CLOSED LOG ☆ BADOU&GENKAKU&NAMINE ❝these arms did swim, until the lungs pulled in❞
Who: prayforprey, nicotine_patch, & howsketchy
What: Perfume plot, lost memories.
When: WHEN THAT SHIT WENT DOWN
Where: The Shack, the slums.
Warnings: CUSSIN', little girls and crazypants hanging out.
( and we sink, and we drown, & what is lost can never be found )
What: Perfume plot, lost memories.
When: WHEN THAT SHIT WENT DOWN
Where: The Shack, the slums.
Warnings: CUSSIN', little girls and crazypants hanging out.
( and we sink, and we drown, & what is lost can never be found )
Nah, he's here.
[how long he's been lilting in that doorway to the Restricted Section listening to their conversation (Badou's adorable yammering mouth would have gotten him points under other circumstances) is up for anyone's guess; in the public, he is wild and loud and announces his presence promptly, but in his own home and in his own den, he's more of a passing black and red shadow casting where it pleases no matter how angled the light]
[the passing look he gives his best friend is... strange. something that isn't quite betrayal, doesn't demand an explanation, but certainly makes a note of flighty displeasure (discomfort? vulnerability?)]
[his hand lingers on the doorknob and slams closed to the final parting view of rumpled sheets and a guitar amp -- it's not unfriendly, and it's the same kindness Ritsuka, as the only other visitor, had received]
[making his way to the low-rise couch, he's quick to pluck a rolled joint from One Of Them Drawers and light it up, inhaling with a clear purpose]
[to Namine;]
What brings you this way?
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