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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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[Omar removes the boot, though he makes no move to help Chris up. He starts walking again.]
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Dude, would you wait? Fuckface, I'm trying to talk to you! I'm your warden, you could stand to give me a little respect!
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[Omar stops, though he doesn't turn around.]
You need to have yourself a little conversation with the dictionary and find out what that word means.
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Make a good impression on who?
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You want a sign of respect, warden, you best believe it's that that flapping jaw of yours ain't already need to be sewed shut again. I'm making no promises it'll stay that way if you don't wise up quick.
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Would you at least call me Chris? I call you Omar.
C'mon. Where're you headed? We'll go together.
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Now that he's actually facing Chris, his expression is more or less still, except for a sneer curling at the corner of his lip, but his eyes flash dark.]
You call me a whole lotta names I don't care to repeat.
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Dude. Jesus. Tone it down a notch, I'm sorry. I'm just messing with you, all right?
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You know what they call Omar Little back down on Earth? The King of West Baltimore.
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Yeah? My dad used to be don of New York. You could say you and me are related.
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You think? Cousin?
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..Dude. Personal space.
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Now, I makes it a rule not to hurt any wardens, but that don't mean I can't cause all kinds of badness for you. You still wanna have a good month, I'd rethink some of these words you using.
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[Yeah, even Chris knows he looks nowhere near in charge]
I'll call you by your name if you call me by mine.
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You wanna be the man in charge, but you don't want me to use the title you here with?
Holy crap, apologies about the lateness
That's okay!
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...Or 'The Motherfucker', but we can warm up to that one.
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[Although he can't say he hasn't thought it once or twice. It would be beneath him t say it aloud, though.]
And if you ain't my warden, Chris, who are you?
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Life coach.
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I'm your Big Brother.
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I already got a big brother.
(no subject)