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."

[and_my_ax]

He ran with nothing but rage and questions fueling the muscles in his legs. He had a location, a slight lead at best, and one that was going to be gone very shortly. Another one fucking dead because of him. Another innocent life, cut short. He didn't know the victim, he only saw him in passing, but the two letters, spelled out clear as day, were enough to force his involvement.

BN.

B fucking N.

He took the maintenance passageways that he knew so well, staying out of sight of the refugees. They'd already be skittish with the feed airing plain as day on the network. They didn't need an axe wielding vagrant making things worse.

He kicked through a door and was in the recreation district making his way towards the bars. He knew that Badou didn't do the shooting. He was the true target. The poor kid that got blown away? He was just the ink for the warrant Shinji was mentally placing on Badou's head.

He was going to get answers tonight, and he didn't care how he did it.

[urlefthandgrl]

Ran Fan was tailing the feel of Badou's chi, sliding through the maintenance corridors and air ducts like a shadow. She was gaining on him, she could feel it. Badou was fast-- she'd guessed him to be the type to put on some mad speed when necessary-- but he wasn't a shinobi.

She was running through her mental list of who might have been responsible. She already thought that that Heine person and that weird monk person were suspicious. Envy wouldn't have used a gun, he liked killing in different ways. Same for Wrath and Lust. There were tons of people that she didn't know, and she knew Badou had a lot of unsavory acquaintances... could be a lot of people. But honestly, that wasn't really for her to find out, she told herself. She should humbly find her quarry, that was what she was best at. No thinking.

Footsteps were pounding behind her, closer and closer. Shinjiro. She could feel his chi now, too. So much for stealth, they way he was running like an elephant, there was no chance of sneaking up on anything. She turned back, running

[and_my_ax]

Shinjiro slowed only part way, his cold, steel eyes flashing in recognition at Ran Fan.

"Where." He half asked, half demanded. He didn't want her to stick around for this. Badou knew too much about him, too much about his past, his reasons for the things he did. If Badou said anything, if he opened his mouth.

If he opened his fucking mouth...

He growled low, and continued on, knowing that he didn't have a choice in the matter anymore. At the very least, Ran Fan was his backup. She'd be there if things went awry. At least now, he had a better chance of getting to the bottom of this.

If that bastard opened his mouth, Shinjiro was going to close it one way or another.

[urlefthandgrl]

Ran Fan didn't feel the need to tell Shinjiro verbally, she dashed off in the direction she was feeling the glow of Badou's chi in. He'd put two and two together, he was a warrior too.

Through a set of steel doors, careening down a dark corridor and then a sharp right-- fuck, she had to slow down to let him keep up-- Comeon. Comeoncomeoncomeon.

Trying to hold her speed back, Ran Fan led him down another dank passageway, leaping between boilers and pipes. Then they turned a corner onto a wide corridor, and there Badou was, running in the darkness ahead of them. Ran Fan had a kunai out before she could even see, ready to protect herself.

[strayguns]

Heine had only briefly taken the time to assess people's reactions before leaving off in search of Badou. Not finding him in his room, he'd continued along the ship, darting through the halls with a hand on one of his guns, the other hovering close to it. Whoever did this had been smart; leaving a note like this would distract a few people, lead them off elsewhere. It was unlikely that he was the only one after Badou at the moment, he concluded, so he kept his eyes trained for someone that looked like they were running with a purpose, rather than panic or confusion.

Whatever shitpit Badou had fallen into again, he'd managed to drag in half the occupants of the ship. Classic.

He heard the familiar stomp of the boots before he saw him, his irritation growing. Was Badou really that stupid? Heine was all for thrills and danger, but there had to be a line somewhere. His idiot of a partner (stupid word, he thought) never ceased to cross it.

Some things never change, he thought, nearly snarling as he shoved some maintenance robot aside

[nicotine_patch]

The redhead's blind eye was turned to Heine as he kept running. "A demon in holy man's clothing," he barked harshly, saving his breath. Heine didn't need to get involved with this - this wasn't business, this was personal. And they had always kept those two things very, very fucking mutually exclusive. As much as they could, that is [sometimes Badou suspected - no, Badou knew - that every wound inflicted on them both held secrets, held personal information, all hidden in the scabbing tissue].

This had him rasping, rather abstractly given the situation, but truthfully nonetheless, "Dunno what I'm gonna do yet."

[strayguns]

"Don't make this worse than it already is," Heine said, probably uselessly. By the busy sounds of the ship, things had already progressed from bad to worse. Besides, Badou probably didn't even know how not to make things worse. It might be normal for him, for both of them, the usual, same old same old, but that was obviously not how the majority of the refugees saw the entire ordeal.

And something in the way Badou held himself told Heine this wasn't another cold, uninvolved thing.

"There are probably others after you," he thought to add, as a warning or a threat, he wasn't sure. He felt oddly calm, himself, which pissed him off. He wanted to feel the thrill that comes gunshots and the smell of blood spilling, he wanted to get in a proper fight and feel his guns go off in his hands, smelling the gun smoke and almost feeling the bullets pierce through another's flesh. He was getting the itch, and if Badou told him to fuck off he might just tell him to do so right back (though, of course, he has no way of knowing what awaits, nor the

[nicotine_patch]

Abruptly, the redhead swerved to a stop, boots skidding grime along the floor. "This is the wrong fuckin' way!" he crowed, as if inspiration had suddenly struck him like lighting from skies they'd never even seen. As he caught his breath, for the first time, he took in Heine's own bearing, unsurprised by the restlessness he found. There was no physical marker, really, only the intuitionimpulse one could pick up on over a soon-to-be corpse.

Heine was past ready to fuck some shit up.

Badou's lungs were low on nicotine and his brain was thrumming with violence. Everything was simplifying. Forget the corpse [Lu-] for a minute. Forget the goddamned Monk for a second. Forget, most of all, the peace that'd been on the station before Underground animals of all shapes and sizes [sharps and incisors] had invaded it. "People know you're connected to me," he rasped, a simple fact. "They'll be after you too."

He grinned suddenly, wide and wild, a junkie-got-his-fix smirk. Don't you get it, don't you get it? "Do you got any idea how fun bein'