Once again, dinner had passed by quietly, though Castiel could not complain about some solitude, even if it was spent in the company of one troubled teenager. He had gotten by with only a few bites of the food, the "Tasty Meal" from earlier having done an adequate job of sating his hunger
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He gestured to his spotted pants, smiling goofily. "See? Should all be havin' the paint to go along with that shit, but I can't all find any. Think maybe we could find some tonight?" He couldn't show proper appreciation for the Mirthful Messiahs if his face wasn't painted up in their likeness. It was pure blasphemy to have his skin be bare for this long. The white might not show up as starkly against the pink, but there would still be an obvious difference.
Appearances were important sometimes, man.
"Oh yeah, did you all wanna up and go out with me? I mean out of the room, haha. Went out last night and all had myself a bitchtits time with that Rose girl." The one who had been familiar with trolls, unlike most of the other humans he'd run into. She was pretty fun to talk to, actually.
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"Uh...." Time to think. Did he go out on his own and possibly get eaten or go out with his possibly insane roommate and still get eaten? Turning away, Ritsuka fished the digital camera out of his possessions box as he thought. They both ended unpleasantly, but one had a higher rate of survival so long as the roomie didn't decide to honk that horn through the halls.
"Sure...I guess I could show you where they keep our fake stuff." Like the camera. Ritsuka popped the new memory card out of its packaging and exchanged it for the old one which was almost full. Carefully, he placed the old card into the protective case and then went to his desk to hide it in his journal. It was the only memento he had of Soubi now. Soubi and Nataku both. "You been upstairs?"
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If Ritsuka was lucky, he might forget to wear it. But then, it was a little chilly outside. "Ain't that just the most wicked motherfuckin' cover you ever saw?" Because if his tastes weren't questionable before, there was the added kicker.
Gamzee was willing to go anywhere as long as there was a chance he'd be able to find some paint along the way. (And probably even if there wasn't.) He didn't know if fake paint would be as good as the real thing, but he's just have to see. The game was all about exploration, wasn't it? He needed to get a hold of something else to use as a weapon. If they found a club or two along the way that would be great.
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"Yeah...." Ritsuka tried his best to sound somewhat sincere since this was Gamzee's idea of 'wicked' or whatever, but he couldn't say more than that. "Looks warm."
That part was true at least.
Going back to the box, Ritsuka pulled the backpack out and checked the mended strap. It would hold and tonight might be a good time to get some extra bandages in preparation for tomorrow. Picking up his flashlight and the radio, he stuffed them both into the rucksack along with a few supplies in case something happened. "If you've been upstairs, you might have--"
It was then that the radio jumped to life, stealing Ritsuka's attention. He listened carefully as the rebel and... No. That guy was with the one who was supposed to be helping them? Ritsuka's expression hardened the longer he listened to the radio transmit the voice of a man just about everyone in the Institute hated. Martin Landel was working with the ones who were supposedly helping the patients. Ritsuka had no illusions that the guy would ever - ever - be of any help, nor did he think Landel wouldn't go back and destroy the rebel and anyone else once he got back into power. "Adults. They're so stupid," he hissed under his breath, shoving the radio further down into the backpack. "Let's go. I can't stand to listen to them go on."
[to here]
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