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bloodytalon.livejournal.com) wrote in
welcometotheughbackup2007-04-21 12:41 pm
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Bubblely Happiness
Who: Hwoarang [open]
Where: Showers Level 3
When: Approximately 2015 – Shower Time
What: Ummm...I’ll say showering and...contemplating the meaning of life?
Rating: TBA...but with underlying nudity in a communal bathroom you never know XD
Other: Horrible rendition of the musical score "Singing in the Rain"
Perhaps it was fortunate, for many-a-ear, that the surrounding showers were relatively free of human life. This excluded Hwoarang and perhaps some unfortunate individuals to, perchance, catch him in the shower belting out the verses of Singing in the Rain, “I'm singing in the rain - Just singing in the rain - What a glorious feelin' - I'm happy again – I’m laughing at clouds - So dark up above - The suns in my heart - And I'm ready for love...”
It might have been one of the top ten best shower songs, but if it was Hwoarang singing it, well his voice could kill sheep. The truth of it was he could sing and he loved music, he had his own guitar (which was probably being sold off to some beatnik as he showered away). Not to mention his precious motorcycle, he tried not to think about that though because he knew it would reduce him to a pathetic ball in the corner rocking back and forth and chuckling softly to himself. Not a pretty picture.
As for the singing, wretched as it might have sounded for the time being, it was a defense mechanism or a tactic. Sing as horribly as you could and the showers around would magically clear, anyone with the cahoonies to approach him...well he’d just have to mop the floor with their skull. It was a good thing nobody did, probably just didn’t want to deal with him, but Hwoarang liked to think of himself as "intimidating." Sure he could be intimidating and even a little punk-ass sometimes, but to the heart of it he was very much like a big goofy mutt.
Comfortable with the fact that he was relatively secluded, because who’d want to shower next to the worlds most god awful singer, he brought it down to a dull roar and eventually a hum.
Hwoarang didn’t think too much of his body really, he was an incredibly decent male specimen for sure. He was all fine lean lines and sinew and that was about the extent of it as far as he was concerned. He believed he had a nice face, but he thought it was the whole bad-boy appeal that attracted women the most so looks were something he didn’t really think about. Especially not in a shower were most men ventured.
Instead what held his attention the most was the events that occurred throughout the day. He’d met some interesting people that was for sure and he’d even made an automatic ally in that man Reno. Who said humor wasn’t good for anything? The one thing that bothered him most was his cellmate; there was something totally of keel about that man. Not to mention he was chilly and unfriendly and overall hated Hwoarang and everybody else. Still that bothered the redhead who didn’t think he’d done anything too terrible to be automatically despised.
Fuck that! He was dead set on changing Bob...uuuuh...Vergil's mind. It was a matter of not saying the dumbest thing at the wrong time.
Where: Showers Level 3
When: Approximately 2015 – Shower Time
What: Ummm...I’ll say showering and...contemplating the meaning of life?
Rating: TBA...but with underlying nudity in a communal bathroom you never know XD
Other: Horrible rendition of the musical score "Singing in the Rain"
Perhaps it was fortunate, for many-a-ear, that the surrounding showers were relatively free of human life. This excluded Hwoarang and perhaps some unfortunate individuals to, perchance, catch him in the shower belting out the verses of Singing in the Rain, “I'm singing in the rain - Just singing in the rain - What a glorious feelin' - I'm happy again – I’m laughing at clouds - So dark up above - The suns in my heart - And I'm ready for love...”
It might have been one of the top ten best shower songs, but if it was Hwoarang singing it, well his voice could kill sheep. The truth of it was he could sing and he loved music, he had his own guitar (which was probably being sold off to some beatnik as he showered away). Not to mention his precious motorcycle, he tried not to think about that though because he knew it would reduce him to a pathetic ball in the corner rocking back and forth and chuckling softly to himself. Not a pretty picture.
As for the singing, wretched as it might have sounded for the time being, it was a defense mechanism or a tactic. Sing as horribly as you could and the showers around would magically clear, anyone with the cahoonies to approach him...well he’d just have to mop the floor with their skull. It was a good thing nobody did, probably just didn’t want to deal with him, but Hwoarang liked to think of himself as "intimidating." Sure he could be intimidating and even a little punk-ass sometimes, but to the heart of it he was very much like a big goofy mutt.
Comfortable with the fact that he was relatively secluded, because who’d want to shower next to the worlds most god awful singer, he brought it down to a dull roar and eventually a hum.
Hwoarang didn’t think too much of his body really, he was an incredibly decent male specimen for sure. He was all fine lean lines and sinew and that was about the extent of it as far as he was concerned. He believed he had a nice face, but he thought it was the whole bad-boy appeal that attracted women the most so looks were something he didn’t really think about. Especially not in a shower were most men ventured.
Instead what held his attention the most was the events that occurred throughout the day. He’d met some interesting people that was for sure and he’d even made an automatic ally in that man Reno. Who said humor wasn’t good for anything? The one thing that bothered him most was his cellmate; there was something totally of keel about that man. Not to mention he was chilly and unfriendly and overall hated Hwoarang and everybody else. Still that bothered the redhead who didn’t think he’d done anything too terrible to be automatically despised.
Fuck that! He was dead set on changing Bob...uuuuh...Vergil's mind. It was a matter of not saying the dumbest thing at the wrong time.
no subject
"Bastard," he hissed before looking up to find Reno standing in the door a grin stretching his lips. So he didn’t like Hwoarang’s terrible singing, well, the redhead could work with that, "Let the stormy clouds chase - Everyone from the place - Come on with the rain - I've a smile on my face!" This line had something of a louder more obnoxious appeal to it, but the torture ended abruptly and he chuckled lightheartedly.
"It’s an effective way to get rid of fuck-nuts like you," Hwoarang responded in kind a tooth-wolfish grin on his face. Of course he was teasing too, but he loved a good, friendly banter, "so, what brings you here? My charming good looks, my winning personality, or are you here to wash the stink of this prison away as well?"
no subject
His generous lips had pulled back in another vibrant smile though, voice going less dry and more amiably taunting. "My eyes work just fine though, so the ‘charming good looks’ might sway somethin’ for ya." His hands made mocking quotes in the air as he spoke before falling to a narrow, towel-clad waist. Bare feet habitually made almost no noise as the ex-Turk approached, stopping about a foot from Hwoarang with a palm expectantly held out.
"So you gonna give me back my soap, or am I gonna hafta fight’cha for it?" His sassy grin was back, lighting up the crazy-beautiful green of too-bright eyes.