10: Video/Spam: Man, ain't no closure.

[omar]

[Video]

[It's hard, if not impossible, to tell where Omar is broadcasting from: the only thing in sight is the wall behind him, plain and unadorned and identical to those lining the halls. If anyone happens to be on level seven, they will in fact see him sitting comfortably against the wall nearest the stern common room.]

I been told that I took a wrong turn 'bout two year ago and wound up in that port back there instead of where I meant to be, so I figured a reintroduction might be in order. I'll keep it simple this time -- nothing fancy:

I'm Omar Little. Some of you know me, some of you don't...

[He grins.]

Most of y'all will soon enough.

[Open Spam]

[One of the things that most bothers Omar about the change is finding out how completely the neighborhood, so to speak, has changed. He can live with losing most of his friends and allies, but he really doesn't like not knowing who's taken their place.

The upshot is that pretty much as soon as the port ends he can be found roaming the halls at all hours, just about everywhere he has access to or can get into. He seems casual about it, just out for a stroll here or a late-night snack there, but the particularly observant might note that he's being particularly observant. Every so often, he even takes out a little scratchpad and writes down a note, especially when he sees someone enter or leave a cabin.]

[Spam for Loki]

[And there is one person that he's particularly interested in catching. He didn't want to talk on the phone -- he never wants to talk on the phone -- but he slides into step with him out of nowhere one afternoon, voice low.]

You may not know me, but I surely do know you, Trickster.

Comments

[velocette]

Hopefully those few people are who you actually liked.

[omar]

Some.

[velocette]

What happened last time you were here?

[It's a vague question but he's most curious about what events stand out sharpest to someone who's seen more of life here than he has.]

[omar]

Fair number of things.

[It's a broad question, most of all. Omar's brow furrows slightly as he thinks how best to answer it. But then, well, he knows what he would most want people to remember about his time aboard:]

Took down a little mutt wanted to call himself a big bad wolf a few times. Name of Ladd Russo?

[Or has it been long enough that even Ladd is long forgotten? Good riddance, if so, really.]

[velocette]

I remember the name. I never ran into him...I'd seen enough copies of him back home, right down to the girl on his arm making excuses for him.

[He looks at Omar with new interest]

I never knew anyone stood up to him.

[omar]

[Piper couldn't have picked a better thing to say. A satisfied, even smug grin spreads across Omar's face: the cat that got the cream.]

Oh, once or twice.

[velocette]

[His eyebrows raise; he has to hear this. So hopefully he'll be able to. If not, Omar will need to learn some sign language.]

Yeah? Let me live vicariously for a while. In case he ever comes back I'll have some footsteps to follow in.

[omar]

Magician never tells, baby.

[velocette]

[He can respect that. Respects it more, in fact, than if Omar had bragged with details.]

In a place like this I'll probably see another Ladd someday, huh?

Hey--what did you do for fun before?

[omar]

Which before?

[velocette]

[Hah, good point.] Both. I imagine you did things very differently at home than on the Barge.

[omar]

At home? I was what we call a stick-up boy. [He smirks.] I robbed me some drug dealers. Technically, that was my occupation, but it was pretty fun, too.

Up here... things get surprisingly still up here, for such a busy boat.

[velocette]

[He chuckles; can't help it]

I robbed a couple, too. Never made a full time thing of it, though...they were usually better armed than me.

[omar]

They always were. That's where you got to get crafty.

What did you do when you wasn't going after corner boys?