designedtoparty: (lifestyles of the rich and famous)
[Nathan is hanging out at a bar, just waiting for the chance to take advantage of today's curse. Judging by the bright pink lipstick smear up his face and his smug grin, he's already been successful at least once. Or... just once. But that's not something he's about to admit.]

They really should have curses like this more often.

[There's a pause as he thinks on that one.] Or maybe curses that are a little more fulfilling. There are only so many times a man can take being left high and dry, you know.

[ooc; If you want action, feel free to switch it to whatever location you want. He's just going anywhere crowded today.]
designedtoparty: (assaulted by a chick with a dick)
[Nathan is at a pub. A very, very crowded pub. He's nursing the dregs of a beer, glaring a the people at the bar who are squished up against him.]

You know, they really ought to think it through before bringing so many people at once. How's a man supposed to get served with these bastards crowding up the place? It's really incon--

[And then he cuts off, tensing and making choked noises. His hands go up to his throat, as though trying to tear something off.]

Barry!

[And then he falls off the bar stool, kicking off the device and his pint whilst he's at it. The drinks of a few unfortunate people nearby also fall off the bar, smashing as they hit the floor. Only Nathan's flailing legs are visible on the screen now, but his wheezing and choking, with a few protests about "Barry's" actions thrown in for good mention.  ("Barry, no!  Don't put your cock in there!" and such.  Nathan is classy as ever.)

The display is basically Nathan's equivalent of "Don't think I didn't see what happened last time. Where the hell are my friends? :|" Unfortunately, he's cut off by a rather angry sounding man.]


Oi! How many times do I have to tell you you're barred?


Am I? You only said you didn't want to see me again! You never said anything about barring.

I told you before. I won't tell you again. Get up. Now.

All right, all right... just let me get my-- [Nathan's hand covers the screen and the feed cuts off.]

[ooc: Open for anything and everything! Action outside the pub he just got thrown out of, if you don't want the devices. Blue text is just an NPC pub owner.]
designedtoparty: (inspiring failure)
[Nathan is standing with his arms outstretched, his right arm with five ravens perched on it, and four crows on his left. His left shoulder is occupied by a blue and gold macaw. Despite being covered in a fair amount of bird poo (his navy hoodie may not have been his best choice today), he looks pretty pleased.]

Hey, Captain Birdseye. Say cunt.

[The macaw, Captain Birdseye, just whistles at him, much to Nathan's disappointment.]

No, cunt. C'mon, man. Say it with me. Cunt!

[This time he gets a screech and a click. Which still doesn't impress him. He frowns, starting to get a bit irritated.]

Cunt.

[Click. Nathan glares at him, sulkily.] Fine. Don't say it. [Side eye, then he mutters under his breath.] Twat.

[Screeeeeeeeeeeech.] Wanker. [Click, click, click. And then he's cleaning his feathers.]

What the fuck?! Where'd you get wanker from? I gave up on teaching you that one ages ago.

[Birdseye ignores him in favour of cleaning. Nathan pouts, arms drooping a little.] How long is this going to last for? My arms hurt.

[If you want action, Nathan is around the city, charging at random people with his bird flock.]
designedtoparty: (I'm the designated driver)
[Nathan is leaned up a wall outside a bar, smoking and looking rather irritated. No, he is not wearing green. Which may explain the irritation.]

Okay, so some of you aren't from around here. And by 'here', I do mean worlds where you may find Ireland. I get that! I do. So, for the record? The phrase is 'kiss me, I'm Irish'. So, stop fucking pinching me. All right?

And if you are going to pinch me, at least have the decency to go for the arse.

[Nathan pauses to sniff and pout.]

Today of all days, I should be swimming in Guinness and blow jobs. Not dealing with this!

Jesus...
designedtoparty: (I'm the designated driver)
[Nathan is on a bench, smoking. And possibly sulking.

His legs aren't visible to the camera, but he's sticking them out for passersby to try and trip them.]


The fuck's this meant to be, huh? Family reunion? Population overload? Invasion of idiots?

How's a feller supposed to maintain maintain his usual lifestyle without being attacked with this little running space? I've been punched several times already. And slapped at least twice as much.

[ooc; Open to anything and everything!]

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Nathan Young

January 2020

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