~Gone Too Far~ (Thundy|Blitz!)

Nothing particular was going on that morning, when Remo came into the living room - if you can call it the living room. Many a silly boy and girl had died in that very room, but somehow the carpets looked flawless. He wondered how the house stayed so nice, with blood stains scattered everywhere once in a while.

Nevertheless, he was resting leisurely on the couch, holding his head up and staring at the little dots on the ceiling. When Remo arrived and started playing the guitar, he gazed at the boy in disgust.

"Can't you play that somewhere else?" he asked, locking his fingers together behind his head as he moved his attention back to the ceiling.

Can't you go to you room and stare at the ceiling in there?

Donte smirked, pulling himself off of the couch and leaning against the arm.

"No, what would be the point of that? See, the ceiling in here is so much more interesting. Stucco. Mine's all plain. If I went up there to sneak a peek at mine, I wouldn't find so much. See?" He pointed one finger towards nothing in particular. "A cloud, if you look hard enough."

Nodding enthusiastically, he pulled himself up onto the arm of the chair and swung his legs from it, turning his attention completely towards Remo and the guitar.

"Where did you learn to play guitar, anyways? You're terrible, you know?"

Remo looked annoyed, but then Donte had that sort of effect on people.

Ahh, but Remo was no fun. Donte had his pranks and his practical jokes with the other kids, but nobody ever seemed amused by it. They would scream at him, or threaten to kill him, or turn him into their parents (who didn't care, anyways, because they called his jokes "psychologically tricky" or something along those lines). Nevertheless, he had a reputation, and Remo didn't seem to think Donte was worth wasting his time on. He didn't even glance over. How rude.

Except Donte was getting to the other boy, he could tell. It wasn't difficult to bother somebody - it was just a pain to get them to react.

Now, Remo.. Remo stopped playing. The music wasn't half bad, but Donte wanted silence. He wanted to be alone, in that room, with zero distractions from doing nothing. He drummed his fingers against a side-table and moved closer.

"The thing is, you know," he began, "I don't plan on learning any time soon, unless you were to hand over that guitar." He held up his hands. "Not that I'm making a request."

Loud laughter poured out of him when he least expected it, so much that it could probably be heard throughout the house. He laughed for seconds, a minute - really, he couldn't tell - to the point where his sides hurt and he nearly began to cough like a sick old woman. It shouldn't have been so funny, but then Donte had previously spent his time discerning the shapes in the stucco of the ceiling. Everything was amusing.

"I said that I wasn't making a request. You say you're not dumb, but good Ripred, you don't listen. That's a fancy guitar you've got, but what would I do with a guitar but smash it against your face?" He mulled over the thought for a second. "Nah, bad idea."

He leaned back and cracked his knuckles.

Honestly, Donte hadn't seen that one coming. Had he actually won for once? Bulled someone into action? Bothered a guy to the point of giving in? His face fell, not quite sure how to think of the situation now that he had been given the power.. and the guitar. He held it in his hands awkwardly - probably not correctly - and stared at the other boy in amazement.

"You're.. not kidding?" He raised his eyebrows, incredulous. He didn't even want to learn how to play the guitar. Still, it was in his hands, and he had won.

Victory wasn't so sweet. More boring than anything, once he had it. He sighed, but looked down at the wood and the strings.

"How does this thing work?"