Jensen is strolling through Xanadu wearing a juvenile t-shirt as he does. He notices the man in the agora and runs quickly over to him. The strange man looks like he's had better days and Jensen immediately has a single question on his mind.
It's a testament to Face's utter disregard for anything like body consciousness that he really considers this swap for a moment. Then he's reminded that most places frown on public nudity, and that as cool a t-shirt as it may be, it won't do anything to cover the tender dangly bits. Which he's rather protective of, in addition to the whole public nudity issue.
"Nah, I'm good, but thanks for the offer." He stands and adjusts the towel, taking in his surroundings. "So...I'm feeling like I might be at a disadvantage here. Where exactly is here?"
"Newbie?" A look of confusion passes across Jensen's face, then complete joy. "Holy hell, this is fantastic!" He is pretty much never looked to as the voice of reason (not without justification, mind you) and this was kind of a big deal.
"Fantastic that I can pass on my infinite knowledge. Not fantastic that you're all dirty and whatever." He extends an arm as if to showcase the vastness of the nexus. "This, my scantily clad friend, is Xanadu. It's a legit city that's part of an interdimensional hub. People from all over time and space drop by. It's fun."
Hasibe makes her way over, kneeling next to him with her dress skirt tucked around her legs to maintain modesty (given it's a short dress, it's only halfway successful, but that's successful enough), maintaining, despite the circumstances, a sort of bright-eyed vivacity about her. She pushes her hair back behind her shoulder so it doesn't drop in his face, maintaining enough distance to not be presumptuous, but she is definitely concerned.
"Quite an entrance," she says, "are you okay? Not concussed?"
"With a different towel?" Hasi asks, lightly. She straightens up, and offers him a hand to help pull him to his feet. "And I'm not the welcoming committee, but I am very used to this place, so I guess I suffice as a tour guide."
Hearing something familiar - which is leading to seeing something familiar - Remy is distracted from his reverie (which is what we're calling scheming a heist today) to investigate what the fuck Jack has gotten himself into this time. Because, really, getting hurled out of somebody's house mostly-naked doesn't exactly shock him, for Jack. Right? Right. Not that he's seen him around at all lately. And not that he talks exactly like that.
... Something is off.
Hello, Face, have a huge guy with glowing red eyes staring at you quizzically, like you are some kind of really peculiar zoo exhibit. What could be going on here.
oh god it's late I think this might just be babblewherestheplanNovember 24 2010, 09:47:41 UTC
"Okay, wow, that's...very creepy, with the Eyes of Satan there." Face tosses the guy his patented 'who, me?' smile of total innocence and harmlessness. "I'd say this isn't what it looks like, but it pretty much is what it looks like."
It's not that he feels threatened, exactly. It's just that he's a little on the naked and unarmed side here, in a strange place, and he's sure not going to be winning any staring contests with this guy.
OH THAT'S RIGHT, I RP SOMETIMES /epic fucking failurebangyoudeadDecember 4 2010, 07:03:40 UTC
"Eyes o'what, homme?" Yes, that is.. certainly an accent of some kind, there. Not that Remy did not hear him perfectly clear - maybe he just likes to screw around with people a bit here and there. (Maybe. Yeah.)
By now he's pretty sure this isn't Jack (who he think he owes a good right hook to on principle, so that's probably for the best) or, at least, not the Jack he knows. "What's your name? Don't worry none 'bout showin' up here. Happens all the time."
It may be far off, but yes, oh yes, that voice, it is unmistakable.
"Face!"
Murdock is dressed seasonally, by which it is meant he's got on a ballcap avec felt turkey head and tail, the usual bomber jacket, a scarf and a t-shirt that indicates one should Get Stuffed. Also, you know, pants and stuff. He happens to be holding street-meat, as well-a big ol' hot dog, not some other hideous thing-and from a distance he runs toward his associate as quickly as one can while trying not to fling condiments all over the place.
"Face!"
This moment of earnest disbelief is genuine and in no way does his tone or expression change when he says, just as excited, "Where's your pants!"
ILU /lols foreverwherestheplanNovember 24 2010, 09:52:47 UTC
Oh thank god. In a normal situation, much as the guy does grow on you, Murdock wouldn't necessarily be Face's first choice for a rescue. But in this case he's probably the least likely to find anything weird enough about the situation to hold it over Face's head for the rest of his life.
He opens his mouth to explain, realizes he's not entirely sure himself, and just shakes his head. "You don't want to know." A pause, while he processes what exactly is bothering him about this picture. "There's a turkey on your head."
yakety sax was playing while i tried to tag you, basicallyhowlinmadNovember 24 2010, 10:14:23 UTC
"I know!" Look at him! He's so excited! Wild gesticulation! Onions fly! "And you're here! This is great!" Exclamation points!! "Didja just drop in?"
And before the poor guy can even answer, he notices he's still holding a hot dog... "Oh, sorry, I was just grabbin' lunch. You want some?" ...with which he then gestures toward Face's...face, like the guy's actually going to take a bite. Like this has ever worked in the past.
Comments 15
"Hey man, cool towel! Wanna swap?"
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"Nah, I'm good, but thanks for the offer." He stands and adjusts the towel, taking in his surroundings. "So...I'm feeling like I might be at a disadvantage here. Where exactly is here?"
Reply
"Fantastic that I can pass on my infinite knowledge. Not fantastic that you're all dirty and whatever." He extends an arm as if to showcase the vastness of the nexus. "This, my scantily clad friend, is Xanadu. It's a legit city that's part of an interdimensional hub. People from all over time and space drop by. It's fun."
Reply
Well, that's bound to attract Hasi's attention.
Hasibe makes her way over, kneeling next to him with her dress skirt tucked around her legs to maintain modesty (given it's a short dress, it's only halfway successful, but that's successful enough), maintaining, despite the circumstances, a sort of bright-eyed vivacity about her. She pushes her hair back behind her shoulder so it doesn't drop in his face, maintaining enough distance to not be presumptuous, but she is definitely concerned.
"Quite an entrance," she says, "are you okay? Not concussed?"
Reply
"Actually, I am completely stunned. Are you the welcoming committee? Because if so, I just might have to leave and come back again."
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"With a different towel?" Hasi asks, lightly. She straightens up, and offers him a hand to help pull him to his feet. "And I'm not the welcoming committee, but I am very used to this place, so I guess I suffice as a tour guide."
Reply
Wendy Watson might not sound impressed, but she is. People do get used to that.
"Man in a bath towel, only a bath towel. Best. Day. Ever." Beat. "Bet not for you."
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Seriously, not even close. Okay sure, there's the whole grit-near-the-delicate-parts thing, but that's not even a first.
And on the plus side, hot chicks.
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"Need a hand there, or, you know, pants?"
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Huh.
That's interesting.
Hearing something familiar - which is leading to seeing something familiar - Remy is distracted from his reverie (which is what we're calling scheming a heist today) to investigate what the fuck Jack has gotten himself into this time. Because, really, getting hurled out of somebody's house mostly-naked doesn't exactly shock him, for Jack. Right? Right. Not that he's seen him around at all lately. And not that he talks exactly like that.
... Something is off.
Hello, Face, have a huge guy with glowing red eyes staring at you quizzically, like you are some kind of really peculiar zoo exhibit. What could be going on here.
Reply
It's not that he feels threatened, exactly. It's just that he's a little on the naked and unarmed side here, in a strange place, and he's sure not going to be winning any staring contests with this guy.
Reply
"Eyes o'what, homme?" Yes, that is.. certainly an accent of some kind, there. Not that Remy did not hear him perfectly clear - maybe he just likes to screw around with people a bit here and there. (Maybe. Yeah.)
By now he's pretty sure this isn't Jack (who he think he owes a good right hook to on principle, so that's probably for the best) or, at least, not the Jack he knows. "What's your name? Don't worry none 'bout showin' up here. Happens all the time."
... Comforting.
Reply
It may be far off, but yes, oh yes, that voice, it is unmistakable.
"Face!"
Murdock is dressed seasonally, by which it is meant he's got on a ballcap avec felt turkey head and tail, the usual bomber jacket, a scarf and a t-shirt that indicates one should Get Stuffed. Also, you know, pants and stuff. He happens to be holding street-meat, as well-a big ol' hot dog, not some other hideous thing-and from a distance he runs toward his associate as quickly as one can while trying not to fling condiments all over the place.
"Face!"
This moment of earnest disbelief is genuine and in no way does his tone or expression change when he says, just as excited, "Where's your pants!"
Reply
He opens his mouth to explain, realizes he's not entirely sure himself, and just shakes his head. "You don't want to know." A pause, while he processes what exactly is bothering him about this picture. "There's a turkey on your head."
Reply
And before the poor guy can even answer, he notices he's still holding a hot dog... "Oh, sorry, I was just grabbin' lunch. You want some?" ...with which he then gestures toward Face's...face, like the guy's actually going to take a bite. Like this has ever worked in the past.
Reply
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