05-16-2021, 04:02 AM
[align=center][div style="borderwidth; width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 14pt;"]What the hell had he gotten himself into?
He's asked himself this question a lot these days.
It was too late to go back to their settlement now. He knows that Aunt Hopps is probably worried sick, assumes the worst in the same way she had his father. He don't need to hear it to know it's true. At first, Charlie refused to believe it. Even if didn't always necessarily see eye to eye once Charlie, everyone kinda wants to believe that their parents are invincible. Not vulnerable. Not de- No. Even if it was true, he had his own to worry about. And for better or for worse, his own wasn't the only thing.
Traveling with Maverick has been, well, a rollercoaster. When he failed to talk her out of tagging along, he hoped that eventually, he could dump her somewhere and call it a day. Of course, when it came to the other, it was never that way. She was persistent. Loyal to him . . . for some reason, and so goddamn annoying. Except, he isn't dumb, he knows why. And maybe he's gotten used to her. When Charlie looks at her , there's this undeniable force. His heart palpitates. And he feels things eugh.. Maybe some bought into the idea of love, played at that game like the bunch of fools they are but it obviously ain't work for his dad. Why would he be any different for him?
It couldn't be anything other than a case of stockholm syndrome. He hasn't seen much more than her, after all.
As they push forward, Charlie sheds his jean jacket, making no rush to catch up with his two companions. When it was play time, it was the best time— aka him time. Time to himself. The weather is warmer with a slight breeze to follow, indicating that there could be water nearby. Good. Charlie was on his last drops; if he was dehydrated any longer he fears that Simba's ball might to turn into something else. He's never hallucinated, of course, but he's heard it's a side effect.
"Hey, Skip. Think we may have to start lookin' for water soon it's-" He's not even able to finish when Simba and Maverick bound off towards oblivion. "Aaaand she's gone. Sure, leave without me." He calls, heaving a sigh. His pace quickens slightly to observe what drew them away so quickly, only to see it: endless water far as the eye could see. He's heard about the ocean, but he's never been. All he knows is that dangerous creatures lurk it's waters, and could easily make Mav and Simba their victims. He watches the two, joyous and happy. Charlie's lips quirk briefly upwards but dissipates quickly. Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he wanders closer, but not enough for the waves to reach them. "I've seen better views," he shrugs, face seemingly growing concerned. "It's probably not a good idea to stay in there too long. I read this book that said there's blood-thirsty fish whose favorite snacks are pint sized humans." He gives that infamous Charlie smirk; one Man knows all too well.
He's asked himself this question a lot these days.
It was too late to go back to their settlement now. He knows that Aunt Hopps is probably worried sick, assumes the worst in the same way she had his father. He don't need to hear it to know it's true. At first, Charlie refused to believe it. Even if didn't always necessarily see eye to eye once Charlie, everyone kinda wants to believe that their parents are invincible. Not vulnerable. Not de- No. Even if it was true, he had his own to worry about. And for better or for worse, his own wasn't the only thing.
Traveling with Maverick has been, well, a rollercoaster. When he failed to talk her out of tagging along, he hoped that eventually, he could dump her somewhere and call it a day. Of course, when it came to the other, it was never that way. She was persistent. Loyal to him . . . for some reason, and so goddamn annoying. Except, he isn't dumb, he knows why. And maybe he's gotten used to her. When Charlie looks at her , there's this undeniable force. His heart palpitates. And he feels things eugh.. Maybe some bought into the idea of love, played at that game like the bunch of fools they are but it obviously ain't work for his dad. Why would he be any different for him?
It couldn't be anything other than a case of stockholm syndrome. He hasn't seen much more than her, after all.
As they push forward, Charlie sheds his jean jacket, making no rush to catch up with his two companions. When it was play time, it was the best time— aka him time. Time to himself. The weather is warmer with a slight breeze to follow, indicating that there could be water nearby. Good. Charlie was on his last drops; if he was dehydrated any longer he fears that Simba's ball might to turn into something else. He's never hallucinated, of course, but he's heard it's a side effect.
"Hey, Skip. Think we may have to start lookin' for water soon it's-" He's not even able to finish when Simba and Maverick bound off towards oblivion. "Aaaand she's gone. Sure, leave without me." He calls, heaving a sigh. His pace quickens slightly to observe what drew them away so quickly, only to see it: endless water far as the eye could see. He's heard about the ocean, but he's never been. All he knows is that dangerous creatures lurk it's waters, and could easily make Mav and Simba their victims. He watches the two, joyous and happy. Charlie's lips quirk briefly upwards but dissipates quickly. Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he wanders closer, but not enough for the waves to reach them. "I've seen better views," he shrugs, face seemingly growing concerned. "It's probably not a good idea to stay in there too long. I read this book that said there's blood-thirsty fish whose favorite snacks are pint sized humans." He gives that infamous Charlie smirk; one Man knows all too well.
[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: center; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 1.4;"]I'M [I]HIGH AS A PRIVATE JET. â€â€