(Untitled)

[deathmerciful]

[Private to Rusty]

Greetings, monsieur. We spoke earlier. You are a warden, correct? [For a creature who doesn't need to breathe he's suprisingly short of breath or full of breath if you want it that way. Flustered even] I require immediate admission to the CES. This is a matter of strict urgency.

[Sorry Donny, Louis doesn't want you to see him like

Comments

Private / Voice

[thedetailsman]

Oh, hey, it's my sarcastic double.

. . .As long as it's strictly urgent, let's do this.

Private/Voice - Cue the bass guitar.

[deathmerciful]

Remind me to thank you when my senses are aligned.

Do you know where the CES is? I will meet you by the door.

Private/Voice&Spam - Rusty'll bring the fedoras

[thedetailsman]

I'll be there in ten.

[It takes six minutes to get there, but Rusty doesn't feel like greeting his literal carbon-copy just yet. Not ever, really. He leans against a wall, rolling a lollipop around in his mouth. It's too creepy. He decides the best thing to do is to just face the music. After checking his watch (it's been seven minutes now. Seven and counting. . .), he takes the final strides and nods to the other.]

"I just realized that I never asked your name."

SPAM

[deathmerciful]

[Louis, having preternatural speed matched with a need to eat something, anything, was waiting by the entrance to the warden area impatiently. It had been a while since he allowed his senses to be riled like this. When the minutes passed slowly he found himself slouching against the wall holding his arms crossed against his body, biting his bottom lip anxiously.

He heard Rusty approaching before he laid his eyes on him. At a glance he saw his doppleganger walking towards him. He straightened. Before him was a living, breathing... blood pulsing him. He swallowed. This was far too queer.]

Louis, monsieur.

[His heavily accented French Louisianan voice coming out far more ragged than intended. He let out a breath.]

Please. The door.