bindsthedead | IC CONTACT POST

IC CONTACT POST

How do I- Oh! This is Sabriel- please leave a message at the-

So...that's the real trick. [Of course it was because they were weapons. America had openly stated that's all they were. And going crawling to them for transport...it edges at the corners of his heart.

But Sabriel was right--this was about more than just his pride. This was about fifty imPorts looking to him not to screw up. And like hell if he was going to let them beat him to rescuing them.]

I don't have to dress up do I.

Probably not, as long as you're wearing something appropriate for the weather.

But if it's what it takes to rescue them, I'll wear whatever's necessary- whether it's an American uniform or a bloody clown getup.

[There's a scowl at that--although surprisingly not the part of the sentence that Sabriel might think.]

Clowns.

[Well, at least he's not refusing the uniform.]

What? [Sabriel blinks, clearly Not Getting It.] I know some people think they're creepy, but they always seemed stupid to me.

[He doesn't blame her, it's pretty specific only to him, as he rocks back on his heels.]

A rival gang back home was called the Clowns. They were more of yakuza than mine--er...[Give him a moment, he's trying to find the right comparison for the word.]

Like...like the mafia.

Disgusting bastards who thought they ran the streets just cause they sprayed a little graffiti everywhere.

Ugly as hell, too.

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