[center][img=http://fontmeme.com/newcreate.php?text=Saul%20Hannibal%20Kirschenzweig&name=Feathergraphy2.ttf&size=30&style_color=660525][/center] --- Two bottles of beer in hand, who cared what brand, and a bright smile on his face, Saul felt fantastic and it was in due part to the buzz that numbed the back of his head. Sitting on a nearby bench, he slid one beer in front of him, looking at the blank expression on his equally tall friend, the glaze of his eyes evident as he stared quietly into the parking lot. Flynn's cat had somehow managed to slip past the spray of water and barking dogs to find his way into his owner's arms. After Saul had released him and he'd finally found his quiet spot again, he'd haphazardly thrown on is button up and messed with his still wet hair. He looked messy, tousled and so unlike his usual refined and reserved self; Flynn looked a lot more approachable and less rigid, simply after being manhandled for a good thirty or so minutes, but his eyes still held that icy and aloof gaze and his expression still remained vague and thoughtful. Turning his attention onto the other male, an ecstatic, ever smiling mountain of a man, Flynn's frown showed and immediately deepened as his eyes caught the alcohol being shoved in front of him. He made no move to grab it and simple let his gaze return to the parking lot. The sudden rejection was effective in wiping away the smile on Saul's face, but he made no move to get up and simply took a long draw of his drink and crossed his arms on the table. Leaning forward, he bore his stare into the other man, waiting for him to say something. "What?" Flynn breathed, "Is there something I can help you with?" "Is it your personal goal to make everyone think that you're a pompous ass?" Saul retorted, furrowing his brows. Flynn was silent for a moment, turning his full attention back toward Saul. With an arched eyebrow, he simply repeated, "What?" "I think you very well heard me." "I just don't appreciate being forced into situations I had no intention of being in, around, or anywhere near," Flynn said, gaze hardening, "and then being forced to entertain the idea of making friendly afterwards. Is that pompous of me?" "W-well..." "Excuse me," Flynn frowned, grabbing the offered beer and leaving. "Shit." --- [center][img=http://fontmeme.com/newcreate.php?text=Jaycen%20Landon%20Peirce&name=DEFTONE.ttf&size=40&style_color=CFB43B][/center] --- A fan? Ah, wow, it felt like a lifetime since he was back in the stadium, or at summer camp getting reconditioned and pretty much remodeled for the coming season. The pang in his heart hurt, like a part of himself had somehow gone missing. It was only two years and he'd all but forgotten about pro-football, the league, everything and possibly for the better. It wasn't good to get bogged down on something that was no longer yours or could no longer be yours; he had to live in the present and the present was good. He was satisfied, happy even with what he was doing and it was evident in the radiance exuding from his expression. Jaycen smiled and nodded, glad to hear he had a fan. "Yeah, it was a great run," he said, still smiling, "Hey, Caelbury picks the best from the lot, right? And I'm not talking about myself either." His eyes roamed to the side, catching a glimpse of a certain drama teacher attempting to chase down what looked like a cat and his owner, shouting something incoherent from so far away, but both men were so tall that it was hard to miss either of them seemingly blazing a trail through the party. It brought out a quiet puff from the back of his throat, but it didn't seem all that problematic. His eyes soon fell to the assortment of foods on the table, mainly the delicious meats that had gathered on the side. Excusing himself quickly, he grabbed a plate, a few burgers, some condiments, and was back between Alli and Liam, idly munching on the burger he'd assembled. "So," he said, mouth full as he took a big gulp and wiped his mouth, "What's with the long face, bud? Oh, that reminds me: Alli, we should go do the dunk tank. I bet some boys would love to see their gorgeous history teacher soaked to the bone on such a hot summer afternoon." Turning his head toward Liam, he offered the man a slight jerk of his head, directing him toward the dunk tank in a slight beckon, "And I think it's about time to haze the new kid on the block, eh? I see from the look on Hayden's face, someone managed to get Mr. Aldrin all wet and shirtless, so that's one down. Hayden got me to see Magic Mike with him—I swear, it was like I wasn't even there. You shoulda seen his face afterwards, Alli, redder than his whole body after an entire day out on a beach without sunscreen." The thought sent a shiver through Jaycen, as he set his plate down, suddenly deciding he was no longer hunger and more excited about the idea of a dunk tank. "That was like... oh, I forgot, but I'd still just met him. I didn't realize he burned instead of tanned. Forced me to peel the dead skin off the next day," he explained, scowling as he turned around as he held his arm out for Alli, assuming they'd walk there together, "Enough of that, though. We should head over before the line gets too long and before any of the male teachers get any ideas." That's when he noticed the next of Acacia's victims. "On second though, Alli, I think you should sit this one out. Eliza's enough to get the boys drooling; if you went up right after, they'd swarm the two of you. Unless, of course... one of us forces you to do it. I wonder who that'd be..."