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Post by Samantha McBaine on Nov 3, 2009 3:08:00 GMT -4
The book, it turned out, was quite enjoyable. While not her usual taste in literature, it was well written and quite exciting. In fact, she was enjoying it so much she almost didn't notice Emory return from his adventure downstairs. Almost.
"King Solomon's Mines,"
She raised her eyes slowly from her book to look at him but said nothing.
"Well I knew you liked The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen movie but I figured you'd start reading The Portrait of Dorian Gray rather than about Allan Quatermain. It was Sean Connery, yes, but I didn't think you'd like such a boy themed book what with all the manly adventure."
Sam contemplated tossing the book at him but decided that was probably something he wanted her to do so instead she returned her gaze to the book and continued reading. In the past ignoring him hadn't worked out very well. He always found a way to make her react. Then again, he was acting strangely un-Emory-ish tonight, so maybe he'd get the hint.
But probably not.
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Post by Emory Montague on Nov 3, 2009 15:38:38 GMT -4
Emory gave her an amused smile as she said nothing in response to his teasing. He was in much better spirits now that he'd had a snack. Wandering over he leaned against the back of the couch. "What part are you at? Have you gotten to the part where you meet Gagool?"
He was tempted to make something up like 'Did you get to the part where he dies?' but that seemed a little stupid seeing as the main character made it out alive to be in more books.
Reaching over he plucked the book from her hands. Turning his back to her he leaned against the back of the couch before sitting on it and sliding down. His legs dangled over the back of the couch as he sat the wrong way. holding the book above his head he began to skim the page.
"Oh this is a good part," he said, shooting her a smile and a wink. He loved to mess with her so much. They'd had how many years to learn just how to push each other's buttons?
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Post by Samantha McBaine on Nov 3, 2009 20:35:34 GMT -4
"What part are you at? Have you gotten to the part where you meet Gagool?"
Throwing the book at Emory was seeming like a better and better idea the more Sam thought about it. The only downside to that, it seemed, was that she would then have no book. So instead she continued to ignore him. Or rather, she tried to ignore him, but that was made difficult by Emory yanking the book out of her hands. She glared at him as he slid down the back of the couch until he was sitting on it upside and resisted the urge to hit him in the face with a pillow.
"Oh this is a good part,"
Growling, Sam reached over and took the book back from him and switched to the single arm chair on the opposite side of the room. "And I thought you'd forgotten how to read. What with all the time you spend chasing girls and finding new and exciting ways to piss me off."
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Post by Emory Montague on Nov 4, 2009 2:14:22 GMT -4
It took a lot of effort not to grin as Sam grabbed the book back with him and moved to the other side of the room. His head hanging off the edge of the couch he looked at her from his upside down spot.
"And I thought you'd forgotten how to read. What with all the time you spend chasing girls and finding new and exciting ways to piss me off."
Raising a brow, which looked comical from his weird position, he swung his legs around to sit properly on the couch. "Ouch," he said. "That hurts right here you know," he said pointing to the wrong side of his chest.
"Whoops," he said, smirking. "Wrong side. It's been a while since the old ticker worked." Some would never understand his strange humor but it entertained him well enough. When it seemed as if Sam was going to keep ignoring him he spoke up again.
"You know," he started. "Some people would find my multitasking an accomplishment," he stated matter-of-factly.
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Post by Samantha McBaine on Nov 4, 2009 2:26:20 GMT -4
"Ouch... That hurts right here you know,"
Samantha glanced up from her book and tried to keep the smirk off her face when she realised he was pointing to the wrong side of his chest. She quickly sobered herself up with a roll of her eyes and turned her attention back to her book.
"Whoops... Wrong side. It's been a while since the old ticker worked."
It was getting increasingly difficult to focus on her book and not on Emory. It was also increasingly difficult to keep from laughing. She managed it, though she wasn't sure how much of a smile was visable on her face. Taking a deep breath, she pressed her lips together to keep them from turning up at the corners and continued to ignore him as best she could.
"You know," He wasn't giving up, was he? "Some people would find my multitasking an accomplishment,"
Sighing, Sam closed her book and placed it on the table beside her before folding her arms across her chest and staring at him. "Alright, fine, you win. Here's me acknowledging you're a douchebag and paying you attention. Happy now?"
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Post by Emory Montague on Nov 4, 2009 3:00:41 GMT -4
If he wasn't mistaken Emory could have sworn he saw a small tugging of lips that would lead to a smile on the other's face. He knew that was probably the best he was going to get at the moment what with her still being angry with him and all. Perhaps if he really tried he'd get an actual upturn of lips of the smallest degree by the following night.
He watched as she closed her book and turned to look at him.
"Alright, fine, you win. Here's me acknowledging you're a douchebag and paying you attention. Happy now?"
The brow raised again and he shook his head. "You know. I want to know where the humans come up with these insults now a days. Douchebag is such a disgusting thing. It doesn't even make them sound cool when they say it. What ever happened to dolt or trollop?"
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Post by Samantha McBaine on Nov 4, 2009 3:53:06 GMT -4
"You know. I want to know where the humans come up with these insults now a days. Douchebag is such a disgusting thing. It doesn't even make them sound cool when they say it. What ever happened to dolt or trollop?"
Samantha sighed and let her head drop into her hands. "I don't know, and I don't even know why I'm saying it," she groaned. "I want to go back to the way I used to insult you. With simple things like 'loser' or 'moron' or 'man-whore'... dolt and trollop are a little out-dated, Em."
Licking her lips, Sam decided she was hungry and stood, heading into the kitchen. She stared into the fridge and frowned. Matt's food... more Matt's food... still Matt's food... "Ah!" she said, grinning as she pulled out a glass bottle, half filled with blood. Unlike Emory, Samantha worked full time during the night, with one night off a month... two if she felt the need... and as such didn't have time to track down a living, breathing meal. Fresh blood was a rare treat for her. So Sam took her blood from the blood-bank, kept it refridgerated, and heated it in the micro-wave.
As she waited for the blood to heat, Sam leant through the window like hole in the wall that separated the kitchen from the living room and watched Emory. "Should I even bother trying to ask for an apology, or can I just head to bed?"
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Post by Emory Montague on Nov 4, 2009 15:47:08 GMT -4
"I want to go back to the way I used to insult you. With simple things like 'loser' or 'moron' or 'man-whore'... dolt and trollop are a little out-dated, Em."
"Oh how I miss yor precious names for me," Emory said, sounding nostalgic. His hands were clasped together in his lap. He raised them as he spoke, looking like a school girl gushing over a crush. "Wencher, Casanova, womanizer, and the more recent word, player. I believe you even called me a rake once."
His impression now changed as if he were getting an oscar and trying not to cry, fanning his eyes. "Oh happy times."
As he went through his little sarcastic and dramatic act, Samantha had gotten up from her chair and gone to the kitchen most likely to get food. When her head popped through the small open spot above the stove.
"Should I even bother trying to ask for an apology, or can I just head to bed?"
"Apologize," he repeated, looking curious. The snarky Emory was back. "Yea. Sam. Hate to break it to you but you do realize you are the one doing all the name calling."
At the look she gave him he furrowed a brow, looking confused. "What," he asked. After a moment recognition crossed his face. "Oh," he said. "You meant an apology for not listening to you."
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Post by Samantha McBaine on Nov 4, 2009 15:59:39 GMT -4
"Oh how I miss yor precious names for me... Wencher, Casanova, womanizer, and the more recent word, player. I believe you even called me a rake once."
"That's cause you are a rake," Sam sighed, rolling her eyes at his ridiculous act. "And a Drama Queen apparently."
"Apologize," he repeated, "Yea. Sam. Hate to break it to you but you do realize you are the one doing all the name calling."[/i]
His memory was not that terrible surely. Sam decided the best response was the one she'd been using all night, and continued to glare at him. At this rate her eyes were going to fall out of her head. Stupid Emory.
"What... Oh... You meant an apology for not listening to you."
"And he gets it!" Sam cheered sarastically. She was momentarily distracted by the beeping of the microwave and retrieved her meal before turning back to Emory. "Yes, Em, an apology for not listening to me." She paused to take a small sip of the blood and almost immediately began to feel better. "I know it pains you to have to listen to someone of a... 'lower class' than yourself. But you're going to have to either get over that, or get your own place."
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Post by Emory Montague on Nov 5, 2009 21:05:14 GMT -4
"And he gets it!"
Emory frowned as she left the room to get her warmed blood.
"Yes, Em, an apology for not listening to me," he heard her say.
He watched as she took a sip of her blood. "I know it pains you to have to listen to someone of a... 'lower class' than yourself. But you're going to have to either get over that, or get your own place."
"Hey," he said, looking suddenly rather annoyed. "I have never thought of you as someone 'lower class' as you're putting it. You may be a bit younger but that doesn't translate to lower class." A dark look crossed his face. He disliked classes. He hadn't been that high a class back in his time.
Sighing, he shook his head and moved to stand up. "Look I'm sorry alright," he said, sounding a bit gruff. "It won't happen again," he added softly as he walked by her, heading for the hall.
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Post by Samantha McBaine on Nov 6, 2009 0:38:34 GMT -4
"Hey... I have never thought of you as someone 'lower class' as you're putting it. You may be a bit younger but that doesn't translate to lower class."
Samantha frowned. She had always assumed that Emory's less than ideal attitude towards her was because he thought he was better than her. Obviously she knew she wasn't lower than him in anyway, regardless of age. It was just how it felt. Though the way he spoke now definitely sounded sincere. In fact, he seemed offended that she would even suggest he would think that way. Honestly, if he didn't want to be thought of as a prat, he should act less like one.
"Look I'm sorry alright," Her frown deepened as he stood up, despite having now gotten what she wanted. "It won't happen again,"
"Good," she muttered as he passed her, before taking a deep gulp of the blood. She had an annoying niggling feeling that she should apologise in the back of her head and she tried desperately to ignore it. She had nothing to apologise for of course. Slamming her cup down on the bench, she swore under her breath. Only Emory could make winning feel like crap.
She moved as quickly as she could in order to catch up to him and grabbed his arm. "How do you do that?" she asked, annoyed. "How is it you always manage to make me feel like utter crap for getting what I want?"
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Post by Emory Montague on Nov 6, 2009 3:38:56 GMT -4
"Good," she muttered as he passed her. Since he was no longer facing her Emory did manage a small eye roll to this. Did she have to act so happy that she'd gotten him to apologize? Shaking his head he just continued down the hallways hoping that was the end of the fighting for the night.
"How do you do that."
Emory felt Samantha grab his arm and he stopped, turning to face her with a raised brow. "Do what?"
"How is it you always manage to make me feel like utter crap for getting what I want?"
Her tone was angry. Furrowing his brows he looked down at her. "I don't know," he said, sounding annoyed that she would ask such a thing. "How is it that you always manage to drive me utterly insane," he shot back.
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Post by Samantha McBaine on Nov 6, 2009 3:54:16 GMT -4
What Samantha should have done, she realised, was let it go and go to bed. That way, when she woke up the next evening, she would have been off to work and not have to see Emory. In fact, she wouldn't have had to see Emory for quite some time, meaning that when ever they did see each other again, this argument would have been forgotten and they would be back to winding each other up in more pleasant ways.
But did she do that? Of course not. She'd chosen to be stubborn and continue arguing even though there was clearly nothing to be gained from it.
"I don't know," Yep, he was still annoyed. Sam was annoyed and both Emory and herself. So it was just a big hallway full of annoyedness. Wonderful. "How is it that you always manage to drive me utterly insane,"
"Years of practice," she snapped automatically.
Walk away, and go to bed, Samantha, she told herself firmly. Walk away, and go to bed. But Sam hadn't been listening to herself all night, why start now?
"Anyway, you always start it." Christ, she sounded like a 5 year old.
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Post by Emory Montague on Nov 7, 2009 2:24:14 GMT -4
"Years of practice," she snapped at him.
Emory raised a brow. If she didn't stop surprising or confusing him his face was going to get stuck that way one day.
"Anyway, you always start it."
See. That right there is when he would have raised it in disbelief. "I always start it? How do I always start it Sam? You're the one that always starts in with the yelling. I don't see how I can start it."
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Post by Samantha McBaine on Nov 7, 2009 23:40:20 GMT -4
Samantha was so riled up, for a reason she was sure she would figure out later, that even Emory's eyebrow raise irritated her and she fantasised briefly about ripping it off before focusing her attention back on the argument at hand.
"I always start it? How do I always start it Sam? You're the one that always starts in with the yelling. I don't see how I can start it."
She scoffed and folded her arms across her chest. "You seem to have this strange notion that I enjoy shouting myself hoarse at you and that I yell for no reason." Trying to breathe deeply to calm herself down was failing miserably... what with the lack of needing to breathe and all.
"Believe it or not, Em, this time it really is all about you. The only reason I yell at you, is because you constantly give me reasons too," she pointed out. "That is how you start it. Every time."
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