Squall tilts his head with a smirk. What was with this cocky idiot? Did he want a fight? Squall would never back down. And he'd win.
And so he draws his weapon.
"One and only chance to back up."
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He downs another drink. This one's sweet. Not what he's expecting at all.
"Who the hell enjoys this crap..."
"Do you expect me to take it easy on ya? What's the fun in that? Both of us are quite capable."
The brown haired male shrugged casually, one hand in his pocket while the other gripped his weapon.
Then a sigh.
"Maybe I'm a little forceful. Sorry... Or whatever..."
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"Has it all blown over yet?"
He took a quick one day vacation over at Costa del Sol. Then went on a date later in the evening. Most annoyances avoided.
He sighs. His ass has been beat literally six times today. He regrets allowing people to do things to him today without limitations.
"Fuck you all. All of you."
"How does anybody enjoy fishing?" He taps his foot, extremely impatient. What was the point of this?
Squall leans down to check on the floor, a bubble of purple popping from the ground. He practically recoils.
"Uh...?" And then the ground underneath him caves in, the gunbreaker trying to catapult himself off any footing.
The ground shifts to a sickly purple color upon the Malboro's defeat. It's somehow more gross. The problem seems to have remained. He sighs, feeling a little bad.
"Doesn't feel like everything's wrapped up. Not one to involve myself, but ground looks worse than before..."
"Call me kid again." Squall growls. It only fuels his desire to murder the poisonous plant. When it is hit, he combos it again with a Blasting Zone and slams into it with a shoulder.
"Cut it in half!"










