InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "You love me so much!"

Carcer Dun (mister_dun) wrote,
@ 2008-01-01 01:33:00

Current location:	Outside the cafe. With a knife.
Entry tags:	jt, rp scene

Carcer grins even wider (if such a thing is even possible) when he sees the hotel. MOtel, really, though some might say the other prefix is...more appropriate to this sort of establishment. Carcer doesn't care--anyway, he's more or less drenched in blood from the waist up, and though he's carrying a ~~white~~ mostly reddish handbag under his arm it suggests more of an intrest in sharp, pointy objects than in musical theatre.

He turns to JT. "Looks just like home, haha."

Even though it's barely past noon, the "O" in the sign's "MOTEL" flickers. It's not really trashy otherwise.

"Right down to the lightning...."

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	herfatherseyes 2008-01-03 02:10 am UTC (link)
	While JT's clothes are likewise soaked, their darkness makes it slightly less obvious. Only slightly. She eyes the motel, hands clasped behind her back. "Does it?" The place wouldn't be her first choice, or even her second, but Carcer seems to like it. Besides, she wouldn't be staying there. So she beams, and bounces on her heels. "I suppose we should go in, then." (Reply to this) (Thread)

	mister_dun 2008-01-03 02:33 am UTC (link)
	Just like home, except that he's never actually seen a modern-day motel before. And while he could probably break one of the doors down if he really wanted to, it'd be a lot more convenient to figure out where they keep the keys. He gestures somewhat vaguely towards the building. "Ladies first, miss, haha." (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

	herfatherseyes 2008-01-03 03:02 am UTC (link)
	Giggling, JT mimes a curtsy with a little flourish. "Thank you, Mister Dun." She walks up to the front office with a skip in her step, trusting Carcer to follow. Briefly, she wonders if their blood-covered state is going to be a problem. She sort of hopes so. (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

mister_dun
2008-01-03 03:19 am UTC (link)

There's a young woman behind the counter, probably not more than twenty-one or -two years old, with badly-dyed black hair enough metal in her ears, lips, nose, and eyebrows to stick a magnet to her face. "Hey," she mumbles, smacking her gum. She doesn't look up from the magazine she's reading. "I think number eight's open. Ten bucks a night." Squelch, squelch, SMACK.

"...ten what?" Earth currency is apparently quite weird. What do they call a groat then, a "doe"?

The girl stops her chewing for a moment, and he can practically see the gears turning inside her (magnetically-) attractive head.

She looks up. "Dude. Dude. You're British."

And then she notices the blood....

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herfatherseyes
2008-01-03 03:47 am UTC (link)

JT dislikes the girl from the start, made obvious by the sudden scowl. The gum-smacking does not help one little bit. Disgusting. Already her fingers are itching to grab her knife and lodge it in the girl's decorative face.

However, Carcer's confusion makes her giggle. That's right, money was different on the Disc, wasn't it? Her parents rarely spoke of the Disc (Nny hadn't been too fond of it), so there were several things she had forgotten. She'd have to explain it to him later.

And when the girl's eyes widen upon seeing the blood, JT smiles again. "What's wrong, miss? Is there a problem?"

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mister_dun
2008-01-03 03:56 am UTC (link)

It takes a moment for the words to make their way from her eardrum to her brain. "Uh...you're all...bloody and stuff."

"Plane accident?" volunteers Carcer, with a grin. He really doesn't know what he's saying, but since when has that stopped him? "Ran out of gasleen an' got a little...scratched up, is all, haha."

"Huh?"

"We still got yer ten ducks, though," he says, indicating the purse. They've still got knives, too, but she doesn't need to know that.

((I'll probably have to get off pretty soon, but hopefully I'll be able to get on tomorrow night.))

((By the by, what sort of accent does JT have?))

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herfatherseyes
2008-01-16 03:43 am UTC (link)

"Oh. I'm aware of that, thank you. But really, Miss, that's no reason to stare. Staring is quite rude, you know."

It would have taken far too much effort to keep herself from laughing at Carcer's explanation, so she doesn't. She does cover her mouth with her ~~rather bloody~~ hand, though, in an attempt to stifle her giggles. That becomes much harder to do at 'ducks'.

((GOD I'M SUCH A BAD RPER um yeah hi 8D;))

((Scottish. Ish. She doesn't have a very heavy accent, since she's been living in America for most of her life, but it's still noticeable. Am I making any sense? :B))

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	mister_dun 2008-01-21 09:52 pm UTC (link)
	"...I don't think I'm even gonna ask," says the girl. She sighs exasperatedly. "Look, you hand over the money, I give you the key, and we don't talk about whatever it was that happened to you, m'kay?" Carcer narrows his eyes at her. "Right...but you were the one wot asked." (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

	herfatherseyes 2008-02-10 02:54 am UTC (link)
	((headdesks)) JT nods enthusiastically, face serious. "He's right. You wanted to know." Well, it seems that bloodshed has been avoided. For now, anyway. She's fairly certain that the other girl's usefulness won't hold out for very long, and then... well. She smiles. Gotta see where it goes from there. (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

	mister_dun 2008-02-11 05:43 pm UTC (link)
	The girl turns around for a moment, takes a key off one of the hooks behind the desk, and hands it over. "Number eight. On the left." She goes back to reading her magazine. Carcer looks at JT with a "what now?" expression on his face. (Reply to this) (Parent)