Snippet #2341648

Varin tilted his head to the side, nearly loosing his balance when Eliot stood suddenly. "Pas un problème 'cher. But I'm setting Em's mouth on fire tonight." He said taking his hand and pulling himself up. He tilted himself to the side to look in the house, seeing varin looking more like thumpper and looking nervous. Something that almost never happened when Emilen was among friends. "Uh...Does Em look a little pale to you 'cher?" He asked, though to himself was said out loud. This made Em's head turn from the couch, looking more like a dear in a car's head lights.

Out of no where, Em leaped from the couch and nearly pounced on Varin, pulling him by the arm back in the house. "J'ai besoin de te parler maintenant!" He said while waving and giving a nervous grin to Elliot as he nearly dragged a protesting varin near his room.

"Damnit Em! What is it?!"
"Will you lower ya voice for once listen?!"
"Maybe if you don't drag me away like a damned caveman!"
"I need advice you twit! It's about Kyle!"

Varin blinked and raised a brow. "Kyle huh? creole for the sake of privacy." Em nodded, starting to speak in french to his cousin about the mangled mess of the thought process he was having. The conversation continued, devolving into creole after a while, the only words that could be picked out being "zerg", "protoss", "Kyle", and "Stark" before the nodded to each other before Em went to his room and Varin going into the kitchen. "Stark! What is fo-" A shrill scream rang out from Em's bed room, cutting off his train of thought and Emilen running out of his room and nearly tripping over his own feet back into the living room. Looking more like he had seen a ghost and a laughing Varin in his wake.