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Post by Gilbert Beilschmidt on Jun 17, 2010 2:07:00 GMT -5
Gilbert Beilschmidt tiredly rolled his shoulders, groaning as he felt the joints crack. He stretched his body, then began to walk away from the Academy, thankful for the time he had away from the damn School. Not that he didn't like learning or such; he loved to learn new things, truthfully. He just didn't like being there for the whole day or such, and no seeing as how this was a time away from there, he was going to enjoy it the best he could. The German finally reached his destination: the Karaoke Bar. With a small smirk on his face, hands in his pockets, and sunglasses on his eyes, he seemed like nothing like the almost-polite boy with the suit of the Academy. A red handkerchief was wrapped around his pale throat, and his jeans were tight on his legs, his t-shirt clinging to his lean muscles. Walking in the Karaoke Bar, he requested the main stage, then went up, but not before stopping before the Barwaitress, giving a sweet smile and a wink. "Hello, I'm Gilbert, nice to meet you. And with that, he left the front, then began to make his way to the back, plugging in his microphone and getting ready to sing. People were gathering; it was a bit unnerving, in a way, but he was hyped for it. Thinking of it as a self-present for being good in work today. Sliding off his sunglasses, he closed his eyes and sat down at the foot of the stage, a devious smirk on his face. ----- OOC - If you want to join, please let me know beforehand? Thank you! And, for your viewing pleasure, here is a helper: BEFORE AND AFTER[/center] |
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Post by Arthur Kirkland on Jun 17, 2010 2:33:38 GMT -5
Arthur Kirkland was a gentleman.
Yes, he'd been a delinquent in the past, and yes, he'd done some... questionable things during that time, but he'd changed. Dramatically.
Besides, just because he was making a little trip to the Karaoke Bar didn't mean he was going back to his old ways. It just meant that he was a little stressed from all that came with being at the Academy - studying, living with his roommates, dealing with rather aggravating students -, and needed a healthy outlet. Really, all he wanted was to sing a few songs - just like the old days... not that he was going to bring back any other habits - and maybe down a drink or two. Good thing he'd kept his fake ID... though, again, not that he was going to abuse it.
"Bloody hell," the Briton muttered to himself, before striding into the Karaoke Bar without looking like a fugitive that just escaped from prison. He sounded so pathetic right now, trying so hard to convince himself that he was a proper gentleman, and not at all a punk.
He headed straight towards the bar as soon as he entered, quickly flashing his fake ID before ordering. "A bottle of bitter, please." However, when the bartender didn't move, instead giving him a confused glance, the blonde sighed and corrected himself by using American. "Beer. A bottle of beer."
Oh, how much he wanted to order what he used to drink. Beer, in comparison, was far too light. But again, he was here to relieve stress, not get drunk. He entered the Karaoke Bar sober, and he intended to leave sober.
Once the bartender scuttled off to get his drink, Arthur turned to the back, where a pale-skinned boy - he seemed quite familiar, but the Englishman couldn't tell for sure - was preparing to sing. A glimmer of amusement passed by the blonde's eyes at the sight; the albino sure did remind him of himself, back in the day...
...Not that he was going to become like his old self again, even for a few hours. Nope, not at all.
"Goddamnit."
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Post by Gilbert Beilschmidt on Jun 17, 2010 2:53:20 GMT -5
Gilbert Beilschmidt took a drink from his glass, then closed his eyes as the extremely cold liquid burned down his throat to his stomach, where it pooled. Ugh, he loved that feeling - refreshing and clean. Stretching his lean body once more, so he wouldn't pull a muscle or something when he was all jumping on the stage, he stood up and coughed once, then spoke into the microphone; a test. The people looked up from their stools of the bar, and trained their eyes on him. Whoa, that was really unnerving. A smile made its way to his mouth, however, and he readjusted his scarf. "Hello, Ladies and Gentleman, how are you today?" The audience just murmured their responses, either sipping their drinks or turning around to see him fully.
"I'm Gilbert Beilschmidt, and I'm going to be the awesome leader of tonight's singing. So sit back, relax, sip some drinks, and wait for the awesome house to come down!" And with that, the drums started, followed quickly by his ringing guitar. After a couple of minutes, the people were up, dancing or tapping themselves to the beat. His crimson eyes closed as he leaned into the microphone, then started singing.
"I'm bringing sexy back
Them other boys don't know how to act
I think it's special what's behind your back
So turn around and I'll pick up the slack.
Take em' to the bridge!
Dirty babe
You see these shackles
Baby I'm your slave
I'll let you whip me if I misbehave
It's just that no one makes me feel this way
Take em' to the chorus!"
Gilbert tapped his feet to the beat as he sang, his throat hurting but minding none of it. He was here to turn lose and have fun, and he was doing it. The heavy sound of drums next to him and the guitar he was playing was driving him wild, and he opened his dark, crimson eyes, almost as if he was driving everyone to him. And who wouldn't? He was awesome.
Randomly, the German jumped off of the stage, landing on his feet as he passed on the guitar to another person right next to him. Walking across the place, weaving his way through the crowd of people, he stopped before a person he's seen before, yet he did not know him personally. He realized him from the Academy, but he didn't know him and didn't talk to him.
"Go ahead, be gone with it
You make me smile
Go ahead, be gone with it
Go ahead child
Go ahead, be gone with it
And get your sexy on
Go ahead, be gone with it!
A hand extended, to the stranger.
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Post by Arthur Kirkland on Jun 17, 2010 3:41:59 GMT -5
The beer was quick to arrive, and Arthur didn't hesitate to bring the chilled bottle to his lips.
It was cold, bitter, and absolutely delicious. How long had it been since he'd last had a drink? All he could recall were images of when he was younger, when he'd been anything but proper as he held a drink in one hand, and the...
...Okay, well, the point was, it'd been far too long. Perhaps he'd come here a little more often, just to treat himself if he did anything exceptionally well. Allie and Alfred would be glad, though he'd never even dream of telling them that he was going back to drinking; after all, they'd been the ones to bother him about how 'uptight' and 'old-fashioned' he was all the time. He couldn't believe he was thinking this, but... maybe they were right. Maybe he would loosen up - but only a little, and only sometimes -, lest his head of blonde turn into a head of white.
...Which brought his attention back to the boy at the front.
Green eyes moved from the bottle - now two-thirds empty - towards the stage, where the albino began singing. He recognized the song almost immediately. Sexy Back? Well, if the boy didn't have his attention before, he certainly did now. For a brief moment, Arthur's mind wandered back to the times when he'd grabbed the mic and sung this song, a wide, drunken grin on his lips as he made a complete fool out of himself... yet, had the most fun he'd ever had in his entire life.
"Another beer, please," the blonde requested, sending a brief glance towards the bartender before finishing off his bottle and placing it on the counter. It would be his last one. Really.
The boy at the front jumped off the stage, handing his guitar to someone before beginning to walk, just as Arthur turned his attention back to the front. Well, he certainly was a lively one, wasn't he? Perhaps he'd go up to that girl - yes, the brunette looking up at him with a hand over her lips - and continue singing to her, as Arthur had done in the past. Or maybe...
The Englishman paused, looking up at the pale boy in surprise when, rather than doing what was predicted, he walked past everyone sitting by the tables and came up to him, a hand extended in invitation. Arthur's lips opened to reject his offer purely out of habit before he caught himself and forced his lips closed. He was here to have fun; to let loose, to relax, to get rid of all his stress. He'd been planning on going up there to sing, anyway. What difference did it make if he went up there now, and with some company?
And so, rather than rejecting the offer, Arthur grabbed the boy's hand and stood up, lips opening to sing the next part of the song with him. A part of him couldn't believe he was doing this, but another part of him was grinning with the same devious glint in his eyes.
Yes, it was good to let loose every once in a while.
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Post by Gilbert Beilschmidt on Jun 17, 2010 4:03:26 GMT -5
Whoa, the man had actually accepted. Normally, if he hadn't had accepted the invitation, then he would have just waltzed over to another person and took their hand, but since the other did accept, it gave a warm feeling in his body. He just blamed it to be the beer, though. With a small smile at the man, he turned around and screamed to the audience, his vocal strings aching as he did so. Into the microphone, he yelled the following:
"Yeah, hit it drums! Let's all give a welcoming cheer for this new guy --" Gilbert paused, giving a little smirk to the blonde-haired man in question. "Huh, speaking of, we didn't catch your name, mate!" He laughed into the microphone, and everyone else below the stage followed suit, and he felt a little blush come onto his cheeks. Guh, the beer.
The drums started again, and the guitar started once more. Turning to the extremely questionable person, he leaned over and whispered into his ear. "I'm thinking you know the lyrics, so sing along, mm?" And with that, he began to sing, dancing along with the beat.
"I'm bringing sexy back
Them other boys don't know how to act
Come let me make up for the things you lack
Cause your burning up I gotta get it fast
Take em' to the bridge!
Dirty babe
You see these shackles
Baby I'm your slave
I'll let you whip me if I misbehave
It's just that no one makes me feel this way!"
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Post by Arthur Kirkland on Jun 17, 2010 4:36:36 GMT -5
Arthur prepared to introduce himself, but decided against it; he could make a proper introduction later, when everyone's eyes weren't trained on him and the albino. "I'm thinking you know the lyrics, so sing along, mm?" the boy whispered, causing the Englishman to shiver and sputter incoherently in surprise. Bloody hell! The ear was a sensitive spot to many people - him included! He turned to the pale boy, slightly displeased, but forced himself to let it go when the song began once more. He was here to enjoy himself, not fight with anyone, even if their actions caught him off-guard. And besides, it wasn't that bad. He'd done worse, back in the day. Thus, when the albino began to sing, Arthur was quick to join in. He began a little stiffly, at first, as he struggled to get rid of the sudden shyness that overtook him. It wasn't right; he'd done this plenty of times! Sure, he'd been way past inebriation, but still! He was Arthur Kirkland; nothing, especially a little song - and maybe some dancing, though he'd limit what kind; after all, he was a gentleman now, not the delinquent he used to be - in front of strangers, with a stranger, would topple him. Thus, Arthur picked up the song from where the boy left off, his voice strong and betraying none of the anxiety he felt before. "Take 'em to the chorus!
Come here, girl
Go ahead, be gone with it
Come to the back
Go ahead, be gone with it
VIP
Go ahead, be gone with it
Drinks on me
Go ahead, be gone with it!" Smooth, melodious, almost - dare he say it? - flirty. Yes, he'd brought a part of the old Arthur Kirkland back. And he was having fun. |
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Post by Gilbert Beilschmidt on Jun 17, 2010 5:07:28 GMT -5
WHOA, WHOA, WHOA, WHOA. THIS MAN WAS HOT.
What was wrong with him, indeed. Turning his gaze away from the blonde, he looked back into the audience and followed suit, singing his part. He was surprised - but it was in a good way. He didn't think it would have been easy for the other to join in; and he was in part, a little right. When he joined in, he had been a little bit off rhythm and a bit stiff, but afterwards, he returned to be a natural, his body moving along with him as he began to sing. Interesting, interesting. A sneaky smile covered his lips as he began to sing in the duet, following quickly to not miss the right part as he sang.
"Let me see what you're working with
Go ahead, be gone with it
Look at those hips
Go ahead, be gone with it
You make me smile
Go ahead, be gone with it
Go ahead child
Go ahead, be gone with it
And get your sexy on
Go ahead, be gone with it!"
As he turned around to see the other once more, he couldn't help but to realize how different he was acting from the way he had before; and it was a lot different. He gripped his microphone in his right hand, and rocked along with the music again, his hair being plastered to his forehead by his sweat. Gilbert inwardly groaned at the exhaustion. Mein Gott, he really needed a drink after this.
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Post by Arthur Kirkland on Jun 17, 2010 6:02:07 GMT -5
This was it. The adrenaline, the rush, the excitement... this was what he needed. His homesickness wasn't necessarily homesickness, it was an innate desire to return, even if it was for just a brief moment, to his free and devious lifestyle. His feeling of displacement was not because he was no longer in England, but because a part of him, a part that he'd been denying for so long, desired to unleash the delinquent that Arthur had kept locked up. The albino had a nice voice, the Englishman noted, matching his tone to perfect the harmony. It was a much appreciated change, especially since all Arthur had heard for far too long were Allie and Alfred singing their national anthem. Because, well... to be quite frank, they couldn't sing. Allie was a bit better than Alfred, he'd give her that, but really, it was a pain to his ears. Arthur glanced at the boy with a small - most would say uncharacteristic, really - smirk on his lips. He didn't mean for it to be so, but it ended up looking a tad devious. Gradually, the Briton began to dance, beginning first with small motions before moving on to bigger movements that matched his partner's. Meanwhile, he told himself again and again to act like a gentleman, to cling desperately onto the shreds of propriety that remained after the cool beer slid down his throat. Yes, he was having fun - more than he ever had in several years, actually -, and yes, he'd unleashed a little bit of the little delinquent he'd tried so desperately to hide, but the key word there was little. In the end, he was still a proper young man, no longer a punk; in the end, he was Arthur Kirkland the model student, not Arthur Kirkland the rebel. But damn. It must've been the beer - although he was quite good at holding his liquor, and one bottle shouldn't have affected him at all -, because gradually, Arthur was realizing that he just didn't care. He'd told himself before the entered the Karaoke Bar, when the ordered the drink, and when he first began to sing, that he'd entered this place to relax and have fun. If he had to sacrifice a little propriety to do it, then fine. As long as he didn't go completely out of control - and he wouldn't -, then everything would be fine. Thus, when it came time for the lyrics to be sung again, the Englishman took the microphone from the albino's hands and began to sing, making sure to keep it in-between them to allow the amplification of both their voices. "Get your sexy on
Go ahead, be gone with it
Get your sexy on
Go ahead, be gone with it
Get your sexy on
Go ahead, be gone with it
Get your sexy on
Go ahead, be gone with it!" And as he sung, Arthur couldn't help but grin. It was too ironic for this song to be the first he sung. |
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Post by Gilbert Beilschmidt on Jun 17, 2010 6:52:29 GMT -5
As the audience cheered below them, Gilbert's mind shut down. Nothing was more important than having fun and enjoying this, and his heart thumped against his chest, almost along to the beat as his own body rocked along with him. All this was getting to his head, and he shook his ruffled silver hair as he began to get into the mood. A second later, he was surprised to find that another had gripped his own microphone with their hands. One crimson eye opened and looked at the blonde, who seemed to be getting into the mood as well.
"I'm bringing sexy back
Them other boys don't know how to act
Come let me make up for the things you lack
Cause your burning up I gotta get it fast
Take em' to the bridge!"
At this, the German threw his head back and felt his motions become one with his mind. The microphone was still between them, and he gave it to the blonde-haired guy to continue singing the bridge and the chorus. He hadn't had fun like this since ever, and his brain went hazy as he jumped up and down to the hard, pumping rock.
Damn it, this was what he needed - fun and exciting times. In truth, he was still a bit nervous that he had whispered into the other's ear - what was he doing, doing something like that? And also, the fact that the stranger actually accepted was a bit confusing as well.
Interesting, rather. Gilbert Beilschmidt approved, and he loved it.
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Post by Arthur Kirkland on Jun 17, 2010 7:37:30 GMT -5
It was getting hot. Arthur was sweating now, an obvious indicator that he didn't have as much endurance to do these type of things as he did before. However, he had too much adrenaline rushing through his veins to be tired, or to even care about how the sweat that was dribbling down his temple was plastering strands of blonde hair to his face. Good thing Allie, Alfred, and Anne weren't here; they'd flip if they saw him like this. Once more, he let his attention slide to the albino - was he German? He looked like it - that was dancing beside him. He was so lively and energetic; Arthur loved it. He was looking a little tired, though. Maybe, as a little 'thank you for helping me loosen up' gift, he'd treat the boy to a drink. It'd be nice to get a new friend, too; that way, he could prove those two American prats that he wasn't a 'lonely old man'. Now, if only he could prove to them that, if he wanted to, he could get laid; that he could love; that he could, if he really, really wanted to, be gentle and caring. But that all aside, the song was almost done. "Dirty babe
You see these shackles
Baby I'm your slave
I'll let you whip me if I misbehave
It's just that no one makes me feel this way!" And then, just before he continued on, his hips bumped into the German's. It was purely accidental, and Arthur forced himself to send an apologetic glance before continuing on, his voice matching the pale boys' quite nicely. "Come here, girl
Go ahead, be gone with it
Come to the back
Go ahead, be gone with it
VIP
Go ahead, be gone with it
Drinks on me
Go ahead, be gone with it!" This time, Arthur's hand brushed by the albino's. No big deal, or so he kept telling himself. After all, these things were bound to happen, since they were sharing a mic and thus were dancing quite close to one another. Besides, it wasn't as if anything bad - besides irritation on the German's part, of course - could result from a few accidental touches. After all, Arthur had morals, now, and he was a proper gentleman. He wouldn't do anything so uncalled for, nor would he think of anything inappropriate. Thus, with yet another apologetic glance, they continued on. "Let me see what you're working with
Go ahead, be gone with it
Look at those hips
Go ahead, be gone with it
You make me smile
Go ahead, be gone with it
Go ahead child
Go ahead, be gone with it
And get your sexy on
Go ahead, be gone with it!
"Get your sexy on
Go ahead, be gone with it
Get your sexy on
Go ahead, be gone with it
Get your sexy on
Go ahead, be gone with it
Get your sexy on
Go ahead, be gone with it!" It was habit, telling him to move differently; to touch. But he continued to fight it, with 'propriety' becoming almost a mantra within his mind. Maybe he shouldn't have downed that bottle of beer so quickly... |
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Post by Gilbert Beilschmidt on Jun 17, 2010 8:14:11 GMT -5
Gilbert looked to his left, to see the other staring at him as well. Whoa, that was indeed unexpected. His heart was beating in his chest a bit more harshly now, and it felt like the vital muscle was jumping into his throat, almost as if it could come out of his own mouth. It wasn't a pleasant thought, yet it was how he felt, detailed. Closing his crimson, dark eyes that had clouded over and taking a couple of deep breaths, he waited for the ending of the song, taking the microphone from the other's hand gently and pulling it closer to his mouth. The German had noticed how his voice carried an accent, and thought that maybe, with his awesome detective skills, that the guy singing with him so awesomely was a British man; anyway.
"Dirty babe
You see these shackles
Baby I'm your slave
I'll let you whip me if I misbehave
It's just that no one makes me feel this way!"
He had been singing just fine, but then he felt someone nudge his hips, and looked to the left a bit too quickly, almost suffering from a whiplash. Gilbert winced as he noticed his actions - his eyes were a bit glazed over, and he found it hard to both focus and breathe. He just blamed the beer and dancing around. It was bad to dance and jump when you had a long chug of beer. Silvery-white head shook, almost telling to himself it was the effects of the damned beer, not the fact that someone had bumped his hip with theirs.
More confusingly, for the German, he found that he didn't mind. It was a stranger, someone he didn't know; just someone who had seen at the campus grounds. After the song, he really needed to ask him his name and see if he wanted to do that again. At the last moment, his red eyes clanged with the other's green. Hurriedly, he looked back at the crowd of people.
... What in Gott's name was wrong with him?
"Come here girl
Go ahead, be gone with it
Come to the back
Go ahead, be gone with it
VIP
Go ahead, be gone with it
Drinks on me
Go ahead, be gone with it
Let me see what you're working with
Go ahead, be gone with it
Look at those hips
Go ahead, be gone with it
You make me smile
Go ahead, be gone with it
Go ahead child
Go ahead, be gone with it
And get your sexy on
Go ahead, be gone with it
Get your sexy on
Go ahead, be gone with it!"
They made a really, really awesome duo. A smile briefly crossed his lips, but then paused as he felt the sense of a warm, slightly sweaty hand cross his own. Breaths caught in his throat, he glanced down at the hand, to see that the other's was gone now, and he had to focus -- the song was indeed coming to an end, and the people were cheering to make it good. What did they mean, 'make it good?' Whatever.
"I'm bringing sexy back
Them other boys watch while I attack
If that's your girl you better watch your back
Cause she'll burn it up for me and that's a fact!"
Come here girl
Go ahead, be gone with it
Come to the back
Go ahead, be gone with it
VIP
Go ahead, be gone with it
Drinks on me
Go ahead, be gone with it
Let me see what you're working with
Go ahead, be gone with it
Look at those hips
Go ahead, be gone with it
You make me smile
Go ahead, be gone with it
Go ahead child
Go ahead, be gone with it
And get your sexy on
Go ahead, be gone with it
Get your sexy on
Go ahead, be gone with it!"
The song came down the house, ending with a harsh, last beat of the drums. Everyone was shouting, throwing their hands up, cheering, and going wild. The silver-headed singer took his microphone, then ended it, smiling at the throng of people.
"THANK YOU! THIS WAS GILBERT BEILSCHMIDT, AND MY AWESOME PARTNER HERE," He paused, then turned to smirk at him. "ARTHUR KIRKLAND! LET'S GIVE HIM A HAND, EVERYONE!" He himself dropped the microphone onto the ground with a clang, and started to clap, his head tilted with a smirking, crimson eyes and his pale hands clapping.
Yes, he'd had fun. Now it was drinking time.
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Post by Arthur Kirkland on Jun 17, 2010 10:32:10 GMT -5
Exciting. Exhilarating. Refreshing. Just... amazing.
He'd missed feeling like this. He felt so happy, so energized, so damn alive, that it was just incredible! Yes, he definitely needed to do this again sometime in the future, if only to remind himself that Allie and Alfred were wrong; that no, he wasn't an 'old, stuffy bastard', and yes, he knew how to 'have fun in the 21st century'.
And as the song came to an end, milking the crowd for exuberant cheers and wild whoops, Arthur couldn't help but grin. He was tempted to bring Anne here the next time he came, to remind her how much fun they used to have as delinquents, but quickly decided against it. This would be his little secret, his personal little haven that he'd keep to himself for as long as he felt was necessary. Things would be better that way; after all, the less people who knew him here, the--
"Thank you!" the German bellowed, into the mic. "This was Gilbert Beilschmidt, and my awesome partner here, Arthur Kirkland! Let's give him a hand, everyone!"
--more fun he'd have.
Well. That was certainly a surprise. Pleasant? He couldn't really say. Sure, the albino had seemed - and still was - familiar, but for the life of him, Arthur couldn't figure out why. Perhaps he was a student at the Academy? Sweet Elizabeth, if he was, the Englishman could only hope that this was a boy who knew how to kept secrets. It wouldn't do to have a multitude of unwanted rumors spreading around school, after all.
But as the German dropped his mic, turned to him with a little smirk, and began clapping, Arthur found his worry forced back into the deepest crevices of his mind. Instead, and much to his chagrin, he felt a little flustered, and very much like a prey being cornered by an amused predator...
...but really, he blamed it on the beer. Alcohol did tend to warp one's perception, after all.
Thus, with a polite smile - not at all flirty or haughty, he hoped -, Arthur asked, "Would you allow me to treat you to a drink, Gil-- ah, I mean, Mister Beilschmidt? Just as a token of my gratitude for allowing me to sing with you, that is."
The Englishman felt almost proud at how politely he'd spoken, though his voice was just a tad strained from all the energy he'd spent singing and dancing to the music. Yet, at the same time, he felt a little nervous. What if Gilbert refused? That would be embarrassing, at the very least, and Arthur felt as if he'd lose all the confidence and energy that had built up if the German rejected his offer to at least be friends.
All the while, he upheld eye contact, unable to look away from the German's playful gaze.
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Post by Gilbert Beilschmidt on Jun 17, 2010 11:46:03 GMT -5
Yeah, this was really fun. After the cheers had died down, Gilbert found himself being talked to by Arthur Kirkland, and smiled, wiping some perspiration from his forehead. Casually, he unbuttoned his shirt to his chest, then chuckled as the blonde Briton changed from saying 'Gilbert' to 'Mister Beilschmidt'. And as much as he liked manners, he didn't like being called with a 'Mister', because it made him sound old. That was not good. He didn't like sounding old - he was only eighteen, enjoying his adult life. A couple of words that made him sound older wasn't the best words he would pick. Anyhow, the just shook his head to rid himself of the thoughts, but looked up with surprised, and almost embarrassed crimson eyes as he accepted it with a quick nod.
"Y- you don't have to buy me drinks, though. I'm not poor. But thanks?" The end of his sentence did not end with a period, but with a question-mark, and the German found himself staring into the other's emerald gaze. Whoa, that was some colour. Ahem, anyway. Shoving his hands into his extremely skinny jeans, he returned his gaze to the floor, then quickly turned up his gaze to look at the other, his red gaze slipping into the other's eyes.
"T-thanks?" This was getting awkward.
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Post by Arthur Kirkland on Jun 17, 2010 12:06:14 GMT -5
It was a rapid change, but it was - dare he say it? - a little cute. First, Gilbert had been playful; teasing; confident. But now? It was as if he was the prey, and Arthur, the predator. It brought a brief rush of power to him, reminding the Briton of the days when a single smirk would cause anyone and everyone to tremble in fear.
Alas, those days were long gone. He was not here to taunt, tame, and control; rather, he was here to relax and have fun, all the while clinging to morals and propriety.
"Forgive me if that seemed like my intention," Arthur responded smoothly, smiling as he stepped down from the stage and began to head towards the bar. "I never thought you were lacking money, Mister Beilschmidt. Please consider it to be an expression of gratitude, or, if that doesn't suit you, an act of generosity from one man to another."
...Which reminded him... how in the world did Gilbert know his name, anyway? Glancing back at the German - sweet Elizabeth, he had the most intriguing set of eyes, especially since Arthur had never seen an albino before -, he carefully added, "And, if it isn't too rude for me to ask, may I inquire how you knew my name? I'm afraid that I can't recall us ever meeting."
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Post by Gilbert Beilschmidt on Jun 17, 2010 12:22:33 GMT -5
Gilbert knew that he had shown a rare side of him; the side in which was a bit different than from what others all had seen. Hidden away, pretty much. A rather interesting side of him that not a lot of people knew; just his family and Siblings. A little hint of a blush appeared on his cheeks and he ducked his head, intent of meeting the other's eyes before seriously having to take care of himself.
"Wait, Mister Kirkland." He held up his hands, palms facing forwards, toward the Briton. "First off, no 'Mister' and no last names. That is really not awesome, yeah? Secondly, please don't sound so polite." The end of the word was followed by a small laughter, and he began to head towards the bar, looking back at the man. No offence was meant; he was joking around.
"Of course I knew your name, silly Arthur." Gilbert Beilschmidt laughed fully now, his eyes closing in turn. He put up a hand to show that he was wiping tears of laughter from his eyes, and finally stopped, smiling. "How can someone forget you? How do I say... You have a specific aura in which I can determine you?" The German cocked his head, showing the ukeness confusion once again.
"Besides, you're really famous. Well, to me, you are." Without knowing what he had said, he just slipped down onto the stool, then sat up straight, trying to reach the other's height. Nope, he was still taller. Damn it.
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