Post by Mr. Moshypocrite McSlowbro on Aug 28, 2012 0:58:57 GMT -5
“Why is a little boy even running around a building site anyway? We’re not a day-care!” Now, it was fair to saw Weiss was not particularly difficult to rile. The calm facade he wore in an attempt to make him appear older to others was a thin mask at best, and despite his awareness of the fact, and herculean effort to the contrary, he more often than not found himself acting impulsively in situations of duress. But the one thing, the one gibe that never failed to rouse an irrational, heedless anger from the boy was just that: to draw attention to his youth. More specifically, to imply some sort of disability, physical or mental, that he possessed due to his age. The recent months had molded him into a fiercely independent soul, and instilled a sense that he could achieve anything any older individual could. In fact, he could do it even better.
This notion had thus far led to a series of disordered attempts to prove his own worth, the boy's inflated pride overwhelming an otherwise keen mind. And, whether he was aware of it or not, the situation was shaping up to be a continuation of the saga.
"Hey! Don't treat me like a little kid! I've probably done more in my life than you and these backwoods bumpkins combined!" Weiss shouted, pointing a finger accusingly, with something of a smug grin on his face. It was true, his travels had certainly taken him far beyond the range of most twelve-year-olds. If he noticed the low grumble that emanated from the assembled workforce when when uttered the word 'bumpkin', he did not notice. "Where do you get off acting all high-and-mighty anyway? Just because you look like someone dumped a tool shed on you doesn't mean you know what you're talking about!"
Bappou, the poor lad, seemed to be more distressed by the sudden aggression than either of the young firebrands. Inserting his tall bony from between them, more a symbolic gesture than anything, he attempted to take the role of mediator. "Um. Guys? There's no need to shout. Nobody was hurt..."
The child with the blonde-blue hair took a moment to regard the Foreman, a fellow for whom his respect had skyrocketed in moments past. On one hand, he wished to indulge his wish for peaceful discourse, a small sacrifice in the face of what the man had done for him. But on the other hand, the weird chick was right there, glaring at him disdainfully. If he backed out, it would be as bad as losing. And Weiss refused to accept any form of loss, regardless of its actual importance. "And I wouldn't even be here if I had a choice. But I don't! I have to put up with some bossy pubescent girl and her apparent dreams of grandeur!"
From the sidelines, two of the burly, strapping men attending to the actual construction work had taken a moment's reprieve from their back-breaking exertion to observe the brewing storm. "Wasn't there just a major structural collapse? Should we be concerned or something?" One said to his cohort, a poignant observation given the collapse that had just transpired.
"Shush your face." The second barked back, dismissing the more prudent line of thought in favor of one he found infinitely more entertaining. "Brat fight!"
This notion had thus far led to a series of disordered attempts to prove his own worth, the boy's inflated pride overwhelming an otherwise keen mind. And, whether he was aware of it or not, the situation was shaping up to be a continuation of the saga.
"Hey! Don't treat me like a little kid! I've probably done more in my life than you and these backwoods bumpkins combined!" Weiss shouted, pointing a finger accusingly, with something of a smug grin on his face. It was true, his travels had certainly taken him far beyond the range of most twelve-year-olds. If he noticed the low grumble that emanated from the assembled workforce when when uttered the word 'bumpkin', he did not notice. "Where do you get off acting all high-and-mighty anyway? Just because you look like someone dumped a tool shed on you doesn't mean you know what you're talking about!"
Bappou, the poor lad, seemed to be more distressed by the sudden aggression than either of the young firebrands. Inserting his tall bony from between them, more a symbolic gesture than anything, he attempted to take the role of mediator. "Um. Guys? There's no need to shout. Nobody was hurt..."
The child with the blonde-blue hair took a moment to regard the Foreman, a fellow for whom his respect had skyrocketed in moments past. On one hand, he wished to indulge his wish for peaceful discourse, a small sacrifice in the face of what the man had done for him. But on the other hand, the weird chick was right there, glaring at him disdainfully. If he backed out, it would be as bad as losing. And Weiss refused to accept any form of loss, regardless of its actual importance. "And I wouldn't even be here if I had a choice. But I don't! I have to put up with some bossy pubescent girl and her apparent dreams of grandeur!"
From the sidelines, two of the burly, strapping men attending to the actual construction work had taken a moment's reprieve from their back-breaking exertion to observe the brewing storm. "Wasn't there just a major structural collapse? Should we be concerned or something?" One said to his cohort, a poignant observation given the collapse that had just transpired.
"Shush your face." The second barked back, dismissing the more prudent line of thought in favor of one he found infinitely more entertaining. "Brat fight!"