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Hey kid, I've asked Keith Goodman to find you a doctor. Since I really can't do anything about it from jail -- but he's a good man, and I trust his judgement. He looks and acts like an hyperactive, dumb golden retriever. You know the ones.
Tell him that if he tries anything funny he's answering to me.
Tell him that if he tries anything funny he's answering to me.
Hi, Badou!! I wish to formally invite you to my birthday party!! 🎉
It is going to be Sunday, July 21st, at House 1475.
Make sure you come with an appetite at 5 o'clock, because there will be some yummy
appetizers, and even YUMMIER food for dinner! (╯°□°）╯
The theme is casual chic, so dress nice and comfortably
since the weather tells me that it is going to be cooler than it's been lately. Yay!
Please respond back with your confirmation if you are/are not going
by Friday, July 19th. Thank you and have a good day! (っ◕‿◕)っ ♥
It is going to be Sunday, July 21st, at House 1475.
Make sure you come with an appetite at 5 o'clock, because there will be some yummy
appetizers, and even YUMMIER food for dinner! (╯°□°）╯
The theme is casual chic, so dress nice and comfortably
since the weather tells me that it is going to be cooler than it's been lately. Yay!
Please respond back with your confirmation if you are/are not going
by Friday, July 19th. Thank you and have a good day! (っ◕‿◕)っ ♥
[badou will wake one morning to find a bright pink piece of paper taped to the wall above his bed. it's dotted with most of the contents of carol's sticker sheet and reads, in obnoxiously huge sharpie letters:
LOVE, MOM
XOXO
the only sticker missing is the red one she stuck on his forehead.
SHE IS VENGEANCE. SHE IS THE NIGHT.
SHE IS CAPTAIN MARVEL.]
LOVE, MOM
XOXO
the only sticker missing is the red one she stuck on his forehead.
SHE IS VENGEANCE. SHE IS THE NIGHT.
SHE IS CAPTAIN MARVEL.]
[ later in the day, badou will get mail in his inbox with a filled-out order form for pastries (cheese danish, cinnamon roll, chocolate coronets...), and a note of thanks: professional, personal. ]
Badou,
Put your bad habit to good use.
-Barnaby Brooks Jr.
[ the note comes with a red star attached to the name. ]
Badou,
Put your bad habit to good use.
-Barnaby Brooks Jr.
[ the note comes with a red star attached to the name. ]
( what's this pink envelope doing in your mailbox? the name Badou is written across the back in curly cursive without a return address; though, once its contents are revealed-- a hand written letter on ultra pink and painfully chic stationary, along with a few green stickers... it's painfully obvious who it's from. )
Ba-chan,
Have a cute star
to put a smile on your cute face!
Girls don't like a guy who frowns too much!
Hugs and kisses,
Seiko-chan ★
Ba-chan,
Have a cute star
to put a smile on your cute face!
Girls don't like a guy who frowns too much!
Hugs and kisses,
Seiko-chan ★
Edited 2013-07-30 10:35 (UTC)
[ There will be a note on pink stationary waiting for him, with a gold star attached. Next to the gold star is a smiley face with an eyepatch that has a flame design on it. The note itself reads:
Thank you so much for the scarf! It's such a fun array of colors, and will go with practically everything in my closet. I'm definitely not throwing it away.
Please accept this gold star as a token of my thanks. :) -Kaede ]
Thank you so much for the scarf! It's such a fun array of colors, and will go with practically everything in my closet. I'm definitely not throwing it away.
Please accept this gold star as a token of my thanks. :) -Kaede ]
[it's not that he couldn't avoid him]
[he has every nuance of the posted schedule memorized; Hiruma's sweeping writing, when each employee will be present (if Mikoto doesn't come in an hour late, if Nicolas doesn't leave an hour early), notices immediately when "BADOU NAILS" gets penned in (weekends especially, when they're all -- drinking, whoring, footballing, whatever it is the ragtag team of gunpowder specialists do)]
[and it's not that he couldn't quit TF without a moment's hesitation]
[all of the employees that come and go -- fuck them. all of the regular customers in and out -- fuck them. the owner -- fuck him the most.]
[it's the paycheck, probably. the comfort of a gunshop in too-ordinary Holly Heights, the smell of metal and the rebelling noise of gunshots from the shooting range. the sense of obligation he still feels for a promise that comes over phone calls, despite Ergastulum feeling like the mirage in the desert but not nearly the oasis]
[he could ask for the schedule change, but the bossman was hardly comforting the first go around]
[so instead he sits at the register, two hours into his shift, expecting to see dirty red sneakers he's never actually seen on feet, tattered jeans he's never actually seen on legs, a shitty scowl he's only ever seen over a video feed -- all come wrestling through the door as if fighting air itself with every step]
[and, just as the bell rings, the professional gangster will ask:]
Help ya find somethin'?
[from behind his paper and his cloud of smoke]
[he has every nuance of the posted schedule memorized; Hiruma's sweeping writing, when each employee will be present (if Mikoto doesn't come in an hour late, if Nicolas doesn't leave an hour early), notices immediately when "BADOU NAILS" gets penned in (weekends especially, when they're all -- drinking, whoring, footballing, whatever it is the ragtag team of gunpowder specialists do)]
[and it's not that he couldn't quit TF without a moment's hesitation]
[all of the employees that come and go -- fuck them. all of the regular customers in and out -- fuck them. the owner -- fuck him the most.]
[it's the paycheck, probably. the comfort of a gunshop in too-ordinary Holly Heights, the smell of metal and the rebelling noise of gunshots from the shooting range. the sense of obligation he still feels for a promise that comes over phone calls, despite Ergastulum feeling like the mirage in the desert but not nearly the oasis]
[he could ask for the schedule change, but the bossman was hardly comforting the first go around]
[so instead he sits at the register, two hours into his shift, expecting to see dirty red sneakers he's never actually seen on feet, tattered jeans he's never actually seen on legs, a shitty scowl he's only ever seen over a video feed -- all come wrestling through the door as if fighting air itself with every step]
[and, just as the bell rings, the professional gangster will ask:]
Help ya find somethin'?
[from behind his paper and his cloud of smoke]
[ tbadou needdfs you
the message had been sent, and minutes later nill had been running. it hadn't woken her, sleeping in the small and the quiet of peace rather than waiting wasn't easily done - and in a way she'd been grateful to plunge out into fresh air.
in another way, she wasn't at all. (nto in a good way b careful)
she doesn't stop running. it's a long way to fly in the dark, but they always have been creatures of the underneath and this dark is nothing, lit up with stars as it is. the distance disappears beneath her panicked thoughts. so she doesn't stop running until she's close, until she knows she can find him, until she's not far from 1470 -
she skips it. the area becomes her first port of call, the sound of her panted breaths preceding her when her feet aren't busy breaking into short little bursts of jittered flight. (if she were aching, nto in a good way, the last place she would want to be is "home"). ]
the message had been sent, and minutes later nill had been running. it hadn't woken her, sleeping in the small and the quiet of peace rather than waiting wasn't easily done - and in a way she'd been grateful to plunge out into fresh air.
in another way, she wasn't at all. (nto in a good way b careful)
she doesn't stop running. it's a long way to fly in the dark, but they always have been creatures of the underneath and this dark is nothing, lit up with stars as it is. the distance disappears beneath her panicked thoughts. so she doesn't stop running until she's close, until she knows she can find him, until she's not far from 1470 -
she skips it. the area becomes her first port of call, the sound of her panted breaths preceding her when her feet aren't busy breaking into short little bursts of jittered flight. (if she were aching, nto in a good way, the last place she would want to be is "home"). ]
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