[No way in hell Richie's gonna say no to a party. They didn't exactly come around too often in Derry and when they did he either wasn't invited or had to live up to some stupid expectations and oblige by a mile-long list of rules. Decorum and social expectations, not his bag. He'd much rather collect an armful of crap to entertain himself with, in a corner off to the side. Just because he was surrounded by people didn't mean he had to socialize, the band has his interest more than anything and as he's flipping through the rule book of one card game in particular he's tapping his foot to the beat, occupying a lavish seat in a mound of pillows hoarded off one of the sofas. Fort Tozier is open for business.]
☆ GREENHOUSE INVASIONS
[If these things are anything like the rats in the sewers and in the barrens, Richie doesn't mind tasking himself with running them off. It doesn't seem difficult in theory, but once he's in there dealing with them reality bites. Literally. He's brandishing a bat and sucking on the side of his hand where one of those little bitches got him. It flew off, but he's already chased three of them out of the greenhouse. He's got the wooden baseball bat leaning against one knee with the door to the place propped open behind him.]
Little shit...
[Even though it's daylight the world gets dark around him, and it feels damp - like the underneath the Neibolt house all over again. A voice creeps out of the shadows, yellow shiny coin-like eyes staring back at him.
Hi Richie. A shark-like smile follows, each tooth illuminated in the dark. Fuck, he should've known. He should've known this new place was all just some elaborate ruse. He never should've made the deal - never should have trusted. Richie grabs the baseball bat and scrambles to his feet.]
Richie "Trashmouth" Tozier / IT: 2017
☆ GREENHOUSE INVASIONS
Little shit...
[Even though it's daylight the world gets dark around him, and it feels damp - like the underneath the Neibolt house all over again. A voice creeps out of the shadows, yellow shiny coin-like eyes staring back at him.
Hi Richie. A shark-like smile follows, each tooth illuminated in the dark. Fuck, he should've known. He should've known this new place was all just some elaborate ruse. He never should've made the deal - never should have trusted. Richie grabs the baseball bat and scrambles to his feet.]
Get bent you circus freak!!
☆ NETWORK
userpic: here
My name is Richie, I'm 13, and I'm addicted your mom. It all began when she pinched my cheeks, but not the cheeks you think.