Grown-Up-Girl Bonding Time [[Justina]]

[Red Blaze]

Red had decided to be the rock.

It was a weird thought, since she had previously been the total opposite of the group's rock, but after her wierd-depressed stage (and especially now that it was over), she figured she had even more of a duty to hold the group together. That, and there was always the creeping guilt that she was falling for the man they'd all hated since the formation of their odd little clan.

Whoops.

Either way, she knew Seph and Ki and Cris and Raea--basically, the girls--well enough, it was Justin (or, rather, the fifth girl) that she hadn't had that awkward-but-often-hilarious bonding time with. It was even more of a crime because he and Cris were official (just like she'd predicted. Just sayin'). The thought sparked the idea that she should get to know Pride, too; but she'd worry about that later.

Right now, she was rather busy sneaking into the boy's room.

It had taken stealth, surely; she'd snagged--er, borrowed--a blonde wig from a nearby costume shop, bound her chest, and thrown on her most boyish and torn-up cloths, then strode with a sort of flailish swag (she didn't quite do it right--Justin was really the only one who could pull it off) up to the front desk.

"Hey, I'm, uh, Justin Flyte. I lost my room key. And... number...?" The redhead brushed back the itchy strands of blonde plastic from her head as the girl behind the desk rose a questioning brow, decided she didn't care, and handed Red the key.

"Room five." She offered in a practiced monotone. "I'm sure you remember how to get there."

Red beamed, then coughed, nodding slowly.

"Yeah, uh, sure. Thanks, lady."

As soon as Red was out of the woman's prying gaze she tore around the corner, ripping off the bondage under her shirt and the wig, tossed them on the floor, and inserted the key into the lock, whooshing the door open and falling into the room, a bit overexcited.

And she was in.



Comments. BAHA. This post kinda fails. It's really short. DX BUT oh well. I wasn't really sure how to end it. BAHAAAAAA. :B

[Justin Flyte]

Justin Flyte

I just want to celebrate another day of livin',
I just want to celebrate another day of life!
I put my faith in the people,
But the people let me down.
So I turned the other way,
And I carry on, anyhow.
That's why I'm telling you!


.xXx. Justin was ironing his pants. So what? He didn’t give a shit what other guys thought was ‘manly,’ because he didn’t want his pants to be damn-well wrinkly. Deal with life, and move on. I mean, would you want to go to some expensive place, and have everyone stare at you, with their noses in the air and be all, “OH DEAR GOD. LOOK AT HOW WRINKLY THOU PANTS ARE,”? I think not. Justin was happily thinking these things as he ironed, also while attempting not to burn himself for the fourth time. And trust me, he had the marks to prove it. As I’m sure you can imagine, Justin was currently doing what a modern day housewife might. He was standing in his underwear, which yes—were boxers, despite how some joked he wore tidy-widies, and ironing his pants. Oh, that was while blasting the radio. I mean, it was late for humans, sure. But Justin was a Red; he literally lived during the night. Plus, it wasn’t as if anyone would just barge in, especially with him ironing his clothes while only in his---Justin’s thought came to a halt, as the door opened, and in walked Red.


Underwear.


Justin stood there for a moment, a brow raised, before taking everything in, within seconds, Oh, dear lord. He was ironing his pants, in his underwear, blasting some song he wasn’t paying attention to. I mean... Gay much? Justin immediately dropped the iron, leaving it on his pants, before stumbling back rather frantically. His expression changed to slight fear, before Justin grabbed a pillow, to cover himself, all the while fumbling towards the kitchen. What? Couldn’t blame the poor boy, he was frightened. Justin grabbed around for the radio, trying to keep his eye on Red, but failed rather miserably. As he flailed about with one hand for the musical device, it was only fate that the machine fell off, and landed on his foot.


Oh, it was amazing how things like this happened to him.


The boy hunched forwards, grabbing his foot with his free hand, before resuming to hop around, as the radio made unattractive screeching noises on the floor. Damn it! It was at that very second, Justin smelt burning. And he looked towards his pants, to see steam rising up from the unattended iron. SHIT. Justin hopped forwards, before unplugging the iron, and grabbing the ironing board, before throwing the pillow away. Aha! The ironing board worked perfect as a cover up! Justin backed up slowly, before kicking the radio, immediately shutting it up it up. Only then, did Justin lean against the counter, and sigh, his chest heaving slightly. Time to act natural.


“Hi.”


Oh, he was good. Like, hell yes. His moves had moves. Justin cleared his throat, pretending to ignore the mess that was now his room. He casually put an arm on the countertop to lean his head on, before stumbling back again, and catching his balance. Dear god, he needed help. The fledgling coughed, and ran a hand down his face. Now, was there some way to cover up for his un-manly actions? He could say he’d been paid... Or he’d been watching football. NO, he’d been covering up for being a total gangster. What the hell? That didn’t even make sense. Justin sighed, before slouching slightly, and looking towards Red.


“Got anything you need ironed?”


Well, there goes being manly...


Well, I can't be bothered with sorrow,
And I can't be bothered with hate, no, no!
I'm using up my time by feeling fine, every day,
That's why I'm telling you I just want to celebrate!

[/i][/center]



Words: 678
Muse: CRAP
Notes: This fails, and I didn't proof it. But I dun't have much time, and wanted to post. :3[/size][/blockquote]

[Red Blaze]

It took Red a moment to understand what she was seeing.

She didn’t know what it was—but for a second, the half-naked boy ironing his pants in front of her didn’t exactly register.

They both, the redhead and the naked ironer, stared at each other for a moment, Red frozen with one hand on the doorknob and Justin with one cocked brow.

Red noticed the radio, which was blasting ‘Boys, Boys, Boys’, and then raised her brows slowly.

”Uh. Nice song.”

Justin’s aura suddenly fell into panic mode, and Red snorted a laugh as the boy dove to cover himself. He flung himself into the kitchen; and the sound of crashing drew the curious redhead away from the door. Jusitin suddenly hopped toward her, accompanied by the screeching of the radio—now in several pieces on the floor. She slid out of the way as the boy, covering himself with a pillow and gripping one foot, unplugged the iron and discarded the pillow, clutching the ironing board tightly.

The radio was quickly shut up with a kick from Justin, and Red pressed a hand to her mouth, stopping another unattractive snort.

Looks like she had come at a bad time.

Justin leaned suavely against the counter, sighing and very visibly attempting to regain composure.

“Hi.”

Justin leisurely draped his arm over the counter and his head on his hand, then he coughed and ran a hand over his face before turning to Red, who raised her brows.

“Got anything you need ironed?”

Red, very slowly, dropped her hand from her mouth. There was, again, a rather awkward moment of the two staring at each other, before Red leaned down, grabbing the pair of freshly ironed pants that now adorned the ground.

”Got pants?”

She grinned, stepping forward to offer the garment to the pantless boy.

”You know, if I knew you were expecting Cris, I wouldn’t’ve come over. But, seeing as I’m here, we might need to talk about your secret passion for ironing and listening to music about hot guys.” Red leaned forward, eyes darting about the room before resting on him again meaningfully. ”Got anything you need to tell me?”

She grinned deviously.

”Because, really, Justina. It’s not much of a secret.”

Because, really, who would be surprised to learn the flailer was a flamer?



Comments. WELL. This slightly fails. A lot. Red is acting really weird. I can’t figure out why. DX