016. action. closed. backdated to 03/12.

[strikeraid]

Who: Raye and some piece of trash she found behind a 7-11 last Wednesday.
When: Last Wednesday.
Where: Behind a 7-11.
What: Raye finds a piece of trash.
Warnings: Skyler is his own warning. I hope that together they will create an entirely new and exciting warning never seen before by Locke City.

The sun's already set and the streetlights are flickering on in the streets. There's partially thawed snow on the ground, gray and slushy and gross. The moped that ran Skyler over fucked off about five minutes ago, leaving Skyler flat on his back, a tire tread across his shirt and red slurpee everywhere, sprayed into the snow and all over Skyler's clothes. This is a trash disaster. The faux murder of Skyler Veracruz couldn't have happened fast enough I mean long ago. Clearly this is the perfect time for a friendship filled with gentle sympathy and mutual respect to begin.

Skyler is currently blacked out, but he'll find his way to reality soon. Shove some snow down his shirt and it is bound to happen faster.

Comments

Gosh tell us how you really feel about Skyler

[guitar_case_vagabond]

Raye had simple expectations for a Wednesday night with no school the next day. Go for a walk to avoid the crap out of dad, and head into a 7-11 to grab a quick snack. Sour warheads, in case anyone was wondering.

She'd even discovered she didn't have to give up wearing normal clothes to keep Senketsu around. The sentient uniform was perfectly capable of living in more than one piece and some quick improvisation with the scarf holding his eye and she was back in something that was actually comfortable to wear in this weather. Yep. This was a good day to be her.

... At least it was until she came across the scene of total loser being such a loser grisly murder oh my fucking god!

"HOLY FUCK!" She practically jumps back through the air when she comes across the douchiest of corpses, scattering sour candies all over the place.

It's a few seconds before she dares to inch closer, swallowing and peering at the dead guy.

"H-hey..." wait a minute. Dead guys don't breathe. And since when is blood bright cherry red...?

Horror gives way to flat disbelief in a flash.

"Are you fucking kidding?" She looks around for a second before reaching down and scooping up a handful of cherry Slurpee-infused snow and panacking him one in the face with it.

She is a gentle and sympathetic soul.

no. do not ask me this. *it will get embarrassing.*

[strikeraid]

The slush splatters over his face beautifully. It is a hole in one. A slam dunk. A success in the sports. Every sport. 10/10, okay that tastes like gritty cherry ass, ugh.

He groans, then flails awkwardly, sputtering and sending slush flying. He is soaked and he barely has any idea what happened. What... Did happen, exactly? He closes his eyes, checking that his contacts are in, then rubs at his face, trying to get his brain up to speed.

"... Shit. Yo, the fuck was that for?" He glares into the darkness. The streetlights are not warmed up enough just yet, he can't quite make out his assailant just yet. Hang on, turning his night vision on -- OH WAIT, THAT'S A CHICK. Backpedaling, backpedaling mentally and very quickly. Wait, doesn't he know her?

Embarrassing for who though?

[guitar_case_vagabond]

This is no "chick" you find yourself dealing with, Skyler Veracruz.

Raye steps back out of range of the slush spray, shaking the snow off her hand before shoving her hands back into her pockets and casting a mournful glance at her scattered candy. She tilts her head a little bit at Douche Corpse when his brain kicks in enough to start using words again. Doesn't she know that voice from somewhere?

"To wake you up, dumbass." She leans closer a little bit, getting a closer look at that... tire track on him? What the fuck? Even if she looks different right now, the freaky-ass eye on that scarf of hers might jog some memories. "What the fuck happened to you anyway?"