Picture Prompt Meme

[memeconsolidation]

the picture prompt meme ( or, alternatively, find the shipping picture prompt meme here @ alternatings ) I — Comment with your character. II — Others will leave a picture (or two, or three...) III — Reply to them with a setting based on the picture. IV — Link to any pictures that are NSFW, please. V — Be aware that this meme will be image-heavy. Link to an image: <a href="IMAGEURL">TEXT</a> Embed image in your reply: <img src=""> Image width and height: <img src="IMAGEURL" width="500" OR img src="IMAGEURL" height="INSERT">

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Jean Louis Girard | OC

[jleng]

combine as you wish.

[wellguifford]

@ memory lane

[jleng]

[Even at 2 am on a week day, parts of City remained vivacious, as if the only difference between day and night hinged on a person's ability to light up their affairs adequately, that was, through sufficient means and with sufficient interests. In certain old blocks of flats, there were flares of red gleaming from behind half-dirty windows and in others, you could almost taste the sweet-smelling smoke filling up the living rooms. Jean Louis thought of the Pigsty as a microcosmic blueprint of their kingdom, his and Marcel's - after all, most of it looked alike across Europe; the basics of it.

Right now, they'd left the car behind on a nearby street corner because he'd insisted on walking to their destination. He had a rooftop he wanted to re-visit and Marcel would either be happy to tag along or he'd be grumbling all the way. Didn't matter - it wasn't like he had anywhere better to be, now was it? Off they went.]

[wellguifford]

[JL had these fucking ideas sometimes, like, he needed to find some shit they hadn't touched or seen or heard so he could touch or see or hear it, if it wasn't out of some weird sense of nostalgia, which was even worse, that he took them back to some corner of other where they'd hung out when they were eleven years and three months old or some other crappy excuse for a reason to go somewhere in the middle of the night, when they could be out, eating Burger King or at home, fucking or, you know, useful stuff. Even so, Marcel had abandoned the car without a single word, followed the other man through streets that were, if nothing else, so fucking familiar that he hardly even needed to pay attention, because everyone around this neighborhood knew who he was, who they were. They'd be left the fuck alone as long as they wanted to.

Finally, when the old building came into view, Marcel just stopped in his tracks, staring at the moth-eaten remains of their childhood hide-out, snorting loudly. Seriously, was the man possessed or some shit? Those walls looked about ready to crumble already. Fuck, if they were gonna carry Marcel's entire fucking weight on its own, let alone what they weighed combined.]

If you're paying me to keep you alive, you ass-wipe, I'm telling you, we should wait till they build the new place.

[jleng]

[He didn't pause, leaving Marcel standing there with his obsolete commentary. A glance over one shoulder:]

That's not an option.

[Moving on, he didn't elaborate - if the other man was desperate enough, he had a very well-functioning tongue and words to match. Instead, he walked by a shaky entrance sign, whatever writing was on it long since atrophied, and continued through the empty construction site in front of the building. Back in the days, it used to be just another block of flats, then the state bought it for projects that never really came to fruition; nobody in the Pigsty wanted state-funded services anyway, they'd rather solve their problems behind closed doors, off the records. Eventually, the building slowly fell apart whilst people in City Council tried to pretend it wasn't really there at all. This area just wasn't a high-priority political goal - at least not until Liberté entered the picture. With a very thin smile, he headed towards the front entrance, which was almost completely shrouded in darkness. He paused. Waited for Marcel to catch up.]

[wellguifford]

[It was always so fucking simple with JL, right? Either you followed or you didn't, in whatever sense of the word, and because they'd grown up together, because Marcel had already saved the other man's fucking ass in every fucking way that was meaningful, Marcel kept trailing along, because saving JL was fucking everyday life, it was the life he'd gotten used to, the life he'd chosen. Pa might not understand it, enough people had belittled him for it underground, but hey. He kicked their asses nicely as a thank you. Following JL would never be a problem, no one could stop him, a shitty fucking building sure wouldn't make any difference either.

So, as JL continued through the construction site, Marcel followed, one hand on his official gun in his belt, the other ghosting over the not-so-official weapon near his waist on the other side. If someone wanted to off Augustus now, this could be their chance, JL was sure thing making it fucking easy for them and difficult on Marcel, shit. The building he couldn't do shit about, but the people that might lurk in the shadows? More ass-kicking, more thank yous. He grinned stupidly at the thought, coming to a halt next to JL. Glanced up at the dark construction in front of them.]

Did you leave a treasure of history books or some shit here thirty years ago or what they fuck are we doing?

[jleng]

[History books. Charming. He took a few seconds before answering, watching the shadows play across exposed metal beams and low-hanging electrical cords. This was definitely not a playground.]

The view from the roof used to be fantastic, didn't it? I want to make sure I remember it right.

[Stepping inside carefully, footsteps almost impossibly light, he ducked to avoid something that he couldn't quite make out. Piping, perhaps. It was difficult to clearly make out individual elements on the ground floor, but he thought he could glimpse the outline of what used to be a long counter. Heading for the broken glass door off to the right, he decided that the fire escape might be their best bet. The darkness was thick, only broken up minimally by lights from the outside street lamps and if Marcel hadn't been here, he probably would have hyper-ventilated the entire way. As it were, he breathed easily. Undisturbed.]

After all, in a few week's time... [He gestured loosely with one hand, keeping his voice quiet.] This whole place might very well be ours.

[wellguifford]

[Marcel followed without a word, ducking under exposed piping, electrical cords, stepping across large cracks in the base, what other crap had been left behind by the times, you know. JL rambled about the view and wasn't that just fucking romantic, shit. He kept a close eyes on the perimeter, following every shadow with his eyes until they all eventually diffused into darkness, contrasts to the street lights barely visible outside the broken windows. Fuck, a hellhole. Sure, it used to be their thing, but times changed, huh. Shit, how times changed. The building and them. They'd risen above, whereas the building was fucking crumbling to the ground.

Ours. He raised an eyebrow, not that JL would see it from this angle or in this fucking dimness, but hey, the gesture had to count, right? So, there was a plan with this fuckass madness, he had plans for this place, then again... When the fuck didn't JL have plans? He was Marcel's Plan the Man or some other shitty name to the same function. If they bought the building, they bought the view and they did have a lot of key spots within viewing distance, huh. That might be useful, fuck, that might really come in handy. In time. All in due time.]

Gonna need to touch up the interior. [He made note of it. They could leave the exterior in whatever state would keep people out of their business, right, but they'd need a fully functioning interior to fucking use this shit for anything at all.] Or you're gonna end up breaking your leg or your fucking neck. Can't shoot gravity for you.

[jleng]

[The fire escape looked only slightly less dilapidated than the rest of the building, stretching upwards in uneven lines of rusty metal steps. He looked at it for only a couple of seconds. In this world, you could certainly choose to be careful, pick the safer solution and Marcel was very right - this place seemed about ready to eat them. But this was their neighborhood, this building used to be just another castle on the road, another road to the stars and he simply wasn't afraid enough to stay on the ground tonight. Instead, he took the first couple of steps carefully, the metal frame groaning loudly beneath his weight.]

I'm thinking - a station, first, temporary. Intercepting our mules from Amsterdam, give them a chance to rest. [Pause. The steps were trembling slightly and he slowed down somewhat. Kept his gaze focused on the next step. Always the next.] Make sure they end up where they're supposed to, yes? And second, a warehouse. Smack in the middle of metropolis.

[The sky looked black, still. They weren't yet above streetlight-level.]