LOG: BADOU & HEERO+HEINE+SHINJIRO+RAN FAN+MAYBE YOUR DUDE

[nicotine_patch]

Who: Badou Nails [nicotine_patch], Heine Rammsteiner [strayguns], Heero Yuy [00ne], Aragaki Shinjiro [andmyaxe], Ran Fan [urlefthandgrl]
What: dkjfnskjdngkjsd
When: After THIS SHIT hit the fan
Where: Some random-ass backwoods hallways of S.S Thor
Warnings: KJNDDFMJKDRKJNMDFJKNSDKF
NOTE: If you think your character should be here HIT ME UP on Red x Friday first, please not to be jumping in

Comments

I haven't done prose in awhile SURE WHY NOT

[00ne]

After leaving Duo the meet-up coordinates, Heero sped up to where his instincts told him to go. If Badou was coming from where he thought he might be, then...

He turned and ended up heading him off at the next turn of a hallway- his hand behind him, he was ready to draw his gun just in case- Badou was, to say the least, an unpredictable person. He wasn't taking any chances.

"Going off to act without thinking?"

GDIT

[nicotine_patch]

The redhead's eye darted immediately to Heero's hand, then back up to the other man's face [even now especially now who's hand was on the trigger was the most important fact].

Whatever emotion had been on his face [angerconfusiondistress] shuttered almost instantly. He hadn't even heard the question, could barely hear much above the pounding of his pulse and his own frantic suppositions.

[Maybe it was a game? 'Try to get out of the shit I'm about to land you knee-deep in?' How the fuck- god damnit, why that fucking stupid kid, of all fucking-]

He visibly twitched, scarred hand mirroring Heero's [more crooked but just as ready]. "-What?"

LOL SORRY

[00ne]

For a moment-- just for a moment, Heero's eyes flickered downwards, and there was something, maybe empathy, maybe understanding or one of those just barely readable little things that Badou would be able to pick on were he at his game-- before they flicked back up to rest onto Badou's one, mean eye, his own hardened into something determined.

"Revenge won't bring him back."

[nicotine_patch]

"I know that," spat the smoker, all reaction [all junkyard dog]. He shook himself, although it looked like another twitch, and his hand clenched around the handle of one Mac-10 [teeth clenched around - nothing]. "I don't need no chaperon, Yuy. Back the fuck off. I won't track anything back to your goddamned door."

[00ne]

Heero didn't move a muscle, hand still on the grip of his gun, finger on the trigger- his eyes didn't move either, though they still had those traces of that something in them. He exhaled once, as if coming to a decision.

"Flying off the handle is pointless. Think this through before you go after the culprit. Of course it's expected that you'll attack, distracted and conflicted."

His eyes narrowed, just slightly. The culprit- he was sure Badou knew, but.... could it be.....?

[nicotine_patch]

The sneer on Badou's lips twisted, like it wanted to become something else [Badou had used to want to become something else]. "How the fuck is that different from any other goddamned time? Anybody can snap spines or just fucking snap. I don't need to think anything through."

He advanced a sudden lurch forward, uncharacteristically in Heero's personal space. "This isn't fuckin' coordinates and graphs and whatever the fuck you use to make it all make sense. This is sense."

[00ne]

"He's thinking this through, no matter at what level of sanity. If you go after him like this, fueled by rage, you'll accomplish nothing. This person must be stopped, but in a planned and strategic manner, rather than rushing into it.

Following your emotions is one thing. Being blinded by them is another."

Heero's muscles tightened just slightly at the lurch, but he didn't budge- eyes locked onto Badou's. Unintimidated. That was the game being played, coaxing a feral dog. "Throwing a fit is merely that- throwing a fit. It isn't even a fury without thought behind it."

Sharp. Focused. Considering all the options- that was Heero. The complete opposite, and yet, he felt, exactly what was needed right now- a little bit of order to think things through.

[nicotine_patch]

What became sharp and focused was not Badou's mind, but his expression [hunter-on-prey sharp, killer-on-victim focus]. "You don't get it at all," he rasped suddenly, as if surprised, maybe a little disappointed.

But then he grinned-grimaced. That was just it, wasn't it? That's what had drawn him to Heero in the first place. Chaos to order. Madness to sanity. Yin and fucking Yang - it was so simple and it had taken him all this fucking time!

Who cares. He'd complicate it later. Another lurch closer, trying to pass Heero. "I'll show you some other time maybe. My dance card's all full up tonight, Yuy." A pause, a cock of his head, and then all out of order [because that was how his brain worked, half-tweaked neurons firing off without warning] - "Who said anything about revenge, anyway?"

[00ne]

"Probably not." Badou wasn't exactly easy to get. Impossible, even- to wrap one's mind around the mental processes of a crazed animal, if there were any thought processes at all rather than just action on impulse. He never claimed to understand, anyway. But, at this point, the vitriol being spat at him was little more than that of a child rebelling (against what, was debatable- against order, against him).

He didn't budge when Badou tried to push past him, as if he'd grown roots- but he wasn't, necessarily, trying to block his path, either. "Show me what? Your lack of control, or your injuries incurred from not thinking this through?"

And that was it, wasn't it. Because it was this stupid cycle that he knew, that he was compelled to end, that he'd have to work towards again in this place, or at least had to because he didn't know how to do anything else

[nicotine_patch]

If Heero had stopped him, he might have tried to break his arm, wrapped his finger around the triggers at his hips like coming home and fired off a few rounds like hello, honey.

But he didn't. He was letting him pass, and offering - in his own, anti-social, fucked-up way [because even revolutionary posterchilds have issues] advice. Help, despite all the times he'd bitten that hand that reached out. Just as calmly as Heero had stood fast to take useless bullets for a useless rabies-infested him during that useless riot on the bridge, Heero was calmly stepping aside now.

The meanness in his eye grew distant, for just a moment. Truth forced it's way out, because Heero deserved it. "I need answers first. And then maybe to break his jaw or snap his fucking neck or- I don't fuckin' know. -Violence is the only way some people can actually fuckin' talk. Violence for the sake of communication. Shit." A scarred hand ran through his hair, all tangled up, a rat's wet dream. "...I need to end my part in this. Whatever way it's gotta get ended

[00ne]

The shift in mood was not dramatic but instead just drastic from a moment ago. It was the least he could do, to let him think things through when he needed to, as long as he could at least put into his head, that reminder- too deep and you can't get out. Then again, this probably meant he was already in too deep.

A warning, then, to pull himself back out. The red lights flashing, DANGER DANGER.

There was a moment of thoughtful silence on his part, as Badou tried to articulate himself, got itchy words out through effort. Beats of silence.

"...I know." Did he ever know how some men lived for war, lived to watch the chaos and the destitution of the lower masses, to disrupt and destroy. Men like that were the most dangerous- men like that were the ones that had to be eliminated. Taken down. Eradicated.

Septum. Tsuberov. Dermail. Quinze. Barton.

Destroy the target

It was why he was created, why he was trained, by men just like that. A weapon that backfired on them and instead became a weapon for peace, as anachronistic as it was.

[nicotine_patch]

A grin bared teeth and stretched thin lips, quick as fire in the brush [equally as scalding]. "Alright," he muttered. "Alright."

He gave the other man a lazy soldier salute, and then rested his hands on the holsters at his hips [off to war again]. He turned and started making his way off, calling back, "Seeya around, Yuy."

[00ne]

He considered giving some sort of parting words- "Be careful" or "Don't get yourself killed", something equally gruffly-delivered sympathy- but it was unneeded.

As Badou brushed by, the hand behind him, gripping the gun, slipped something tiny into the giant pocket of that ridiculous pimp-trenchcoat he had on. Well, that was the most he could do. Well, whatever. If the idiot ended up getting himself killed, he'd deal with things then. For now..

He was going to investigate where Luke's body vanished to after being killed. These wormholes and such were getting ridiculous...

OOC

[prayforprey]

YOU BASTARD IS THAT A TRACKER.

OOC

[00ne]

BITCH YOU BET IT IS ♥

Re: OOC

[prayforprey]

GOD FUCK YOU YUY

NOW HE KNOWS WHERE HE'S STAYINGKLSADJFI SHITSHIT BADOU YOU BETTER CATCH DIS BITCH