closed & incomplete.
WHO: Reno/stray_redbird, Axel/axelled.
WHAT: :)
WHERE: Kitty's old place.
WHEN: Evening, on Halloween.
He'd seriously considered swinging to headquarters to pick up a bulletproof vest before heading over to Grimmjow's old place. He was a pretty lucky bastard, as far as slipping out of harm's way went, but even a reckless asshole like Reno wasn't going to take a bullet if he didn't have to. Or, if Lockon had his way, multiple bullets. And sitting around waiting for bullet holes to heal wasn't exactly the way he wanted to spend his fucking weekend.
But in the end, a combination of rebelliousness and laziness had taken over, and he'd taken Beatrice straight there. He'd killed the engine a little distance away-- fuck, if anybody scratched the paint, he'd shove his foot up their ass so fast they wouldn't even have time to cry for mommy-- and walked across the lawn on foot.
His steps were a little cautious-- who knew if Lockon or that nag Tieria had set up fucking booby traps or something-- but miraculously, he made it to the side of the house without losing any valuable body parts. He crouched for a second, squatting and inclining his head to consider a window on the second floor. Reno knew that room, even though he'd only seen the inside of it once-- and promptly had been dragged out of it, not long after getting in.
He took a second to light a cigarette, drawing one out from the back pocket of his jeans along with his lucky lighter. Flick, flick. The faint flame lit up the lines and angles of his face for a moment before it settled into a gentle glow. He inhaled. Exhaled. Then, he stood up, picking a rock up off the ground and testing its weight.
Winding up like a baseball pitcher, he tossed the rock at that window.
WHAT: :)
WHERE: Kitty's old place.
WHEN: Evening, on Halloween.
He'd seriously considered swinging to headquarters to pick up a bulletproof vest before heading over to Grimmjow's old place. He was a pretty lucky bastard, as far as slipping out of harm's way went, but even a reckless asshole like Reno wasn't going to take a bullet if he didn't have to. Or, if Lockon had his way, multiple bullets. And sitting around waiting for bullet holes to heal wasn't exactly the way he wanted to spend his fucking weekend.
But in the end, a combination of rebelliousness and laziness had taken over, and he'd taken Beatrice straight there. He'd killed the engine a little distance away-- fuck, if anybody scratched the paint, he'd shove his foot up their ass so fast they wouldn't even have time to cry for mommy-- and walked across the lawn on foot.
His steps were a little cautious-- who knew if Lockon or that nag Tieria had set up fucking booby traps or something-- but miraculously, he made it to the side of the house without losing any valuable body parts. He crouched for a second, squatting and inclining his head to consider a window on the second floor. Reno knew that room, even though he'd only seen the inside of it once-- and promptly had been dragged out of it, not long after getting in.
He took a second to light a cigarette, drawing one out from the back pocket of his jeans along with his lucky lighter. Flick, flick. The faint flame lit up the lines and angles of his face for a moment before it settled into a gentle glow. He inhaled. Exhaled. Then, he stood up, picking a rock up off the ground and testing its weight.
Winding up like a baseball pitcher, he tossed the rock at that window.