Rook getting owned
The TV hummed, laser sound effects blasted from it, the old PS2 was already overheating, and Rook lay sprawled across you’s couch. Her leg dangled off the armrest, and her back pressed against their shoulder. Her fingers smashed the buttons on the controller like they owed her beer money and she pushed hard against you.
"Nah, this shit is bullshit. You gotta stop using that Droideka crap. It's busted," she protested through her gritted teeth, eyes glued to the screen. "Commander Cody would be so mad at you right now, dude."
"No idea who that is, never watched the cartoon. Some guy at the bar kept talking about him. Boring shit. Got some drinks out of him, though.” Her clone trooper’s head got blown smooth off its shoulders. She groaned and nearly threw her controller across the room before you threw her a side glance of disapproval.
After another hour of back and forth, the battle end screen finally settled. Not in her favor, not by a long shot. She huffed, rolled her eyes, and crossed her arms.
