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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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For preference, him shooting someone and taking all their stuff.]
I look like a guy standin' here waitin' on you, boo.
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He speeds back across the hall at Omar, making sure to give the distinct impression he's going to punch the man in the face while preparing to make a grab for the gun with his other hand. ]
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In which case, he's definitely not letting Dark get the gun, so he throws it to the floor and kicks it aside, choosing to take the punch if it's still coming his way.]
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He landed on the other side and made a dash for the gun. ]
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He still misses his homemade crossbow just about every day.
He breaks to the side and jumps for it, much less gracefully than he'd normally be happy about. He lands heavily on top of the pistol and curls himself around it, huddling protectively over it.]
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You still want to play? 'Cause I can think of better ways to waste my time.
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You know this ain't over, I hope.
[But it does kind of have to be for now. He was prepared for a lot of things, but he's never gone up against someone who outright repelled bullets. That's going to take some extra planning.
And he hadn't necessarily been set on killing Dark before, but he is now. That's going to take a little extra, too.]
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You wish! No one beats Phantom Thief Dark.
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Pride goeth before the fall, boo.
[...says the man who had a sha of pride for like two weeks without anyone noticing, himself included.]
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