[And there goes Ryuji, chasing after the 7 ball like it's going to roll off into another dimension. He ducks his head under a cocktail table, reaching out to nab it, and just as he does so, clumsily bangs his head up against the fine wood of the structure.
Ow.
Grabbing his head, he groans and secures it with his other, free hand. He's grumbling something incredibly vulgar under his breath, before slamming the thing down on the table and cursing its existence. Saber, on the other hand- well, he can't blame her. He feels oddly compelled not to.
no subject
Ow.
Grabbing his head, he groans and secures it with his other, free hand. He's grumbling something incredibly vulgar under his breath, before slamming the thing down on the table and cursing its existence. Saber, on the other hand- well, he can't blame her. He feels oddly compelled not to.
Nonetheless, he holds out the cue stick.]
No, watch me.