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Post by wolven6262 on Jun 4, 2012 18:50:39 GMT -5
 THIS CITY IS ON FIRE; WHEN THE SUN GOES DOWN THE LIGHTS GO UP Rambo got his food from the pizza seller, his plate already beginning to feel wet underneath from the greasy cheese and his left hand frigid because of the Pepsi he was holding. Glancing around the cafeteria, he completely missed anyone he might have known and decided that, rather than looking needy, he'd just sit with that guy he'd spotted sitting alone over at the middle table. He was apparently quietly tolerating his friendlessness...Rambo figured he was probably the type who'd say he was 'waiting' for someone as soon as Rambo sat down, but that the he wouldn't actually tell him off. Taking one last glance around as he walked over - this time to make sure no one was gonna sit down there before him - he made his way through the aisles between the tables and started grinning before he even got over to the stranger. It wasn't a posed smile, either...Rambo just really liked meeting new people. Especially if they had money, because he was always too damn poor to get anything from the vending machines.
"Hai dere," he said, "I can sit here?" Not that he waited for an invitation. He just sat and dropped his lunch on the table, his backpack falling on the seat next to him. Giving the other student a closer look, he realized the other boy was probably more than just a few years older than him. "What year you be at?" He wondered whether the older kid could actually understand him and he was glad he knew at least how to introduce himself using the English words. Back home they'd tried to teach the kids proper grammar early on, and what was French and what was English, but by the time he should've been taking classes in both languages Rambo hadn't been in school at all. His mom was from the Town and his dad was Acadian and he'd done most of his learning from his Cajun friends. His first year at the Academy had taught him not to say much of anything in French, and no one here exclaimed merde or avoir l'aborde or whooped at raves. He still had to talk like he was some kind of couillon most of the time, too. But he'd picked up enough to be understandable, and what he didn't know he just gestured around until his audience got the point. Plus, a lot of the girls thought his accent was cute, so that was something.
He took a bite of his pizza before continuing on, heedless of the food in his mouth. "Dis be your premier year here, den?" Again, he didn't wait for an answer, just went on talking as though the other boy was a statue, or maybe a wall. "Be my second, here. Don' like dis weather, too cold, cold for me now, m'ami. I like t'ings hot." He grinned conspiratorially before eating more pizza, and when he glanced back up, his expression was blank with false innocence. "Not dat you know dat merde, you look like couillon to me." He said it because that's what he did...wound people up, pushed them away, didn't let them ask too many questions. It didn't even matter that the other guy wasn't asking, Rambo was pissing him off before he could get there. And he was trying to make friends! Lord only knew how it would go if he ever had to make a commitment to someone. TAKE A RIDE; THE CONSTELLATIONS
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Post by ASHTON CAMDEN RALEIGH on Jun 5, 2012 3:47:45 GMT -5
Ashton had a lot of friends and could have chose to sit with any of them that day in the mess hall but he had decided that he was going to meet one friend in particular and so he shook his head when one of the tables full of Earths hailed him. "Not today, guys, sorry. See you after school though?" A few of them nodded and he smiled in a friendly sort of manner before he moved to the large buffet-style tables at one end of the room. They were piled high with all sorts of food, healthy or otherwise. As usual, the specials like pizza, hot dogs and burgers were elsewhere, the students had to pay for the less nutritious food, but Ashton realised only a little too late that he'd left his wallet at home. Idiot, he told himself. You'd forget your head if it wasn't attached to you. He wasn't too bothered, though. The cheesy macaroni salad seemed pretty good and he piled some of it onto a plate, took some mashed potatoes as well. There was something that he thought was fish laid out and he took a piece of that simply because it smelled good. He returned with this decent-sized meal to one of the few empty tables in the hall. It was starting to fill up now and Ashton had not seen the girl he was meant to be meeting, so he figured it was safe to stake out a place for himself in order to wait for her to show. He had too much faith in people sometimes and didn't realise she'd already bailed.
Of course, when she didn't arrive and it was five minutes later, suspicions started to prickle uncomfortable at the back of his mind. Ashton did his best to ignore them as he tucked into the salad. He looked up from his food when someone sat next to him, asking if he were allowed to sit but not waiting for an answer. Thankfully Ashton was a pretty friendly guy and so he didn't mind either way. It didn't look like his friend was coming anyway. "Sure, I don't mind," he said, shaking his head as he spoke to back up these words. He set down his fork so that he was not tempted to take another bite of the macaroni salad seeing as the other boy was speaking to him and Ash wanted to answer without being rude. His mouth full of salad would definitely be 'rude'. His mother used to slap him upside the head whenever he'd talk with his mouth full as a kid and that had taught him that it was a bad idea early on. "I'm in college, a freshman," he replied to the question without hesitating. He was an open person and there was no reason to conceal that information anyway, even if he was talking to a complete stranger. Wouldn't stay a stranger for long, right? "You?" The guy looked younger than him but he wasn't sure by how much.
It took him a moment to figure out what premier meant, the Earth recognising it as French but not immediately connecting which French word it was. Come on, you took the classes. He'd never been that great in them but he knew basics. It didn't seem like an answer was even required, though, as his new acquaintance ploughed on without incident. Ashton still wasn't quite sure what to make of him. First! The thought was triumphant. That's what it means, right? "Well, fifth, actually," he corrected when he was actually given a chance to speak. Ashton didn't mind waiting for other people to finish their rambling before he opened his own mouth. He was too friendly for his own good sometimes. "First in college, though. And yeah, I guess Canada is pretty cold. What did that last bit mean, though?" He sounded genuinely curious, having no idea that Rambo had practically just insulted him. He knew the very basics of French but cuss words and insults were beyond his understanding. Whether that would be fortunate or unfortunate for him remained to be seen. He twitched his lips into a smile anyway and said, "I'm Ashton." An introduction was always a nice way to start things off, right?
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Post by wolven6262 on Jun 6, 2012 3:34:46 GMT -5
THIS CITY IS ON FIRE; WHEN THE SUN GOES DOWN THE LIGHTS GO UP Oh, but this would be a challenge, riling Ashton up. He seemed to be ready to tolerate anything, unwilling to respond or even assume that Rambo would say something raunchy or impolite. He clearly knew the white side of a tablecloth - he'd carefully put his fork to the side when Rambo had settled himself in the seat across the way - and while the Cajun could respect that, he really could, he found himself wondering what this guy was like. He was curious about him the way he would be curious about a poisonous snake...he wanted to poke him with a stick, see what would happen. Rambo had been raised far from the right side of the tracks and he'd had no experience with white-collar people, practically, until he'd come to the Academy. He'd even quit school before he could figure out what gâté kids were and where they came from. He could have been intimidated by this kind of thing, sure, but his curiosity outweighed his already flimsy self-consciousness. Ashton was interesting and novel and Rambo wanted to see what made him tick.
Rambo gave the older boy a shit-eating grin when he asked about the French, ignoring all the other questions until he had to stop and take a drink. "I find you da vierge, you know, not bin wit' a girl yet, huh?" He made an obscene humping gesture with his hips before leaning forward again and eating more pizza. "Don' give me a slap for dat. I'm Rambo." The younger man held out a hand and kept talking. "Mais I make tenth year, last year, not by much." His expression turned almost confrontational as he added, "I bet you make your year by a lot, no? Cowan." Despite what he said, Rambo was actually somewhat jealous of Ashton, of any of the students who could get good grades...this was the reason for making a comment at all, no matter that it was a bad way to express his thoughts. He didn't know what was going on in class half the time and he'd started to think the hours he spent there were a big, big waste of time. He stayed because he was already on detention, being watched by a bastard of a teacher who he'd insulted pretty damn well because the man had had the nerve to give him a lecture for smoking in the corridor. Skipping detention had earned Rambo a curfew and he didn't want to be sent home if that was the third step in the disciplinary chain. But the work the other kids did was impressive and something of a goal for him to work for if he was ever in the mood. It was frustrating, though, because whenever he felt like achieving he'd turn out a paper, only to receive merde for a grade and all his trouble. It was like going crawfish trapping and only catching frogs.
"Where you from?" Rambo asked then, switching topics. The older boy didn't sound like he had an accent but that could mean everything or nothing at all, from what the Cajun could tell. It was a big wide world out there and unless you were from the South or Latin America - or Europe, he tacked on - you probably sounded just like everyone else. Also, Ashton had seemed unsurprised by Rambo's comment on the weather, but that didn't seem to mean anything either...the Texian was very low-key, didn't react to anything and came to a boil pretty slow. This spurred questions about his Element, too; Rambo went on and asked him about it. "Mais, you wind, huh? Earth?" He snorted. "Not Thunder, please, dem caprice is scary, scary. All gonna kill you in your sleep." He mock-shuddered. "Give me da freesons ta t'ink, I fear for my life all de time, here. It like a maison d'fous." He grinned suddenly as if he was relieved and grabbed Ashton's macaroni salad, along with Ashton's fork. "You not gonna kill me though, no?" he confirmed, and took a big bite. TAKE A RIDE; THE CONSTELLATIONS
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Post by ASHTON CAMDEN RALEIGH on Jun 6, 2012 11:43:57 GMT -5
Surprisingly enough, Ashton was not a very high-class person. His manners were more due to his desire to avoid offending anyone as opposed to anything else. He was polite because he was a genuinely nice guy. He didn't know that Rambo was doing all of this to try and set him off and so he was very upbeat and cheerful as ever. He blinked at the next comment, though, and his cheeks flushed red for a moment as he realised what Rambo was implying. Had this guy seriously just called him a virgin in the middle of the mess hall? I barely know him! He was more surprised and flustered than offended, though, and he cleared his throat awkwardly. "No I'm, uh, I've definitely... I've had girlfriends before." He was not vulgar and direct enough to simply state 'I'm not a virgin, thanks' and leave it at that. Ashton was hardly an innocent prude but he wasn't as perverted or sexual as a lot of teenagers his age. He could handle the joking but not so much when it became about him. "Uh, no, I won't slap you," he assured the Water elemental a little awkwardly when he introduced himself. Ashton was one of the last people you could expect to see physical violence from but it made perfect sense that Rambo did not know this, seeing as they'd only just met. So he had no problem telling him that he would avoid violence. "Nice to meet you." And he shook his hand, meaning the words even if they were getting off to a strange start.
Now they'd gotten past that, though, Ashton was completely willing to forgive Rambo for inducing the awkwardness and move on in the conversation. It definitely took a lot to permanently ruffle his feathers and make him give up on a person. He did not understand what cowan meant and so was not offended by the insult, merely laughing and shaking his head. "I wish, but no. I barely passed senior year. Getting into college would have been pretty difficult if not for my major." His strengths were in Elemental Studies and so he could easily centre his course choices around those and scrape by. He was still stuck with the core classes as well but at least he didn't have to take Physics or something. "I'm not the greatest at school, I find it boring." He didn't have any troubles with admitting this part of his life to anyone because it was true. He wasn't the type of guy you'd find skipping classes to haunt parties or anything of the sort but he definitely wasn't a model student either. "Barely managed to keep my leadership position, actually. It's a good thing my element liked me so much." He was beginning to make it clear that he enjoyed talking quite a lot. He was a chatty guy, Ashton was.
The question was abrupt but he was more than equipped to random switching of conversational topics. As a social butterfly he adapted easily to many types of conversations and the fact that he was very open and honest about himself probably asked. "Like, city or country wise? I'm from Vancouver but my family moved to the Hollow last year-ish." It hadn't quite been a year yet but it was close enough that he could say 'a year' in conversation and get away with it. Vancouver was in Canada, Maple Hollow was in Canada, Ashton was Canadian through and through. He didn't have as prominent a Canadian accent as some but it was still noticeable to someone who knew what they were looking for. To someone who didn't, he probably sounded like any other Canadian or American in the world. Average. "Earth," he agreed, nodding. He laughed about the comment on the Thunders. "I guess they are kinda scary sometimes. They don't talk too much so it's hard to tell with them." He had an elemental advantage over Thunders and so there was some security there. A house... of what? He understood the word for house but didn't catch the second. Horrors or something similar, he assumed, and moved on. He seemed a bit taken aback when Rambo seized the macaroni salad and fork without asking, taking a bite. Because he was a people pleaser, Ashton often didn't feel comfortable with confrontation. Instead he merely said, "Nah, I'm not into the whole murder deal," and gave a bit of an awkward laugh, trying to avoid saying something.
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Post by wolven6262 on Jun 7, 2012 5:02:52 GMT -5
THIS CITY IS ON FIRE; WHEN THE SUN GOES DOWN THE LIGHTS GO UP Rambo smirked at Ashton's awkward admittance of his sexual experience, giving a little sarcastic motion with his head to dismiss the rest of his response. The guy shook his hand at least; that was nice. Not everybody did that and it was actually something the Cajun appreciated. It was direct. He liked to seal deals that way and always had. On top of that, his pepe never shook betting customers' hands, so it had to be a good thing to do. Frankly that bastard had to be one of the least dependable people Rambo knew and he didn't think he'd care if the man up and drowned next hurricane season. But that kind of thing never happened like it should, and while Phil's fighting pit had filled in with muddy water and his fighting ring before that had been ruined by several fallen trees, the dogs - or their owner - never kicked the bucket when God himself had the opportunity to saint them by His own hand. More than once Rambo had wondered if his pepe hadn't died yet because hell itself had refused to take him in. That had been when he was younger, mostly, when he'd had to hide under a tarp in their boat after being beaten into running away and saving his hide. As he'd gotten older he'd gotten smarter and spent time at home only when the front door wasn't cracked. Phil usually didn't close it all the way when he came in, but he could slam it hard enough to crack glass when he left.
Rambo listened to Ashton's comments about his grades and all that with some interest, halfway between making some probably unwanted sarcastic response and just letting the older boy roll. The kid was making rahdoht, now, talking about something Rambo should never have asked about in the first place. But he wasn't a bad kid, not in the way Rambo was used to. There were good kids who did bad things, he knew, but a lot of them were screwed up and couldn't be trusted with anything important at all. A lot of them had guns and liked to use them. Ashton was good though, Rambo thought. Not that he could tell with any certainty but maybe he could start to get to know him, at least. That would be nice. The Earth Elemental seemed somewhat taken aback by the Cajun's shameless food stealing, but he didn't do anything about it and Rambo wondered if this guy could even hate properly. Was that a disease, excessive tolerance?
It ought to be a disease. Tolerant people didn't get anywhere fast. Puis à nouveau, maybe they got there with fewer injuries, the Water thought to himself. He'd gotten into plenty of trouble with his big attitude and loud opinions. half the time people didn't care and when you tried to tell them anyway you got all kinds of reactions. There were even some couillons who tried burning your house down. But that had only happened once. And that had been a bad thing, once in ten years, that kind of thing was. Nothing to lose sleep over.
"No, you right," Rambo replied to Ashton's last comment. "Me too. Mais, dere was dat one bastard tried to take d'chouchoot from da boat, he di'n make it. He was moitier fou though, half crazy, huh?" The Cajun looked at Ashton with a completely straight face; the only indication he might be joking were his eyes, stretched wide in what was either secrecy or sarcasm. unfortunately there would have been hardly any difference between the two expressions if anyone had had to tell the truth for sure. TAKE A RIDE; THE CONSTELLATIONS
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Post by ASHTON CAMDEN RALEIGH on Jun 7, 2012 12:13:13 GMT -5
Ashton tended to ramble a lot when he met new people or even when he was talking to people who were already his friends. He was good at talking, it was a real talent of his. If a conversation got quiet he was more than capable of pulling the words out of nowhere that would be needed to keep it afloat. He talked for a while and didn't seem to mind that Rambo had reverted to just listening to his responses instead of going back and forth with them. He definitely was more tolerant than any person should be, able to stand almost incredible levels of ignorance compared to most people. He did have limits but the Water had not yet found them. Ashton might have been good at talking but he also knew how to be a listener and so he went quiet for a moment to let Rambo speak, talking about the subject of murder that he'd left off on. Unfortunately he did not understand a large portion of what the other boy was trying to tell him. Shit. Ashton didn't like to be rude and so he was hesitant to tell Rambo to repeat himself, instead trying to work out the gist of what had been said so that he could give a reply without sounding like a jerk. "Yeah, sounds pretty crazy," he 'agreed' with a laugh, even though he was not quite sure what it was he was agreeing to. He was probably making himself out to be a bit of an idiot, for the expression on his face betrayed his mild confusion. Ashton had never been very good at hiding his emotions and feelings. If you upset, pleased, or confused him, it tended to be obvious. Anger was probably the most entertaining, because Ashton was not very good at looking or being angry in general. It went against his nature.
Wanting to move on so that he didn't make too much of an ass out of himself, Ashton decided that he should switch the topic. Instead of finding something completely new right away he fell back on something that had been mentioned earlier in the conversation, though only in regards to himself, "So what element are you? I'm guessing you're not Thunder, maybe not Fire either since you're still talking to me and not trying to roast me?" He laughed even though the thought of having a Fire try to cook him alive was not one he liked to entertain. He wondered if it was possible, cooking someone alive. For a Fire elemental, that is. Probably. He reminded himself to try and not anger any of them to that point. Murder was illegal, elementally or not, and they'd probably get their powers stripped from them, but Ashton would be dead and so that would give him no satisfaction. Being dead wasn't all that fun. "And I mean, well, if you are a Fire, you're pretty nice for one and all." He said this quickly to try and diffuse any possible tensions he might have just created. Not all Fire elementals were of a bad sort. Asha had been alright before she'd broke his heart and all, Lark was great, and even though he hadn't spoke much to Nell's fiancée Josh was a pretty good guy as well. He didn't think that all Thunders were horrible, either, but he'd never run into one of them that was willing to give him the time of day before. A lot of those younger avoided him because his power bested theirs and the older ones intimidated him so he kept his distance. It meant little interaction, mostly.
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Post by wolven6262 on Jun 12, 2012 6:48:53 GMT -5
THIS CITY IS ON FIRE; WHEN THE SUN GOES DOWN THE LIGHTS GO UP It wasn't unusual for Rambo to run into someone who didn't know Cajun French. Even in Louisiana, it was a rare language to find, and although his parish was one of the most thoroughly French in the state, there still weren't as many Cajuns or Creoles there as the Texians from the north or east might have thought. He'd quit school because there were still a lot of teachers that didn't like him speaking his mama's language in their classrooms, and one in particular had tried to cure him of it so severely that he'd just decided he didn't want to go to class anymore. That was in the fourth grade, one of the last years he went to school more than he didn't. Occasionally he still showed up after that, just because he was in the system and the social worker sometimes came around and gave him a time about it. But other than that he was untainted, speaking the Franglish with his mama and his sister and cursing in it at his papa whenever they actually talked. He'd even taught a lot of his friends to speak it, because most all the cops were from the older generation where they'd been beaten for speaking French in the schools, and their families were good enough to follow the law and stop speaking it. Now they knew as much French as any stranger from up in Town might, and it was their own loss. Rambo definitely wasn't gonna go around teaching pigs how to talk like he did.
But here it hurt him more than it helped, and he only really spoke it with his French Canadian friends, or with the kids he knew were taking French classes, or to irritate someone. The French Canadians were easiest to converse with because they took his accent like he took theirs and they could actually talk back and forth. The proper French students spoke like people from France were supposed to, and they didn't know enough to parse out his lazy southern drawl and find the words underneath. Eventually he'd decided he would be better off not speaking it at all, and as hard as it was for him to stop Rambo had done his best. Almost as soon as he'd stopped showing off his heritage he'd gotten desperately homesick, even going so far as to leave the Academy and start hitching his way South again. But he hadn't gotten very far before the time it was taking to get a ride made him bored enough to head back. Leaving was something cowards did and if he hated it so much he could always leave at the end of the year.
He hoped. He didn't know if the school staff would let him leave or not.
But taunting this Earth kid was not proving to be as easy as it looked, and Rambo was thinking of just getting up and leaving. Maybe that would piss the Texian off enough to say something about it. However if their conversation was any indication the Cajun doubted anything of anything would get this guy to respond in kind. Ashton was calm without being lazy and he seemed determined to hold his interest in the conversation, even when he clearly didn't get where Rambo was coming from and couldn't honestly comment on what the other boy had to say. Rambo had to give him props for his determination, as frustrating as it was, especially when it had been the younger student's goal to piss Ashton off and then get up and leave him there. Just something to make the Cajun laugh. Rambo figured he was getting what he deserved for his plans; it wasn't very nice for him to be going around and trying to make enemies, and he couldn't get a rise out of an Earth Elemental anyway; he doubted many people could. He had met his fair share of them and they really didn't seem to be the fighting type. Most of them were perfectly fine being friends with everyone, even if everyone they met didn't want to make friends. They had to be some of the calmest people he'd ever met; Rambo wondered suddenly if that had anything to do with their Elemental status. They were a different species than run-of-the-mill humans, right? Did their personalities have to do with their Elements? He'd often been called da motier foux possedé, a crazy kid that none of the adults wanted to handle. He was the baddest of the bunch, the trickiest one to deal with if you were on his bad side...but when he was here, he was pretty average for a Water Elemental. His mother was hardly surprised by his antics either, now he thought about it. Maybe she'd been expecting it, ever since he'd started acting like he didn't have half a brain in him. Not even enough to keep himself safe; he was constantly getting in fights over nothing more than his grosse bueche, ever since he was very young.
Rambo just smirked when Ashton agreed so easily with his comment. He'd been hinting at murder, just to get a rise out of the other kid (you're sick, you know that?) but of course he'd gotten nothing. He hadn't actually killed Leon, the boy who'd stolen the tarp out of his boat - and the drugs hidden underneath. He'd just thrown him into the bayou and dragged him a mile down the canal by his feet. It had been damn funny, even if the neighbors hadn't approved. But the story obviously wouldn't be getting the appreciation it deserved, so Rambo just gave up and let Ashton change the subject. Rambo let the older boy ramble for awhile, but when he complimented the Cajun on his possible Fire status, the younger kid just snorted. "Don' insult me, mon ami. I be a Water, an' I kick de Fire ass six ways to Sunday wheneva' I get a chance." He snorted at his own comment and then finally decided he ought to hold out a hand for the other boy to shake. "I'm Rambo," he introduced himself. "Ça me fait de la peine, sorry I did'n say it befo'." He took a last bite of Ashton's food and then passed it back across the table. "An' dat, mon ami, needs somet'ing to make it taste good."
OOC: Sorry for the wait! I was put all weekend because it was grad weekend, and I wasn't home at all from Thursday to Sunday. Now I've got my wisdom teeth out and am finishing it at 4 in the morning because I can't sleep XD TAKE A RIDE; THE CONSTELLATIONS
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Post by ASHTON CAMDEN RALEIGH on Jun 12, 2012 12:09:08 GMT -5
One of Ashton's biggest problems was that it was often hard for him to tell whether someone was joking or not unless he knew them well or it was incredibly obvious. So when Rambo suggested that to call him a Fire was an insult, the Earth shook his head quickly. "Oh, no, I wasn't trying to insult you!" Poor Ash didn't realise that being so apologetic about trying to insult Rambo was a bit pathetic, considering the Water elemental had spent quite a bit of his time trying to insult him. Ashton hadn't realised this thanks to a language barrier and so he was still being as friendly and genuine as ever. "I just meant that a lot of Fires don't like my kind, y'know?" Fire elementals often saw the Earths as kindling and that was not a very fun status to have in a school full of angry teenagers that liked to take that anger out on each other. Ashton was a pacifist like most of his elemental kin in Earth and he didn't like fighting. All the same, he did not see every Thunder and every Fire student as a bad person. He'd known plenty of good ones and he'd even dated a Fire once, though that had not worked out. Maybe he should have blamed Asha's element for her treachery, accused the Fires of being unfaithful, but then his good friend Nell was engaged to one and that had not yet gone sour. He was a forgiving person and he wasn't going to call the Fires bad until he had a strong and unwavering reason to.
It was for this reason that he said, "Not all Fires are that bad, though." Rambo seemed to think that they were since he'd said that he could kick their ass and that made Ash a bit uncomfortable since he didn't like fighting. All the same, he tried to stay out of what other people did because he knew that people didn't like him meddling in their lives and telling them what they should and shouldn't do. "My girlfriend's Fire, too. She's a traitor and all. I'm not a traitor myself!" He said this quickly and raised his hands, shaking them slightly as if to indicate insistence against betrayal. He did not think that he could ever turn tail on Earth because he liked his allies too much and quite frankly could not see himself meshing with the often aggressive other side. He wished he could put aside elemental stereotypes for every person and just get along with them all but he knew that it was impossible because, unfortunately, a lot of Fires fit their stereotype all too well. Like the female Fire leader Altair, for example. "But hey, on the flip side, if you're Water that means we're on the same side." He grinned, clearly relieved by this. He still didn't realise the fact that Rambo had sat down with the intent of being offensive. If he started to catch on to the fact that Rambo was trying hard to rile him up, he might leave before he was completely shamed and humiliated by the other boy's words. He wasn't a total pushover but he didn't think he'd start a fight with anyone.
Ashton blinked and hesitated when the hand was offered to him, confused. Rambo introduced himself for a second time and Ashton wondered if he'd forgotten or whether he was trying to be funny. Waters did that, right? Tried to trick people? In the vein of trying not to be rude, he shook his hand a second time and said, "Nah, it's fine, don't worry about it," even though he was still reeling a little bit from the confusion. Rambo returned the stolen food with a comment on the fact that it needed something to make it taste good and Ashton felt a little miffed, though since he was such a calm and patient person it was hardly enough to classify as anger. Maybe you should have got your own and tried it, then. "I thought it was okay," he shrugged. He sometimes wished that he was more of a confrontational person so that he could comfortably speak his mind about some things like these but he really just did not like arguments. He'd rather just leave as opposed to getting up in someone's face. This was probably the reason that, despite his love of joking around and his outgoing nature, Ashton was Earth and not Water like his good ol' grandma was. Waters were often imp-like in their mischief and didn't mind if someone got hurt in the pranking process. Ashton hated to cause harm to other people.
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