(no subject)
Who: Hallelujah and Lyle
When: Sometime on the 22nd
Where: Somewhere in the forest
Rating: PG, PG-13 at the worst
Warnings: Hallelujah is a warning.
Summary: Now that Lyle's back in Purg, it's time for his training to continue, and Halle's got a few lessons he intends on teaching him.
Purgatorium, he noted, had a very predictable cycle to it. Shit would go down, it would calm down, it would be boring, and then shit would go down again. It was one of those boring periods again, and Hallelujah found himself trying to find something to do again. The pickings were slim as always, so there wasn't anything particularly unique that he could do. However, now that a certain Dylandy was back... Who knows how much he had softened up in his time spent 'home', Hallelujah thought to himself. It was about time to whip him back into shape, and maybe give him another piece of his mind in one of the ways he communicated best: with his fists. Or legs, or weapons, or anything related.
The supersoldier leaned back against a tree in the forest area that served as one of their usual training places. If Lyle didn't show up, he was getting his ass thrown out the third story window, no questions asked.
When: Sometime on the 22nd
Where: Somewhere in the forest
Rating: PG, PG-13 at the worst
Warnings: Hallelujah is a warning.
Summary: Now that Lyle's back in Purg, it's time for his training to continue, and Halle's got a few lessons he intends on teaching him.
Purgatorium, he noted, had a very predictable cycle to it. Shit would go down, it would calm down, it would be boring, and then shit would go down again. It was one of those boring periods again, and Hallelujah found himself trying to find something to do again. The pickings were slim as always, so there wasn't anything particularly unique that he could do. However, now that a certain Dylandy was back... Who knows how much he had softened up in his time spent 'home', Hallelujah thought to himself. It was about time to whip him back into shape, and maybe give him another piece of his mind in one of the ways he communicated best: with his fists. Or legs, or weapons, or anything related.
The supersoldier leaned back against a tree in the forest area that served as one of their usual training places. If Lyle didn't show up, he was getting his ass thrown out the third story window, no questions asked.