[He's totally lying, mind you, but he's had a few of the more...enhanced residence take a strong objection to his personal Holiday celebration. He sits back down on the roof with a heavy thump and opens a new bottle of...something strong and unpleasant.]
C'mon up, havva drink.
[It's clear at this point that he's already quite wasted.]
[Well, she takes his apology at face value, at least] Ah, I... think I'll pass on the drink, thank you. I'm coming up there, though.
[She runs over and disappears around the corner of his house, out of his range so that he can't shoot her either intentionally or accidentally, before wall-jumping between houses and easily pulling herself up onto the roof.]
[Gabriel has found Verbal's ladder and has climbed up on the roof with him. He's brought a thermos of tea and a ragged notebook. He seems oblivious to Verbal's screaming, or the gunshots. Instead, he's watching the drones die and taking notes.]
What the fuck do you think I'm doing? It's Christmas!
[Indeed, the Verbal Kint Annual Christmas Shooting Spree has become quite the holiday tradition, and one of many reasons why Verbal has spent most of the last ten years droned. Verbal takes careful aim and...oh. Wait. He knows this kid.]
Yeah! I thought you'd have knocked this off already...
[He mutters, deciding to climb up the ladder. He's slightly glad that he's only had to withstand it for only a few years before he was placed in his own house, but this still bothers him quite a bit. He sighs upon looking about the roof.]
I told you kid, in this place, you gotta take life's little pleasures where ya can.
*BLAM!*
Shit, missed. Speakin' of which, they tried to give me another wife this morning. Ha.
[Another Kint tradition, fortunately started sometime after Ryoga left the nest: making sure that anyone in the bed with him in the morning is dead before they wake up. He sleeps with a knife on his nightstand for just that purpose.]
[Yeah, Verbal snapped quite thoroughly a few years ago. There are many reasons he spends most of his time droned these days.]
[It would be terribly nice if you didn't shoot the pretty lady who always brings you flowers for Christmas and a bottle of wine for... after Christmas]
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WHOA! SORRY ABOUT THAT!
[He's totally lying, mind you, but he's had a few of the more...enhanced residence take a strong objection to his personal Holiday celebration. He sits back down on the roof with a heavy thump and opens a new bottle of...something strong and unpleasant.]
C'mon up, havva drink.
[It's clear at this point that he's already quite wasted.]
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[She runs over and disappears around the corner of his house, out of his range so that he can't shoot her either intentionally or accidentally, before wall-jumping between houses and easily pulling herself up onto the roof.]
And a Merry Christmas to you too, Mr. Kint.
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[He meant to say "suit," but he's slurring his words something fierce. The accidental pun cracks him up, however.]
"Shoot yourself." Ha. Funny.
[He loses track of her several times as she runs and flips, and is a bit dizzy by the time she finds her way next to him.]
Thanks, kiddo. So where'd you learn to do all that...
[He mimes the running and the flipping with his hands.]
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[Doot doot.]
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Oh hey.
[Wordlessly, he hands Gabriel a bottle of cheap Vodka and takes aim again.]
SMITH, DON'T CLOSE YOUR DRAPES AT ME, YOU ASSHOLE. I'LL GET YOU SOONER OR LATER.
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[Gabriel pours a liberal amount into his tea and hands it back.]
He'll come back out for the afternoon paper.
[Sip. Wince. Oh, that's awful stuff.]
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Nnf. I hate waiting. And the goddamn kids finally stopped trying to make snowmen last year.
[With a dearth of targets, he reloads and takes a long swig.]
You think he's really gonna be stupid enough to come out?
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Hey! What the hell do you think you're doing up there?!
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[Indeed, the Verbal Kint Annual Christmas Shooting Spree has become quite the holiday tradition, and one of many reasons why Verbal has spent most of the last ten years droned. Verbal takes careful aim and...oh. Wait. He knows this kid.]
Ryoga? That you?
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[He mutters, deciding to climb up the ladder. He's slightly glad that he's only had to withstand it for only a few years before he was placed in his own house, but this still bothers him quite a bit. He sighs upon looking about the roof.]
It's just as bad as usual.
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*BLAM!*
Shit, missed. Speakin' of which, they tried to give me another wife this morning. Ha.
[Another Kint tradition, fortunately started sometime after Ryoga left the nest: making sure that anyone in the bed with him in the morning is dead before they wake up. He sleeps with a knife on his nightstand for just that purpose.]
[Yeah, Verbal snapped quite thoroughly a few years ago. There are many reasons he spends most of his time droned these days.]
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Or at least let me onto the roof.
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[He does, however, stop shooting long enough to let her join him. He offers her one of the bottles of cheap liquor and reloads.]
Think I got some molotov's left. They're in the box behind you.
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Y'got no finesse. Make it a goal, like-- just shoot the ugly people.
[she begins to go through the box.]
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When you're this drunk hon, nobody's ugly.
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...Oh. Sorry, Mia.
[His eyes travel down to the flowers and wine.]
Aw, I keep tellin' you you don't gotta do that.
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...thanks. [He sounds a little uncomfortable. He's not usually the type of guy who likes to thank people.]
Got some vodka up here, if y'want.
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