pearlsbe4swine:

His demeanor changes, and he becomes slightly less aggravating (as he’s less argumentative) but also even more aggravating (because what the hell was this he was suddenly just ending it here??) Awfully strange behavior when she hadn’t really said anything out of the ordinary. 

Maybe Santa Claus was a triggering topic for him, perhaps that’s where this vendetta against all things whimsical and unexplainable stems from. What a loser. 

“No kidding..” is all she says, confused by his sudden change in behavior. She supposes this is how he’d felt when talking to her. 

Whatever the case she’d clearly hit on something, whether it be Santa Claus or something else she’d said, he had something he was hiding. Something that was a sore spot for him.

There’s a brief silence between the two of them where her eyes are fixated on her feet as she contemplates how to proceed. She’s sworn off of angry rampages for a few hours at least so what to do…

Somethings been bothering her for quite some time now, and she figures nows a great a time as ever to voice. Besides its not like they had any pressing issues to deal with right now, aside from whether or not a fist fight still had a chance of happening.

“Hey, hey Wetblanket oppa-!!” If he hadn’t realize yet this nickname was going to become a permanent thing. She looks up from her feet, her expression inquisitive, telling of the fact that she’s been sitting on these thoughts for awhile. “Have we met somewhere before? I’d think I’d remember a face as annoying as yours but…”

She’s had this strange feeling of dejavu since she’s woken up, but its especially stronger around the older of the people she’s met here. 

Iskandar feels an uncharitable level of smugness due to disrupting her yelling. Although that victory quickly flatlines into a bored sort of melancholy. It’s not the kind of emotion that leads to anything productive, that’s for sure.

Now he’s just annoyed at himself. There has to be something to do that’s more worthwhile than arguing over … pretty much nothing. He thinks about wandering off (hopefully with a minimal amount of awkwardness) checking to see if it’s true that there are no escape routes. Then Ju surprises him by interrupting his manic mental planning.

“Okay I get why you’re calling me ‘wetblanket’ but what the hell is an ‘oppa?’” Was that culturally insensitive? That was probably culturally insensitive. He’s too busy pondering the Mystery Of This Really Weird New Nickname to take her other question seriously. “I dunno,” he mutters, “I don’t think we’ve met. But, yeah, you seem familiar. Are you secretly famous?”

Woops. Oxymoron. How could someone be secretly famous?