07 [Accidental Video]
[The feed flips on to show a strange and unique landscape which fills the screen...sideways. The "sky"--which isn't really a sky at all, despite its uniform luminous blue and its puffy wisps of cotton-wool clouds--takes up the left half of the screen, while a pale blond expanse of sandy ground takes up the right.
Not bare ground, mind, despite how oddly smooth and even the surface is (not at all like the dusty reddish sand and scrubby vegetation of the landscape around death city). This looks more like beach sand, or maybe, like the "sky", it's not even really sand at all.
Whatever it is, it's clear what the landscape is peppered with: crosses as far as the eye can see. Most of them simple and black, as of wrought iron. Some of them stand at odd angles, as though age has slanted them. And though some look old, they don't look weathered.
This, a few who have seen it before may recognize, is the Death Room. But it's not Death the Kid who appears on the screen (at this angle? No way). Instead it's Badou, his red hair tied back out of his face and his trademark cigarette between his lips, though currently unlit. The communicator has apparently fallen out of his pocket, and as it's on the side of his bad eye, he hasn't noticed it there broadcasting.
He is dusting off the surface of the nearest cross--one which looks newer than many of the rest--rubbing it with a cloth. He then reaches into his shirt pocket and pulls out a box which is actually not his pack of smokes. So I brought this deck of cards. Look, I'll deal you a hand. You can play a little Five Card Stud with Eggberts two-through-five over there, yeah? [He glances at the cards.] No, you don't want that hand. Wait. Here, this one's better. Give it a go.
[And he sets the fan of playing cards against the cross's base and then steps back to survey his handiwork, suddenly noticing his communicator where it lays on the ground. He picks it up, righting the picture.]
Oh hey, sorry about that. Don't suppose anyone knows where I could get some packs of those whatchacallem's--Garbage Pail Kids--or something like that?
[OOC: So some of you might remember this and this. For those of you who don't, the short short version: Badou didn't want to eat souls. He and Al tried to find a solution. Al's since been sent home, but this is the solution and Badou's now in it for keeps.
Also, please consider this to be sometime in the morning on the 23rd. Derp derp.]
Not bare ground, mind, despite how oddly smooth and even the surface is (not at all like the dusty reddish sand and scrubby vegetation of the landscape around death city). This looks more like beach sand, or maybe, like the "sky", it's not even really sand at all.
Whatever it is, it's clear what the landscape is peppered with: crosses as far as the eye can see. Most of them simple and black, as of wrought iron. Some of them stand at odd angles, as though age has slanted them. And though some look old, they don't look weathered.
This, a few who have seen it before may recognize, is the Death Room. But it's not Death the Kid who appears on the screen (at this angle? No way). Instead it's Badou, his red hair tied back out of his face and his trademark cigarette between his lips, though currently unlit. The communicator has apparently fallen out of his pocket, and as it's on the side of his bad eye, he hasn't noticed it there broadcasting.
He is dusting off the surface of the nearest cross--one which looks newer than many of the rest--rubbing it with a cloth. He then reaches into his shirt pocket and pulls out a box which is actually not his pack of smokes. So I brought this deck of cards. Look, I'll deal you a hand. You can play a little Five Card Stud with Eggberts two-through-five over there, yeah? [He glances at the cards.] No, you don't want that hand. Wait. Here, this one's better. Give it a go.
[And he sets the fan of playing cards against the cross's base and then steps back to survey his handiwork, suddenly noticing his communicator where it lays on the ground. He picks it up, righting the picture.]
Oh hey, sorry about that. Don't suppose anyone knows where I could get some packs of those whatchacallem's--Garbage Pail Kids--or something like that?
[OOC: So some of you might remember this and this. For those of you who don't, the short short version: Badou didn't want to eat souls. He and Al tried to find a solution. Al's since been sent home, but this is the solution and Badou's now in it for keeps.
Also, please consider this to be sometime in the morning on the 23rd. Derp derp.]