[center][img]http://i.imgur.com/CllpOun.png[/img]
[color=6ecff6][h2]Dallas Grenier - All of the Shawshank, None of the Redemption[/h2][/color]
[@Write] - Evaluating[/center]

[color=6ecff6][i]skrchskrchskrchskrchskrchskrchskrch[/i][/color]

[color=6ecff6][i]Stop![/i][/color]

He had company. [color=6ecff6][i]Fuck![/i][/color] The switchblade he was discreetly using to saw away wooden desk from metal chair stopped scraping as discreetly as could be managed. Dallas flicked his wrist under the desk and pocketed the knife before leaning back and tousling the blue-highlighted bangs in his dark hair. She was crouching down to serve at his eye level, instead of plopping down. Dallas had been on the streets too long not to surmise it had something to do with the fact that she'd cracked the tile just by pulling herself out of her chair. Jumping rope probably caused Richter scale fuckery on an enhanced scale. [color=6ecff6][i]Status: do not fuck. Potential for planetary pole reversal.[/i]

...

[i]Status is currently undergoing appeals process.[/i][/color]

[color=6ecff6]"I don't know, I kind of like the idea of being a superhero. All the movie deals these days, who knows? I got a face for the screen. I got to have input on my own super suit, ain't nobody gonna have a reason to complain there. Besides, maybe heroism's hella my speed and I just don't know it yet. Beating up the rich. Stopping the dastardly. Volunteering with the elderly. Sounds titillating."[/color] Dallas tilted his head at the newcomer and finally smiled lazily. [color=6ecff6]"I'm Dallas. [i]Quoi de beau,[/i] Happy Feet?"[/color]