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Fourth Floor Common Room, Wednesday Evening

He didn't need another night at Caritas, he didn't want to spend it sulking in his room and he was feeling way too tired to actually go off island to find some fun. So, there he was, sprawled in a chair with some mindless movie on, steadfastly trying not to think about marriages, his own stunted emotions, people hitting him and everything in between.

He needed to stop feeling sorry for himself because only stupid idiotic soap opera characters did that. Of course, stupid idiotic soap opera characters seemed to always get the happy ending (even if they had to die fifty times first) so maybe he needed to keep feeling sorry for himself.

"I'm such a fucking girl," he muttered and shook his head.

[Open CR, open post, open!]

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"You're Romeo's girl," he said, realization finally dawning. "Yeah, I mean Romeo and Angela. And it's good to hear that you did because I came close. Didn't though, I promise. I've been biting everyone else's head off though. A wedding. Of ALL things."

"Ex-girl, at the moment," she corrected flatly. "I don't date married men. I tend to be lacking in morality for most other areas, but I do draw a line at that."

"Yeah, I can understand that," Hannibal said, laughing ruefully. "Angela and I got into it the day we got back. She hasn't been back to the room since and I've had girls visiting, trying to hit me."

"And I've had people visiting me, offering to hit Romeo, which is why I'm hiding on a floor that is not mine," Dōjima replied. "Having him right across the hall is almost too much temptation to go yell again."

"Wait, why the hell are people trying to hit you? She's the one that got randomly married."

"I took some anger out on her," he explained, shrugging one shoulder. "So, I think I've been branded as mean. And I'm having a hard time accepting alcohol as an excuse."

"They got married," Dōjima said slowly. "I've already told him I don't care how drunk you are, you don't just forget about your girlfriend."

"That's totally not fair that you're the one getting yelled at. I think we're allowed to be a little mean when they got married."

"You know, it's really good to know that I'm getting some support," he said and laughed. "I was beginning to think I was the devil incarnate or something. I got hit with a fist, a book and a pillow. I'm waiting for someone to just smash a table on my head, really. I swear, that wedding chapel being on that ship caused this shit. How do you go from drunken shenanigans to MARRIAGE? I'm suck there."

[Forgiiiiiiiive me if I fall asleep! Looooooong day!]

"I mean, how much of an ass were you about it? That could make a difference," Dōjima mused.

"Wait. Know what? I don't care. I'm not even mad at Angela, since I'm perfectly happy blaming Romeo for the whole thing, but you can be an ass. They were dumb, we can be judgmental."

[I, erm, already dozed off once. WE ROCK.]

"You don't know how nice it is to hear that someone thinks I can be a little pissy," Hannibal said gratefully. "We had a fight, she left, and now we're barely talking. So, you know, typical fight. But, apparently, I'm being mean. And a jerk. And girls think hitting me is going to solve that."

[SLEEPY HIGH FIVE!]

Edited 2009-03-05 12:09 (UTC)

"We're women," she reminded him. "Usually hitting things, sulking, and withholding sex does solve everything. But, again, I might be a little biased in that regard."

"Withholding sex," he said, sighing. "Yeah, that probably won't be happening for a long damn time. Might as well get used to going solo."

Not that he was afraid of the TMI or anything.

"Once he gets the marriage annulled, you gonna try and work things out?"

Edited 2009-03-05 13:24 (UTC)

Dōjima didn't really believe in TMI, and she reached over to pat his arm in sympathy. "I'd say something encouraging about how there's other pretty girls, but I know I'd smack anyone who said that to me about sulking over Romeo," she answered.

"He wants to." Dōjima stabbed at the ice cream with her spoon and frowned. "He says it was an accident, and they didn't mean it, but 'I'm sorry' just doesn't cover this. I told him that if he wants to work this out, he's the one that's going to have to make the effort."

"In the meantime, I'm going to be dealing with my pissy mood by eating all the ice cream in the dorms, shopping, and spending quality time down at the gun range. I'm not even talking to him until they've got it annulled."

"Sounds like a good set of plans. Tension relief at the very least, a safe way to displace anger too," Hannibal said and let his head thump back against the chair. "I live with Angela. So, we're either avoiding each other or we face each other and we have to talk sometime and if there's one thing I suck at, it's talking. I don't have pretty words."

"Montague has plenty of pretty words," Dōjima replied dryly. "Which is part of his problem."

"Because he flings them around at the wrong girls?" Hannibal asked.

"Pretty words and pretty girls, and I didn't used to feel threatened by his flirting," she complained. "Now I'm wondering if I should have been."

"You can flirt with me if that helps," he said, obviously teasing and smiling just to make sure she knew he was. "This feeling kind of sucks. The 'I don't know what to do' feeling that comes along with all the other junk when you are about someone. Things had to be hard."

"This is why dating sucks," Dōjima grumbled, taking another bite of her ice cream, although his teasing did get a grin out of her. "And you can flirt with me too. It'll be mutual validation that we're still Very Pretty People, dammit."

"Exactly!" Hannibal declared with a bit of fist pump. "We haven't lost that because we're both feeling like miserable chumps who were hung out to dry. We're attractive and that never changes."

He'd sound more convinced of that soon, he hoped.

"I almost had the urge to go get quickie married in revenge when I was still really sore. Kinda glad I didn't. Not the marrying type. Barely the dating type."

"This is why I don't date," she sighed, "except someone talked me into it in the first place." Dōjima gave him a wry smile. "Like I said, he's got some very pretty words."

"And I hear you on that score. I was tempted to go out and raise some hell, just to piss him off." Dōjima pointed her spoon at him dramatically. "But we are not chumps. They're just morons."

"And sometimes people are worth giving it a try," Hannibal said, shaking his head at himself. He needed to take his own advice. "I retract my previous statement about chumps. You've talked me into with your deadly spoon. I almost got into with Johnny Storm earlier today. There's really nothing more than ticks me off than assumptions about myself."

Pause.

"I think I'm leaning towards fighting to get all my anger out."

"Make sure they throw the first punch, unless you want to end up in detention," she cautioned. "If you want, I'll hit the gun range with you. Maybe putting a few bullets into the target with soothe your savage rage."

"Might be an idea," he said, nodding in consideration. "I haven't gone shooting since I showed Arthur my gun and even then, I was just trying to make him flip out. I'd offer to say something to Romeo for you but, again, you punched him already and I lose my focus when he's around these days."

Still.

"Still. The offer's there."

Dōjima shrugged. "As far as I'm concerned, you can be as pissy at him as you want," she offered. "We pretty much get a free pass at being as mad at them as we want, since we're the ones it hurt."

"But yeah, the current non-state of our non-relationship is something Romeo and I have to work out, and probably the fewer people weighing in on it, the better." She grinned over at him to show her appreciation of the offer. "Thanks, though. And I appreciate you not punching him, since I'm afraid of rattling what little brain cells survived his drunken adventure."

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Fourth Floor Common Room, Wednesday Evening

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