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11: Spam: Let’s say we had a disagreement.
[Open spam]
[Omar's been content to lay low for his first month or so back. Get his bearings, learn the new lay of the land, find out who the new players are, where to draw his new lines. Now that he has a fairly good idea of where things -- and people -- are, how they're going, he relaxes a little bit on all the surveillance. He stops lurking in hallways and corners and making little notes about things.
Which doesn't mean he stays in his cabin. In fact, he's almost never there. He's fallen right back into old habits: he sleeps in common rooms or empty cabins more often than in his own, sometimes even in the back of the library, if such a place really exists. He doesn't make a routine out of anything, except that after the incident in the chapel he swings by there once every Sunday to check in on things. He never actually goes inside -- just looks the place over and leaves again. He can be found, in short, loitering just about anywhere and at just about any time, looking for all the world like he's lazing on a stoop in the summer.]
[Spam for Dark Mousy]
[...except. Now that Omar's got this new warden, he can't sit completely still. With Barge ennui nipping at his heels, it was getting on time for him to start something, but being paired with Chris gives him a good boost of incentive. If he's going to play a little anyway, he might as well pay Chris back for all the disrespect in the process.
And anyway, it's fun. He turns up at Dark's door early Wednesday morning, knocking lightly. When it opens, he's standing there with what does, in fact, appear to be a newspaper. Omar flashes a broad grin: found you.]
Home delivery.
[Spam for Jimmy Darmody]
[And then another visit, one he's been planning for a while. He waits in the corridor outside Jimmy's cabin, still before breakfast, positioned so that the door hides him when it swings open. As soon as Jimmy steps away from it, Omar slips smoothly up behind him, pressing something solid into the small of his back.]
'Eyo -- you ever do anything for April Fool's Day?
[Omar's been content to lay low for his first month or so back. Get his bearings, learn the new lay of the land, find out who the new players are, where to draw his new lines. Now that he has a fairly good idea of where things -- and people -- are, how they're going, he relaxes a little bit on all the surveillance. He stops lurking in hallways and corners and making little notes about things.
Which doesn't mean he stays in his cabin. In fact, he's almost never there. He's fallen right back into old habits: he sleeps in common rooms or empty cabins more often than in his own, sometimes even in the back of the library, if such a place really exists. He doesn't make a routine out of anything, except that after the incident in the chapel he swings by there once every Sunday to check in on things. He never actually goes inside -- just looks the place over and leaves again. He can be found, in short, loitering just about anywhere and at just about any time, looking for all the world like he's lazing on a stoop in the summer.]
[Spam for Dark Mousy]
[...except. Now that Omar's got this new warden, he can't sit completely still. With Barge ennui nipping at his heels, it was getting on time for him to start something, but being paired with Chris gives him a good boost of incentive. If he's going to play a little anyway, he might as well pay Chris back for all the disrespect in the process.
And anyway, it's fun. He turns up at Dark's door early Wednesday morning, knocking lightly. When it opens, he's standing there with what does, in fact, appear to be a newspaper. Omar flashes a broad grin: found you.]
Home delivery.
[Spam for Jimmy Darmody]
[And then another visit, one he's been planning for a while. He waits in the corridor outside Jimmy's cabin, still before breakfast, positioned so that the door hides him when it swings open. As soon as Jimmy steps away from it, Omar slips smoothly up behind him, pressing something solid into the small of his back.]
'Eyo -- you ever do anything for April Fool's Day?
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How'd you know I was one? You zoning in on my brainwaves or something?
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Ain't all that hard to tell the difference most of the time. No offense.
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[Joking, but she's certainly curious.]
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[He drawls the word out lazily, the smirk still playing on his lips.]
Again -- no offense.
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...That obvious, is it?
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She shrugs, a curious smile tilting one corner of her lips upward as she shyly casts her eyes away.]
Something glamourous like that, yes. Ever so 'high class'.
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Better class of prison for that sort of thing, too, way I hear it.
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..I take it you're on the 'other side', then.
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[She shifts her eyes sideways, eager to not offend, but explain what she meant.]