dead like pauly shore (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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maskormenacelogs2015-10-10 07:21 pm
lifeatsteak) wrote in maskormenacelogs2015-10-10 07:21 pm
girl, you're such a backstabber
WHO: Edgar Nolastname & YOU
WHERE: Heropa, FL
WHEN: October 7th, throughout the day.
WHAT: Meet Edgar, your newest war-torn dystopian orphan!
WARNINGS: Blood (dried), J-walking.
a. FORK IN THE ROAD.
(As this would clearly only happen once, this prompt is only open to the first person who replies to it. First come first serve!)
WHERE: Heropa, FL
WHEN: October 7th, throughout the day.
WHAT: Meet Edgar, your newest war-torn dystopian orphan!
WARNINGS: Blood (dried), J-walking.
a. FORK IN THE ROAD.
[Edgar looks like shit.]b. READING RAINBOW.
[This cannot be emphasized enough. Tired, pale, and covered in grime at the best of times, Edgar's now added a rainbow of dried blood to his repertoire. Most of it is on the front of him, as though he was recently fighting a bleeding enemy, but there's a sticky puddle formed around his back, and a hole torn the fabric of his jacket, right in the center of the stain.]
[Edgar doesn't seem bothered by any of that, though. Edgar is standing completely still, a look of total, awe-struck wonderment on his face. He's staring straight up at the clear, blue sky, and the sun shining through the clouds, as though it's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.]
[He's also standing right in the middle of the road. It's not a very busy road, so he hasn't gotten hit by a car yet, but... well, yet.]
[Do you have a house in Heropa?]c. WHAT WOULD YOU DO FOR A KLONDIKE BAR?
[If you've got an outdoor mailbox, someone is going through it. Someone named Edgar. Looking down the street, he's done this to the last few mailboxes down the way. He's pulling the mail out, opening it, and reading it before tossing it aside on the front lawn and moving over to the next.]
[Edgar's face is scrunched up in quiet concentration as he goes over each word, sounding them out slowly. He reads each aloud, stumbling over the bigger words. Hope you weren't getting any private correspondence!]
(As this would clearly only happen once, this prompt is only open to the first person who replies to it. First come first serve!)
[Edgar is having a staring contest with the barrel of someone else's gun.]
[Well, let's start at the beginning. Do you know how great Hostess Snacks are? And do you know how many of them are in the average convenience store?]
[Edgar had wandered into a gas station Kwik-E-Mart and discovered the essential goodness of zebra cakes, though he's yet to have the rules of commerce revealed to him. When he started opening boxes of food at the back of the store, he got in trouble with the man running the front counter. When he laughed it off, he only got further in trouble. Words got heated when he tried to walk out of the store with hands full of food. Eventually, the shopkeeper threatened to call the cops, and Edgar threatened bodily harm. Hoping to defend himself, the shopkeeper pulled out the gun underneath the counter.]
[And then you walked in the door.]
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[ After this she will demand and demand until he has the good sense to say no. There's no repercussions for not obeying April's insane demands, but she will exploit the weak and good hearted if they let her. ]
Unless you speak spanish.
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[Until then, Edgar flops down on the nearest free bit of sofa space (so soft!) and generally acts like the teenager he still is. The towel on his head flops over, covering one bright, inquisitive eye, and Edgar ignores it in favor of invading April's personal space.] Su casa es... something or other. What's this, then? [He pokes her game controller. There's simply too much stuff to stay on one subject for long; Edgar ends up horribly sidetracked.]
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[ Grey had never taken to video games, but he would grudgingly play because he was good at taking orders and April good at forgetting she was taking advantage. So there was a possibility she might at least get some hilarious competition for a moment. ]
And you will refer to me in the formal usted if you try that again.
[ She's joking. She's deadpan and there's no sign of that fact. But...well. You got used to that or suffered in this house, really. ]
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[That, and, occasionally, how to count, and say hello. The joys of growing up in the multilingual nightmare train. Edgar takes the console and taps a few buttons, not really watching the screen. He's got his eye (the one still not covered by a towel) on April's hands.] There supposed to be a point of this, or d'you just like lost causes? [He grins, perfectly aware of where that puts him on today's hierarchy of needs.]
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[ Someone, please, just don't let her win this easily anymore. She does the button pressing, then nods to the screen. See the connection? ]
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[A sly smile spreads on his face.] The buttons control the little man in the box, yeah?
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[ Here, take the controller. Go forth and be terrible at the game for her entertainment. It's kind of tradition at this point. ]
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[Okay, his 'hilarious' joke falls a little flat when April completely fails to react. Edgar focuses on the video game.] So I'm to run you over, huh?
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Mm.
[ And the race begins, meaning she's not looking at him as she starts talking again. ]
So. You and Grey were, like. Friends or something.
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You're gonna need a different bed than my couch.
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[He actually double takes like a fucking cartoon character. It causes his video game car to spin off the side of the road and hit a nearby wall.]
[He feels like he was just given permission to stay, but he's not sure he should repine on it.] Like what?
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Like a bed. Or a hammock. Or ask the raccoons to form a pile, I dunno. Just this is in use.
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Where?
[But, Edgar knows what to do with orders, even if they're phrased to sound like suggestions.]
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Ask Grey.