(no subject)

[cactusy]

1) Post your characters, one per comment
2) Go around with your characters and have them ask other characters questions-- anything goes!
3) Forced honesty time! Lying is impossible because of reasons
4) ICly discuss the confessions and revelations

Comments

[salamanca]

Never heard of it. I take it we're not from the same place.

[ Lalo understands that kind of hate; he feels it too. The kind that seeps all the way through you and into your bones and your muscles and the sockets of your eyes until you're nothing but hate, the kind that makes you think of nothing but how you want to destroy someone, annihilate them utterly in the most painful way possible. Whoever this hate is directed at, Lalo can imagine this "Levi" feels the way about them that he feels about the Chicken Man.

Lalo gets it, man. He gets it. ]

I am sorry to hear that. I know it won't make you feel better to hear it, but something similar happened to me. A "man" [ snort ], if you can call him that, sent a team of assassins to my home to kill me. I was the only survivor.

They brutalized my staff. Shot my housekeeper in the back. They killed a 17-year-old boy. The whole time, the man who ordered the attack was safe in another country, not getting his own hands dirty, like the coward he is.

But you didn't want to hear about me! What about you? Who killed your subordinates, Levi? [ Lalo waits for an answer. Interested. ] What are you going to do them when you catch them?

[wingbound]

Guess not.

[ It's a little irritating how this guy doesn't offer the same information in return, apparently expecting Levi to just take his word for it. But then, he finds that he doesn't particularly care where the man is from. From what he's witnessed of the people here, the name he hears would probably tell him nothing anyway. ]

...Sorry to hear that.

[ He mimics, somewhat awkwardly, but the sentiment rings genuine. It does sound like he might understand Levi's feelings pretty well. There's another little pause before he answers, reluctantly, as if he's supposed to pay for each word that leaves his mouth. ]

His name is Zeke Jaeger. I stuck an explosive in his abdomen, rigged to go off if he squirms too much, and cut off his legs.

[ He explains everything in that same quiet, expressionless tone of his, a chilling dissonance with the content of his words, and vaguely gestures around his mid-calf to signify where exactly he'd cut. Right here. ]

...I wanted to make it last.

[ After all, a quick death would be too merciful for that fucking monkey. Too bad that this goddamn island, apparently, decided to interfere. ]