08-29-2018, 07:51 PM
(( Ick. I hate when that happens. ))
“A little journalism. A little graphic design,” he explained. “I guess I want to do some storytelling. Whether it’s by art, games or actual film though, is yet to be determined.”
It seemed that Aryin took his jest to heart however. Larry was far from someone dumb. Already, Aryin showed him he had no marks of the mob on him. Upstairs, regardless of being the boss’s son, others disliked him. And now, he seemingly did not, or at least there was elusion, like the idea of roughing up others. It was quite clear to Larry that Aryin was not exactly favored for his differing views.
“I see sarcasm has...uh...become lost on you? Is that how it’s put?” He shrugged. “No. Hurting others is not exactly fun, especially when they’re in a situation they cannot help. I would feel terrible if my family were on that end, but, what choice do I exactly have? It pays to keep me in school, pays to keep them safe. Money seems to be dirty one way or another.”
That was modest of Aryin to think of them as friends, but they just met a little less than a few minutes ago. That was hardly more than enough time to form a friendship and Larry reminded him of just that aloud.
“It’s because that we’re not friends, I cannot think high or low of you,” he continued. “So stop pacing around. I have an idea. This is to be a merry night after all.”
He pointed at the bottle once more even. He walked towards it and poured them both glasses full once more. They were shot glasses anyway. Nothing that would get them too wired out right away.
“If it gets you to stop pacing, why don’t we drink to things we like from what we share and don’t when there’s something we dislike and maybe discuss it?”
Larry was flattered that he considered him a friend all the same, to say the least. Perhaps it seemed a bit advantageous, but he wanted to see where this got him. After all, Aryin was the Don’s son.
“Why don’t I start? I actually dislike some of their practices and think even with the promise of luxury, it seems too easy to earn.”
“A little journalism. A little graphic design,” he explained. “I guess I want to do some storytelling. Whether it’s by art, games or actual film though, is yet to be determined.”
It seemed that Aryin took his jest to heart however. Larry was far from someone dumb. Already, Aryin showed him he had no marks of the mob on him. Upstairs, regardless of being the boss’s son, others disliked him. And now, he seemingly did not, or at least there was elusion, like the idea of roughing up others. It was quite clear to Larry that Aryin was not exactly favored for his differing views.
“I see sarcasm has...uh...become lost on you? Is that how it’s put?” He shrugged. “No. Hurting others is not exactly fun, especially when they’re in a situation they cannot help. I would feel terrible if my family were on that end, but, what choice do I exactly have? It pays to keep me in school, pays to keep them safe. Money seems to be dirty one way or another.”
That was modest of Aryin to think of them as friends, but they just met a little less than a few minutes ago. That was hardly more than enough time to form a friendship and Larry reminded him of just that aloud.
“It’s because that we’re not friends, I cannot think high or low of you,” he continued. “So stop pacing around. I have an idea. This is to be a merry night after all.”
He pointed at the bottle once more even. He walked towards it and poured them both glasses full once more. They were shot glasses anyway. Nothing that would get them too wired out right away.
“If it gets you to stop pacing, why don’t we drink to things we like from what we share and don’t when there’s something we dislike and maybe discuss it?”
Larry was flattered that he considered him a friend all the same, to say the least. Perhaps it seemed a bit advantageous, but he wanted to see where this got him. After all, Aryin was the Don’s son.
“Why don’t I start? I actually dislike some of their practices and think even with the promise of luxury, it seems too easy to earn.”