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discedo_logs2008-04-24 06:39 pm
generalism.livejournal.com) wrote in discedo_logs2008-04-24 06:39 pm
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Who: Cross, Lavi, Razer, Renji, von Karma. IS THAT RIGHT? (order Cross > Lavi > ??? > ??? > von Karma)
Where: Around the residential areas.
When: During the first day of rain. MUDFIGHTS EVERYWHERE.
Rating: PG-13 or so for language and potential violence.
Summary: Mudfighting. Passerbys getting caught in the crossfire. Chaos.
the log:
Cross enjoyed rain, he really did, but he did not enjoy his pathetic excuse for a roof leaking right on to his head. Maybe it was God's way of telling him to get off his ass. He had a few people to see, and all of that. That survey girl, his Best Bar Owner Friend, the Noah. Probably needed to track the brats down again, too.
Whatever. He'd get it all done. Eventually. Maybe.
By damned, he was well on his way, as it were. Striding along with Maria's box in tow, right out in the open as though the rain wasn't even there. A little water never hurt anyone, after all. He didn't mind a cleansing rinse. But what he did mind was the glob of mud that came sailing through the air, landing with a splat against the centre of his chest.
It, of course, meant fucking war. Alas, the only thing he saw of his attacker was a streak of red. And unfortunately for any other redheads, Cross was ready to release the fury immediately upon sight of anything even remotely resembling crimson.
As his undoubtedly shitty luck would have it, he ended up hitting the wrong one. "Whoops, wrong redhead. My bad," he drawled with a wry grin.
Still. It was oddly satisfying, even if his victim had been an innocent.
Where: Around the residential areas.
When: During the first day of rain. MUDFIGHTS EVERYWHERE.
Rating: PG-13 or so for language and potential violence.
Summary: Mudfighting. Passerbys getting caught in the crossfire. Chaos.
the log:
Cross enjoyed rain, he really did, but he did not enjoy his pathetic excuse for a roof leaking right on to his head. Maybe it was God's way of telling him to get off his ass. He had a few people to see, and all of that. That survey girl, his Best Bar Owner Friend, the Noah. Probably needed to track the brats down again, too.
Whatever. He'd get it all done. Eventually. Maybe.
By damned, he was well on his way, as it were. Striding along with Maria's box in tow, right out in the open as though the rain wasn't even there. A little water never hurt anyone, after all. He didn't mind a cleansing rinse. But what he did mind was the glob of mud that came sailing through the air, landing with a splat against the centre of his chest.
It, of course, meant fucking war. Alas, the only thing he saw of his attacker was a streak of red. And unfortunately for any other redheads, Cross was ready to release the fury immediately upon sight of anything even remotely resembling crimson.
As his undoubtedly shitty luck would have it, he ended up hitting the wrong one. "Whoops, wrong redhead. My bad," he drawled with a wry grin.
Still. It was oddly satisfying, even if his victim had been an innocent.