(Untitled)

[thanoodles]

Comments

[switchgun]

[Pulls over with her Harley Davidson - plus sidecart! - and lights up a cigarette.]

[Feels right at home!]

[fabguns]

Those things will kill you, girl. And give you bad teeth.

[switchgun]

I gotta feeling the jobs you give me will kill me faster. What's up, 'don, been restocking?

[fabguns]

Oh, pu-leaze. My jobs are easy pie. They don't damage lungs. [ Not directly, at least. ]

You know me. Always looking for the best merchandising around.

[eeeeeeeeeaou]

[wantsakitteh]

[Dead eyes.

No, seriously, dead eyeing this and rubbing one sharp grey eye at this scenery]

... my god, I am so stoned.

[ohbloodyay]

[YOU WANT A KITTY?

HAVE A WOLF

... BOY]

You are?

[wantsakitteh]

Aren't I? Dude, have you looked around?

[He is, mostly, wishfully thinking]

[ohbloodyay]

'Course I have. [But he doesn't smell anything on the guy, so he might as well break it to him.] Nobody's stoned, they're sick.

test driving lalala

[lastnightisaw]

[Unimpressed. That's the current reaction. His trip to London was to meet with -- well -- the operative London, so the interrupted train voyage due to 'problems beyond our power' and the subsequent, personal improvisation bring him to a very unpleasant surprise. It doesn't quite feel real, to be honest, something he should know very well about. Maybe it's just a dream.

He is an unremarkable man in his thirties with tired but watchful eyes today. A cheap business suit with a dull necktie, briefcase in his left hand, dark golden hair and darker eyes.]

[torontroll]

[ These British agents are all sour dudes. At least, that's what Maude thinks. Come on, the world is a mess and they are supposed to protect it (somehow, she didn't get that part straight), being unimpressed is hardly going to help.

Tilting her hat up, flicking it, she turns to him and whistles low. ]

Damn, huh?

[lastnightisaw]

[He has to take a moment to observe her (it's very important for him to observe people, as I'm sure you understand) -- white hair, characteristic lips and brows, broad shoulders.

His eyes widen a little, preluding a heavy sigh with a frown.]

A good word for it.

[and he looks back at... whatever is beyond them, frowning, wondering how long he's been out of contact.]

What happened?

[torontroll]

[ She clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth; not a good word, but, hey, whatever suits his fancy. A good word would be "godshitdamnjesuschrist", but that's not really a word.

It would work, though. ]

Why are you asking me? [ She's a newbie, after all. ] I thought you guys knew everything. [ By "you guys" she means the British Order. ]

[matriotism]

[ Nope, not noticing any difference. In fact, she is lounging on a cemetery, sitting on a tombstone while petting her doberman. Just chilling. ]

[goneandgone]

[BIG EYES AT DOGGY]

Wicked!

[matriotism]

[ The dogs hears the little boy first, but not much sooner than the monster. She lifts her eyes up at the tiny figure and makes a face; a little boy. Aren't children supposed to be afraid of cemeteries and all of those things?

Hm.

She will just stare in an unsettling, unblinkingly manner at him. ]

[goneandgone]

[He's too concentrated on the dog to notice; has never seen a cemetery before and is blissfully unaware of what the names carved on stone mean.]

Where'd you find it?