[Ooh. Lucas's eyes go... a little harder. Mouth opening just a hint. Muscles at its sides and at the center of his brow just barely tensing. That automatic thought of oh - gonna go and hoity-toitily correct me like a little asshole, are ya.
(Never mind that, you know. To any reasonable person, all bets in how a person corrects you are off when you blatantly pronounce their name wrong.
The look on his face remains hard - a disinterest in humoring keeping his eyes just barely off of AM's - as he straightens his stance a bit. The slightest turn up of his chin - all a' this, something AM may or may not recognize as all the more proud animal bravado - as he with draws both hands from his hoodie pockets.
His tone floats in a high, airy-yet-keen semi-melody. Drawl continuing to cruise. Makes a fist with his right hand in front of his solar plexus.]
Rule... number one...!
[And bops a second fist on top of it on "one". The "r" in "number" disappears to his accent.
He lifts a brow and... that side of his head wholesale, eyes stayin' and widening on AM, as with a long, steady, arcing kick into the air, he turns himself into pacing.
Each subsequent step following in a similar long-striding suit. All sounds remaining long, and high-cruising, and cadenced.]
...I wanna make it clear that I don't belong -- [Shakin' his head, post another disappeared "r".] -- to nobody but ME -- ...!
[That last bit, in time with one more crunch of ground under a step, accompanied by a further widening in his eyes and a "thump" of a palm against his hoodie, and a further tug in the side of his mouth. Honestly... undecided between a so ha-ha! smirk and a sneer.
These sounds each ridin' a more... vivid, tremulous mid-tempo line.]
-- Ya doooon't -- get to tell me WHERE -- ! [With that one word ridin' more of an up-sweep.] -- HhhhhIIII can and can't go and wheeen!
[Those last few words pickin' their lofty-if-just-obstructed melody back up.
He shakes his head again, momentarily looking at the ground with a knitting brow and his head hangin' low as if he's... tryin'a get these next words quite together as he swings a pivot to begin pacing the other way. Stepping into the reversal with a particularly heavy stomp and brief slowdown. The hand on his chest coming up, fingers in a "V".
Eyes wide and on AM again.]
-- Rule number two!
[...Nnnnoooooow a grin drawing itself onto his face, blank but for a little of that restored hardness, as he shakes his head again. A slight... scratch? Burble? Into the delivery of this next? As he winds it in.]
...IIIIIIII ain't takin' it off for any other men!
[An extra... pull-up in that.
That means you.]
The REST -- ?
[He smacks those fists together one-on-top-of-the-other again with an "MMMM -- ...!" like he's just been socked in the gut. Arcs his stance higher again.]
IIII reckon we can come into an ARRANGEMENT or two...!
["Tewwwww"...!
Another kick-to-pivot, this one halfway, to face AM dead-on. Blue eyes pale and blank. Teeth locked in their big ol' skeleton smile.
Before both sag.
That tension entering his face again on the edge of a snarl. One fist still on top of the other as he shakes his head again, voice both nasal and rushin' wind.]
-- But there's only so much I'm willin' to budge on...!
[Aaaand he...
...fully intends to finagle more out of any deals that might be made.
At the very least, however? This should... tell AM one thing beyond a shadow of doubt: this "stupid boy" who thinks he's in position to haggle did, in fact, come in here with full intention of arranging a contract.
'Fact, who knows - he may be too sure of himself on even this front.]
no subject
(Never mind that, you know. To any reasonable person, all bets in how a person corrects you are off when you blatantly pronounce their name wrong.
The look on his face remains hard - a disinterest in humoring keeping his eyes just barely off of AM's - as he straightens his stance a bit. The slightest turn up of his chin - all a' this, something AM may or may not recognize as all the more proud animal bravado - as he with draws both hands from his hoodie pockets.
His tone floats in a high, airy-yet-keen semi-melody. Drawl continuing to cruise. Makes a fist with his right hand in front of his solar plexus.]
Rule... number one...!
[And bops a second fist on top of it on "one". The "r" in "number" disappears to his accent.
He lifts a brow and... that side of his head wholesale, eyes stayin' and widening on AM, as with a long, steady, arcing kick into the air, he turns himself into pacing.
Each subsequent step following in a similar long-striding suit. All sounds remaining long, and high-cruising, and cadenced.]
...I wanna make it clear that I don't belong -- [Shakin' his head, post another disappeared "r".] -- to nobody but ME -- ...!
[That last bit, in time with one more crunch of ground under a step, accompanied by a further widening in his eyes and a "thump" of a palm against his hoodie, and a further tug in the side of his mouth. Honestly... undecided between a so ha-ha! smirk and a sneer.
These sounds each ridin' a more... vivid, tremulous mid-tempo line.]
-- Ya doooon't -- get to tell me WHERE -- ! [With that one word ridin' more of an up-sweep.] -- HhhhhIIII can and can't go and wheeen!
[Those last few words pickin' their lofty-if-just-obstructed melody back up.
He shakes his head again, momentarily looking at the ground with a knitting brow and his head hangin' low as if he's... tryin'a get these next words quite together as he swings a pivot to begin pacing the other way. Stepping into the reversal with a particularly heavy stomp and brief slowdown. The hand on his chest coming up, fingers in a "V".
Eyes wide and on AM again.]
-- Rule number two!
[...Nnnnoooooow a grin drawing itself onto his face, blank but for a little of that restored hardness, as he shakes his head again. A slight... scratch? Burble? Into the delivery of this next? As he winds it in.]
...IIIIIIII ain't takin' it off for any other men!
[An extra... pull-up in that.
That means you.]
The REST -- ?
[He smacks those fists together one-on-top-of-the-other again with an "MMMM -- ...!" like he's just been socked in the gut. Arcs his stance higher again.]
IIII reckon we can come into an ARRANGEMENT or two...!
["Tewwwww"...!
Another kick-to-pivot, this one halfway, to face AM dead-on. Blue eyes pale and blank. Teeth locked in their big ol' skeleton smile.
Before both sag.
That tension entering his face again on the edge of a snarl. One fist still on top of the other as he shakes his head again, voice both nasal and rushin' wind.]
-- But there's only so much I'm willin' to budge on...!
[Aaaand he...
...fully intends to finagle more out of any deals that might be made.
At the very least, however? This should... tell AM one thing beyond a shadow of doubt: this "stupid boy" who thinks he's in position to haggle did, in fact, come in here with full intention of arranging a contract.
'Fact, who knows - he may be too sure of himself on even this front.]