(no subject)
Who: Duo Maxwell (pilot_zero_two) & Badou Nails (nicotine_patch/junkyardpup).
When: Badou's second day of tot-hood.
Where: Hallways/arcade/PLACE HERE.
Rating: PG-13/R.
Summary: IDK SHUT UP LOTS OF AWESOME
Warnings: Oh my god this is the first time I got to use a PG-13 rating.
After agreeing to meet Duo at the arcade, Badou spent a decent amount of time just peering around the crack of the door. He'd gone through the contents of the room thoroughly, finding nothing useful, and nothing that told him anything; nothing familiar except the lingering stench of cigarettes. There had been cartons stowed in the drawers, and he'd pocketed a lighter and a pack of the smokes [he didn't know why; it wasn't as if his brother were here to smoke them].
Finally, when the coast seemed clear, he ducked out into the hallway, his body language passing him off as smaller than he was [he was lanky for his age, getting more colt-like and bony with every passing year]. He kept his head down but his two grey-green eyes up, scanning for signs of danger. This place was so quiet, unlike the cacophonous City, and it had him on edge, just waiting for something to happen. At least in the city, you heard the gunshotsyellsalarms, the badness, before you saw it. This place was all creeping silence, and Badou didn't like it one bit.
People had been talking about experiments, about real crazy, screwed up shit that had happened, and Badou didn't intend to become a victim [his brother's photographs came up in his mind's eye- the kids looked so dirty and scared]. People hadn't been making any damn sense.
Duo had made sense, but coming out into the wide open was making less and less sense as Badou entered the stairwell, getting further away from the room with the cigarettes. The back of his neck prickled with anxiety, and he went so fast down the steps he nearly toppled down them. He heard the dragging of undead feet [either ahead or behind him, he couldn't tell], and a rush of fear told him to forget this, forget that kid, and go the hell back to where he felt at least kind-of safe [the room that smelled like ash and poison, like Dave].
When: Badou's second day of tot-hood.
Where: Hallways/arcade/PLACE HERE.
Rating: PG-13/R.
Summary: IDK SHUT UP LOTS OF AWESOME
Warnings: Oh my god this is the first time I got to use a PG-13 rating.
After agreeing to meet Duo at the arcade, Badou spent a decent amount of time just peering around the crack of the door. He'd gone through the contents of the room thoroughly, finding nothing useful, and nothing that told him anything; nothing familiar except the lingering stench of cigarettes. There had been cartons stowed in the drawers, and he'd pocketed a lighter and a pack of the smokes [he didn't know why; it wasn't as if his brother were here to smoke them].
Finally, when the coast seemed clear, he ducked out into the hallway, his body language passing him off as smaller than he was [he was lanky for his age, getting more colt-like and bony with every passing year]. He kept his head down but his two grey-green eyes up, scanning for signs of danger. This place was so quiet, unlike the cacophonous City, and it had him on edge, just waiting for something to happen. At least in the city, you heard the gunshotsyellsalarms, the badness, before you saw it. This place was all creeping silence, and Badou didn't like it one bit.
People had been talking about experiments, about real crazy, screwed up shit that had happened, and Badou didn't intend to become a victim [his brother's photographs came up in his mind's eye- the kids looked so dirty and scared]. People hadn't been making any damn sense.
Duo had made sense, but coming out into the wide open was making less and less sense as Badou entered the stairwell, getting further away from the room with the cigarettes. The back of his neck prickled with anxiety, and he went so fast down the steps he nearly toppled down them. He heard the dragging of undead feet [either ahead or behind him, he couldn't tell], and a rush of fear told him to forget this, forget that kid, and go the hell back to where he felt at least kind-of safe [the room that smelled like ash and poison, like Dave].