? It's not a fear, just a dislike."
[Now contradicting himself? He certainly manages to keep a straight face; despite his confusing words his expression remains confident throughout. He seems rather competent when it comes to controlling his emotions; at least, for the moment.]
"You can't move in 'em. Fucking restricting and fucking..."
[His words decrease in volume, however, as his irritation grows. Trailing off his expression does break and his eyes even flicker aside. Where to? You can only try and follow his gaze but... It's only to the walls.
... Ah yes, you thought about it earlier after all. He does have a rather small office, right?
It's not too restrictive when you think about it; small compared to what you would presume an executive but it shouldn't necessarily be seen as claustrophobic. Just... Perhaps he is...
Even comprehending Lance as claustrophobic of all things seems... Bizarre. Does he have a reason for such a fear? Should you press further? Your eyes remain on the wall as you attempt to think on it.
A sharp, clear snap brings you back though. As you glance back at him it's startling. You didn't notice him lean closer whilst you were in thought and the click of his fingers is harsh against your ears. As you wince, however, he merely quirks an eyebrow. Impatience is there rather then the uncomfortable look he had spread across his expression only earlier. His tone is irritated as he speaks.]
"Done ogling the wall so we can continue?"
[... Goodness, he's back to normal. As if the question wasn't asked.]

[/blockquote]

I LIKE TO~[/font][/size]

"What I like to do?"
[He leans back slightly questioning himself, rather then you, for once. Maybe he's attempting to relax? The mention of his fear dislike certainly made him uncomfortable but now he's certainly back to status quo...]
"Fucking hell, I listed them earlier. Were you listening moron?"
[Huzzah, status quo.
The smirk is there as he looks down on you, tilting his head slightly at you. Once again nonchalance consumes his tones as he shrugs off his mostly unusual 'hobbies'.]
"Remember? Criminal shit. Not what I ever wanted to do but, eh, it's fucking entertaining and challenging. It provides risks. Why would I complain now?"
[Not what he wanted to do originally? Should you inquire about that? Then again what sort of child immediately has the aspiration of wanting to be a Rocket executive...]
"What I like to do is what others don't what me to. That's a fucking hobby now, y'hear me?"

MY REASON↕↕[/font][/size]

[A pause. A blink. That question receives a frown as he looks down on you. Really? That's what his look seems to read as he sniggers.]
"You think I need to give you one?"
[W-well... A reason would be nice you suppose. Not that you would voice that. He seems to find this ridiculous, however, laughing and shrugging. His expression is practically devil-may-care but... Ah, you suppose a devil-may-care attitude is just him.]
"Don't have one. Simple as that, moron."
[His grin. It stains his face as the careless words slip from him. His eyes remain on you, just waiting for your expression. You can't be too sure what to show in return. Surprise? It's... Unusual? You'd expect that Lance would at least have a reason for...]
"What? It all started with money, let's just say that.
A case of schadenfreude just developed along the way."
[Schadenfreude? Happiness at the misfortune of others...?
You can't help but think it borders closer to sadism.]

MANDATORY ANGST↕↕[/font][/size]

"Mandatory?"
[That idea. He repeats the word as if the idea of having to do something is utterly ridiculous. That incredulous expression changes though as he gives an exasperated sigh. Y-you might suppose you don't need a sigh of that caliber but Lance really does love his dramatic effect.]
"Fuck, how many times do I have to repeat it moron? I don't do things just 'cause they're mandatory. I don't 'angst' either, hmph. Who do you take me for?"
[The sly grin on his face is not comforting. It seems, however, Lance is being... Nonchalant? Leaning back there's a shrug.]
"Fuck, I have a past but it's not something I get off on or something. If you want though I can lay it down though. It's simple, heh."
[... Really? Is he serious? You didn't expect him to be willing so much considering how he reacted to the question about phobias. His confidence, now, is practically radiating off him as he continues. His next sentences are deliberately abrupt and simple, minimizing the emotion in them:]
"Mauville. Hoenn. Normal childhood. Not like my parents were fucking psychos.
My mom..."
[There's a pause then. He trails off slightly, frowning. It appears he hasn't used it in quite a while. Is he even thinking it's right? He doesn't seem to be expressing many personal emotions as he continues, talking about it as if it were the weather.]
"She was a librarian.
A chronic gambler too. Funny that.
My dad... He was an engineer or something. Can't really remember; not really important.
I wanted to be an actor."
[He sniggers after that statement, sighing slightly. In this brief period of silence you attempt to take in his words. A librarian and gambler seems a bit of an odd combination. A very odd one. Nonetheless his own aspirations; actor? Is he being serious? Sarcasm is not laced in his tone for once although he seems to find what he says worthy of laughing. Y-you shouldn't laugh though.
You can see a slight hint of that though. His dramatic flair, his exaggerated movements and practiced hand gestures would all make perfect for one.]
"Hmph, a fucking actor. Saw some shitty performance in Celadon or something and it inspired me. Some other retarded crap like that.
Whole reason we were in Celadon in the first place 'cause of that fucking gambling habit.
She got us in a shitload of debt."
['Inspired' is said with an odd amount of disgust. Then, opting out on saying 'mom' it seems he continues, once again nonchalance is returning. He really is trying to dislocate himself from this it seems and the last words are said so lightly that... Well, it's hard to take it to the full extent of what debt could be.]
"She didn't expect to blow away the money she took from Team Rocket. Probably should have with what the luck she had. Can't really speak on that issue. I never even noticed.
What do you expect? I was six or something, fuck. It wasn't on my mind. 'Sides, when it came to paying back things changed. Threats of bodily harm when people are after money get really boring I can only guess."
[There's a shrug. A gloved hand goes up to adjust his hat slightly, his actions the same as usual. He really is nonchalant about his past.]
"She couldn't pay it back. Her first attempt to avoid debt-collectors, the first attempt that affected me anyway, was moving.
Not that our family had much choice where with no money. Even if we had to keep moving, hmph, that didn't matter. Even if the living spaces were small as well.
'Course, no one can run forever and definitely not from Team Rocket. She needed to pay something back and y'know what the payment was?"[Of course you don't but by that look he's just dying to tell you. At first he said it was a normal childhood but how could someone call it normal? He's still nonchalant about it yet as he builds on the information he becomes more... 'Excitable'? You couldn't call it that though. 'Excitable' implies some form of innocent happiness but Lance's smirk doesn't hold anything close to that.]
"I was. Simple as that."
[A-a person? As a payment? He's waiting for a reaction after saying it, a hand pressed against his chest as he motions to himself. You attempt to digest this information anyway... Why would a mother give up her own son as payment? The fact that he's barely bothered by it isn't comforting either. Could he be joking? That seems improbable. There's a lack of sarcasm once again.]
"All because of that fucking debt I'm here. Whether I'm still working towards paying it off or not doesn't even matter.
This is what I am now and y'know what? I only care for this moment. I'm proud of my life, the things that I have done."

"I advanced through Team Rocket. It was simple; I excelled. Once Giovanni left everything changed though. I coulda left this team for all it was worth but I was promoted. By Apollo."
[Once again there's a laugh. It's mocking, however, and for once not directed at you. Finally giving an exasperated sigh, tittering as he mutters:]
"Who knows what was going through his mind..."

[/blockquote]

OH AND BY THE WAY↕↕[/font][/size]

[Thankfully it's over. A sigh of relief cannot help but escape you. It was... Quick? A lot has happened and Lance is on a table. That fact hasn't left you. As you finally speak up and express this fact and ask if there's anything he wants to add. Lance doesn't seem particularly affected. Of course he wouldn't. This interview didn't mean anything to him. As you stand up, however, his voice cuts through.]
"Just a sec, I got something for ya..."
[W-what could it be? Fear might fill you as he stands up. Finally getting up off the paperwork (how on earth was it sturdy for so long? You can't help but be amazed by that...) there's a slight thud as he gets off the desk for once. Maybe he's thinking as he does so? Leaning against the desk now, instead of sitting back down however, he grins.]
"On your way out if you see any other grunts tell 'em to report to me. Say something about a promotion Apollo is 'willing' to give. Guess the paperwork should get started on..."
[... Back to procrastination...]

PROXY FOR~[/font][/size]

nickbonickbonickbo

[/color][/blockquote]

[Banette]

;wwwwww;

-gets down on one knee-

CAN I MARRY HIM? PLEASE?

-shot and burned-

Kidding, kidding. He's awesome though. xD YAY PROCRASTINATION AND AN OVERLOAD OF CUSSING! AND OOOOH 'DAT ASS 8E

AC-CEPT-UD!