It's Dev's turn to have some fun with the CLF. So after stopping into a local convenience store and buying an 8-pack of Magic Markers, he has been going around doodling on every flier he comes across, humming to himself all the while.
The doodles vary from purple and green stick-figure monsters nomming on the picture of the tattooed boy to little flying saucers circling the word "alien" to speech bubbles above the pictures of sick people, most saying "LOL PLAGUE" or "OOPS, DED" or "BRAAAAINZZZ!!"
Dev is not known for his tact.
However, along with the variety of doodles, there is a repeating phrase that Dev is very careful to make as multi-colored as possible. The phrase is "Front, come and play!" followed by several smiley faces.
Dev is having more fun with this than is strictly necessary.
There's an amused snort from behind him. She's smoking again, and huffs a ring around a zombie. "Goddamn. Nice work. Too bad it won't have an appreciative audience."
Dev turns to meet her, thinking at first that she might be CLF. He tilts his head and decides she isn't. Not with blue hair.
He beams. "Ah, well, an audience of one is better than an audience of none, yes?" He bows. "And I'm sure the CCCCCCCCCChicago Liberation Front will quite appreciate it." He blinks and cracks his neck, reeling a little from Ace's mental kick. Dev can only get away with using acronyms when Ace is asleep.
Dev smiles brightly. Oh, Fritz, if you only knew how close to the truth you were.
"Sorry, sorry. Sometimes the mouth moves faster than the brain, you know?"
He smirks a little as she puts out the cigarette. He's pretty sure he's seen her before, through Ace. Right...the blue hair. She's the one from Cicero.
That smile is as fake as her left from canine. "Do I ever. Friggin'--"
Right. Mentioning archangels baaad. "Friggin' archangels putting a boot to my neck every time I piss sideways while the wind is blowing, y'think they'd've learned my tongue's the treadmill that spins my fat ass around. Don't much like in-suh-bore-din-aye-shun, that flock."
Fritz goes to take another huff of the cigarette and remembers she squitched it out on the plague posterchild's face. Well fuck. She flicks it absently at Dev's forehead instead.
Dev grins. "Not met any archangels, not met many angels as it is. Plenty of them fluttering around the Conrad. Though archies, mm, seem the more unpleasant type. Certain amount of moral militancy I'm not fond of."
Dev doesn't have Ace's reflexes, but he manages to catch the cigarette butt before it hits his head. His grin broadens. He likes this girl. She's got a fascinating manner about her.
The doodles vary from purple and green stick-figure monsters nomming on the picture of the tattooed boy to little flying saucers circling the word "alien" to speech bubbles above the pictures of sick people, most saying "LOL PLAGUE" or "OOPS, DED" or "BRAAAAINZZZ!!"
Dev is not known for his tact.
However, along with the variety of doodles, there is a repeating phrase that Dev is very careful to make as multi-colored as possible. The phrase is "Front, come and play!" followed by several smiley faces.
Dev is having more fun with this than is strictly necessary.
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He beams. "Ah, well, an audience of one is better than an audience of none, yes?" He bows. "And I'm sure the CCCCCCCCCChicago Liberation Front will quite appreciate it." He blinks and cracks his neck, reeling a little from Ace's mental kick. Dev can only get away with using acronyms when Ace is asleep.
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She steps past him and puts her cigarette out on a plague victim's face. Yeah, she has just that much sensitivity when it comes to this sort of thing.
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"Sorry, sorry. Sometimes the mouth moves faster than the brain, you know?"
He smirks a little as she puts out the cigarette. He's pretty sure he's seen her before, through Ace. Right...the blue hair. She's the one from Cicero.
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Right. Mentioning archangels baaad. "Friggin' archangels putting a boot to my neck every time I piss sideways while the wind is blowing, y'think they'd've learned my tongue's the treadmill that spins my fat ass around. Don't much like in-suh-bore-din-aye-shun, that flock."
Fritz goes to take another huff of the cigarette and remembers she squitched it out on the plague posterchild's face. Well fuck. She flicks it absently at Dev's forehead instead.
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Dev doesn't have Ace's reflexes, but he manages to catch the cigarette butt before it hits his head. His grin broadens. He likes this girl. She's got a fascinating manner about her.
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