deathsdoctor (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
deathsdoctor) wrote2011-12-19 07:37 pm
deathsdoctor) wrote2011-12-19 07:37 pm
014 [Action/possibly voice]
[ Not too long before the draftees are returned to Luceti, all snug and cosily tucked in their beds (or in random and embarrassing drop-off points in the enclosure – whatever works), a figure cloaked and hooded in black staggers into the village. Weaving like he’s dead drunk – reality? Dead tired – he occasionally trips and catches himself…
… and then…
… and then just faceplants in a snow drift when it becomes one trip too many. He’s just going to just stay there for a moment. He feels like shit.]
Ughhhhh.
[Yeah. That’s enough of that. Picking himself up and dusting himself off, the figure reveals himself to be Trafalgar Law, freshly returned from one month full of missions.
Armed to the teeth. Worn to the bone and bleary eyed. And apparently lei’d.
… no, you aren’t imagining things - there is a tacky plastic floral garland hanging around his neck. Like you’d get on some cheap tropical vacation.
Don’t you dare suggest he’s been on one, folks.
And when he looks around, finally registering the Christmas lights and the general emptiness of the village, he mutters…]
Oi… what I’d miss?
[Go ahead. Spoil histriumphant tired return and tell him about all the draftees about to drop in. The draftees that possibly and quite probably need medical attention.
It isn’t like he desperately wants to find a bed and get some sleep. And it isn’t like he desperately needs that sleep either.
Not at all.]
… and then…
… and then just faceplants in a snow drift when it becomes one trip too many. He’s just going to just stay there for a moment. He feels like shit.]
Ughhhhh.
[Yeah. That’s enough of that. Picking himself up and dusting himself off, the figure reveals himself to be Trafalgar Law, freshly returned from one month full of missions.
Armed to the teeth. Worn to the bone and bleary eyed. And apparently lei’d.
… no, you aren’t imagining things - there is a tacky plastic floral garland hanging around his neck. Like you’d get on some cheap tropical vacation.
Don’t you dare suggest he’s been on one, folks.
And when he looks around, finally registering the Christmas lights and the general emptiness of the village, he mutters…]
Oi… what I’d miss?
[Go ahead. Spoil his
It isn’t like he desperately wants to find a bed and get some sleep. And it isn’t like he desperately needs that sleep either.
Not at all.]
[voice]
[And the sounds of village life are falling away, to be replaced by the sounds of flapping winds and the whistle of wind as they pass through the air.
But Marco isn't taking him to House 22.
He's taking Law to what he thinks is Law's home.
He's taking Law to you.]
[voice]
[Or sooner than he expects. He'll just be putting together a meal for himself and his cat.]
[voice]
Later.
[Quite a bit sooner. He'll be on the roof in a few moments.]