ext_201936 (
pleading-ngri.livejournal.com) wrote in
damned_institute2008-11-24 12:40 pm
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Entry tags:
- aidou,
- allelujah,
- badou,
- batman,
- brook,
- captain america,
- claude,
- demyx,
- eddie brock,
- fai,
- forte,
- guy,
- harry osborn,
- homura,
- hughes,
- itachi,
- kaiji,
- kenshin,
- kristoph,
- kurogane,
- luxord,
- matsuda,
- mello,
- mikami,
- near,
- peter petrelli,
- phoenix,
- rude,
- sanosuke,
- sanzo,
- scar (tlk),
- schuldig,
- siegfried,
- teisel,
- the flash,
- tokito,
- tony stark,
- tyki,
- valyn,
- xellos,
- xigbar,
- yohji,
- yue,
- zelnick,
- zex
Day 37: Men's Showers
I wouldn't really call this a locker room. More like a bathroom with lockers. The place was uncomfortably crowded, with almost every adult male patient being hustled into the showers at once, but Phoenix wasn't as annoyed by the claustrophobic, milling throng of bodies as he might have otherwise been. Every extra person was one more person who might end up standing between himself and Edgeworth.
He knew that the prosecutor would have a fit if he found out about this. He'd known since he'd tacked that first response up on the bulletin board. And in a way, he couldn't blame him. Phoenix knew that he jumped into things all-or-nothing more often than most people. At the same time, he had some kind of reality testing. He wasn't going to learn the basics of how to defend himself and suddenly decide that he was Rambo.
He found an unoccupied locker in the southwest corner and glanced around, trying to gauge how long he could possibly stall in a locker room, looking as if he was expecting something, before people started looking at him strangely. It would have been easier if he'd known something of the description of the man he was supposed to be meeting. As it was, all he had was handwriting and a military rank, neither of which guaranteed any particular appearance.
It's not as if there was a better way to plan this, though. "Yeah, meet me by the lockers. I'll be wearing gray and a smiley face, just like about a hundred other guys."
[for Hughes]
He knew that the prosecutor would have a fit if he found out about this. He'd known since he'd tacked that first response up on the bulletin board. And in a way, he couldn't blame him. Phoenix knew that he jumped into things all-or-nothing more often than most people. At the same time, he had some kind of reality testing. He wasn't going to learn the basics of how to defend himself and suddenly decide that he was Rambo.
He found an unoccupied locker in the southwest corner and glanced around, trying to gauge how long he could possibly stall in a locker room, looking as if he was expecting something, before people started looking at him strangely. It would have been easier if he'd known something of the description of the man he was supposed to be meeting. As it was, all he had was handwriting and a military rank, neither of which guaranteed any particular appearance.
It's not as if there was a better way to plan this, though. "Yeah, meet me by the lockers. I'll be wearing gray and a smiley face, just like about a hundred other guys."
[for Hughes]
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"Very true, that." The blond nodded in agreement, wrapping an arm around the man's shoulder more to hide the fact he was trying not to burst out laughing (oh, II. He just didn't know how to quit you) than anything else. "And it is always in the English nature to be kind to your..."conversational" partners. Are you implying I should betray my heritage simply for your benefit? Can't say that is very tolerant of you, now is it?"
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As things were, the Jaws theme had just started playing in his head. Badtouch was imminent. And while just about every other part of Badou's brain had short circuited, his mouth was doing just fine. Probably better than usual without those pesky limitations like 'self-preservation' and 'common sense'.
He had sort of just stopped listening to what they were saying and started humming the Jaws theme because like hell his attention span was going to go that far when Old Man Eyepatch was making him the bitch. "Wha? I don't speak ponce. This really sucks. You're the first fags I've had in five days. I really need a smoke. I dunno if your world has them, but cigarettes. You know, little cylinders full of poison -" He glanced down at Luxord's endowments. "Bigger than Priscilla Jr. down there, usually."
no subject
as ifand carrying on, and pardon Xigbar for thinking as such, but normally it took a little more effort to discombobulate someone. Either Badou was real out there, or Xigbar was just that good.However, Badou had left himself
spreadopen, and Xigbar laughed as he leaned in, gazing into the dude's one good eye. "Yeah, we've got 'em. Normally I have mine after, though." The only thing that kept him from moving in was becausePriscilla JuniorLuxord's assets had been called into question, and the Freeshooter had be be ready to get out of shanking distance at a moment's notice.trufax: this took about ten minutes to type out because I couldn't stop laughing
...
What.
It was not the insult that made the Gambler take a step back and cease his teasing, as X knew he was absolutely perfect in every way and the redhead was obviously jealous. No, it was the fact that a complete stranger had went and named his penis Priscilla.
Yes, he could say it. Or think it, as the case may be. It was just a word.That? That was not right.
He wasn't about to take that without giving something in return. The blond crossed his arms over his chest and glared, not amused. "I could, of course, ignore such barbs and continue with this game, but as you are incapable of handling such a foul trick for more than a minute without breaking down into lesser brain functions, I shall find it in myself to release you, though not out of pity or sympathy or any such emotion. I've simply come to terms that you and Mushu do not deserve my attention."
That name would require some backstory, but he wasn't about to give it. II could tell him about the tiny, ineffectual red lizard if he wished.
no subject
"I'm not asking for your attention!" Badou shot back, having re-acquired some of his upper brain function with only one person trying to rape him now. He wasn't kidding about the cigarette thing though. He really, really needed a smoke right now. And Xigbar's eye was really yellow. Like a cigarette filter. Almost. Close enough. Mmm Xigbar's eye. Despite the proximity, Badou perked right up at the mention of cigarettes and their existence. "Really? You've got one? And a lighter?"
Never mind that Xigbar probably meant on his world. Badou was having a brief moment of illusory happiness.
no subject
Still, Xigbar grinned and nodded his head, lying through his teeth and yet sounding amazingly convincing about it. "Nabbed a pack, yeah. Hafta use matches, though; dunno if there are any lighters floating around." In his opinion, working up Badou's hopes and then crushing them would be not just fair for what he'd done to Luxord, but also a heck of a laugh in the bargain.
no subject
...that mental image was simply disturbing and he was going to pretend it never happened.
When Xigbar's lying came into question, however, the Gambler wasted no time joining in. "Ah," he interjected, raising his hand to make an imaginary point, "I've a lighter, do you not recall? Dearest Noah gave it as a gift before he passed." He crossed his arms and tilted his head upwards, as if thinking about it. "Never truly had a use for it, really."
no subject
no subject
He turned to Badou, tapping his chin and grinning at the other guy. "...if he's fine with giving you the lighter, I can get you a smoke. 'course, you're wrong on that point; I really do want 'em. So you'll hafta gimme something that's worth a smoke to you. Fair's fair, right?"
no subject
no subject
"You can't just help a guy out? Man, you guys are so stingy."
no subject
"Won't be cheap, but... I think I've got an idea. Surprised you haven't thought of it later." Accompanied by one long sweep over Badou's body... Xigbar wasn't really interested by Mr. Geologic Strata of Ew, but he was interested in making the guy squirm. So why not~?