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Realistic or Modern A Whole New World [Aladdin AU Main]
- Thread starter apolla
- Start date
apolla
❛ it's only love, nobody dies ❜
RORI
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apolla
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Bang Bang
what can I say except
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[div class=fyuri11wrapper][div class=fyuri11imagebox][div class=fyuri11overlayparent][div class=fyuri11overlay][div class=fyuri11header]Jafar Deja
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Maintaining a public image was a tricky thing for Jafar. After all, he had to tread the careful line between formal and informal; efficient, but never a dweeb; the popular guy but never enough to put the teachers off. Whilst he'd much prefer to have spent the first night back alone in his room studying so that he could show off on the morn, the aforementioned dilemma bound him to attend the fucking tragic 'Welcome Back Bonfire'. It was everything the stereotypes about boarding school parties said it would be, presided over by disinterested teachers and already someone - Jafar would bet good money it was Iago - had spiked the punch. Cretins, Jafar thought to himself as he stood, soda in hand, looking about to see with whom he ought to mingle.
The Jock crew were already being their usual obnoxious selves and had picked up several girls, carrying them about on their shoulders, whilst others were throwing things on the bonfire like the neanderthal caveman idiots they were. Admittedly, most of Jafar's distaste for the group of guys best summarized as 'Jocks' lay in the fact that they were the one group in this school that refused to be properly beguiled by him, and failing that, they didn't even have the common decency to fear him. They by far posed the biggest threat to his re-election as Council President this year. Which was fine. He'd simply have to introduce them to all the excellent reasons people were scared of him.
He was about to approach them when, as he set one foot forward, a body collided with him. Said body managed to knock into him in such a manner that his soda spilled down his crisp white shirt, staining it a pale brown. It would wash out, but nonetheless, now he'd look like a complete twit for the evening. Rage at the ready, he looked up from the damage to regard his assailant; his temper died upon identifying the culprit. "Well, if it isn't Rori Lawson," Jafar drawled, eyes narrowing as a smirk pricked up the left corner of his mouth.
Okay, yes, he ought to verbally destroy her given how his shirt was now a mess, but Rori Lawson was on a certain list of his, that list being the 'People I want at my disposal on the council' list. Rori might be scholarship trash just like her idiot friend Aladdin (and Jafar, but hush) but she was nonetheless Jafar's kind of person, efficient, self-controlled (despite the crash) and intolerant of morons. How she had remained friends with Aladdin, he would never understand. Jafar wasn't interested in her tits, impressive as they were, but most of the hormonal teenage guys at the school were, and that warranted her a kind of power. Having her on his side would be an asset, and better yet, she was one of the few people in this hellhole that he actually liked.
"Good Summer?" He asked lazily, dabbing at his shirt with the jumper he wore tied about his neck. He didn't wait for an answer before adding, "I hope you took time to consider last year's offer. Once I'm re-elected, I'd like some actual competent people at my side. We can just pretend this," he gestured between them and his stained shirt, "never happened."
[/div][/div][/div][div class=fyuri11credit]code by
Fable
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Tags:
apolla
Notes: Others, feel free to interrupt and/or join in. P.s. even I reckon it was Iago who spiked the punch.
[div class=fyuri11wrapper][div class=fyuri11imagebox][div class=fyuri11overlayparent][div class=fyuri11overlay][div class=fyuri11header]Jafar Deja
Council President
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The Jock crew were already being their usual obnoxious selves and had picked up several girls, carrying them about on their shoulders, whilst others were throwing things on the bonfire like the neanderthal caveman idiots they were. Admittedly, most of Jafar's distaste for the group of guys best summarized as 'Jocks' lay in the fact that they were the one group in this school that refused to be properly beguiled by him, and failing that, they didn't even have the common decency to fear him. They by far posed the biggest threat to his re-election as Council President this year. Which was fine. He'd simply have to introduce them to all the excellent reasons people were scared of him.
He was about to approach them when, as he set one foot forward, a body collided with him. Said body managed to knock into him in such a manner that his soda spilled down his crisp white shirt, staining it a pale brown. It would wash out, but nonetheless, now he'd look like a complete twit for the evening. Rage at the ready, he looked up from the damage to regard his assailant; his temper died upon identifying the culprit. "Well, if it isn't Rori Lawson," Jafar drawled, eyes narrowing as a smirk pricked up the left corner of his mouth.
Okay, yes, he ought to verbally destroy her given how his shirt was now a mess, but Rori Lawson was on a certain list of his, that list being the 'People I want at my disposal on the council' list. Rori might be scholarship trash just like her idiot friend Aladdin (and Jafar, but hush) but she was nonetheless Jafar's kind of person, efficient, self-controlled (despite the crash) and intolerant of morons. How she had remained friends with Aladdin, he would never understand. Jafar wasn't interested in her tits, impressive as they were, but most of the hormonal teenage guys at the school were, and that warranted her a kind of power. Having her on his side would be an asset, and better yet, she was one of the few people in this hellhole that he actually liked.
"Good Summer?" He asked lazily, dabbing at his shirt with the jumper he wore tied about his neck. He didn't wait for an answer before adding, "I hope you took time to consider last year's offer. Once I'm re-elected, I'd like some actual competent people at my side. We can just pretend this," he gestured between them and his stained shirt, "never happened."
[/div][/div][/div][div class=fyuri11credit]code by
Fable
[/div]Tags:
apolla
Notes: Others, feel free to interrupt and/or join in. P.s. even I reckon it was Iago who spiked the punch.
Maintaining a public image was a tricky thing for Jafar. After all, he had to tread the careful line between formal and informal; efficient, but never a dweeb; the popular guy but never enough to put the teachers off. Whilst he'd much prefer to have spent the first night back alone in his room studying so that he could show off on the morn, the aforementioned dilemma bound him to attend the fucking tragic 'Welcome Back Bonfire'. It was everything the stereotypes about boarding school parties said it would be, presided over by disinterested teachers and already someone - Jafar would bet good money it was Iago - had spiked the punch. Cretins, Jafar thought to himself as he stood, soda in hand, looking about to see with whom he ought to mingle.
The Jock crew were already being their usual obnoxious selves and had picked up several girls, carrying them about on their shoulders, whilst others were throwing things on the bonfire like the neanderthal caveman idiots they were. Admittedly, most of Jafar's distaste for the group of guys best summarized as 'Jocks' lay in the fact that they were the one group in this school that refused to be properly beguiled by him, and failing that, they didn't even have the common decency to fear him. They by far posed the biggest threat to his re-election as Council President this year. Which was fine. He'd simply have to introduce them to all the excellent reasons people were scared of him.
He was about to approach them when, as he set one foot forward, a body collided with him. Said body managed to knock into him in such a manner that his soda spilled down his crisp white shirt, staining it a pale brown. It would wash out, but nonetheless, now he'd look like a complete twit for the evening. Rage at the ready, he looked up from the damage to regard his assailant; his temper died upon identifying the culprit. "Well, if it isn't Rori Lawson," Jafar drawled, eyes narrowing as a smirk pricked up the left corner of his mouth.
Okay, yes, he ought to verbally destroy her given how his shirt was now a mess, but Rori Lawson was on a certain list of his, that list being the 'People I want at my disposal on the council' list. Rori might be scholarship trash just like her idiot friend Aladdin (and Jafar, but hush) but she was nonetheless Jafar's kind of person, efficient, self-controlled (despite the crash) and intolerant of morons. How she had remained friends with Aladdin, he would never understand. Jafar wasn't interested in her tits, impressive as they were, but most of the hormonal teenage guys at the school were, and that warranted her a kind of power. Having her on his side would be an asset, and better yet, she was one of the few people in this hellhole that he actually liked.
"Good Summer?" He asked lazily, dabbing at his shirt with the jumper he wore tied about his neck. He didn't wait for an answer before adding, "I hope you took time to consider last year's offer. Once I'm re-elected, I'd like some actual competent people at my side. We can just pretend this," he gestured between them and his stained shirt, "never happened."
The Jock crew were already being their usual obnoxious selves and had picked up several girls, carrying them about on their shoulders, whilst others were throwing things on the bonfire like the neanderthal caveman idiots they were. Admittedly, most of Jafar's distaste for the group of guys best summarized as 'Jocks' lay in the fact that they were the one group in this school that refused to be properly beguiled by him, and failing that, they didn't even have the common decency to fear him. They by far posed the biggest threat to his re-election as Council President this year. Which was fine. He'd simply have to introduce them to all the excellent reasons people were scared of him.
He was about to approach them when, as he set one foot forward, a body collided with him. Said body managed to knock into him in such a manner that his soda spilled down his crisp white shirt, staining it a pale brown. It would wash out, but nonetheless, now he'd look like a complete twit for the evening. Rage at the ready, he looked up from the damage to regard his assailant; his temper died upon identifying the culprit. "Well, if it isn't Rori Lawson," Jafar drawled, eyes narrowing as a smirk pricked up the left corner of his mouth.
Okay, yes, he ought to verbally destroy her given how his shirt was now a mess, but Rori Lawson was on a certain list of his, that list being the 'People I want at my disposal on the council' list. Rori might be scholarship trash just like her idiot friend Aladdin (and Jafar, but hush) but she was nonetheless Jafar's kind of person, efficient, self-controlled (despite the crash) and intolerant of morons. How she had remained friends with Aladdin, he would never understand. Jafar wasn't interested in her tits, impressive as they were, but most of the hormonal teenage guys at the school were, and that warranted her a kind of power. Having her on his side would be an asset, and better yet, she was one of the few people in this hellhole that he actually liked.
"Good Summer?" He asked lazily, dabbing at his shirt with the jumper he wore tied about his neck. He didn't wait for an answer before adding, "I hope you took time to consider last year's offer. Once I'm re-elected, I'd like some actual competent people at my side. We can just pretend this," he gestured between them and his stained shirt, "never happened."
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CharlieBoy
Space Cowboy
Aladdin was already sat outside the principals office. He didn’t know why, but it was probably because he was being told off for something. He couldn’t even think what but, he could only think of what a terrible start to the year this was.
He looked down the empty corridor and could see the reflections of lights dancing in the glass of the doors from outside. He really wanted to be at home- but, if he had to be here, he wanted to be out there. Where people were having fun.
Besides, where even is the principal!
He sighed, as he slumped deeper into his chair and waited. And. Waited. His time being completely wasted. He held his head in his hands. This was not what he needed. Not now. Not ever.
He could tell this year was going to suck. And it hadn’t even properly begun.
He looked down the empty corridor and could see the reflections of lights dancing in the glass of the doors from outside. He really wanted to be at home- but, if he had to be here, he wanted to be out there. Where people were having fun.
Besides, where even is the principal!
He sighed, as he slumped deeper into his chair and waited. And. Waited. His time being completely wasted. He held his head in his hands. This was not what he needed. Not now. Not ever.
He could tell this year was going to suck. And it hadn’t even properly begun.
Seasplash241
An on fire garbage can
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Iago Babagha
It was easy to sneak in the booze. It was even easier to slip in into the punch, which surprised Iago. There were teachers here, and they didn't see that? Interesting... As Iago watched his handy work unfold with some people already intoxicated, he refiled his own cup with his second flask. This was the good shit, not that dollar store garbage he put in the punch. With a nice buzz in his system, he pondered what to do next.
See, the thing is, Iago wasn't exactly popular, in the traditionally sense. He knew that, everyone else knew that, let's not make a scene, okay? But, as he looked around, he was surprised at the lack of people he could actually talk to. The jocks hated him, so did the preps. The nerds also... Hm. Well, no matter if a majority of these idiots couldn't stand him. He's just find his crowed around her somewhere. But his usual crowed where making fools of themselves after one (1) cup of spiked punch. And Iago definitely didn't want to get involved in that.
About to leave for the night, Iago spotted his saving grace in Jafar on the other side of the fire. As he made his way over to who he considered his best friend, Iago noticed Rori was also there. Interesting he thought, slowing his pace to observe. Jafar had been trying to get Rori to do something or other with the student council. Iago tended to tune out Jafar when he got like that, only offering small bits of advice here and there. Back to the task at hand, Iago decided to help a bro out, as a wing man of sorts.
"Hey Jafar!" he called, waving his hand as he walked over. "And hey Rori," Iago added, flashing a smile. The air here seemed tense, and one look at the stain on Jafar's shirt clued him in to what went down. Wow, Jafar must really want her for something, he thought, surprised that Jarar hadn't blown up at her. Deciding to avoid that point, Iago simply asked "How are y'all enjoying the party?"
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Iago Babagha
It was easy to sneak in the booze. It was even easier to slip in into the punch, which surprised Iago. There were teachers here, and they didn't see that? Interesting... As Iago watched his handy work unfold with some people already intoxicated, he refiled his own cup with his second flask. This was the good shit, not that dollar store garbage he put in the punch. With a nice buzz in his system, he pondered what to do next.
See, the thing is, Iago wasn't exactly popular, in the traditionally sense. He knew that, everyone else knew that, let's not make a scene, okay? But, as he looked around, he was surprised at the lack of people he could actually talk to. The jocks hated him, so did the preps. The nerds also... Hm. Well, no matter if a majority of these idiots couldn't stand him. He's just find his crowed around her somewhere. But his usual crowed where making fools of themselves after one (1) cup of spiked punch. And Iago definitely didn't want to get involved in that.
About to leave for the night, Iago spotted his saving grace in Jafar on the other side of the fire. As he made his way over to who he considered his best friend, Iago noticed Rori was also there. Interesting he thought, slowing his pace to observe. Jafar had been trying to get Rori to do something or other with the student council. Iago tended to tune out Jafar when he got like that, only offering small bits of advice here and there. Back to the task at hand, Iago decided to help a bro out, as a wing man of sorts.
"Hey Jafar!" he called, waving his hand as he walked over. "And hey Rori," Iago added, flashing a smile. The air here seemed tense, and one look at the stain on Jafar's shirt clued him in to what went down. Wow, Jafar must really want her for something, he thought, surprised that Jarar hadn't blown up at her. Deciding to avoid that point, Iago simply asked "How are y'all enjoying the party?"
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Bang Bang
what can I say except
The door to the headmaster's office opened to allow a snotty looking kid with blood dripping from his nose to scurry out. When Aladdin was called through, he was greeted by the head of the school muttering to himself. "Classes haven't even started, and these kids can still get themselves into fights. This is why I should have just stayed in the Bahamas." Glancing up from where he was jotting down notes, the headmaster examined Aladdin through his spectacles. He sighed. "Why am I not surprised to see you here so early in the year? Have a seat, Aladdin. We really ought to have gotten one with your name on it by now; surely the cushion must be worn down to fit you perfectly at this point."
The headmaster of the school looked as exhausted as he sounded. Though tan from his holiday abroad, he nonetheless looked pallid, with bags under his eyes and a purplish, gaunt sort of look about the face. This had nothing to do with lack of sleep mind you, for the headmaster always looked this way regardless of the time or day. A man with skinny wrists yet a broad middle, awkward ankles that stuck out in printed socks like a school boy, he did not much resemble the idea one would usually have of a man running one of the most prestigious academic institutions in the country. Of course, everyone knew he wasn't the real power behind the school; the head of the School Board was the real shadow king, so to speak, but the headmaster, Mr. Walt, nonetheless tried his best to mediate the school's unruly rich kids and the poor scholarship students they so loved to harass.
"I've been informed that the student body is currently displaying the unsightly signs of being intoxicated. It did not surprise me one iota to be told that you were the one seen spiking the punch. Really, Aladdin, must we begin the year with such cliches? Even from you, this seems rudimentary. Fortunately for you, Mr. Deja suggested I be lenient, since apparently you may have been pressured into it thanks to the rugby boys. Nonetheless, I cannot allow underage drinking to go unpunished. You shall be spending your evenings for the next week cleaning out the school's storage room and trophy display. Try not to make a mess, won't you?" Exhaling, he waved towards the door. "If you'd be so kind as to save me your usual protests of innocence, you are welcome to excuse yourself. May I advise you ignore any future pressure from your peers? You are perfectly capable of getting yourself in hot water without their influence."
Tags:
CharlieBoy
Notes: Smells like plot spirit
The headmaster of the school looked as exhausted as he sounded. Though tan from his holiday abroad, he nonetheless looked pallid, with bags under his eyes and a purplish, gaunt sort of look about the face. This had nothing to do with lack of sleep mind you, for the headmaster always looked this way regardless of the time or day. A man with skinny wrists yet a broad middle, awkward ankles that stuck out in printed socks like a school boy, he did not much resemble the idea one would usually have of a man running one of the most prestigious academic institutions in the country. Of course, everyone knew he wasn't the real power behind the school; the head of the School Board was the real shadow king, so to speak, but the headmaster, Mr. Walt, nonetheless tried his best to mediate the school's unruly rich kids and the poor scholarship students they so loved to harass.
"I've been informed that the student body is currently displaying the unsightly signs of being intoxicated. It did not surprise me one iota to be told that you were the one seen spiking the punch. Really, Aladdin, must we begin the year with such cliches? Even from you, this seems rudimentary. Fortunately for you, Mr. Deja suggested I be lenient, since apparently you may have been pressured into it thanks to the rugby boys. Nonetheless, I cannot allow underage drinking to go unpunished. You shall be spending your evenings for the next week cleaning out the school's storage room and trophy display. Try not to make a mess, won't you?" Exhaling, he waved towards the door. "If you'd be so kind as to save me your usual protests of innocence, you are welcome to excuse yourself. May I advise you ignore any future pressure from your peers? You are perfectly capable of getting yourself in hot water without their influence."
Tags:
CharlieBoy
Notes: Smells like plot spirit
CharlieBoy
Space Cowboy
Aladdin looked to his left. The. To his right. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He’d only just got here, how the heck is he supposed to have done that. Usually Aladdin would take a telling off on the chin. But there were punishments this time, it wouldn’t be right
“S... sir” Aladdin shifted in his seat, trying to fathom how on earth the principle landed the blame on him. “Sir... I really, truly, honestly didn’t do it. I’ve only been here ten minutes, and I’ve been waiting here for seven of those minutes. I... I don’t know how to prove it to you.... I wouldn’t do that. It makes the dickheads more dickheadish- excuse the French. “
He sighed and leant forward. Looking like he was talking more “man to man”.
“Look, would I do something like that. I know I’m dumb. But I’m not stupid”
Tags:
Bang Bang
“S... sir” Aladdin shifted in his seat, trying to fathom how on earth the principle landed the blame on him. “Sir... I really, truly, honestly didn’t do it. I’ve only been here ten minutes, and I’ve been waiting here for seven of those minutes. I... I don’t know how to prove it to you.... I wouldn’t do that. It makes the dickheads more dickheadish- excuse the French. “
He sighed and leant forward. Looking like he was talking more “man to man”.
“Look, would I do something like that. I know I’m dumb. But I’m not stupid”
Tags:
Bang Bang
Bang Bang
what can I say except
It was obvious even before Mr. Walt said it that in no universe, this or a parallel one, would he change his mind of what had happened. He held up a hand. "I said I did not want to hear it, boy. I will pretend I didn't hear your choice of vocabulary, for your sake; but may I advise you leave before I have to put you on detention for the rest of the term, before said term has even started?" Leaning back, he reached into his desk and plucked out a neon pink iPod, freshly confiscated from a girl at the welcoming ceremony. "Now if you don't mind, I'm going to close my eyes and pretend I'm back on a beach free of you and your co-conspirators. Hop along now." Plugging the earbuds in, he did just that, shutting his eyes and settling back to listen to what sounded awfully like Careless Whisper.
Tag:
CharlieBoy
Tag:
CharlieBoy
CharlieBoy
Space Cowboy
Aladdin wasn’t moving. Stubbornness had gotten a hold of him, he wasn’t standing for injustice. He sat agape for a fair while, watching the doofus of a principle listen to his terrible 80s tracks, hoping he’d look back at the young boy sitting with an unimpressed look on his face.
After a while of being unnoticed however, Aladdin had had enough. Maybe he’d get expelled. Good.
He grabbed the wire of the headphones and gave enough of a yank on it to send the buds out of the principals ears with a rather satisfying POP!.
“I said” Aladdin gritted his teeth, obvious seething “I didn’t. Fucking. Do it”
After a while of being unnoticed however, Aladdin had had enough. Maybe he’d get expelled. Good.
He grabbed the wire of the headphones and gave enough of a yank on it to send the buds out of the principals ears with a rather satisfying POP!.
“I said” Aladdin gritted his teeth, obvious seething “I didn’t. Fucking. Do it”
_SweetCandy_
? Loli-Pop ?
Jasmine sipped her drink angerly making a note to thank whoever spiked it. The whole back to school get together was rather tame compared to the typical parties she attended, but alas her father didn't give her much of an option. She brewed on the argument thinking back to what he said. "You're gonna run the business one day. Which means attending events you don't like. Better get used to it now than be disappointed later." Knowing there wasn't much point in arguing she ended up here, bitter and tipsy. The jocks began to get rowdy and Jasmine took this as her queue to leave. She downed her cup throwing it onto the table, someone will deal with it.
Bang Bang
what can I say except
The pristine shores of the Bahamas suddenly vanished from Mr. Walt's mind's eye as George Michael's soothing dulcet tones were forcibly ripped from his ears. A cheeky bit of booze in some fruit juice, Mr. Walt could forgive if not pardon. Ruining what few comforts he had in this place, he could not.
"Young man. In what realm do you think that your behavior at the given moment is appropriate? Need I remind you that you are permitted to study here at this school on a scholarship which most certainly can be retracted due to misbehavior. I have tolerated your constant delinquency solely due to possessing a certain respect for all scholarship students who manage to work their ways into this school. Ergo, I have been perhaps you one ally here, Aladdin. Thus, I would like to point out how very, very, very stupid it is to antagonize the one member of the faculty who actually cares about whether or not you remain at this institution." He gave Aladdin a cold smile. "At this point, boy, it doesn't matter if you did or didn't do it. Your behavior here gives ample justification to punishment, if not expulsion. If you are not out of this office within the next ten seconds, I will spend this evening submitting the paperwork for your removal from the school. And might I advise you to be extremely careful this year, Aladdin. That is, if you choose to stay. If not, you can go back to where you came from and enjoy the complete lack of a future you will make for yourself if you continue on this way. Ten. Nine. Eight." And he continued his countdown, regardless of Aladdin's input.
Tags:
CharlieBoy
"Young man. In what realm do you think that your behavior at the given moment is appropriate? Need I remind you that you are permitted to study here at this school on a scholarship which most certainly can be retracted due to misbehavior. I have tolerated your constant delinquency solely due to possessing a certain respect for all scholarship students who manage to work their ways into this school. Ergo, I have been perhaps you one ally here, Aladdin. Thus, I would like to point out how very, very, very stupid it is to antagonize the one member of the faculty who actually cares about whether or not you remain at this institution." He gave Aladdin a cold smile. "At this point, boy, it doesn't matter if you did or didn't do it. Your behavior here gives ample justification to punishment, if not expulsion. If you are not out of this office within the next ten seconds, I will spend this evening submitting the paperwork for your removal from the school. And might I advise you to be extremely careful this year, Aladdin. That is, if you choose to stay. If not, you can go back to where you came from and enjoy the complete lack of a future you will make for yourself if you continue on this way. Ten. Nine. Eight." And he continued his countdown, regardless of Aladdin's input.
Tags:
CharlieBoy
CharlieBoy
Space Cowboy
Aladdin sucked the rage through his teeth, his face going blotchy and red. His heart beating at 1000 miles per hour.
“I’ve been to jail, I’ve lived in orphanages in the city, I’ve been beaten, I’ve been scorned. But HERE is the worst place to be”
And with that he flung open the door and stormed out, slamming the plank of wood behind him. He stormed through the corridor, his surroundings blurred. He didn’t want to see anybody.
He sat under a bleacher and just let some tears flow. He wanted to be away from this dump. He didn’t want to be here. Well, that’s what he told himself. Whether it was true was anyone’s guess.
Bang Bang
Anyone
who wants to comfort meh
“I’ve been to jail, I’ve lived in orphanages in the city, I’ve been beaten, I’ve been scorned. But HERE is the worst place to be”
And with that he flung open the door and stormed out, slamming the plank of wood behind him. He stormed through the corridor, his surroundings blurred. He didn’t want to see anybody.
He sat under a bleacher and just let some tears flow. He wanted to be away from this dump. He didn’t want to be here. Well, that’s what he told himself. Whether it was true was anyone’s guess.
Bang Bang
Anyone
who wants to comfort meh
Bang Bang
what can I say except
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[div class=fyuri11wrapper][div class=fyuri11imagebox][div class=fyuri11overlayparent][div class=fyuri11overlay][div class=fyuri11header]Jafar Deja
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Out of character as it was, Jafar hadn't actually spotted Iago that evening. It was too easy to take the guy for granted since he normally just appeared by his side like a nice loyal lapdog; too bad the rest of his personality was the distinct opposite half of the time. It was a little odd, seeing him for the first time after a summer apart, when they spent most of the school year metaphorically joined at the hip.
Okay, so in all honesty, the entire situation with Iago was a little odd. He ought to be the kind of person Jafar hated - he did hate him sometimes, when he was being a particularly annoying prick - and yet he was his primary wingman and co-conspirator. That the pair had ended up friends at all was a minor miracle, but Iago had never found a group to fit in with, and though Jafar would deny it to the end of his days, back when he'd first joined this hellhole, he'd been even more out of place than the school's resident prankster. Their friendship had been a marriage of necessity, because even being a dysfunctional duo was better than being that one weird loner kid. Still, the nutter had grown on him. Maybe. Well, he wasn't completely intolerable, most of the time.
Forgetting himself for a moment, Jafar gave his sort-of-best-friend a half-smile as he approached, before remembering himself and that this was a business meeting, not a time to socialise. "Well, it's certainly informative to play spectator to the after effects of your antics. Though really, in the punch? Is this a teen movie, Iago? I'd expect a little more originality from you." They had to demonstrate they were acceptable company to Rori, but she was a hard one to judge; most people seemed to keep their distance from her, for good reason. She could be more than vaguely terrifying at times, which suited Jafar just perfect— once she was on their side, of course.
"Just trying to convince Miss Lawson to join the Student Council this year. Any selling points I haven't thought of, Iago?" Jafar asked, trying not to sound to obvious in fishing for support. Despite being something of an oddball, Iago was much better at being likable than Jafar ever managed. He had a harmless vibe that put people at ease, allowing Jafar to go in for the kill, so in a way, maybe they did make a good dynamic duo.
[/div][/div][/div][div class=fyuri11credit]code by
Fable
[/div]
Tags:
apolla
Seasplash241
Notes: Sea, see discord for notes RE their broship backstory.
[div class=fyuri11wrapper][div class=fyuri11imagebox][div class=fyuri11overlayparent][div class=fyuri11overlay][div class=fyuri11header]Jafar Deja
Council President
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Okay, so in all honesty, the entire situation with Iago was a little odd. He ought to be the kind of person Jafar hated - he did hate him sometimes, when he was being a particularly annoying prick - and yet he was his primary wingman and co-conspirator. That the pair had ended up friends at all was a minor miracle, but Iago had never found a group to fit in with, and though Jafar would deny it to the end of his days, back when he'd first joined this hellhole, he'd been even more out of place than the school's resident prankster. Their friendship had been a marriage of necessity, because even being a dysfunctional duo was better than being that one weird loner kid. Still, the nutter had grown on him. Maybe. Well, he wasn't completely intolerable, most of the time.
Forgetting himself for a moment, Jafar gave his sort-of-best-friend a half-smile as he approached, before remembering himself and that this was a business meeting, not a time to socialise. "Well, it's certainly informative to play spectator to the after effects of your antics. Though really, in the punch? Is this a teen movie, Iago? I'd expect a little more originality from you." They had to demonstrate they were acceptable company to Rori, but she was a hard one to judge; most people seemed to keep their distance from her, for good reason. She could be more than vaguely terrifying at times, which suited Jafar just perfect— once she was on their side, of course.
"Just trying to convince Miss Lawson to join the Student Council this year. Any selling points I haven't thought of, Iago?" Jafar asked, trying not to sound to obvious in fishing for support. Despite being something of an oddball, Iago was much better at being likable than Jafar ever managed. He had a harmless vibe that put people at ease, allowing Jafar to go in for the kill, so in a way, maybe they did make a good dynamic duo.
[/div][/div][/div][div class=fyuri11credit]code by
Fable
[/div]Tags:
apolla
Seasplash241
Notes: Sea, see discord for notes RE their broship backstory.
Out of character as it was, Jafar hadn't actually spotted Iago that evening. It was too easy to take the guy for granted since he normally just appeared by his side like a nice loyal lapdog; too bad the rest of his personality was the distinct opposite half of the time. It was a little odd, seeing him for the first time after a summer apart, when they spent most of the school year metaphorically joined at the hip.
Okay, so in all honesty, the entire situation with Iago was a little odd. He ought to be the kind of person Jafar hated - he did hate him sometimes, when he was being a particularly annoying prick - and yet he was his primary wingman and co-conspirator. That the pair had ended up friends at all was a minor miracle, but Iago had never found a group to fit in with, and though Jafar would deny it to the end of his days, back when he'd first joined this hellhole, he'd been even more out of place than the school's resident prankster. Their friendship had been a marriage of necessity, because even being a dysfunctional duo was better than being that one weird loner kid. Still, the nutter had grown on him. Maybe. Well, he wasn't completely intolerable, most of the time.
Forgetting himself for a moment, Jafar gave his sort-of-best-friend a half-smile as he approached, before remembering himself and that this was a business meeting, not a time to socialise. "Well, it's certainly informative to play spectator to the after effects of your antics. Though really, in the punch? Is this a teen movie, Iago? I'd expect a little more originality from you." They had to demonstrate they were acceptable company to Rori, but she was a hard one to judge; most people seemed to keep their distance from her, for good reason. She could be more than vaguely terrifying at times, which suited Jafar just perfect— once she was on their side, of course.
"Just trying to convince Miss Lawson to join the Student Council this year. Any selling points I haven't thought of, Iago?" Jafar asked, trying not to sound to obvious in fishing for support. Despite being something of an oddball, Iago was much better at being likable than Jafar ever managed. He had a harmless vibe that put people at ease, allowing Jafar to go in for the kill, so in a way, maybe they did make a good dynamic duo.
Okay, so in all honesty, the entire situation with Iago was a little odd. He ought to be the kind of person Jafar hated - he did hate him sometimes, when he was being a particularly annoying prick - and yet he was his primary wingman and co-conspirator. That the pair had ended up friends at all was a minor miracle, but Iago had never found a group to fit in with, and though Jafar would deny it to the end of his days, back when he'd first joined this hellhole, he'd been even more out of place than the school's resident prankster. Their friendship had been a marriage of necessity, because even being a dysfunctional duo was better than being that one weird loner kid. Still, the nutter had grown on him. Maybe. Well, he wasn't completely intolerable, most of the time.
Forgetting himself for a moment, Jafar gave his sort-of-best-friend a half-smile as he approached, before remembering himself and that this was a business meeting, not a time to socialise. "Well, it's certainly informative to play spectator to the after effects of your antics. Though really, in the punch? Is this a teen movie, Iago? I'd expect a little more originality from you." They had to demonstrate they were acceptable company to Rori, but she was a hard one to judge; most people seemed to keep their distance from her, for good reason. She could be more than vaguely terrifying at times, which suited Jafar just perfect— once she was on their side, of course.
"Just trying to convince Miss Lawson to join the Student Council this year. Any selling points I haven't thought of, Iago?" Jafar asked, trying not to sound to obvious in fishing for support. Despite being something of an oddball, Iago was much better at being likable than Jafar ever managed. He had a harmless vibe that put people at ease, allowing Jafar to go in for the kill, so in a way, maybe they did make a good dynamic duo.
Seasplash241
An on fire garbage can
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Iago BabaghaIago shrugged, flashing Jafar a knowing smirk. "What can I say, they're more agreeable like this. And more fun," he explained, taking a sip from his own cup. He was very careful not to incriminate himself, as he didn't know if he could totally trust Rori, and Iago didn't want to deal with the hassle of getting caught. Especially since Iago's parent's have been on his case a lot more recently. 'It's your senior year Iago, you can't get away with this stuff anymore Iago, what are you going to do when you graduate Iago?' It was getting old. So creating a little mayhem felt like the right thing to do.
Sensing that his best broTM was in need of some help, Iago stepped in. "Ooh the student council. You should totally go for it! Not only is it a great group of people, it also looks super good on a resume," he said, spewing out the response that was expected. Iago new what game Jafar was playing, as this wasn't the first time Iago was called in to humanize a thing. Not that the teen minded, as it was another way to keep himself from punishment. Iago decided to go for the kill with this recruitment, as Jafar looked like he really wanted Rori on the council for whatever reason. "You know, both my parents were on the council when they went here." Iago loved to flaunt his parents influence over his peers, as it was the only way he was superior to them.
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Iago BabaghaIago shrugged, flashing Jafar a knowing smirk. "What can I say, they're more agreeable like this. And more fun," he explained, taking a sip from his own cup. He was very careful not to incriminate himself, as he didn't know if he could totally trust Rori, and Iago didn't want to deal with the hassle of getting caught. Especially since Iago's parent's have been on his case a lot more recently. 'It's your senior year Iago, you can't get away with this stuff anymore Iago, what are you going to do when you graduate Iago?' It was getting old. So creating a little mayhem felt like the right thing to do.
Sensing that his best broTM was in need of some help, Iago stepped in. "Ooh the student council. You should totally go for it! Not only is it a great group of people, it also looks super good on a resume," he said, spewing out the response that was expected. Iago new what game Jafar was playing, as this wasn't the first time Iago was called in to humanize a thing. Not that the teen minded, as it was another way to keep himself from punishment. Iago decided to go for the kill with this recruitment, as Jafar looked like he really wanted Rori on the council for whatever reason. "You know, both my parents were on the council when they went here." Iago loved to flaunt his parents influence over his peers, as it was the only way he was superior to them.
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⠀♡coded by uxie♡
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apolla
❛ it's only love, nobody dies ❜
RORI
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apolla
[/div]
Bang Bang
what can I say except
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[div class=fyuri11wrapper][div class=fyuri11imagebox][div class=fyuri11overlayparent][div class=fyuri11overlay][div class=fyuri11header]Jafar Deja
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Jafar would seriously question how agreeable drunk jocks could possibly be when alcohol only made them more pigheaded and idiotic than ever, but then Iago seemed to delight in that kind of humiliation of others; too bad said morons would never feel a shred of shame in their lives no matter what they did, drunk or sober. Still, at least Iago trundled off the usual spiel for the Council like a good wingman. Jafar had forgotten the other's parents had been Council members, though it didn't surprise him, but rather just confirmed his own beliefs that even if this school was hell on earth, what they did there counted.
"School Council looks a lot better than Cheer on a CV. But, suit yourself. The position is always open if you want to start taking your future seriously." Honest Jafar didn't even mean to be 'savage' in answering, it just came so naturally that he had only to open his mouth and the cool condescension came out. She deserved it for comparing them unfavorably to the damn cheer squad. Always the type to ensure he had the last word, he gave her a curt nod farewell and steered Iago off by the elbow, not looking back. "What a bitch," he murmured under his breath, though he did not mean it entirely as an insult. "Worst part is I bet you she could bring the rugby guys in line." He sighed. "Such wasted potential."
They'd had their icy exit, but now Jafar was stuck loitering by the fire with a stained shirt and a real sense that this night was going to be shit, since everyone would be drunk sooner or later and ergo be even more annoying than usual. Giving Iago a passing look of frustration, he folded his arms over his chest to hide the mark as much as he could, shifting his weight back and forth between his feet in what was clearly discomfort, but damn you and anyone else if you tried to point that out.
Jafar really had not missed being in this dive. Okay, dive that also happened to be one of the top academic institutions in the country etc, etc, etc, which would look amazing on his CV, but it still somehow managed to be a dive in terms of general population. The summer suddenly seemed so far away, having been spent on an apprenticeship in New York, wrangled for him by the head of the School Board herself. He'd only had to spend two days of the entire thing at home, significantly limiting all possibility of being seen with his parents by anyone from school.
It seemed all he could do was make use of the one person he could stand to let witness him looking like a mess, and so pushing the desire to blame someone aside (since he'd passed up taking it out on Rori) he grimaced at Iago. "Do I even want to know what your summer was like? Horrendously decadent, I'd imagine." He tutted, giving Iago the once over just to emphasise his point. "Though your parents still haven't fixed your fashion sense. How you manage to dress like that when you have all the money in the world, I will never know." The following statement was said with great care to avoid sounding like actual concern, "Were they as cold and distant as ever?"
[/div][/div][/div][div class=fyuri11credit]code by
Fable
[/div]
Tags:
apolla
Seasplash241
Notes: Jafar is the king of 'negging' apparently.
[div class=fyuri11wrapper][div class=fyuri11imagebox][div class=fyuri11overlayparent][div class=fyuri11overlay][div class=fyuri11header]Jafar Deja
Council President
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Jafar would seriously question how agreeable drunk jocks could possibly be when alcohol only made them more pigheaded and idiotic than ever, but then Iago seemed to delight in that kind of humiliation of others; too bad said morons would never feel a shred of shame in their lives no matter what they did, drunk or sober. Still, at least Iago trundled off the usual spiel for the Council like a good wingman. Jafar had forgotten the other's parents had been Council members, though it didn't surprise him, but rather just confirmed his own beliefs that even if this school was hell on earth, what they did there counted.
"School Council looks a lot better than Cheer on a CV. But, suit yourself. The position is always open if you want to start taking your future seriously." Honest Jafar didn't even mean to be 'savage' in answering, it just came so naturally that he had only to open his mouth and the cool condescension came out. She deserved it for comparing them unfavorably to the damn cheer squad. Always the type to ensure he had the last word, he gave her a curt nod farewell and steered Iago off by the elbow, not looking back. "What a bitch," he murmured under his breath, though he did not mean it entirely as an insult. "Worst part is I bet you she could bring the rugby guys in line." He sighed. "Such wasted potential."
They'd had their icy exit, but now Jafar was stuck loitering by the fire with a stained shirt and a real sense that this night was going to be shit, since everyone would be drunk sooner or later and ergo be even more annoying than usual. Giving Iago a passing look of frustration, he folded his arms over his chest to hide the mark as much as he could, shifting his weight back and forth between his feet in what was clearly discomfort, but damn you and anyone else if you tried to point that out.
Jafar really had not missed being in this dive. Okay, dive that also happened to be one of the top academic institutions in the country etc, etc, etc, which would look amazing on his CV, but it still somehow managed to be a dive in terms of general population. The summer suddenly seemed so far away, having been spent on an apprenticeship in New York, wrangled for him by the head of the School Board herself. He'd only had to spend two days of the entire thing at home, significantly limiting all possibility of being seen with his parents by anyone from school.
It seemed all he could do was make use of the one person he could stand to let witness him looking like a mess, and so pushing the desire to blame someone aside (since he'd passed up taking it out on Rori) he grimaced at Iago. "Do I even want to know what your summer was like? Horrendously decadent, I'd imagine." He tutted, giving Iago the once over just to emphasise his point. "Though your parents still haven't fixed your fashion sense. How you manage to dress like that when you have all the money in the world, I will never know." The following statement was said with great care to avoid sounding like actual concern, "Were they as cold and distant as ever?"
[/div][/div][/div][div class=fyuri11credit]code by
Fable
[/div]Tags:
apolla
Seasplash241
Notes: Jafar is the king of 'negging' apparently.
Jafar would seriously question how agreeable drunk jocks could possibly be when alcohol only made them more pigheaded and idiotic than ever, but then Iago seemed to delight in that kind of humiliation of others; too bad said morons would never feel a shred of shame in their lives no matter what they did, drunk or sober. Still, at least Iago trundled off the usual spiel for the Council like a good wingman. Jafar had forgotten the other's parents had been Council members, though it didn't surprise him, but rather just confirmed his own beliefs that even if this school was hell on earth, what they did there counted.
"School Council looks a lot better than Cheer on a CV. But, suit yourself. The position is always open if you want to start taking your future seriously." Honest Jafar didn't even mean to be 'savage' in answering, it just came so naturally that he had only to open his mouth and the cool condescension came out. Still, she deserved it for comparing them unfavorably to the damn cheer squad. Always the type to ensure he had the last word, he gave her a curt nod farewell and steered Iago off by the elbow, not looking back. "What a bitch," he murmured under his breath, though he did not mean it entirely as an insult. "Worst part is I bet you she could bring the rugby guys in line." He sighed. "Such wasted potential."
They'd had their icy exit, but now Jafar was stuck loitering by the fire with a stained shirt and a real sense that this night was going to be shit, since everyone would be drunk sooner or later and ergo be even more annoying than usual. Giving Iago a passing look of frustration, he folded his arms over his chest to hide the mark as much as he could, shifting his weight back and forth between his feet in what was clearly discomfort, but damn you and anyone else if you tried to point that out.
Jafar really had not missed being in this dive. Okay, dive that also happened to be one of the top academic institutions in the country etc, etc, etc, which would look amazing on his CV, but it still somehow managed to be a dive in terms of general population. The summer suddenly seemed so far away, having been spent on an apprenticeship in New York, wrangled for him by the head of the School Board herself. He'd only had to spend two days of the entire thing at home, significantly limiting all possibility of being seen with his parents by anyone from school.
It seemed all he could do was make use of the one person he could stand to let witness him looking like a mess, and so pushing the desire to blame someone aside (since he'd passed up taking it out on Rori) he grimaced at Iago. "Do I even want to know what your summer was like? Horrendously decadent, I'd imagine." He tutted, giving Iago the once over just to emphasise his point. "Though your parents still haven't fixed your fashion sense. How you manage to dress like that when you have all the money in the world, I will never know." The following statement was said with great care to avoid sounding like actual concern, "Were they as cold and distant as ever?"
"School Council looks a lot better than Cheer on a CV. But, suit yourself. The position is always open if you want to start taking your future seriously." Honest Jafar didn't even mean to be 'savage' in answering, it just came so naturally that he had only to open his mouth and the cool condescension came out. Still, she deserved it for comparing them unfavorably to the damn cheer squad. Always the type to ensure he had the last word, he gave her a curt nod farewell and steered Iago off by the elbow, not looking back. "What a bitch," he murmured under his breath, though he did not mean it entirely as an insult. "Worst part is I bet you she could bring the rugby guys in line." He sighed. "Such wasted potential."
They'd had their icy exit, but now Jafar was stuck loitering by the fire with a stained shirt and a real sense that this night was going to be shit, since everyone would be drunk sooner or later and ergo be even more annoying than usual. Giving Iago a passing look of frustration, he folded his arms over his chest to hide the mark as much as he could, shifting his weight back and forth between his feet in what was clearly discomfort, but damn you and anyone else if you tried to point that out.
Jafar really had not missed being in this dive. Okay, dive that also happened to be one of the top academic institutions in the country etc, etc, etc, which would look amazing on his CV, but it still somehow managed to be a dive in terms of general population. The summer suddenly seemed so far away, having been spent on an apprenticeship in New York, wrangled for him by the head of the School Board herself. He'd only had to spend two days of the entire thing at home, significantly limiting all possibility of being seen with his parents by anyone from school.
It seemed all he could do was make use of the one person he could stand to let witness him looking like a mess, and so pushing the desire to blame someone aside (since he'd passed up taking it out on Rori) he grimaced at Iago. "Do I even want to know what your summer was like? Horrendously decadent, I'd imagine." He tutted, giving Iago the once over just to emphasise his point. "Though your parents still haven't fixed your fashion sense. How you manage to dress like that when you have all the money in the world, I will never know." The following statement was said with great care to avoid sounding like actual concern, "Were they as cold and distant as ever?"
Last edited:
Seasplash241
An on fire garbage can
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Iago BabaghaGiving Rori a smile and a small wave as he was pulled away, Iago realized that that could have gone better, yes, but it could have been way way worse. Jafar must have really really wanted her on the council. Iago could see why, of course. She was pretty intimidating, but in a way totally different that Jafar. While Iago did what he could for the council, mainly funding and keeping the stoners in check, it seemed they were slowly loosing control on some of the other groups. So, someone like Rori would be invaluable as a member.
"Oh, bringing out the big words, hu?" Iago teased, knowing that he wasn't really insulting Rori. That's just how Jafar was. He felt another teasing jab die on his tongue as Iago took in Jafar's appearance. He looked so....small, so different than how he sees his best friend most of the time. Before he could offer some form of comfort, Jafar was speaking again.
"My summer? Eh, it was alright. My folks were gone for most of it, so I went to our place in the Philippines. Met the man of my dreams! Well, he didn't have a personality, but boy was he hot," Iago began, cold chuckle leaving his lips. "It didn't last, obviously, but it was fun,". His usual smile seemed colder, remembering those months. It was...nice, to say the least. Feeling something, even for a few moments, was wonderful. But it ended bitterly, with the guy betting back together with his ex girlfriends and pulling the whole 'I'm straight as can be' act. Jafar's next comment drew him back to the conversation, and Iago was glad. Even if it was a jab about his appearance.
Looking down at his jeans and band tee shirt, the boy couldn't find anything truly wrong with his look. "What's wrong with it? Just because I don't wear a suit everywhere I go doesn't mean I don't care about what I look like," he defended halfheartedly. This wasn't the first time Jafar had criticized his appearance. But it was the first time he had mentioned Iago's folks like that.
"Oh them? Eh, it's hard to say. They seemed to actually give a shit about me, but we'll see how long that lasts," Iago explained, trying and failing to hide the bitterness in his tone. He never meant to explain his situation to Jafar. But one night last year saw Iago drunk and high with Jafar and him spilling his guts. It was.., embarrassing to say the least. Iago was actually surprised that Jafar stayed his friend after such a gross display of vulnerability.
"Hey, I have a school hoodie in my car, do you want it?" Iago offered, knowing how much Jafar hated looking anything like the peak of pristine. Deciding that Jafar would most likely refuse, he handed his cup to his friend and made off towards his car. "I'll go grab it. Feel free to take a sip to loosen up," Iago called behind him with a wink, jogging to his car. Grabbing said hoodie from his back seat and checking to make sure it was clean, he ran back to Jafar, trading the hoodie for the cup. "It might be a bit big but it should do the job" Iago said with a smile.
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Iago BabaghaGiving Rori a smile and a small wave as he was pulled away, Iago realized that that could have gone better, yes, but it could have been way way worse. Jafar must have really really wanted her on the council. Iago could see why, of course. She was pretty intimidating, but in a way totally different that Jafar. While Iago did what he could for the council, mainly funding and keeping the stoners in check, it seemed they were slowly loosing control on some of the other groups. So, someone like Rori would be invaluable as a member.
"Oh, bringing out the big words, hu?" Iago teased, knowing that he wasn't really insulting Rori. That's just how Jafar was. He felt another teasing jab die on his tongue as Iago took in Jafar's appearance. He looked so....small, so different than how he sees his best friend most of the time. Before he could offer some form of comfort, Jafar was speaking again.
"My summer? Eh, it was alright. My folks were gone for most of it, so I went to our place in the Philippines. Met the man of my dreams! Well, he didn't have a personality, but boy was he hot," Iago began, cold chuckle leaving his lips. "It didn't last, obviously, but it was fun,". His usual smile seemed colder, remembering those months. It was...nice, to say the least. Feeling something, even for a few moments, was wonderful. But it ended bitterly, with the guy betting back together with his ex girlfriends and pulling the whole 'I'm straight as can be' act. Jafar's next comment drew him back to the conversation, and Iago was glad. Even if it was a jab about his appearance.
Looking down at his jeans and band tee shirt, the boy couldn't find anything truly wrong with his look. "What's wrong with it? Just because I don't wear a suit everywhere I go doesn't mean I don't care about what I look like," he defended halfheartedly. This wasn't the first time Jafar had criticized his appearance. But it was the first time he had mentioned Iago's folks like that.
"Oh them? Eh, it's hard to say. They seemed to actually give a shit about me, but we'll see how long that lasts," Iago explained, trying and failing to hide the bitterness in his tone. He never meant to explain his situation to Jafar. But one night last year saw Iago drunk and high with Jafar and him spilling his guts. It was.., embarrassing to say the least. Iago was actually surprised that Jafar stayed his friend after such a gross display of vulnerability.
"Hey, I have a school hoodie in my car, do you want it?" Iago offered, knowing how much Jafar hated looking anything like the peak of pristine. Deciding that Jafar would most likely refuse, he handed his cup to his friend and made off towards his car. "I'll go grab it. Feel free to take a sip to loosen up," Iago called behind him with a wink, jogging to his car. Grabbing said hoodie from his back seat and checking to make sure it was clean, he ran back to Jafar, trading the hoodie for the cup. "It might be a bit big but it should do the job" Iago said with a smile.
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⠀♡coded by uxie♡
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Bang Bang
what can I say except
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[div class=fyuri11wrapper][div class=fyuri11imagebox][div class=fyuri11overlayparent][div class=fyuri11overlay][div class=fyuri11header]Jafar Deja
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Jafar could not help making a face at the tales of a 'man' in the Philippines. You'd think he'd be used to hearing about Iago's escapades with the same sex by now, but nope, apparently every time it came up he'd still have the same visceral reaction of urgh. Jafar wasn't quite so much of a closet case to particularly think homosexuality a sin or anything as melodramatic like that, it just jarred so vividly with him that Iago could drop it into casual conversation with such ease. Fat chance he could get away with that. He knew how these things worked; if he so much as breathed a little too 'gay', it'd be in the press twenty years later right as he was about to hit the height of his power, some loose piece of evidence he'd failed to nip in the bud having wormed its way out into enemy hands. Fucking modern media and the incessant ability to dig. It seemed it was easier to be gay in all fields but the ones where the durability of proof suddenly made it even harder than when it had been illegal.
Iago obviously didn't care about that, and worse, he didn't need to. Sure the really 'gay' kids still got bullied to hell and back, the effete types whose sexuality was irrelevant and half were probably straight, they just acted sensitive and thus they were fucked the second they set foot in a school with teenagers. Iago managed to play the whole pansexual thing to his advantage, and since his whole parental situation had made him surprisingly resilient to shitbag behavior (see Figure. A, his ability to tolerate Jafar long-term, for reference) he was tricky to bully in a way that the school psychopaths got off on.
In short, Jafar was jealous. New York had been littered with 'boy was he hot' level guys, but by avoiding the devil's sauce and spending nights studying instead of allowing the others from sneaking him into bars and clubs, he'd successfully avoided exposing himself. "You are such a typical horny teenager," Jafar told Iago in deadpan, scowling at him. Disgust was a nice cover for jealousy, which was really not his style. He was mostly too busy brooding to notice how hollow Iago's expression was; even when he did notice it, he ignored it. He was far too sober to start asking anybody, even Iago, about their feelings. Urgh. "It's a good thing it's over. You mooning over some elusive foreigner the whole year would do my head in. Plus, you'd be even less focused than usual. You do realise this is our final year?" He couldn't help grinning with a hopeful sigh at that. "One more year and you can chase your men across the globe, and we can both be out of this fucking shithole."
It was a romantic sort of daydream, one rudely interrupted by Iago being a complete moron. There were no words sufficient for expressing his exasperated despair, so he settled instead for a noise that accurately conveyed the sentiment. "So you're warned in advance, I'm choosing your prom suit for you. I am not being seen on my grand exit from hell with someone who's still stuck in their indie phase." This sounded like a proposition. It kind of was, though Jafar didn't think it anything new or gay (no homo). Way he saw things, Iago had no one else to go with, and if Jafar was going to do the whole beard thing, it would be with Rori, and she continued to hate him so, Iago it was. It would be as friends, naturally.
Dragged back from planning said Grand Exit, Jafar was, for once, unsure of what face to make. Iago was a pretty good actor, Jafar just wished he was better. He'd kind of guessed something was up even before Iago's big bender, which was a cry for help if ever Jafar had seen one. Witnessing it had been so unexpectedly horrific that Jafar had decided to go against policy, and had made the commitment to sort of, ish, kind of, try to 'be there' for his VP. He could justify it as if Iago went and did something stupid like overdose or... things, things not worth thinking about, then Jafar would be out of a co-conspirator and he'd have to put up with bloody Karen as VP.
Even caring wasn't as monstrous a concept as spending prolonged periods of time with Karen.
"Took them long enough," he said frostily. Affecting a shrug as much as was possible without unfolding his arms, he grimaced. This friendship thing was such a drag. Politics? Easy. Verbally destroying people? A favored past time. Actually trying to be reassuring? Heaven forbid. "Honestly though, fuck them if they go all 'too important for thou' again. You can come to New York or wherever takes me, and pay for my boarding and clothes. Maybe they'll start being less idiotic once we successfully bankrupt them." If anyone could do it, it was Jafar. Expensive taste did not even begin to cover it. Clearly, he had just been born to the wrong parents, just like a needy whiny dingus like Iago really ought to have ended up with parents who could provide for all... that.
Iago, on the other hand, clearly needed to work on his concept of friendship. Like Jafar would be caught dead in one of his weed-stinking hoodies. Or so he thought with deep-rooted bitterness as he shivered, damp clothes clinging to him. Warming up by the fire wasn't an option now that the damn Cheer squad was doing some kind of routine, if the gyrating body movements could be called thus. "Fine," Jafar hissed through gritted teeth, glowering as he was left clinging to a flask and trying to work out how to look cool and effortless, all whilst making it clear no one should dare approach him. Normally that came naturally. Fucking Rori Lawson.
Against his better judgement, he took a swig from the flask. Jafar did not typically drink, having only ever done so three times previously, and always outside of school (unless you counted that one time when Iago accidentally mixed their drinks up, and he'd spent the night utterly doolally on the other's bedroom floor singing show-tunes, but both had agreed - under threat of murder from one of them, -that the event had never occurred and did not exist in any universe). It was thus unsurprising that he underestimated just what was inside the flask, assuming that anything so fruity had to be pretty tame.
He was feeling much warmer when Iago got back. "Oh my god, it's actually clean," he drawled in exaggerated disdain, making a big show of how much he did not want to put the hoodie on as he did just that. Urgh, warmth. And, even more importantly, he no longer looked like a complete mong with a fucking brown splodge down his front. "There," he announced, returning the empty cup with a look of solemn duty. "I have protected you from yourself. You're a terrible drunk. Not even any singing. It's an outrage." Pulling the hood up - very against standard policy - he tugged the drawstrings so it shut over his eyes, murmuring, "Warm."
'Kinky Pink', though its name was unknown to Jafar, had sadly taken him past the point where self-awareness could kick in as he got steadily drunker and thus he might stand a chance of taking himself out of the public situation. Instead, he wasn't sure if it was placebo or his liver being a majestic speedy Gonzales, but he felt very... well, loosened up would not be inaccurate. Thankfully for him and the fact that he wouldn't want to be witnessed drunk, stone cold logic had been the only thing keeping him at the party given how he generally just despised people as a collective. Thus, as he wiggled his face out from the tightened hoodie rim, he gave Iago an actual, real live pout, and then turned about very officially. "Right, I'm done with this party. It's lame. I'm going to the cool kids corner. Which shall be... in this direction." Choosing a random direction away from the fire, he started marching off towards the sports field. Lucky for his pride, his motor functions were still in tact since it was mostly placebo by this point.
[/div][/div][/div][div class=fyuri11credit]code by
Fable
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Tags:
Seasplash241
Notes: /who gave the lightweight vodka/?
[div class=fyuri11wrapper][div class=fyuri11imagebox][div class=fyuri11overlayparent][div class=fyuri11overlay][div class=fyuri11header]Jafar Deja
Council President
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Jafar could not help making a face at the tales of a 'man' in the Philippines. You'd think he'd be used to hearing about Iago's escapades with the same sex by now, but nope, apparently every time it came up he'd still have the same visceral reaction of urgh. Jafar wasn't quite so much of a closet case to particularly think homosexuality a sin or anything as melodramatic like that, it just jarred so vividly with him that Iago could drop it into casual conversation with such ease. Fat chance he could get away with that. He knew how these things worked; if he so much as breathed a little too 'gay', it'd be in the press twenty years later right as he was about to hit the height of his power, some loose piece of evidence he'd failed to nip in the bud having wormed its way out into enemy hands. Fucking modern media and the incessant ability to dig. It seemed it was easier to be gay in all fields but the ones where the durability of proof suddenly made it even harder than when it had been illegal.
Iago obviously didn't care about that, and worse, he didn't need to. Sure the really 'gay' kids still got bullied to hell and back, the effete types whose sexuality was irrelevant and half were probably straight, they just acted sensitive and thus they were fucked the second they set foot in a school with teenagers. Iago managed to play the whole pansexual thing to his advantage, and since his whole parental situation had made him surprisingly resilient to shitbag behavior (see Figure. A, his ability to tolerate Jafar long-term, for reference) he was tricky to bully in a way that the school psychopaths got off on.
In short, Jafar was jealous. New York had been littered with 'boy was he hot' level guys, but by avoiding the devil's sauce and spending nights studying instead of allowing the others from sneaking him into bars and clubs, he'd successfully avoided exposing himself. "You are such a typical horny teenager," Jafar told Iago in deadpan, scowling at him. Disgust was a nice cover for jealousy, which was really not his style. He was mostly too busy brooding to notice how hollow Iago's expression was; even when he did notice it, he ignored it. He was far too sober to start asking anybody, even Iago, about their feelings. Urgh. "It's a good thing it's over. You mooning over some elusive foreigner the whole year would do my head in. Plus, you'd be even less focused than usual. You do realise this is our final year?" He couldn't help grinning with a hopeful sigh at that. "One more year and you can chase your men across the globe, and we can both be out of this fucking shithole."
It was a romantic sort of daydream, one rudely interrupted by Iago being a complete moron. There were no words sufficient for expressing his exasperated despair, so he settled instead for a noise that accurately conveyed the sentiment. "So you're warned in advance, I'm choosing your prom suit for you. I am not being seen on my grand exit from hell with someone who's still stuck in their indie phase." This sounded like a proposition. It kind of was, though Jafar didn't think it anything new or gay (no homo). Way he saw things, Iago had no one else to go with, and if Jafar was going to do the whole beard thing, it would be with Rori, and she continued to hate him so, Iago it was. It would be as friends, naturally.
Dragged back from planning said Grand Exit, Jafar was, for once, unsure of what face to make. Iago was a pretty good actor, Jafar just wished he was better. He'd kind of guessed something was up even before Iago's big bender, which was a cry for help if ever Jafar had seen one. Witnessing it had been so unexpectedly horrific that Jafar had decided to go against policy, and had made the commitment to sort of, ish, kind of, try to 'be there' for his VP. He could justify it as if Iago went and did something stupid like overdose or... things, things not worth thinking about, then Jafar would be out of a co-conspirator and he'd have to put up with bloody Karen as VP.
Even caring wasn't as monstrous a concept as spending prolonged periods of time with Karen.
"Took them long enough," he said frostily. Affecting a shrug as much as was possible without unfolding his arms, he grimaced. This friendship thing was such a drag. Politics? Easy. Verbally destroying people? A favored past time. Actually trying to be reassuring? Heaven forbid. "Honestly though, fuck them if they go all 'too important for thou' again. You can come to New York or wherever takes me, and pay for my boarding and clothes. Maybe they'll start being less idiotic once we successfully bankrupt them." If anyone could do it, it was Jafar. Expensive taste did not even begin to cover it. Clearly, he had just been born to the wrong parents, just like a needy whiny dingus like Iago really ought to have ended up with parents who could provide for all... that.
Iago, on the other hand, clearly needed to work on his concept of friendship. Like Jafar would be caught dead in one of his weed-stinking hoodies. Or so he thought with deep-rooted bitterness as he shivered, damp clothes clinging to him. Warming up by the fire wasn't an option now that the damn Cheer squad was doing some kind of routine, if the gyrating body movements could be called thus. "Fine," Jafar hissed through gritted teeth, glowering as he was left clinging to a flask and trying to work out how to look cool and effortless, all whilst making it clear no one should dare approach him. Normally that came naturally. Fucking Rori Lawson.
Against his better judgement, he took a swig from the flask. Jafar did not typically drink, having only ever done so three times previously, and always outside of school (unless you counted that one time when Iago accidentally mixed their drinks up, and he'd spent the night utterly doolally on the other's bedroom floor singing show-tunes, but both had agreed - under threat of murder from one of them, -that the event had never occurred and did not exist in any universe). It was thus unsurprising that he underestimated just what was inside the flask, assuming that anything so fruity had to be pretty tame.
He was feeling much warmer when Iago got back. "Oh my god, it's actually clean," he drawled in exaggerated disdain, making a big show of how much he did not want to put the hoodie on as he did just that. Urgh, warmth. And, even more importantly, he no longer looked like a complete mong with a fucking brown splodge down his front. "There," he announced, returning the empty cup with a look of solemn duty. "I have protected you from yourself. You're a terrible drunk. Not even any singing. It's an outrage." Pulling the hood up - very against standard policy - he tugged the drawstrings so it shut over his eyes, murmuring, "Warm."
'Kinky Pink', though its name was unknown to Jafar, had sadly taken him past the point where self-awareness could kick in as he got steadily drunker and thus he might stand a chance of taking himself out of the public situation. Instead, he wasn't sure if it was placebo or his liver being a majestic speedy Gonzales, but he felt very... well, loosened up would not be inaccurate. Thankfully for him and the fact that he wouldn't want to be witnessed drunk, stone cold logic had been the only thing keeping him at the party given how he generally just despised people as a collective. Thus, as he wiggled his face out from the tightened hoodie rim, he gave Iago an actual, real live pout, and then turned about very officially. "Right, I'm done with this party. It's lame. I'm going to the cool kids corner. Which shall be... in this direction." Choosing a random direction away from the fire, he started marching off towards the sports field. Lucky for his pride, his motor functions were still in tact since it was mostly placebo by this point.
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Fable
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Seasplash241
Notes: /who gave the lightweight vodka/?
Jafar could not help making a face at the tales of a 'man' in the Philippines. You'd think he'd be used to hearing about Iago's escapades with the same sex by now, but nope, apparently every time it came up he'd still have the same visceral reaction of urgh. Jafar wasn't quite so much of a closet case to particularly think homosexuality a sin or anything as melodramatic like that, it just jarred so vividly with him that Iago could drop it into casual conversation with such ease. Fat chance he could get away with that. He knew how these things worked; if he so much as breathed a little too 'gay', it'd be in the press twenty years later right as he was about to hit the height of his power, some loose piece of evidence he'd failed to nip in the bud having wormed its way out into enemy hands. Fucking modern media and the incessant ability to dig. It seemed it was easier to be gay in all fields but the ones where the durability of proof suddenly made it even harder than when it had been illegal.
Iago obviously didn't care about that, and worse, he didn't need to. Sure the really gay kids still got bullied to hell and back, the effete types whose sexuality were irrelevant, they just acted sensitive and thus they were fucked the second they set foot in a school with teenagers. Iago managed to play the whole pansexual thing to his advantage, and since his whole parental situation had made him surprisingly resilient to shitbag behavior (see Figure. A, his ability to tolerate Jafar long-term, for reference) he was tricky to bully in a way that the school psychopaths got off on.
In short, Jafar was jealous. New York had been littered with 'boy was he hot' level guys, but by avoiding the devil's sauce and spending nights studying instead of allowing the others from sneaking him into bars and clubs, he'd successfully avoided exposing himself. "You are such a typical horny teenager," Jafar told Iago in deadpan, scowling at him. Disgust was a nice cover for jealousy, which was really not his style. He was mostly too busy brooding to notice how hollow Iago's expression was; even when he did notice it, he ignored it. He was far too sober to start asking anybody, even Iago, about their feelings. Urgh. "It's a good thing it's over. You mooning over some elusive foreigner the whole year would do my head in. Plus, you'd be even less focused than usual. You do realise this is our final year?" He couldn't help grinning with a hopeful sigh at that. "One more year and you can chase your men across the globe, and we can both be out of this fucking shithole."
It was a romantic sort of daydream, one rudely interrupted by Iago being a complete moron. There were no words sufficient for expression is exasperated despair, so he settled instead for a noise that accurately conveyed the sentiment. "So you're warned in advance, I'm choosing your prom suit for you. I am not being seen on my grand exit from hell with someone who's still stuck in their indie phase." This sounded like a proposition. It kind of was, though Jafar didn't think it anything new or gay (no homo). Way he saw things, Iago had no one else to go with, and if Jafar was going to do the whole beard thing, it would be with Rori, and she continued to hate him so, Iago it was. It would be as friends, naturally.
Dragged back from planning said Grand Exit, Jafar was, for once, unsure of what face to make. Iago was a pretty good actor, Jafar just wished he was better. He'd kind of guessed something was up even before Iago's big bender, which was a cry for help if ever Jafar had seen one. Witnessing it had been so unexpectedly horrific that Jafar had decided to go against policy, and had made the commitment to sort of, ish, kind of, try to 'be there' for his VP. He could justify it as if Iago went and did something stupid like overdose or... things, things not worth thinking about, then Jafar would be out of a co-conspirator and he'd have to put up with bloody Karen as VP.
Even caring wasn't as monstrous a concept as spending prolonged periods of time with Karen.
"Took them long enough," he said frostily. Affecting a shrug as much as was possible without unfolding his arms, he grimaced. This friendship thing was such a drag. Politics? Easy. Verbally destroying people? A favored past time. Actually trying to be reassuring? Heaven forbid. "Honestly though, fuck them if they go all 'too important for thou' again. You can come to New York or wherever takes me, and pay for my boarding and clothes. Maybe they'll start being less idiotic once we successfully bankrupt them." If anyone could do it, it was Jafar. Expensive taste did not even begin to cover it. Clearly, he had just been born to the wrong parents, just like a needy whiny dingus like Iago really ought to have ended up with parents who could provide for all... that.
Iago, on the other hand, clearly needed to work on his concept of friendship. Like Jafar would be caught dead in one of his weed-stinking hoodies. Or so he thought with deep-rooted bitterness as he shivered, damp clothes clinging to him. Warming up by the fire wasn't an option now that the damn Cheer squad was doing some kind of routine, if the gyrating body movements could be called thus. "Fine," Jafar hissed through gritted teeth, glowering as he was left clinging to a flask and trying to work out how to look cool and effortless, all whilst making it clear no one should dare approach him. Normally that came naturally. Fucking Rori Lawson.
Against his better judgement, he took a swig from the flask. Jafar did not typically drink, having only ever done so three times previously, and always outside of school (unless you counted that one time when Iago accidentally mixed their drinks up, and he'd spent the night utterly doolally on the other's bedroom floor singing show-tunes, but both had agreed - under threat of murder from one of them, -that the event had never occurred and did not exist in any universe). It was thus unsurprising that he underestimated just what was inside the flask, assuming that anything so fruity had to be pretty tame.
He was feeling much warmer when Iago got back. "Oh my god, it's actually clean," he drawled in exaggerated disdain, making a big show of how much he did not want to put the hoodie on as he did just that. Urgh, warmth. And, even more importantly, he no longer looked like a complete mong with a fucking brown splodge down his front. "There," he announced, returning the empty cup with a look of solemn duty. "I have protected you from yourself. You're a terrible drunk. Not even any singing. It's an outrage." Pulling the hood up - very against standard policy - he tugged the drawstrings so it shut over his eyes, murmuring, "Warm."
'Kinky Pink', though its name was unknown to Jafar, had sadly taken him past the point where self-awareness could kick in as he got steadily drunker and thus he might stand a chance of taking himself out of the public situation. Instead, he wasn't sure if it was placebo or his liver being a majestic speedy Gonzales, but he felt very... well, loosened up would not be inaccurate. Thankfully for him and the fact that he wouldn't want to be witnessed drunk, stone cold logic had been the only thing keeping him at the party given how he generally just despised people as a collective. Thus, as he wiggled his face out from the tightened hoodie rim, he gave Iago an actual, real live pout, and then turned about very officially. "Right, I'm done with this party. It's lame. I'm going to the cool kids corner. Which shall be... in this direction." Choosing a random direction away from the fire, he started marching off towards the sports field. Lucky for his pride, his motor functions were still in tact since it was mostly placebo by this point.
Iago obviously didn't care about that, and worse, he didn't need to. Sure the really gay kids still got bullied to hell and back, the effete types whose sexuality were irrelevant, they just acted sensitive and thus they were fucked the second they set foot in a school with teenagers. Iago managed to play the whole pansexual thing to his advantage, and since his whole parental situation had made him surprisingly resilient to shitbag behavior (see Figure. A, his ability to tolerate Jafar long-term, for reference) he was tricky to bully in a way that the school psychopaths got off on.
In short, Jafar was jealous. New York had been littered with 'boy was he hot' level guys, but by avoiding the devil's sauce and spending nights studying instead of allowing the others from sneaking him into bars and clubs, he'd successfully avoided exposing himself. "You are such a typical horny teenager," Jafar told Iago in deadpan, scowling at him. Disgust was a nice cover for jealousy, which was really not his style. He was mostly too busy brooding to notice how hollow Iago's expression was; even when he did notice it, he ignored it. He was far too sober to start asking anybody, even Iago, about their feelings. Urgh. "It's a good thing it's over. You mooning over some elusive foreigner the whole year would do my head in. Plus, you'd be even less focused than usual. You do realise this is our final year?" He couldn't help grinning with a hopeful sigh at that. "One more year and you can chase your men across the globe, and we can both be out of this fucking shithole."
It was a romantic sort of daydream, one rudely interrupted by Iago being a complete moron. There were no words sufficient for expression is exasperated despair, so he settled instead for a noise that accurately conveyed the sentiment. "So you're warned in advance, I'm choosing your prom suit for you. I am not being seen on my grand exit from hell with someone who's still stuck in their indie phase." This sounded like a proposition. It kind of was, though Jafar didn't think it anything new or gay (no homo). Way he saw things, Iago had no one else to go with, and if Jafar was going to do the whole beard thing, it would be with Rori, and she continued to hate him so, Iago it was. It would be as friends, naturally.
Dragged back from planning said Grand Exit, Jafar was, for once, unsure of what face to make. Iago was a pretty good actor, Jafar just wished he was better. He'd kind of guessed something was up even before Iago's big bender, which was a cry for help if ever Jafar had seen one. Witnessing it had been so unexpectedly horrific that Jafar had decided to go against policy, and had made the commitment to sort of, ish, kind of, try to 'be there' for his VP. He could justify it as if Iago went and did something stupid like overdose or... things, things not worth thinking about, then Jafar would be out of a co-conspirator and he'd have to put up with bloody Karen as VP.
Even caring wasn't as monstrous a concept as spending prolonged periods of time with Karen.
"Took them long enough," he said frostily. Affecting a shrug as much as was possible without unfolding his arms, he grimaced. This friendship thing was such a drag. Politics? Easy. Verbally destroying people? A favored past time. Actually trying to be reassuring? Heaven forbid. "Honestly though, fuck them if they go all 'too important for thou' again. You can come to New York or wherever takes me, and pay for my boarding and clothes. Maybe they'll start being less idiotic once we successfully bankrupt them." If anyone could do it, it was Jafar. Expensive taste did not even begin to cover it. Clearly, he had just been born to the wrong parents, just like a needy whiny dingus like Iago really ought to have ended up with parents who could provide for all... that.
Iago, on the other hand, clearly needed to work on his concept of friendship. Like Jafar would be caught dead in one of his weed-stinking hoodies. Or so he thought with deep-rooted bitterness as he shivered, damp clothes clinging to him. Warming up by the fire wasn't an option now that the damn Cheer squad was doing some kind of routine, if the gyrating body movements could be called thus. "Fine," Jafar hissed through gritted teeth, glowering as he was left clinging to a flask and trying to work out how to look cool and effortless, all whilst making it clear no one should dare approach him. Normally that came naturally. Fucking Rori Lawson.
Against his better judgement, he took a swig from the flask. Jafar did not typically drink, having only ever done so three times previously, and always outside of school (unless you counted that one time when Iago accidentally mixed their drinks up, and he'd spent the night utterly doolally on the other's bedroom floor singing show-tunes, but both had agreed - under threat of murder from one of them, -that the event had never occurred and did not exist in any universe). It was thus unsurprising that he underestimated just what was inside the flask, assuming that anything so fruity had to be pretty tame.
He was feeling much warmer when Iago got back. "Oh my god, it's actually clean," he drawled in exaggerated disdain, making a big show of how much he did not want to put the hoodie on as he did just that. Urgh, warmth. And, even more importantly, he no longer looked like a complete mong with a fucking brown splodge down his front. "There," he announced, returning the empty cup with a look of solemn duty. "I have protected you from yourself. You're a terrible drunk. Not even any singing. It's an outrage." Pulling the hood up - very against standard policy - he tugged the drawstrings so it shut over his eyes, murmuring, "Warm."
'Kinky Pink', though its name was unknown to Jafar, had sadly taken him past the point where self-awareness could kick in as he got steadily drunker and thus he might stand a chance of taking himself out of the public situation. Instead, he wasn't sure if it was placebo or his liver being a majestic speedy Gonzales, but he felt very... well, loosened up would not be inaccurate. Thankfully for him and the fact that he wouldn't want to be witnessed drunk, stone cold logic had been the only thing keeping him at the party given how he generally just despised people as a collective. Thus, as he wiggled his face out from the tightened hoodie rim, he gave Iago an actual, real live pout, and then turned about very officially. "Right, I'm done with this party. It's lame. I'm going to the cool kids corner. Which shall be... in this direction." Choosing a random direction away from the fire, he started marching off towards the sports field. Lucky for his pride, his motor functions were still in tact since it was mostly placebo by this point.
Last edited:
Seasplash241
An on fire garbage can
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Iago BabaghaThe things that Jafar said had been nice, which would have surprised anyone listening in on the conversation. The truth his, underneath all that hard exterior, Jafar actually seemed to care. He would deny it, maybe he didnt even think he did. But Iago had a way of reading through the layers and walls Jafar had put up with. That alone make a genuine smile spread across the students features. While the urge to say some sort of sentimental crap rose to the surface, Iago shoved it down, not wanting to ruin the moments.
”I’ll have you know I have a very crisp tuxedo shirt picked out for the occasion, paired very nicely with my nice vans,” he teased, faking insult. In all honesty Iago has a nice tux that his parents made him get for some occasion last year, but it was fun to push Jafar’s buttons in a way only he could get away with. Though, Jafar had a lot to learn about human interaction, as it sounded like he was asking Iago as a date. Which would be ludicrous. Pushing that train of thought away would be great right about now.
His out came with Jafar’s plan for the future. While Iago knew his friend would end up somewhere big, this was the first he heard of coming along. That dream was nice, as Iago hadn’t no idea what he was doing once they graduated. But if he sticked with Jafar, he wouldn’t have to worry about that. ”I’d buy you the biggest pent house there was, looking over Central Park or the port. Something you deserve” Iago declared, before panicking ever so slightly. That sounded really gay. He hoped Jafar didn’t notice. But he seemed too wrapped up in warmth to really pay attention.
When Iago left his cup with Jafar, he didn’t really expect him to drink it. Especially not to drink all of it. So this was a pleasant surprise. While Iago, partier that he was, had a pretty highly tolerance, Jafar had little to none. This was gonna be a fun night. Jafar drunk was always amusing, seeing him out of his shell like thise, even if it was for just a few hours. He didn’t even mind having to watch him like a babysitter.
He trailed after Jafar as he headed towards the field, giggling ever so slightly. Jafar and Iago were not, by any stretch, ‘cool kids’. But Iago would let his friend have this moment. ”Oh? And what do these ‘cool kids do?’ he asked, taking his spot next to Jafar.
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Iago BabaghaThe things that Jafar said had been nice, which would have surprised anyone listening in on the conversation. The truth his, underneath all that hard exterior, Jafar actually seemed to care. He would deny it, maybe he didnt even think he did. But Iago had a way of reading through the layers and walls Jafar had put up with. That alone make a genuine smile spread across the students features. While the urge to say some sort of sentimental crap rose to the surface, Iago shoved it down, not wanting to ruin the moments.
”I’ll have you know I have a very crisp tuxedo shirt picked out for the occasion, paired very nicely with my nice vans,” he teased, faking insult. In all honesty Iago has a nice tux that his parents made him get for some occasion last year, but it was fun to push Jafar’s buttons in a way only he could get away with. Though, Jafar had a lot to learn about human interaction, as it sounded like he was asking Iago as a date. Which would be ludicrous. Pushing that train of thought away would be great right about now.
His out came with Jafar’s plan for the future. While Iago knew his friend would end up somewhere big, this was the first he heard of coming along. That dream was nice, as Iago hadn’t no idea what he was doing once they graduated. But if he sticked with Jafar, he wouldn’t have to worry about that. ”I’d buy you the biggest pent house there was, looking over Central Park or the port. Something you deserve” Iago declared, before panicking ever so slightly. That sounded really gay. He hoped Jafar didn’t notice. But he seemed too wrapped up in warmth to really pay attention.
When Iago left his cup with Jafar, he didn’t really expect him to drink it. Especially not to drink all of it. So this was a pleasant surprise. While Iago, partier that he was, had a pretty highly tolerance, Jafar had little to none. This was gonna be a fun night. Jafar drunk was always amusing, seeing him out of his shell like thise, even if it was for just a few hours. He didn’t even mind having to watch him like a babysitter.
He trailed after Jafar as he headed towards the field, giggling ever so slightly. Jafar and Iago were not, by any stretch, ‘cool kids’. But Iago would let his friend have this moment. ”Oh? And what do these ‘cool kids do?’ he asked, taking his spot next to Jafar.
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Bang Bang
what can I say except
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[div class=fyuri11wrapper][div class=fyuri11imagebox][div class=fyuri11overlayparent][div class=fyuri11overlay][div class=fyuri11header]Jafar Deja
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Jafar let Iago have his delusions about the idea that Jafar would let him pick out his own shoes, let alone the actual tuxedo; they'd cross that bridge when they got to it, by Jafar burning down all possibility that he was being caught dead with a man who thought that vans could be legally combined with a suit under the law of good sense. Admittedly, he did have the distant sense that he was possibly being teased, but Iago wouldn't do that, surely? Asking himself that question earned the answer of 'that's exactly what he'd do', and thus he settled with just giving Iago a pursed smile and shaking his head at him.
Following Iago's declaration, Jafar had to admit a penthouse sounded nice, but then— "You don't have to make fun of me quite so constantly. I was trying to be nice," he said with a wry grimace. 'Something you deserve' indeed. The Iago he knew would never say something so horrifically sentimental with it being anything but blatant mockery, so ha hardy ha Iago, jokes on you. "I'm still going to hold you to that now. But you are not allowed to hotbox the rooms. It's a penthouse for Christ's sake; use the roof we're staring out across whilst looking down at the peasants below." He used the term 'peasants' only semi-sarcastically. It also happened to be his favorite term for Aladdin, but that was neither here not there. The point was, he was enjoying this insane imagined future a little too much considering he hadn't intended the offer as a permanent fix.
But, thinking about it... why not? Iago didn't seem to want to do anything with his life in terms of a certain College calling his name. And he simply did not know how to spend his own money properly, so Jafar was practically providing a service by helping him spend it. Or, in all seriousness, it'd save him yet another four years of having to lie through his teeth about his own background. Plus living long-term with Iago wouldn't be as bad as sharing with unknown college cretins who threw raves in the kitchen and left their unwashed dishes everywhere. Iago wasn't exactly neat, but Jafar had years of experience now compensating for his specific breed of mess. In a way, the half-serious suggestion wasn't all that bad. But then again, Iago had townhouses across half the world and hot foreigners to pursue. He'd probably get bored with Jafar once school no longer became a limiting factor confining them together in the same space. After all, they'd only ended up as friends out of circumstance.
And just like that, Jafar managed to make himself sad— an emotion he most certainly was not supposed to be feeling in public, at a party, over fucking Iago and some nonsense. He'd always known Iago would go on to some hippie free-spirited rich kid lifestyle. They were fundamentally incompatible in the long-term, which he'd known from the beginning and still knew perfectly well. The idiotic thing had been letting himself forget for a minute that this wasn't a friendship for life. It was to serve its purpose, and then they could both go their separate ways. Case closed.
So why he started drinking was pretty obvious by that point, but the drink was supposed to help with the denial, not negate it. Swaggering off into the darkening night, Jafar felt like he was shutting things out just fine, thank you very much. "They— well, they do cool things, obviously. Like not care and stuff. All aloof and... stuff." His own life goals were getting jumbled with the few Teen Movies his father had always been oddly obsessed with, but he was pretty sure that all of that was very cool, and very preferable.
Rotating to walk backwards, he gave Iago a good scowl for how the bastard was daring to laugh. "You did this, you know. Turning me to drink." Jafar was melodramatic enough sober; drunk, he put actual musicals to shame. "Being all—" he made a series of incoherent hand gestures. Squinting at the culprit of his incoherence, he could practically feel the vodka throwing a party in his bloodstream. That and walking backwards had been a little ambitious as he stumbled two paces too fast.
He was forced to interrupt his present debate to raise an extremely pressing topic. Now, let it be stated for the court to witness that Iago was not handsome. Well. He wasn't, you know, some movie star looking guy, and he wasn't ripped or particularly dashing in any sense of the word. Nonetheless, Jafar was drunk, a repressed and sexually frustrated teenage virgin, and did he mention the drunk part? It subsequently needed addressing whether or not Iago was hot or not. Objectively speaking, he was not. Suck a dick, Iago. But, in the witness's statement (internal monologue), it was true that, at that precise moment in time, he kind of wanted to act like a sloppy teenage girl from one those films or MTV documentaries and make out with Iago's objectively-not-hot face.
Which was incredibly stupid, and thus he ignored it and buried it somewhere never to be returned to. "I think we should face the truth. This cool kid is going to go off to spend every hour of the day studying and networking for the next twenty years." He jerked a thumb in the direction of himself, before returning the gesture Iago's way. "And that cool kid is going to go backpacking across god knows where, smoking more narcotics than I want to think about, and probably joining some kind of... sex, cult, orgy, thing. Point is, we should just— we should just face the facts. If it weren't for the fact that nobody else liked us, we'd probably hate each other."
Whoops. He definitely hadn't meant to say that.
[/div][/div][/div][div class=fyuri11credit]code by
Fable
[/div]
Tags:
Seasplash241
Notes: when the 'feels' appear, kill them rapidly with insults and cold hard logic. Good tactic, 11/10 would recommend to a friend.
[div class=fyuri11wrapper][div class=fyuri11imagebox][div class=fyuri11overlayparent][div class=fyuri11overlay][div class=fyuri11header]Jafar Deja
Council President
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Jafar let Iago have his delusions about the idea that Jafar would let him pick out his own shoes, let alone the actual tuxedo; they'd cross that bridge when they got to it, by Jafar burning down all possibility that he was being caught dead with a man who thought that vans could be legally combined with a suit under the law of good sense. Admittedly, he did have the distant sense that he was possibly being teased, but Iago wouldn't do that, surely? Asking himself that question earned the answer of 'that's exactly what he'd do', and thus he settled with just giving Iago a pursed smile and shaking his head at him.
Following Iago's declaration, Jafar had to admit a penthouse sounded nice, but then— "You don't have to make fun of me quite so constantly. I was trying to be nice," he said with a wry grimace. 'Something you deserve' indeed. The Iago he knew would never say something so horrifically sentimental with it being anything but blatant mockery, so ha hardy ha Iago, jokes on you. "I'm still going to hold you to that now. But you are not allowed to hotbox the rooms. It's a penthouse for Christ's sake; use the roof we're staring out across whilst looking down at the peasants below." He used the term 'peasants' only semi-sarcastically. It also happened to be his favorite term for Aladdin, but that was neither here not there. The point was, he was enjoying this insane imagined future a little too much considering he hadn't intended the offer as a permanent fix.
But, thinking about it... why not? Iago didn't seem to want to do anything with his life in terms of a certain College calling his name. And he simply did not know how to spend his own money properly, so Jafar was practically providing a service by helping him spend it. Or, in all seriousness, it'd save him yet another four years of having to lie through his teeth about his own background. Plus living long-term with Iago wouldn't be as bad as sharing with unknown college cretins who threw raves in the kitchen and left their unwashed dishes everywhere. Iago wasn't exactly neat, but Jafar had years of experience now compensating for his specific breed of mess. In a way, the half-serious suggestion wasn't all that bad. But then again, Iago had townhouses across half the world and hot foreigners to pursue. He'd probably get bored with Jafar once school no longer became a limiting factor confining them together in the same space. After all, they'd only ended up as friends out of circumstance.
And just like that, Jafar managed to make himself sad— an emotion he most certainly was not supposed to be feeling in public, at a party, over fucking Iago and some nonsense. He'd always known Iago would go on to some hippie free-spirited rich kid lifestyle. They were fundamentally incompatible in the long-term, which he'd known from the beginning and still knew perfectly well. The idiotic thing had been letting himself forget for a minute that this wasn't a friendship for life. It was to serve its purpose, and then they could both go their separate ways. Case closed.
So why he started drinking was pretty obvious by that point, but the drink was supposed to help with the denial, not negate it. Swaggering off into the darkening night, Jafar felt like he was shutting things out just fine, thank you very much. "They— well, they do cool things, obviously. Like not care and stuff. All aloof and... stuff." His own life goals were getting jumbled with the few Teen Movies his father had always been oddly obsessed with, but he was pretty sure that all of that was very cool, and very preferable.
Rotating to walk backwards, he gave Iago a good scowl for how the bastard was daring to laugh. "You did this, you know. Turning me to drink." Jafar was melodramatic enough sober; drunk, he put actual musicals to shame. "Being all—" he made a series of incoherent hand gestures. Squinting at the culprit of his incoherence, he could practically feel the vodka throwing a party in his bloodstream. That and walking backwards had been a little ambitious as he stumbled two paces too fast.
He was forced to interrupt his present debate to raise an extremely pressing topic. Now, let it be stated for the court to witness that Iago was not handsome. Well. He wasn't, you know, some movie star looking guy, and he wasn't ripped or particularly dashing in any sense of the word. Nonetheless, Jafar was drunk, a repressed and sexually frustrated teenage virgin, and did he mention the drunk part? It subsequently needed addressing whether or not Iago was hot or not. Objectively speaking, he was not. Suck a dick, Iago. But, in the witness's statement (internal monologue), it was true that, at that precise moment in time, he kind of wanted to act like a sloppy teenage girl from one those films or MTV documentaries and make out with Iago's objectively-not-hot face.
Which was incredibly stupid, and thus he ignored it and buried it somewhere never to be returned to. "I think we should face the truth. This cool kid is going to go off to spend every hour of the day studying and networking for the next twenty years." He jerked a thumb in the direction of himself, before returning the gesture Iago's way. "And that cool kid is going to go backpacking across god knows where, smoking more narcotics than I want to think about, and probably joining some kind of... sex, cult, orgy, thing. Point is, we should just— we should just face the facts. If it weren't for the fact that nobody else liked us, we'd probably hate each other."
Whoops. He definitely hadn't meant to say that.
[/div][/div][/div][div class=fyuri11credit]code by
Fable
[/div]Tags:
Seasplash241
Notes: when the 'feels' appear, kill them rapidly with insults and cold hard logic. Good tactic, 11/10 would recommend to a friend.
Jafar let Iago have his delusions about the idea that Jafar would let him pick out his own shoes, let alone the actual tuxedo; they'd cross that bridge when they got to it, by Jafar burning down all possibility that he was being caught dead with a man who thought that vans could be legally combined with a suit under the law of good sense. Admittedly, he did have the distant sense that he was possibly being teased, but Iago wouldn't do that, surely? Asking himself that question earned the answer of 'that's exactly what he'd do', and thus he settled with just giving Iago a pursed smile and shaking his head at him.
Following Iago's declaration, Jafar had to admit a penthouse sounded nice, but then— "You don't have to make fun of me quite so constantly. I was trying to me nice," he said with a wry grimace. 'Something you deserve' indeed. The Iago he knew would never say something so horrifically sentimental with it being anything but blatant mockery, so ha hardy ha Iago, jokes on you. "I'm going to hold you to that now. But you are not allowed to hotbox the rooms. It's a penthouse for Christ's sake; use the roof we're staring out across whilst looking down at the peasants below." He used the term 'peasants' only semi-sarcastically. It also happened to be his favorite term for Aladdin, but that was neither here not there. The point was, he was enjoying this insane imagined future a little too much considering he hadn't intended the offer as a permanent fix.
But, thinking about it... why not? Iago didn't seem to want to do anything with his life in terms of a certain College calling his name. And he simply did not know how to spend his own money properly, so Jafar was practically providing a service by helping him spend it. Or, in all seriousness, it'd save him yet another four years of having to lie through his teeth about his own background. Plus living long-term with Iago wouldn't be as bad as sharing with unknown college cretins who threw raves in the kitchen and left their unwashed dishes everywhere. Iago wasn't exactly neat, but Jafar had years of experience now compensating for his specific breed of mess. In a way, the half-serious suggestion wasn't all that bad. But then again, Iago had townhouses across half the world and hot foreigners to pursue. He'd probably get bored with Jafar once school no longer became a limiting factor confining them together in the same space. After all, they'd only ended up as friends out of circumstance.
And just like that, Jafar managed to make himself sad— an emotion he most certainly was not supposed to be feeling in public, at a party, over fucking Iago and some nonsense. He'd always known Iago would go on to some hippie free-spirited rich kid lifestyle. They were fundamentally incompatible in the long-term, which he'd known from the beginning and still knew perfectly well. The idiotic thing had been letting himself forget for a minute that this wasn't a friendship for life. It was to serve its purpose, and then they could both go their separate ways. Case closed.
So why he started drinking was pretty obvious by that point, but the drink was supposed to help with the denial, not negate it. Swaggering off into the darkening night, Jafar felt like he was shutting things out just fine, thank you very much. "They— well, they do cool things, obviously. Like not care and stuff. All aloof and... stuff." His own life goals were getting jumbled with the few Teen Movies his father had always been oddly obsessed with, but he was pretty sure that all of that was very cool, and very preferable.
Rotating to walk backwards, he gave Iago a good scowl for how the bastard was daring to laugh. "You did this, you know. Turning me to drink." Jafar was melodramatic enough sober; drunk, he put actual musicals to shame. "Being all—" he made a series of incoherent hand gestures. Squinting at the culprit of his incoherence, he could practically feel the vodka throwing a party in his bloodstream. That and walking backwards had been a little ambitious as he stumbled two paces too fast.
He was forced to interrupt his present debate to raise an extremely pressing topic. Now, let it be stated for the court to witness that Iago was not handsome. Well. He wasn't, you know, some movie star looking guy, and he wasn't ripped or particularly dashing in any sense of the word. Nonetheless, Jafar was drunk, a repressed and sexually frustrated teenage virgin, and did he mention the drunk part? It subsequently needed addressing whether or not Iago was hot or not. Objectively speaking, he was not. Suck a dick, Iago. But, in the witness's statement (internal monologue), it was true that, at that precise moment in time, he kind of wanted to act like a sloppy teenage girl from one those films or MTV documentaries and make out with Iago's objectively-not-hot face.
Which was incredibly stupid, and thus he ignored it and buried it somewhere never to be returned to. "I think we should face the truth. This cool kid is going to go off and spent every hour of the day studying and networking for the next twenty years." He jerked a thumb in the direction of himself. "And that cool kid is going to go backpacking across god knows where, smoking more narcotics than I want to think about, and probably joining some kind of... sex, cult, orgy, thing. Point is, we should just— we should just face the facts. If it weren't for the fact that nobody else liked us, we'd probably hate each other."
Whoops. He definitely hadn't meant to say that.
Following Iago's declaration, Jafar had to admit a penthouse sounded nice, but then— "You don't have to make fun of me quite so constantly. I was trying to me nice," he said with a wry grimace. 'Something you deserve' indeed. The Iago he knew would never say something so horrifically sentimental with it being anything but blatant mockery, so ha hardy ha Iago, jokes on you. "I'm going to hold you to that now. But you are not allowed to hotbox the rooms. It's a penthouse for Christ's sake; use the roof we're staring out across whilst looking down at the peasants below." He used the term 'peasants' only semi-sarcastically. It also happened to be his favorite term for Aladdin, but that was neither here not there. The point was, he was enjoying this insane imagined future a little too much considering he hadn't intended the offer as a permanent fix.
But, thinking about it... why not? Iago didn't seem to want to do anything with his life in terms of a certain College calling his name. And he simply did not know how to spend his own money properly, so Jafar was practically providing a service by helping him spend it. Or, in all seriousness, it'd save him yet another four years of having to lie through his teeth about his own background. Plus living long-term with Iago wouldn't be as bad as sharing with unknown college cretins who threw raves in the kitchen and left their unwashed dishes everywhere. Iago wasn't exactly neat, but Jafar had years of experience now compensating for his specific breed of mess. In a way, the half-serious suggestion wasn't all that bad. But then again, Iago had townhouses across half the world and hot foreigners to pursue. He'd probably get bored with Jafar once school no longer became a limiting factor confining them together in the same space. After all, they'd only ended up as friends out of circumstance.
And just like that, Jafar managed to make himself sad— an emotion he most certainly was not supposed to be feeling in public, at a party, over fucking Iago and some nonsense. He'd always known Iago would go on to some hippie free-spirited rich kid lifestyle. They were fundamentally incompatible in the long-term, which he'd known from the beginning and still knew perfectly well. The idiotic thing had been letting himself forget for a minute that this wasn't a friendship for life. It was to serve its purpose, and then they could both go their separate ways. Case closed.
So why he started drinking was pretty obvious by that point, but the drink was supposed to help with the denial, not negate it. Swaggering off into the darkening night, Jafar felt like he was shutting things out just fine, thank you very much. "They— well, they do cool things, obviously. Like not care and stuff. All aloof and... stuff." His own life goals were getting jumbled with the few Teen Movies his father had always been oddly obsessed with, but he was pretty sure that all of that was very cool, and very preferable.
Rotating to walk backwards, he gave Iago a good scowl for how the bastard was daring to laugh. "You did this, you know. Turning me to drink." Jafar was melodramatic enough sober; drunk, he put actual musicals to shame. "Being all—" he made a series of incoherent hand gestures. Squinting at the culprit of his incoherence, he could practically feel the vodka throwing a party in his bloodstream. That and walking backwards had been a little ambitious as he stumbled two paces too fast.
He was forced to interrupt his present debate to raise an extremely pressing topic. Now, let it be stated for the court to witness that Iago was not handsome. Well. He wasn't, you know, some movie star looking guy, and he wasn't ripped or particularly dashing in any sense of the word. Nonetheless, Jafar was drunk, a repressed and sexually frustrated teenage virgin, and did he mention the drunk part? It subsequently needed addressing whether or not Iago was hot or not. Objectively speaking, he was not. Suck a dick, Iago. But, in the witness's statement (internal monologue), it was true that, at that precise moment in time, he kind of wanted to act like a sloppy teenage girl from one those films or MTV documentaries and make out with Iago's objectively-not-hot face.
Which was incredibly stupid, and thus he ignored it and buried it somewhere never to be returned to. "I think we should face the truth. This cool kid is going to go off and spent every hour of the day studying and networking for the next twenty years." He jerked a thumb in the direction of himself. "And that cool kid is going to go backpacking across god knows where, smoking more narcotics than I want to think about, and probably joining some kind of... sex, cult, orgy, thing. Point is, we should just— we should just face the facts. If it weren't for the fact that nobody else liked us, we'd probably hate each other."
Whoops. He definitely hadn't meant to say that.
Last edited:
Seasplash241
An on fire garbage can
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Iago BabaghaSo this was happening. Jafar was wasted. And on any other occasion Iago would be thrilled. Jafar was a hoot when he was drunk (re: the show tunes show-off). However, this drunk Jafar was sad and introspective to a fault. And Iago had to deal with this. He had hoped Jafar would realize he wasn't joking. While Iago loved to flaunt his wealth, he never really though anyone lesser if they were poor. Especially not Jafar. "I may be a bitch, but I would never make fun of you like that," he said, his own buzz loosening his tongue a bit. But then Jafar moved on, leaving that whole bit, hopefully, in the past where it belonged.
At the hot boxing comment, Iago let out a chuckle. Truth be told, he was smoking less and less now a days. Smoking made him... depressed, so say the least. At least with drinking he also got an edge of 'I don't give a fuck' that saved him from total depression. However, he kept this little tidbit of information to himself, not wanting Jafar to know how messed up he truly was.
And just like that, Iago was back to laughing at Jafar's antics, reaching out with a hand to steady him when he stumbled. "I may have turned you to drinking, but it suits you well. Let loose, live a little! Get drunk, punch someone, make out with a stranger. You can't get away with this shit when you're older." At least, that was Iago's philosophy.
The smile Iago wore at being called a 'cool kid' faded quickly at Jafar's analysis. Man, he really is gone, he thought, wondering how much of this Jafar was going to remember tomorrow. And as much as Iago wanted to defend himself, he knew he couldn't. No one really liked him, or Jafar. They were outcasts that found each other, or were paired up for some stupid project sophomore year. The fact that Jafar stuck around for so long had to mean something, right? Though, if Iago was honest, that was probably due to his parent. It wouldn't be the first time he was only tolerated because of his influence. Jafar, with his ambitions, was no different. So why did this hurt so much?
Wishing he had a drink or a bowl, Iago regarded Jafar carefully. Hoping his face held his signature smile and hid the waver in his voice, he began to speak. "You're right, but that's no surprise. You'll make something out of your life, do something, while I dick around until I'm dead at 30. But you must be an idiot if you think I'm just gonna drop you after we leave this hell. I haven't lied to you yet, and I hope you're drunk enough to forget this whole conversation," he concluded, realizing he said way more than he intended to. Hiding his red face in his hands, Iago took a few deep breaths, slowing his pulse to a more manageable level. "You seem pretty out of it, you want me to walk you to your room? Or you can just crash at mine," he offered, hoping to put this whole thing behind them.
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Iago BabaghaSo this was happening. Jafar was wasted. And on any other occasion Iago would be thrilled. Jafar was a hoot when he was drunk (re: the show tunes show-off). However, this drunk Jafar was sad and introspective to a fault. And Iago had to deal with this. He had hoped Jafar would realize he wasn't joking. While Iago loved to flaunt his wealth, he never really though anyone lesser if they were poor. Especially not Jafar. "I may be a bitch, but I would never make fun of you like that," he said, his own buzz loosening his tongue a bit. But then Jafar moved on, leaving that whole bit, hopefully, in the past where it belonged.
At the hot boxing comment, Iago let out a chuckle. Truth be told, he was smoking less and less now a days. Smoking made him... depressed, so say the least. At least with drinking he also got an edge of 'I don't give a fuck' that saved him from total depression. However, he kept this little tidbit of information to himself, not wanting Jafar to know how messed up he truly was.
And just like that, Iago was back to laughing at Jafar's antics, reaching out with a hand to steady him when he stumbled. "I may have turned you to drinking, but it suits you well. Let loose, live a little! Get drunk, punch someone, make out with a stranger. You can't get away with this shit when you're older." At least, that was Iago's philosophy.
The smile Iago wore at being called a 'cool kid' faded quickly at Jafar's analysis. Man, he really is gone, he thought, wondering how much of this Jafar was going to remember tomorrow. And as much as Iago wanted to defend himself, he knew he couldn't. No one really liked him, or Jafar. They were outcasts that found each other, or were paired up for some stupid project sophomore year. The fact that Jafar stuck around for so long had to mean something, right? Though, if Iago was honest, that was probably due to his parent. It wouldn't be the first time he was only tolerated because of his influence. Jafar, with his ambitions, was no different. So why did this hurt so much?
Wishing he had a drink or a bowl, Iago regarded Jafar carefully. Hoping his face held his signature smile and hid the waver in his voice, he began to speak. "You're right, but that's no surprise. You'll make something out of your life, do something, while I dick around until I'm dead at 30. But you must be an idiot if you think I'm just gonna drop you after we leave this hell. I haven't lied to you yet, and I hope you're drunk enough to forget this whole conversation," he concluded, realizing he said way more than he intended to. Hiding his red face in his hands, Iago took a few deep breaths, slowing his pulse to a more manageable level. "You seem pretty out of it, you want me to walk you to your room? Or you can just crash at mine," he offered, hoping to put this whole thing behind them.
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⠀♡coded by uxie♡
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Bang Bang
what can I say except
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[div class=fyuri11wrapper][div class=fyuri11imagebox][div class=fyuri11overlayparent][div class=fyuri11overlay][div class=fyuri11header]Jafar Deja
[/div][/div][/div][div class=fyuri11parent][div class=fyuri11content]
Letting loose and living was for other people. Iago's phrasing proved that. "Yeah but I can't Iago. Whatever I do now will just come out twenty years later when I don't want it to. You can't get away with anything nowadays. Gotta be perfect from the get go." The stumbling had been a mistake, Iago suddenly too close, hand on his arm.
After that and actually saying something that was the exact opposite of his 'be there for Iago' commitment, Jafar could see just how badly it had hit the other, who suddenly looked crestfallen in an adorable kind of way, which, weirdly, just made him want to make-out with him more. Groaning, he covered his face with his hands. "Man I wish I hadn't drunk that. Why am I such a lightweight? Drunk off fucking cider, or whatever fruity shit that was." Through his fingers he could still see Iago's face, looking like a dog that had been kicked. The worst part? He didn't look angry. This was why they rarely fought, despite their differences; Jafar couldn't stand Iago when they were fighting. The guy didn't get angry properly, just hurt. Even Jafar, Ice King that he was, couldn't stand the way Iago being hurt made himself feel. 'Sorry' wasn't in Jafar's vocabulary, so he never knew how to fix it. The usual tactic of 'just insult them until they storm off and you don't have to deal with them or their feelings anymore' never seemed to work with this idiot. Bastard always came back.
To give Iago credit where credit was due, he did a reasonable job of faking a smile; too bad his voice cracked halfway through. "Urgh, you asshole," Jafar mumbled into his palms before peeling his hands away from his face finally. "You're not going to die at 30. You're not allowed to die at thirty. I will personally come and drag your ass back from hell to yell at you if you die at thirty. And I'm—" He didn't know what to say. He wasn't good at this, let alone equipped with the solution to just fix both their respective neurosis. He didn't manage to finish before Iago continued, offering him to crash at his room. "Please. Yours. Fucking Joshua is next to me again this year. He sees me drunk..." Jafar was not capable of being bullied, thank you very much, but the Captain of the rugby team came awfully close for his liking. This evening was shit enough without Jafar embarrassing himself in front of that dickhead.
Sighing, his head feeling like a fucking spinning monster headache and he wasn't even hungover yet, Jafar positioned himself to walk next to Iago. Steering wasn't going to well so he mumbled a "fucking hell" and hoped that was ample request for putting his arm around the other's shoulder for balance. Good thing Iago was perfect balancing post height. Urgh. So well-designed. One of a kind. "This is not as fun as last time," Jafar grumbled as he gave up on keeping his eyes open and put his face in Iago's shoulder, fed up of the dim school ground spinning before his eyes.
Just do it, you're drunk, you might not even have to remember, Jafar told himself internally, trying to just... get it over with. Essentially draped over the best friend he'd just told he ought to hate, literally his entire physical support system right now, Jafar tried to will the alcohol to lubricate more than just his insult faculties and maybe loosen up the other ones too (mind out of the gutter, children). "Oi, Iago," Jafar muttered, twisting his face to brave the night air so that all this effort didn't go to waste on being muffled by the other's shoulder. "I'm— urgh. For being drunk. And saying dumb shit. I'm— sorry, alright? I'm not trying to—" He cut off with a sigh, wishing they were at the other's room already. "I'm supposed to be being a better friend this year. Okay? So. Sorry. I don't fucking know how to do that kind of stupid dumb fluffy stuff. But you're fucking stuck with me so," turning back into the shoulder, he huffed out, "sorry."
When they finally reached Iago's room, Jafar was quick to stumble in and flop onto the end of the bed, curling up like a too-long lanky cat. "Everything is spinning. I do not enjoy this. Why do you do this so much? It's horrible." He really could not understand the appeal.
[/div][/div][/div][div class=fyuri11credit]code by
Fable
[/div]
Tags:
Seasplash241
Notes: FYI I shifted it a bit because I checked, and I'm not crazy - apparently this is a boarding school setting so I moved Iago's suggestion to being back to his room. I hope that is all okay with you, good Splash.
[div class=fyuri11wrapper][div class=fyuri11imagebox][div class=fyuri11overlayparent][div class=fyuri11overlay][div class=fyuri11header]Jafar Deja
Council President
[/div][/div][/div][/div][div class=fyuri11parent][div class=fyuri11content]
Letting loose and living was for other people. Iago's phrasing proved that. "Yeah but I can't Iago. Whatever I do now will just come out twenty years later when I don't want it to. You can't get away with anything nowadays. Gotta be perfect from the get go." The stumbling had been a mistake, Iago suddenly too close, hand on his arm.
After that and actually saying something that was the exact opposite of his 'be there for Iago' commitment, Jafar could see just how badly it had hit the other, who suddenly looked crestfallen in an adorable kind of way, which, weirdly, just made him want to make-out with him more. Groaning, he covered his face with his hands. "Man I wish I hadn't drunk that. Why am I such a lightweight? Drunk off fucking cider, or whatever fruity shit that was." Through his fingers he could still see Iago's face, looking like a dog that had been kicked. The worst part? He didn't look angry. This was why they rarely fought, despite their differences; Jafar couldn't stand Iago when they were fighting. The guy didn't get angry properly, just hurt. Even Jafar, Ice King that he was, couldn't stand the way Iago being hurt made himself feel. 'Sorry' wasn't in Jafar's vocabulary, so he never knew how to fix it. The usual tactic of 'just insult them until they storm off and you don't have to deal with them or their feelings anymore' never seemed to work with this idiot. Bastard always came back.
To give Iago credit where credit was due, he did a reasonable job of faking a smile; too bad his voice cracked halfway through. "Urgh, you asshole," Jafar mumbled into his palms before peeling his hands away from his face finally. "You're not going to die at 30. You're not allowed to die at thirty. I will personally come and drag your ass back from hell to yell at you if you die at thirty. And I'm—" He didn't know what to say. He wasn't good at this, let alone equipped with the solution to just fix both their respective neurosis. He didn't manage to finish before Iago continued, offering him to crash at his room. "Please. Yours. Fucking Joshua is next to me again this year. He sees me drunk..." Jafar was not capable of being bullied, thank you very much, but the Captain of the rugby team came awfully close for his liking. This evening was shit enough without Jafar embarrassing himself in front of that dickhead.
Sighing, his head feeling like a fucking spinning monster headache and he wasn't even hungover yet, Jafar positioned himself to walk next to Iago. Steering wasn't going to well so he mumbled a "fucking hell" and hoped that was ample request for putting his arm around the other's shoulder for balance. Good thing Iago was perfect balancing post height. Urgh. So well-designed. One of a kind. "This is not as fun as last time," Jafar grumbled as he gave up on keeping his eyes open and put his face in Iago's shoulder, fed up of the dim school ground spinning before his eyes.
Just do it, you're drunk, you might not even have to remember, Jafar told himself internally, trying to just... get it over with. Essentially draped over the best friend he'd just told he ought to hate, literally his entire physical support system right now, Jafar tried to will the alcohol to lubricate more than just his insult faculties and maybe loosen up the other ones too (mind out of the gutter, children). "Oi, Iago," Jafar muttered, twisting his face to brave the night air so that all this effort didn't go to waste on being muffled by the other's shoulder. "I'm— urgh. For being drunk. And saying dumb shit. I'm— sorry, alright? I'm not trying to—" He cut off with a sigh, wishing they were at the other's room already. "I'm supposed to be being a better friend this year. Okay? So. Sorry. I don't fucking know how to do that kind of stupid dumb fluffy stuff. But you're fucking stuck with me so," turning back into the shoulder, he huffed out, "sorry."
When they finally reached Iago's room, Jafar was quick to stumble in and flop onto the end of the bed, curling up like a too-long lanky cat. "Everything is spinning. I do not enjoy this. Why do you do this so much? It's horrible." He really could not understand the appeal.
[/div][/div][/div][div class=fyuri11credit]code by
Fable
[/div]Tags:
Seasplash241
Notes: FYI I shifted it a bit because I checked, and I'm not crazy - apparently this is a boarding school setting so I moved Iago's suggestion to being back to his room. I hope that is all okay with you, good Splash.
Letting loose and living was for other people. Iago's phrasing proved that. "Yeah but I can't Iago. Whatever I do now will just come out twenty years later when I don't want it to. You can't get away with anything nowadays. Gotta be perfect from the get go." The stumbling had been a mistake, Iago suddenly too close, hand on his arm.
After that and actually saying something that was the exact opposite of his 'be there for Iago' commitment, Jafar could see just how badly it had hit the other, who suddenly looked crestfallen in an adorable kind of way, which, weirdly, just made him want to make-out with him more. Groaning, he covered his face with his hands. "Man I wish I hadn't drunk that. Why am I such a lightweight? Drunk off fucking cider, or whatever fruity shit that was." Through his fingers he could still see Iago's face, looking like a dog that had been kicked. The worst part? He didn't look angry. This was why they rarely fought, despite their differences; Jafar couldn't stand Iago when they were fighting. The guy didn't get angry properly, just hurt. Even Jafar, Ice King that he was, couldn't stand the way Iago being hurt made himself feel. 'Sorry' wasn't in Jafar's vocabulary, so he never knew how to fix it. The usual tactic of 'just insult them until they storm off and you don't have to deal with them or their feelings anymore' never seemed to work with this idiot. Bastard always came back.
To give Iago credit where credit was due, he did a reasonable job of faking a smile; too bad his voice cracked halfway through. "Urgh, you asshole," Jafar mumbled into his palms before peeling his hands away from his face finally. "You're not going to die at 30. You're not allowed to die at thirty. I will personally come and drag your ass back from hell to yell at you if you die at thirty. And I'm—" He didn't know what to say. He wasn't good at this, let alone equipped with the solution to just fix both their respective neurosis. He didn't manage to finish before Iago continued, offering him to crash at his room. "Please. Yours. Fucking Joshua is next to me again this year. He sees me drunk..." Jafar was not capable of being bullied, thank you very much, but the Captain of the rugby team came awfully close for his liking. This evening was shit enough without Jafar embarrassing himself in front of that dickhead.
Sighing, his head feeling like a fucking spinning monster headache and he wasn't even hungover yet, Jafar positioned himself to walk next to Iago. Steering wasn't going to well so he mumbled a "fucking hell" and hoped that was ample request for putting his arm around the other's shoulder for balance. Good thing Iago was perfect balancing post height. Urgh. So well-designed. One of a kind. "This is not as fun as last time," Jafar grumbled as he gave up on keeping his eyes open and put his face in Iago's shoulder, fed up of the dim school ground spinning before his eyes.
Just do it, you're drunk, you might not even have to remember, Jafar told himself internally, trying to just... get it over with. Essentially draped over the best friend he'd just told he ought to hate, literally his entire physical support system right now, Jafar tried to will the alcohol to lubricate more than just his insult faculties and maybe loosen up the other ones too (mind out of the gutter, children). "Oi, Iago," Jafar muttered, twisting his face to brave the night air so that all this effort didn't go to waste on being muffled by the other's shoulder. "I'm— urgh. For being drunk. And saying dumb shit. I'm— sorry, alright? I'm not trying to—" He cut off with a sigh, wishing they were at the other's room already. "I'm supposed to be being a better friend this year. Okay? So. Sorry. I don't fucking know how to do that kind of stupid dumb fluffy stuff. But you're fucking stuck with me so," turning back into the shoulder, he huffed out, "sorry."
When they finally reached Iago's room, Jafar was quick to stumble in and flop onto the end of the bed, curling up like a too-long lanky cat. "Everything is spinning. I do not enjoy this. Why do you do this so much? It's horrible." He really could not understand the appeal.
After that and actually saying something that was the exact opposite of his 'be there for Iago' commitment, Jafar could see just how badly it had hit the other, who suddenly looked crestfallen in an adorable kind of way, which, weirdly, just made him want to make-out with him more. Groaning, he covered his face with his hands. "Man I wish I hadn't drunk that. Why am I such a lightweight? Drunk off fucking cider, or whatever fruity shit that was." Through his fingers he could still see Iago's face, looking like a dog that had been kicked. The worst part? He didn't look angry. This was why they rarely fought, despite their differences; Jafar couldn't stand Iago when they were fighting. The guy didn't get angry properly, just hurt. Even Jafar, Ice King that he was, couldn't stand the way Iago being hurt made himself feel. 'Sorry' wasn't in Jafar's vocabulary, so he never knew how to fix it. The usual tactic of 'just insult them until they storm off and you don't have to deal with them or their feelings anymore' never seemed to work with this idiot. Bastard always came back.
To give Iago credit where credit was due, he did a reasonable job of faking a smile; too bad his voice cracked halfway through. "Urgh, you asshole," Jafar mumbled into his palms before peeling his hands away from his face finally. "You're not going to die at 30. You're not allowed to die at thirty. I will personally come and drag your ass back from hell to yell at you if you die at thirty. And I'm—" He didn't know what to say. He wasn't good at this, let alone equipped with the solution to just fix both their respective neurosis. He didn't manage to finish before Iago continued, offering him to crash at his room. "Please. Yours. Fucking Joshua is next to me again this year. He sees me drunk..." Jafar was not capable of being bullied, thank you very much, but the Captain of the rugby team came awfully close for his liking. This evening was shit enough without Jafar embarrassing himself in front of that dickhead.
Sighing, his head feeling like a fucking spinning monster headache and he wasn't even hungover yet, Jafar positioned himself to walk next to Iago. Steering wasn't going to well so he mumbled a "fucking hell" and hoped that was ample request for putting his arm around the other's shoulder for balance. Good thing Iago was perfect balancing post height. Urgh. So well-designed. One of a kind. "This is not as fun as last time," Jafar grumbled as he gave up on keeping his eyes open and put his face in Iago's shoulder, fed up of the dim school ground spinning before his eyes.
Just do it, you're drunk, you might not even have to remember, Jafar told himself internally, trying to just... get it over with. Essentially draped over the best friend he'd just told he ought to hate, literally his entire physical support system right now, Jafar tried to will the alcohol to lubricate more than just his insult faculties and maybe loosen up the other ones too (mind out of the gutter, children). "Oi, Iago," Jafar muttered, twisting his face to brave the night air so that all this effort didn't go to waste on being muffled by the other's shoulder. "I'm— urgh. For being drunk. And saying dumb shit. I'm— sorry, alright? I'm not trying to—" He cut off with a sigh, wishing they were at the other's room already. "I'm supposed to be being a better friend this year. Okay? So. Sorry. I don't fucking know how to do that kind of stupid dumb fluffy stuff. But you're fucking stuck with me so," turning back into the shoulder, he huffed out, "sorry."
When they finally reached Iago's room, Jafar was quick to stumble in and flop onto the end of the bed, curling up like a too-long lanky cat. "Everything is spinning. I do not enjoy this. Why do you do this so much? It's horrible." He really could not understand the appeal.
Last edited:
r e i
-- the lost king --
CharlieBoy
Space Cowboy
Aladdin looked up, wiping a tear from his eye. He saw his best friend and stiffened himself.
“I’m not crying. I have bad allergies” he said, short and sharply. This was right before he sighed, and his eyes started leaking once again.
“I want to get out of here, Ay” he sighed, his head buried in his hands, his curly black hair bouncing out of them. “ I’m fed up. I get the blame for everything. I’m just sick of it all. I have few friends, more enemies. There’s just nothing for
Me here. And the principle hates me. The drinks spiked, yeah? Well, I’ve been blamed. Detentions and everything... I haven’t even been near to that part of the party yet.. no one likes a street rat, Ay”
“I’m not crying. I have bad allergies” he said, short and sharply. This was right before he sighed, and his eyes started leaking once again.
“I want to get out of here, Ay” he sighed, his head buried in his hands, his curly black hair bouncing out of them. “ I’m fed up. I get the blame for everything. I’m just sick of it all. I have few friends, more enemies. There’s just nothing for
Me here. And the principle hates me. The drinks spiked, yeah? Well, I’ve been blamed. Detentions and everything... I haven’t even been near to that part of the party yet.. no one likes a street rat, Ay”
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