murderpuppy: (My heart is ever at your service)
Connla, like all the other children in Mayfield, had to go to school, even if he didn't like it.  He was not exactly what one would call a model student; he was fidgety and full of energy and would rather be running around and playing than sitting behind a desk.  It also didn't help that he was irretrievably lost whenever the teacher told him to read something that was on the board or in a book, on account of the fact that he was an ancient Scot and couldn't read.

He had never turned in a single homework assignment or answered a single question on an exam.  He preferred to draw pictures of bunnies and birds and things like that in the blank spaces.  He thought it made the paper look much better than if it just had a whole bunch of words on it.

A.  After school

Connla was sitting in a tree with a bunch of papers tucked under one arm-- a keen eye might notice that they looked like they'd been torn out of a textbook-- and was folding one of the sheets carefully and with great concentration.  On his lap were the products of previous foldings, and after a few moments, another (slightly wobbly) paper airplane dropped to join the others.  Someone had taught him how to make them during the day, and he had been utterly fascinated by these little things that could fly.  He didn't know what an 'air plain' was, but he liked making them.

When he finally had enough of them, he gathered them up, got into a good position, and...

there was a mass exodus of paper airplanes coming out in all directions from the tree, seemingly all at once.

Hopefully no one was in the way of all that paper zipping about.

B.  action at 310 Miller


Connla was sitting at the table, his homework for the evening in front of him.  His homework didn't require crayons, but those were scattered out messily across the table in front of him.

He was happily drawing and scribbling away, paying absolutely no attention to whatever was printed on the paper.  

The page looked something like this. )
murderpuppy: (The boy mocked the hosts of Ulster)
A.  Action/phone from 919 Bilko

Gilgamesh had invited Connla over for one purpose: to get drunk.

They had succeeded.

An undisclosed amount of alcohol later-- not that Connla would have been coherent enough to count all those bottles even if he had wanted to-- there one drunk boy and one pretending-to-be-drunk boy hanging around.  So, for all intents and purposes, two demigod boys, inebriated, one of whom had gotten the brilliant idea that there was a phone and there were people at the other ends of those phones and why weren't they calling them already.

This could only end well.

B. Everywhere else, doing all the things

Two boys couldn't be expected to stay cooped up in a house all day, especially not when one was drunk and there was mischief to be had.  Especially mischief that involved Lancer and trolling the hell out of him.  Be afraid, Hound of Ulster.  Be very afraid.   So there is, at least, one boy who is sort of weaving as he walked, because wow he didn't know that the ground could get all wobbly like that, and probably laughing at every other thing that Kogil said, because everything was funny now!

For now, at least.  Later might be a different story, and tomorrow would hold all sorts of interesting miseries, but at the moment, Connla was a happy little intoxicated derp boy who was having a damn good time.

There was only one question:

Is your body ready, Mayfield?

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murderpuppy: (Default)
Connla mac Setanta

September 2011

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