Been swinging dead animals in a room that's too small...

[ripsouthearts]

Ran didn't know what he expected to see when he drove into Chicago, but as he pulls the stolen car off the main highway onto a small road, he knows he's not impressed. Something smells, and he can practically feel the death radiating from the city's pores

Comments

[fellfrommyheart]

Dylan is still exploring Chicago. She's wondering about how good places are to hide bodies. She's sure there'll be a remote spot somewhere in this park she can use for future reference. Humans are troublesome little thingies. Why do they always seem to care when someone dies, even if they're like, the most horrible and nastiest little human that walks the city? Dylan will never really understand.

But something else catches her attention, there's another Angel very close by, she can feel it! With a joyful grin, she skips along the path until she finally spots him... oh.. uh, ohh... well he's moping! Well, um, that's not very good at all! Never fear, Dylan is on the case!! ... Or something.

"H-hello there!" she greets him brightly, "Um, I felt you around here. So I um, well, came to see who was here. And it's you! You're, like, here! Hi!" she waves friendly. "How, um.. h-how are yooou?"

[ripsouthearts]

This is not something he anticipated. Why the fuck is she talking to him, and where the hell did she come from? He raises an eyebrow, leaning back against the park bench.

Why is she blathering on about feeling him? What does she feel, anyway? He's perfectly aware that he's a little smelly, but he's used to it, and he doesn't think much of it anymore because he can't smell it. He's not big on manners, but pointing out the way he smells is uncommonly rude.

"I'm going to take a bloody bath!" he says, his voice cold, his accent barely audible. He's lived so many places that he doesn't really identify with any of them. He's just Ran. "...and I'm fine," he finishes sulkily, arms across over his chest.

[fellfrommyheart]

Dylan makes a face, "Feel - not smell, you silly billy illy thing!" Yes, she did just say that. Dylan couldn't care less if he smells, she spends a great deal of her time covered in sweat and blood, so... um, well, yeah. She tilts her head to one side and raises her eyebrows.

She looks at him curiously as she sways on the spot. "Don't you um.. like, don't you uh, get what I mean?"

Dylan knoooows he's not fine. Mr. Grumpy Sulky Face! She rubs at the side of her head, mussing up her hair as she does offers him the most awesome and brilliant and brightest of grins. "Don't be, uh, sad and mad and stuff," she tells him, "I'm Dylan!"

[ripsouthearts]

"Ran," he replies almost instinctively. He doesn't know what the hell she just called him, but he assumes that it's not an insult. He decides it's diminutive in nature, like a cute nickname. He's not precisely happy with that, but he can deal. At least she didn't call him a half-breed bastard.

Even if it is true.

"And no. I don't have any fucking idea what you mean," he isn't swearing because he's angry; the foul language is part of his speech pattern. He was raised by the Irish, and fuck is practically second nature. He's curbed it some because high schools don't approve, but when he's out of school he immediately reverts.

Although, the way she's smiling at him freaks him out.

[ilikeyourcake]

Molly just got back to Chicago herself. Soon, she'll make sure to bother her cousin, but right now, she needs something to do to celebrate. Celebrate getting out of rehab that is. Not that she wasn't doing plenty of drugs while in rehab, but still. It's worth celebrating.

Even though she looks like she would celebrate with a shopping spree, she's really not that interested. She spends enough of her time pretending that she's into these kinds of things. Of course, sometimes the persona takes over, but gawd. She has better ideas of what to do with her time

[ripsouthearts]

When she speaks, he imagines himself slowly strangling her. There would be popping noises and blood spurting, and he'd finally get some fucking peace. He wonders if he just screams 'ask me stupid questions?' or if it's just his lucky day. At any rate, he does his usual routine of imagining exactly what she looks like

[ilikeyourcake]

Eye-fluttering and posturing is important to Molly's research. In order to fully understand how people handle the conflicting information (and to further understand how to manipulate and teach society to swallow lies even if they conflict with already known information), she has to be Miss Valley Girl, at least, until she's not too old to pull it off. Dressing like a slut, however, makes her rather uncomfortable, so she tries to dress adorable instead. As far as she can tell, this is an appropriate subset of sorority girl culture. Hence the ponytails.

"Like, not now," Molly says. "But you were like, totally looking up my skirt and stuff earlier. Oh my gawd, why do they even like let people like you out in public? That's like, grody to the max. I should like, totally go and find a police officer or something because like, seriously, like having you out here is like, totally not safe and stuff. And besides, you're like totally pushing on my bitchin' style."

[ripsouthearts]

He glances up, seeing her out of the corner of his eye. Japanese, like himself, and not at all what he expected. This is unusual, because normally Ran can pinpoint what someone looks like based on their voice. He's always been rather proud of his perceptiveness in that regard, but today he has failed, and quite spectacularly.

"Fine. Your skirt. It was just so fucking cute I couldn't resist," He mutters sarcastically, too tired to smack her. Besides, the general populace seems to frown on hitting women, something he can never understand. Women can hit back just the same as men can, but he never gets in trouble for punching a man. People just coo at him and assume he was being abused. Just because he's short doesn't mean he's weak and powerless.

Eventually he might use that to his advantage, but for now he just wants to wallow.