12: Video/Spam: Fix this, Joe? --What's the problem?-- Ran out of time.

[omar]

[Video, Private to Chris, Sunday evening]

[Once upon a time, Omar hadn't minded the Barge so much. It's a prison, sure, but one with better food and more fresh air, and he'd actually really liked his warden. He and Leslie had had something of an understanding between them: she respected him by trying not to get too much in his face; he respected her by trying not to seriously hurt anyone that hadn't hurt someone else first. He'd still killed Ladd Russo twice, and she'd still taken steps against him both times, but he hadn't felt like her heart was really in it. At the end of the day, they actually kind of trusted each other.

He realizes now that he let himself get fooled into extending that trust to other wardens, too. Chris D'Amico has been a nightmare for him, pushy and rude and disrespectful and entitled, and while Omar had seen the part of Leslie that had actually wanted to help him, he's seen none of it in Chris.

Which is fine. He's a warden, after all. Omar should have remembered that most people here weren't going to be any different from most people back home: selfish and hungry. He should have remembered that any real prison warden is as much a part of the game as he is.

Time to remind Chris what their roles should really look like.

On Sunday evening Chris gets a series of video messages from Omar's communicator, one after the other, five in all. Each one seems to be filmed in the first-person perspective, at around chest height, like Omar stuck his communicator in his breast pocket and hit record. Each one depicts an attack: Jimmy, Mickey, Letty, Dark, and Arthas. The last one is very nearly current, which is good, because...]

[Open Spam for Level 1]

[...In the wake of escaping Arthas' cabin, Omar may have let the zombies out. Like Anya said: cleanup, aisle 7. Omar darts down the hallway just ahead of the pack, one of Arthas' shining gauntlets underneath his arm.]

((Omar is going to try to GTFO, but feel free to also use this post for general zombies-on-level-1 shenanigans!))

[Video, Public]

[Once Chris picks up his communicator, Omar starts broadcasting his reaction to the network at large. He really can't wait to see what happens.]

Comments

JIMMY

[omar]

[It's actually Sunday morning when Omar gets things started. Jimmy gets to go first -- Omar's seen Jimmy's cabin, seen the way Jimmy moves and reacts. Plus, Omar doubts he'll be quick to alert any wardens. Even if Jimmy is more guarded than before, Omar is pretty sure this hit will be the easiest.

He starts by knocking. As soon as the door cracks open, he kicks it hard.]

Rise and shine, sleepyhead.

[thelastbullet]

[He's right-- he hasn't told a soul, more out of embarrassment than anything else. He'd been working on procuring a weapon, but it's so much harder than it needs to be, really. He had wanted to solve this himself, get back his belongings and teach Omar a lesson.

Apparently it was too slow-going. He didn't think he had anything left to be stolen, and he makes the mistake of opening his door on the assumption that it had been Gene knocking.

The door hits him on the chin, and he stumbles back.]

Son of a--

[omar]

[He shoves the door aside and storms in, one hand inside his coat with what definitely looks like his gun tenting the pocket.]

Forgot something.

[He stalks over to where he already knows the watch is, or at least where it was last time.]

Listen, man -- I want you to know, this ain't personal. Not personal to you, no how.

[thelastbullet]

[Right now, 'looks like a gun' isn't enough for him-- he's furious, seething, at having this happen again.

So he feints another stumble into the bed, and he grabs the steak knife from underneath the pillow. Unless Omar is actively pointing the gun at him, still, he'll step up close.]

You're making it personal, asshole.

[omar]

[Damn. He does still have the gun on him, but he doesn't want any of the wardens to see it on the camera. He can't afford to have it taken away when he knows he'll never get his hands on another one. He slips it out of his pocket and keeps it low, carefully out of frame, clucking his tongue.]

Uh uh uh, young'in. Easy now.

[With his free hand, he tugs the drawer open and fishes around till he claims the watch, which he does hold up in sight of the lens.]

I do understand why it seem that way, and you gonna do what you gonna do about it. That's why you in this -- that's what we do, right?

[thelastbullet]

[He clenches his jaw, breathing hard, his face close to Omar's. But he can't argue with a gun, not when this is all he has, not when the memory of the death tolls is still fresh in his mind.

So he drops the knife, hand still raised in the air as it hits the ground with a metallic clang.]

You think you're somehow better than me?

MICKEY

[omar]

[Spirits lifted by the minor success at Jimmy's, Omar moves down to Mickey's cabin, and that actually turns out to be the easiest one of all: he catches him half-asleep, his guard way down, still rubbing sleep from his eyes until he sees what must be a gun. The kid doesn't push it: he groans and puts his hands up, stepping back from the door.

Of course, there's little of value in this cabin. Omar filches Mickey's wedding ring from the bottom of a drawer, a couple of chains off the dresser. He's all set to take the guns, too -- the little pistol and the giant honking assault rifle -- until he finds out they're both out of ammo. He's pretty sure no one is going to give him any re-ups, especially not once this gets out, and he's going to have enough trouble keeping the weapons he already has hidden. He lets them go with a wistful sigh and departs Mickey's cabin with one last fond farewell:]

Tell your friend Chris that Omar say hello.

LETTY

[omar]

[Before this month, Omar would never have touched Letty. The wardens have all been off-limits in his mind, just the same as all the decent civilians on the streets of Baltimore. He's not about to ruin the life of someone just trying to live their own life, just trying to help someone else.

But having revised his opinion on at least some of the wardens here, he's also revised his opinion on how viable they are as targets. Letty, in particular... he knows she's a criminal. She told him as much. Warden or not, he thinks that makes her fair game, and nothing she's said to him so far has deterred him from wanting to bust things up for her a little bit.

He calls ahead of time, this time.]

'ayo -- you up? We need to talk.

[leavetreadmarks]

[She is, although it appears as though she either very recently wasn't or intended not to be very shortly. She's yawning, but alert enough in and around that to be curious when she stops.]

Yeah? Uh, sure.

What's up?

[omar]

Had a few more thoughts about ol' you-know-who I might be up to sharing with you.

[leavetreadmarks]

[And now she's definitely awake.]

I'm listening.

[omar]

I don't talk on the phone much. I think that the other day was the most I've done so far.

[That part is actually true -- he wishes he'd dropped the call and met up with her, the way he'd used to with Bruce. Even if it's about something he doesn't mind other people overhearing, it makes him uncomfortable to think that they might be without his knowing it, or what they might do with that. He's seen what can happen: empires toppled by a single wrong word on tape.]

Come by your place?

DARK cw: stabbinz

[omar]

[The afternoon is when things really heat up. Omar hadn't been looking to really hurt anyone in the first set, but Dark is different. Of all the targets, he's the only one that provoked this outright.

...Of course, he provoked it by being way too hard to rob the first time, but. Details. Omar had been embarrassed, and embarrassing Omar Little is an unforgivable, mortal sin.

He'd been playing with the others. He's not playing with Dark. He does it so quickly and quietly that a passerby might not even notice until it was already done -- not that he lets it happen where anyone is passing by. He's been getting a sense of Dark's movements around the Barge for weeks now, and he knows just when and where to move on him. One minute, Dark is walking down an empty corridor. The next, Omar's behind him, slipping Jimmy Darmody's knife up into his ribs. He puts his lips close to Dark's ear.]

Told you I'd be back, boo.

[He kisses the side of Dark's head with an evil grin and yanks the knife back out.]

[apaintingdarkly]

[ By the time he realizes the danger the knife is in his back. He had time to begin summoning his wings, but there was no chance to erect a barrier. Feathers fall around him, mostly avoiding the slow drip of blood.

He grunts in pain as the knife comes out, a very useless hand trying to reach around and staunch the bleeding. He's seeing red, and it's not just blood. He turns as he falls, a look of inhuman rage on his face. ]

Bastard-

[ Is all he can say. He's bleeding hard and fast enough that he's already gone into shock. He falls in a little pile of blood and black feathers, struggling valiantly to remain conscious while he bleeds out. ]

ARTHAS

[omar]

[He probably should have saved Dark for last, but that had been carefully planned out enough that he'd been fairly sure of himself. Arthas... he's still a more unknown quantity, and Omar suspects that he's powerful enough even without his undead mojo that this might turn out to be really hard.

But the good thing about Arthas being a little unknown to Omar is that Omar is quite certain that he is very unknown to Arthas. Certain enough that he suspects there's no harm in trying the front door the good old-fashioned way. He ends the day as he started it: with a knock.]

[prodigalleader]

[Someone's outside.

Fifty ghouls have been crammed into Arthas' cabin since the Amsterdam port, going increasingly hungry. At the moment, they're under no one's control but their own and movement means people. People mean food.

The black metal of the door rattles as rotting bodies throw themselves against it from the inside. Fingernails rasp across it, and wordless growls are heard overtop.]

[omar]

[Hmm. That seems a little... portentous. Omar considers his next move, albeit quickly. He's definitely not backing out, but he has limited time before someone finds Dark and puts a stop to all of this.]

'Ayo. Arthas.

[He knocks again and calls through the door, the other hand slipping into his pocket for Jimmy's now-bloody knife. When the rattling continues and he gets no other replies, he decides to go for broke. There's an animal of some kind in there -- he can handle a guard dog.

Breaking into a Barge cabin is harder than breaking into a Baltimore tenement, but this one proves doable. He readies himself, readies his weapon, and then shoves the doors open as hard as he can into whatever waits behind them.]

[prodigalleader]

[The ghouls stumble back, screech. The ones in the front are disoriented, but behind them the light catches feral, wild eyes and sloughing flesh of the second row.

One climbs over its companions on all fours to leap at Omar, stubs of fingers clawing forward.]

[omar]

[Omar doesn't like to swear, but if he were ever to start, now would be a pretty good time. He hisses and scrambles back, slashing at the foremost ghoul.

This may have been a mistake.

He backs up further into the corridor, letting them spill out into the hallway, hoping to circle around them and back into the room when they're all out.]

[Private]

[mistconduct]

....What the FUCK is wrong with you?!


You fucking asshole!

[Private]

[omar]

[This is the best Omar's felt in ages. He hears Chris's voice rise in anger over the melee behind him, but he switches the communicator off as he flees. He'll get back to him, but not until after he's stashed the gauntlet and thrown himself into an empty cabin.

He's sitting against a blank and featureless wall when he turns the video back on. He's breathing hard, sweat beading on his forehead, but he looks entirely smug and self-satisfied.]

Told you something was coming, Warden. Not my fault you don't listen.

[Private]

[mistconduct]

[Chris, fumbling for the gun under his mattress, gets to his feet and starts storming out of the cabin]

You righteous little shithead. Fuck! Where the fuck are you?!

[Going to Omar's cabin first!]

[Gloriously public now]

[omar]

[He's definitely not in his own cabin: the place is small and shitty to the point of being practically condemned and very clearly empty. Meanwhile, Omar grins when he spots the gun and switches the feed quietly to public.]

'Chu gonna do with that piece there?

[Gloriously public now]

[mistconduct]

I'm gonna put a motherfucking cap in your ass is what I'm gonna do!

[Hold me closer, tiny gangster]

You are so fucking gone, shitheel!

[Gloriously public now]

[tucky]

Who'd you go after? What'd you do?