[ the jokes have tethered to a slow and the roars of laughter have dulled to post-adrenaline chuckles, of both a nervous and manic sort of nature. both bruised and winded and -- completely absurd with the residue of the after-party, the monk hauls both Their Winnings (creds, paraphernalia, a generally good time) and Badou himself, drunk and slovenly. ]
[ he deposits much of what he can on the old couch of the Shack that hasn't been used in a month, boots making a (second trail of) dust on hardwood floors (evident that he's been here once before, today) ]
[ with his greatest prize still looped under arm, he hauls the scarred man up, gnashing a still-excited, though calmer, grin ]
Re: {action}nicotine_patchNovember 21 2010, 12:41:37 UTC
Hell naw!
[the Undergrounder pats the other's fallen head with a heavy hand, bat bat bat, and then fumbles around for his lost cigarette again]
See, thass'a problem with these kindsa things. F'it'sa fingerprint thing, ya'll get your hand cut off. An' eye thing'll get your head cut off. But even 'f some fucker takes my head, he ain't gonna use the right eye. He'll still be fucked! So I'll be hauntin' his ass like, yeah, you wanted head? Give me head, ya fucker!
Re: {action}prayforpreyNovember 21 2010, 22:25:46 UTC
[ the heavyhaunting pat is clearly, in the monk's drug-bogged mind, an invitation, and he has no intention of leaving it unanswered. with a rather comedic wormlike squirming on the floor, he scoot-scoot-scoots up to thunk his chin on the muscle-and-bone of the man's upper thigh ]
[ which, of course, makes him the observer of the wayward cigarette, scooped out with big (clumsy, today) hands from the cubbyhole between Badou's crossed legs ]
[ to the whole transaction, he offers only his own grating laugh, a cigarette placed back between lips, and -- ]
I saw that comin'.
[ -- the flickering light of his own, proffered flame. ]
[ within the safe itself, her clean innards bared and ready for dirtying, a note reads with simplicity and honesty: ]
Re: {action}nicotine_patchNovember 22 2010, 10:55:07 UTC
[the abrupt frisk is swatted at, sharp and absent and humourous, as if Genkaku's too-big hands are a kid's, jamming themselves into the cookie jar before dinner, or a bad dog nosing after scraps]
[his stinging disciplinary slaps cease abruptly the moment rough paper scratches against his lips, and as he juts adam's apple and jaw to the spark, he pulls out the single note]
Re: {action}nicotine_patchNovember 24 2010, 05:58:45 UTC
[the rambling is barely comprehended, semantics ditched in favour of frequency a long, long time ago]
[he crunches the man's splayed arm into too-sharp ribcage, leaning forward to practically stick his face into the safe for better (drunken) inspection]
[when he exhales, the smoke pfoos out behind his head, and absently he rasps in return]
Re: {action}nicotine_patchNovember 24 2010, 10:53:38 UTC
[inside the safe comes a very, very solid thud as Badou jumps and bangs his head, the rest of his body twitching predictably with something between agitation and oversensitivity]
[very honestly, Badou himself doesn't know if he's ticklish anymore]
Owww, fuckin'... oi - ! Fugoff, just 'coz ya got me a prez'nt don't mean coppin' a feel's up next! How m'ny times I gotta tell you it ain't Junior Prom?
Re: {action}nicotine_patchNovember 24 2010, 13:44:07 UTC
[some people are cute when they're tickled, wiggling and giggling and squirming enticingly, etc]
[some people, however, look like they're having a particularly aggravating/shocking seizure, and Badou's body spazzes right the fuck out as guitar-bitten fingers brush against his stomach and sides as very few people have ever touched him]
[he doesn't chuckle attractively. he doesn't even laugh the way he usually does, all loud and wide-jawed bray. aptly enough, he barks.]
Haa -- haa, haa -- fuckin', haa, get offa me, you f-fuckin' -- haa! Haa! Lunatic!
Re: {action}prayforpreyNovember 25 2010, 15:20:54 UTC
[ "some people" or not, the difference is lost on him; Badou never having been tickled and Genkaku never having tickled phases the contrast out on him ]
[ it hadn't been for comparison, it had been for learning, and from the looks of it, they both learned something. ]
[ the monk relinquishes the other man quickly, favoring the cushion of jittery legs for his head again, a spill of hair to make a bleeding lap ]
Re: {action}prayforpreyDecember 4 2010, 09:54:59 UTC
[ squished between the triangle of the other's lap, his chest, and the black metal face, he gives an almost confused blink upwards ]
[ there's a weird sense of safety (ha) he's never felt, pressed between a cool body and a colder solidunbreakable object, no matter how drunkfucked his companion is ]
[ he says nothing then, a direct inconsistency to Badou's comment itself, and lulls his head down into that uncomfortable angle ]
[ sure, he's had to fight and claw and rip through red to get to This Space -- but it's worth it, to be caved-in-closed-in by someone else. ]
[ he deposits much of what he can on the old couch of the Shack that hasn't been used in a month, boots making a (second trail of) dust on hardwood floors (evident that he's been here once before, today) ]
[ with his greatest prize still looped under arm, he hauls the scarred man up, gnashing a still-excited, though calmer, grin ]
Y'ready f'r that last present I toldja 'bout?
Reply
[the Undergrounder pats the other's fallen head with a heavy hand, bat bat bat, and then fumbles around for his lost cigarette again]
See, thass'a problem with these kindsa things. F'it'sa fingerprint thing, ya'll get your hand cut off. An' eye thing'll get your head cut off. But even 'f some fucker takes my head, he ain't gonna use the right eye. He'll still be fucked! So I'll be hauntin' his ass like, yeah, you wanted head? Give me head, ya fucker!
Voice transcription complete.
Reply
Playback of voice transcription as follows; Give me head, ya fucker! Save this voice transcription?
Whassit sayin' now?
Save authorized. Saving vocal data...
Save complete. User vocal data coded & verified.
[and there's another, smaller CLICK]
Reply
[ which, of course, makes him the observer of the wayward cigarette, scooped out with big (clumsy, today) hands from the cubbyhole between Badou's crossed legs ]
[ to the whole transaction, he offers only his own grating laugh, a cigarette placed back between lips, and -- ]
I saw that comin'.
[ -- the flickering light of his own, proffered flame. ]
[ within the safe itself, her clean innards bared and ready for dirtying, a note reads with simplicity and honesty: ]
IOU
- g
Reply
[his stinging disciplinary slaps cease abruptly the moment rough paper scratches against his lips, and as he juts adam's apple and jaw to the spark, he pulls out the single note]
"IOU"? F'what?
Reply
[ shrug! ]
Y'already know what it is, anyway. A'least I toldja, dunno f'you're gonna remember.
... Probably not.
[ his robes jangle on the floor as he scoots more, reaching in to touch the slickness of the shelves ]
Mmn, she's purty.
[ the arm gets splayed across the man's lap, a comfortable cushion ]
[ then, like backtracking, the grow-tasting ramble; ]
I guess it ain't really a 'owe' seein' as s'definitely somethin' y'need, but it was the easiest to write.
Reply
[he crunches the man's splayed arm into too-sharp ribcage, leaning forward to practically stick his face into the safe for better (drunken) inspection]
[when he exhales, the smoke pfoos out behind his head, and absently he rasps in return]
Nobody ever owes me nothin'. What kinda need?
Reply
[ the commentary and question both go unrepliedunanswered, as his free hand wiggles forth under coat and shirt alike -- ]
[ and fingers promptly race up bones and lack thereof ]
[ ... is Badou ticklish? he's never gotten a sure answer ]
Reply
[very honestly, Badou himself doesn't know if he's ticklish anymore]
Owww, fuckin'... oi - ! Fugoff, just 'coz ya got me a prez'nt don't mean coppin' a feel's up next! How m'ny times I gotta tell you it ain't Junior Prom?
Reply
[ Junior Prom, no, but maybe a kindergarten dance as he seeks out tickle-sensitive~ areas with writhing fingers ]
Reply
[some people, however, look like they're having a particularly aggravating/shocking seizure, and Badou's body spazzes right the fuck out as guitar-bitten fingers brush against his stomach and sides as very few people have ever touched him]
[he doesn't chuckle attractively. he doesn't even laugh the way he usually does, all loud and wide-jawed bray. aptly enough, he barks.]
Haa -- haa, haa -- fuckin', haa, get offa me, you f-fuckin' -- haa! Haa! Lunatic!
Reply
[ it hadn't been for comparison, it had been for learning, and from the looks of it, they both learned something. ]
[ the monk relinquishes the other man quickly, favoring the cushion of jittery legs for his head again, a spill of hair to make a bleeding lap ]
S'cute.
Reply
[and then attempts to close it on his head]
Reply
[ and he stares at the deep recesses of the safe ]
[ apathetically ]
Tryin'na keep me a secret, Fox?
Reply
[stops trying to squash his brains, and folds drunkenly over, leaning on top of the safe with folded arms]
[a wave of tiredness has finally hit him, and on top of this box of secrets seems as good a place to rest as any]
Reply
[ there's a weird sense of safety (ha) he's never felt, pressed between a cool body and a colder solidunbreakable object, no matter how drunkfucked his companion is ]
[ he says nothing then, a direct inconsistency to Badou's comment itself, and lulls his head down into that uncomfortable angle ]
[ sure, he's had to fight and claw and rip through red to get to This Space -- but it's worth it, to be caved-in-closed-in by someone else. ]
Reply
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