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Tim Riggins
[Tim shuffles into the kitchen wearing a pair of jeans that look like he slept in them and a Panthers tee shirt that has the same wrinkled appearance. He opens the fridge and stares inside for a little while. He pulls a bottle of beer out, opens it and resumes his staring into the fridge. After a moment he takes his pants off--yes he's wearing boxers--leaving them crumbled in the floor in front of the fridge. He grabs a slice of cold pizza out of the fridge and shuffles to the nearest couch, slumping down on it and proceeding to eat his pizza and drink his beer in his boxers]

[ooc: Basically Tim's a troll and yes canonically he has a habit of taking his pants off in front of the fridge and leaving them there. Feel free to encounter him either in the kitchen or near a couch]
 
 
Current Mood: awakeawake
 
 
Tim Riggins
07 January 2010 @ 09:20 pm
[Barricading Tim in? Just giving him something to tackle and so he does, hitting the door with a running start repeatedly with his shoulder. Sure he'd be bruised and sore tomorrow but he's been playing football since he was eight. Bruised and sore is the norm of the day. The boards finally shatter underneath his assault. He's not quiet about it at all but he knows this is probably one of the stupid curses and he's on his way to check on Tyra. Feel free to stop him, argue with him, whatever]
 
 
Current Mood: grumpygrumpy
 
 
Tim Riggins
28 December 2009 @ 08:24 pm
[Tim is sitting in his room holding a football in his right hand. He's got it balanced on it's tip between three fingers and his thumb, spinning it a little. He looks somewhat sober for once]

So I was thinkin...anyone interested in playin' a game of football? Anyone here know how to play football? M'sorta open to teachin' people if they're interested.
Tags:
 
 
Current Mood: complacentcomplacent
 
 
Tim Riggins
20 December 2009 @ 07:03 pm
[Video shows Tim sitting on the floor in one of the living spaces next to a fireplace. He's got his legs stretched out in front of him and he's barefoot. He's also got a football in one hand, twirling it a bit as he talks.]

So I know America sorta talked a little 'bout Christmas and some decorating and stuff. Christmas Day was always sorta spent at the Landing Strip with my brother but can't do that this year so I was sorta wonderin' if there's a plan for Christmas or are we jus' sorta on our own here?
 
 
Current Mood: contemplativecontemplative
 
 
Tim Riggins
14 December 2009 @ 10:59 pm
[Here, have a drunk Tim. While that's not any different, there's a more somber, thoroughly trashed and defeated tone to his voice that's not normal. Not to mention he's not putting this all on video. Generally, Tim thinks he's entirely too pretty to waste it.]

So that pit thing...with the stairs? What was it? Is all that shit going to happen?

[He'll expound on what he saw if asked. Right now he's a pretty scared kid that has just seen a nightmare 'future' for himself]
 
 
Current Mood: distresseddistressed
 
 
 
Tim Riggins
09 December 2009 @ 05:40 pm
[Tim is sitting in a chair in the kitchen. He's got a beer in hand. His shirt is plaid and unbuttoned. He is obviously missing pants but his boxer shorts have the University of Texas logo all over them]

So...when do we all get nekkid? 'Cause this porn has more plot and more clothes then I ever seen in a porno.

[ooc: When Faith greeted Tim, she told him it was Wonderland which he mistakenly thought was the porn film Wonderland (I don't know if there's a real one but you KNOW there is). She never corrected him. Yeah he can be that dumb]
 
 
Current Mood: curiouscurious
 
 
Tim Riggins
[There’s a man, kid really, sprawled out on the snow. He’s got torn blue jeans, an old Panthers Football tee shirt, a worn denim jacket and a pair of cowboy boots on. He sits up with a groan and looks around, raking a head through his long hair.]

Seven!

[He winces then looks confused because he doesn’t have a hangover…in fact he still feels pretty drunk. He rolls to his feet, glancing around.]

What the hell?

[He’s damn sure the last thing he remembers was drinking on the Panther’s field then he’d had the bright idea of breaking into the funeral home so Seven could see his dad’s body. This wasn’t the Panther’s field and it sure as hell weren’t the funeral home. Fact, near as he could tell this wasn’t anywhere close to Dillon, Texas]

Seven…we gotta quit drinkin’ like this…
 
 
Current Mood: drunkdrunk
 
 
Tim Riggins
04 December 2009 @ 06:54 pm
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Current Mood: confusedconfused
 
 
Tim Riggins
[Communicate]

“Y’know, it might help if you didn’t show up to practice hung over,” Tyra comments from where she’s sitting at the kitchen table. Tim is currently dying on the couch in his boxer shorts, a cold bottle of beer pressed to his forehead. His body is covered in bruises and he keeps making these annoying noises of pain that send jolts of worry through Tyra; worry she covers with scowls and smart ass remarks.

“Weren’t hung over today,” Tim growls, his voice ridiculously exhausted.

“Oh right, today was one of those days you were still drunk from last night.” Her words are accompanied by an eyeroll that Tim can practically hear.

There’s a bout of relative silence punctuated by Tim’s groans of pain and Tyra’s sighs of irritation before she strikes again.

“Hey Asshole,” she poking the heel of her foot into his shoulder. “Drink this.” She shoves an ice cold bottle of water into his gut making him shoot up off the couch like a jack-in-the-box.

“Holy Hell, Tyra! What the hell are you doing?” Tim shouts.

“Don’t be a baby. You’re going to get dehydrated if you keep up like this asshole. You’ll end up in the fucking hospital and we don’t have the money for the hospital bill. Drink your damn water.”

“I don’t want any damn water. I wanna drink my beer so my whole fucking body doesn’t hurt so much!” Tim yells at her but his yell is losing steam. He doesn’t have the energy for it.
“What the hell happened, Tim? Last year at Dillon you were doing good. You showed up to practice sober and you worked your ass off.”

“You don’t think I’m workin’ my ass off right now? Tyra, don’t this look like I’m workin’ my ass off?” he points to his black and blue torso. There are older bruises showing green and yellow underneath fresh ones.

“What have you got against making this easier on yourself?” Tyra asks. “I didn’t move up here towing your ass with me just so I could play nursemaid to some idiot who’s too stupid to realize he’d play a game better if he weren’t drunk and hungover.”

Tim rakes a hand through his hair and takes a swig of beer. “This ain’t about me, Tyra. It’s hard. Them guys out there hit like fuckin’ trucks and I’m the damn tacklin’ dummy. I don’t need this shit when I come home.”

“And I’m out there supporting your lazy ass waitin’ tables while you play football and work a couple of hours at a garage so don’t give me that bullshit about you don’t this when you come home. Get some damn sleep, Tim. Try being sober for at least twenty four hours at a time and maybe college ball will get a hellva lot easier.”

“I can’t!” Tim yells and it’s not his words or his tone that brings about the silence that follows. It’s the way his shoulders slump and the defeated look on his face.

“You know…Momma had a boyfriend that did the AA thing…” Tyra starts.

“Oh hell, Tyra. I ain’t an alcoholic,,,okay I prolly am but I can stop drinkin’ if I want. It ain’t about the beer and it’s not about me.”

“Then tell me. Fill me in on the great puzzle that is Tim Riggins. What the hell is this about?” Tyra’s standing over him, hands on her hips and giving him that glare that usually makes him pause a heartbeat or two.

“Member how you said I stopped goin’ to practice in Dillon hung over or drunk?” His eyes flick up to hers and then back down to the bottle of water he’s still holding. He screws the top off, takes a sip of water and then goes on once Tyra nods. “Coach Taylor earned it. He went through the personal hell that is coachin’ me. This guy…he ain’t earned that yet.”

Tyra rolls her eyes, smacks him in the back of the head and then goes to get a fresh beer from the fridge. By the time she gets back, Tim is draped across the couch again. She thumps the bottle on the coffee table in front of him. “You drink a bottle of water, I’ll get you a bottle of beer for every bottle of water you drink.”

A grin quirks up the corner of Tim’s lips and starts guzzling the bottle of water. Some people just know how to communicate better.
 
 
Current Mood: soresore
 
 
Tim Riggins
26 June 2009 @ 11:53 pm
I've given my characters a healthy dose of Veritaserum and now they have to tell the truth. What does this mean for you? Ask my characters questions about anything and everything and they will truthfully answer it. Specify game or PSL if you want to.
 
 
Current Mood: calmcalm