07: Spam: Bird covet them shiny little pistols.

[omar]

[It seems like it's going to be a real easy port at first, despite the landing. A hotel to loot, full of all kinds of things that will enhance Omar's quality of life beyond what Leslie will provide him with -- not to mention enough odds and ends to let him finish his current toothbrush-based project. It's not as good as Risa, but it will do him fine.

That lasts until the voices start. Or one voice, particularly. One he's been badly wanting to hear since he first came on board.

Brandon won't show himself, though. And he says there are others around, ones Omar will want to see almost as badly, but he won't say where. Not until certain conditions are met. After everything Omar put him through, how can he say no to anything Brandon wants? It's not anything he wouldn't have done for him when he was alive, anyway. Not at first.

Brandon wants presents, and Omar plans to shower him with them. A knife from the kitchens will do for now, and if he can find a gun in someone's room, all the better. Then he sets to doing what a thief does best.]

((OOC: So basically Omar is wandering around and has been told to steal anything even remotely valuable. For once, his usual rules are off -- if you fall under the umbrella of "civilian," the hotel/Brandon will tell him you're a criminal, and may even say you're one of the ones he has to get revenge on -- so if you want to be robbed and/or hurt, or just encounter him being loopy as hell and chatting with his dead boyfriend, this is the place.))

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[omar]

"So where you expect me to go?" he scoffs, pulling a mocking expression. "What -- you think I'm all that likely to move up in the world with some legitimacy? Don't get it twisted up, warden: I like what I do. Always have, always will."

Brandon, or whatever's controlling him, must say something at that point, because something in his face nearly falters. "May have got a little less fun after that... but the game don't change. Never has, never will. And I ain't intend to, either."

[lesliemonster]

"You like what you do? You like the thing that's seen everyone in the world who cares about you put in danger or brutally murdered? Seriously? Seriously?"

...except, yeah. Seriously. He does. The rush, at least. The work itself. And that's something that Leslie is going to have to work with, if she wants Omar to truly have a chance of graduating.

It's not his job to be a different person -- it's her job to work with the person that he is, right now.

"You seriously like what you do," she echos. This time, it's a realization, not a condemnation. "Why?"

[omar]

Perhaps unsurprisingly, Leslie's reaction makes him instantly defensive -- albeit perhaps not for the reasons one might think. "Eyyo, listen here, warden," he snaps, downright angry now. "If you don't get that much, after all this time and with that big file you got to peruse, then you don't know nothing to start with. And if that the case? We ain't got nothing to say to you."

He's nodding along by the end of it, as though being egged on by a silent third party; Brandon of course. "That's right -- I ain't pulled no one into nothing they ain't had the will to do on they own. Brandon, too. My boy loved his work. He want a piece of that back now, and you mean to stand in my way? You?"

His mouth twists, like he wants to spit, but all he does is shake his head and turn to walk away. "I don't think so. He ain't want me to stop on account of some social worker."