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welcometotheughbackup2007-05-04 03:06 pm
spunky-chocobo.livejournal.com) wrote in welcometotheughbackup2007-05-04 03:06 pm
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Who: Seifer, Zell, sleepy Squall
When: Not long after Squall’s bathroom beating
Where: Cell
What: Smuggling medicinal tools and devious plotting
Rating: PG13 (I’ll say, maybe for language and weird humor)
As soon as Zell got wind of Seifer’s distress, and it had to be distress because people smoked under stress and…the guy wanted a knife, no doubt to knife someone, Zell took off into action. The tattooed blonde wasn’t sure of the particulars only that his companion had seemed ready to go out and hustle some guys for harassing his cellmate. Zell suspected, though, that there was something…at least some underlying attraction between Seifer and his roommate. Zell was not the jealous type, he’d seen jealousy in it’s many forms and it made a person unreasonable. He was a happy-go-lucky individual, but he really wasn’t too sure where to put his own swiftly growing feelings for the tall blonde except to mask it as friendship and have the other continue to tease him. It made it easier to hate someone if they teased you often enough, but Zell found that very difficult to do as well. He also understood that love and hate served the same purpose.
He was just too confused to think that far ahead, he wasn’t the sharpest pencil in the box, but he’d figure it out. Right now he knew someone else needed his efforts more. Zell didn’t know the cellmate’s name, what he looked like, or anything about him…but if Seifer liked him he had to be a good guy ne? Maybe he would like Zell to, who knew. Also, it made the short blonde increasingly angry, the thought the guys could walk around so freely and beat up on a person. It was tasteless, and from the sound of it it seemed like many guys…if the little blonde looked at Seifer’s cellmate hard enough he could probably figure it out without asking too many questions. Why, because he was talkative, and people who talked a lot could find the truth or tell the truth…he couldn’t remember which one.
In any case he went to the medical wing to pick up supplies using his hand as an excuse. He already had an ointment that his mother had given him; he snagged it out of his locker. It was good for burns and cuts and scrapes and contusions…kind of a fix all. He left the medical facilities perhaps with more than what he needed, but he claimed it would prevent him from having to make a return visit any time soon. He’d just have to deal with his own hand carefully. With The bandages tucked under his arms and the magazine curled up tightly in his back pocket he moved along carefully peeking into the cells to find the one housing Seifer and his cellmate. It took a bit of sleuthing and he got a few irritated glares from popping into the wrong ones a few times, but he finally found Seifer’s place of residence. It was a stretch for him, but he managed only to wave and to keep his voice at a dull roar, “yo, how’s he doin’?”
When: Not long after Squall’s bathroom beating
Where: Cell
What: Smuggling medicinal tools and devious plotting
Rating: PG13 (I’ll say, maybe for language and weird humor)
As soon as Zell got wind of Seifer’s distress, and it had to be distress because people smoked under stress and…the guy wanted a knife, no doubt to knife someone, Zell took off into action. The tattooed blonde wasn’t sure of the particulars only that his companion had seemed ready to go out and hustle some guys for harassing his cellmate. Zell suspected, though, that there was something…at least some underlying attraction between Seifer and his roommate. Zell was not the jealous type, he’d seen jealousy in it’s many forms and it made a person unreasonable. He was a happy-go-lucky individual, but he really wasn’t too sure where to put his own swiftly growing feelings for the tall blonde except to mask it as friendship and have the other continue to tease him. It made it easier to hate someone if they teased you often enough, but Zell found that very difficult to do as well. He also understood that love and hate served the same purpose.
He was just too confused to think that far ahead, he wasn’t the sharpest pencil in the box, but he’d figure it out. Right now he knew someone else needed his efforts more. Zell didn’t know the cellmate’s name, what he looked like, or anything about him…but if Seifer liked him he had to be a good guy ne? Maybe he would like Zell to, who knew. Also, it made the short blonde increasingly angry, the thought the guys could walk around so freely and beat up on a person. It was tasteless, and from the sound of it it seemed like many guys…if the little blonde looked at Seifer’s cellmate hard enough he could probably figure it out without asking too many questions. Why, because he was talkative, and people who talked a lot could find the truth or tell the truth…he couldn’t remember which one.
In any case he went to the medical wing to pick up supplies using his hand as an excuse. He already had an ointment that his mother had given him; he snagged it out of his locker. It was good for burns and cuts and scrapes and contusions…kind of a fix all. He left the medical facilities perhaps with more than what he needed, but he claimed it would prevent him from having to make a return visit any time soon. He’d just have to deal with his own hand carefully. With The bandages tucked under his arms and the magazine curled up tightly in his back pocket he moved along carefully peeking into the cells to find the one housing Seifer and his cellmate. It took a bit of sleuthing and he got a few irritated glares from popping into the wrong ones a few times, but he finally found Seifer’s place of residence. It was a stretch for him, but he managed only to wave and to keep his voice at a dull roar, “yo, how’s he doin’?”