Let's Be Bad Guys

[sonickey]

Some days just scream for mayhem, mischief and general badness. Today everyone gets to enjoy the perks of being the ‘bad guy’ and indulge in some bad behavior with your partner in crime. Here’s the drill:



1. Comment and indicate your character’s name, fandom and who you're open to (i.e-OTA, Canon mates only, etc).
2. Pick another character to comment to and using RNG, pick a bad behavior for you two to indulge.
3. Have fun!



WARNING: This meme has the potential to be dark should writers take that way. Remember, it’s about being bad so that means there could be murder, assault, general violence, smut, swearing and possibly even puppy kicking. Okay, not the last one (seriously, animals are adorable please don’t kick them) but definitely the former and more so consider yourself warned.


1: Armed robbery – Your pocket is feeling a little light so it’s time to get a withdrawal from your local 7-11 or liquor store or bank or whatever. Of course, all great heists are done in pairs so it’s time for some teamwork!

2: Shoplifting – Time to indulge in a five finger discount and naturally you’re going to need to someone to be your lookout, right? Whether they want to be or not because someone’s got to keep the shop clerk busy.

3: Street brawl – You want to fight and you don’t care with whom. Pick a fight with a random passerby, the person who looks at you funny or even your partner if you’re so inclined. Just don’t be surprised when the cops drop by to break it up.

4: Con job – The perfect con isn’t just a criminal act, it’s an art form. Be smooth, be slick and together you two might just manage to pull this off. Or maybe you won’t but either way it’ll be fun finding out.

5: Homicide – Maybe there’s someone you want out of your life but you need help bumping them off. Maybe it was an accident that left you two dealing with a dead body. Maybe you’re hit men/women for hire. The point is someone’s going to die thanks to you and your partner.

6: Car theft – Nothing like a joy ride to spruce up a boring night so take your partner out for a high speed chase. Will you get arrested? Or get away from the cops? Or pull a Thelma and Louise?

7: Break and enter – Are you a creepy thief breaking into some poor person’s house? Or a international art thief breaking into a highly guarded mansion? Or maybe you’re just some punk kids breaking into an abandoned house for shits and giggles? The choice is yours!

8: World domination – Screw this petty criminal stuff, you like to go big or go home and what’s bigger than world domination? Channel your inner Dr. Evil and set about crushing the world governments under your thumb. Of course, world domination is easy said than done.

9: Choose your own adventure – Make up a criminal act of your own or pick something from the list.

[borrowed from livejournal's memebells]

Comments

Jean Louis Duroc | Silver Wolf (modern AU) | OTA

[population_ctrl]

8 - Why am I not surprised...

[capuletguarddog]

[Tybalt hates getting stuck working under someone else, but he can't argue with the fact that this man has big plans, and ones that involve a rather enjoyable amount of mayhem. So he'll play nice for now. It's at least entertaining]

You won't be satisfied until the whole world's at you feet will you?

[It's an observation, not a criticism]

[population_ctrl]

[Just one eyebrow going up at that. He opens his briefcase, going through the papers and searching for one folder in particular.]

I just want a bit of order. Coherency.

[Ah, there it is. Keeping the papers out of Tybalt's view for now, he glances up at him.]

What's your excuse?

[capuletguarddog]

[A predator's smile]

I like being on the winning team.

[population_ctrl]

[Chuckle.]

Of course you do.

[Aaaaand there he goes, holding out the folder for Tybalt. It may or may not include, like, +200 pages of written text.]

Information you'll need. I want eyes on the Italian underground.

[capuletguarddog]

[He accepts the folder, though his eyes widen at the weight. It'll take him days to get through all this]

Paperwork's your thing. Just give me the basics, I don't need all of this.

[population_ctrl]

Yes you do.

[Pause. Eyes narrowing slightly.]

Unless you can't use it. Illiterate?

[capuletguarddog]

[Eyes narrow and his lip curls up slightly, baring teeth. He's never been good at hiding his emotions. But he does manage to avoid lashing out physically at the insult. Which is saying something for him.]

I can read just fine.

This had better not just be some sitting around watching shit sort of job.

[population_ctrl]

[... he'd comment on the boy's sudden agitation but - well. Either way. In this line of business, being unable to read isn't necessarily an insult, is it? Lord knows Marcel needs his stick figures.]

Oh? What sort of job would you prefer, then?

[capuletguarddog]

I like doing things. Not sitting on my ass.

[population_ctrl]

So. You want to run errands? Play the messenger?

[He leans forward, eyes narrowing very slightly.]

Or did you want some actual influence?

[capuletguarddog]

I want to do something important. Something that gets results.

[population_ctrl]

[Smiiiile.]

How about killing someone?

5 | because it's canon

[dealwith_them]

[The stove is on, thawing out a large portion of Pappje's frozen lamb stew while they're making themselves comfortable like fucking kings - with Pappje watching football in the living room, volume loud enough to grant them a good deal of anonymity. Not that it's needed; Pappje's discreet. Thing is, if Marcel was beginning to have doubts in regards to that Barrault daughter JL's so fucking keen on, they're gone now. It seems JL really does want daddy dearest dead and it's more than fine by him. Just more power for the sharing once the old man is out of the way. Plus, you have to be a little proud of little bro - best rite of passage, right there.

He leans back in his chair. Takes a drink of his beer and raises an eyebrow at JL.]

So?

[population_ctrl]

[That stew is starting to smell really, really good. The beer is average but the company is... appropriate. Everything considered. He glances up at Marcel before checking his phone for messages. Just to ascertain that yes, indeed, Mireille has yet to answer any of his texts. Not a sound from her, not since the old man put his foot down. Put it down good, didn't he. Pathetic fool.]

You're going to have to speak to Roux. [His voice is sharp with underlying anger.] I keep asking him for updates on the gun, he keeps giving me excuses. And the import clearance is days away, at most.

[dealwith_them]

You're acting like you've got fucking PMS, JL.

[Another long swing of his beer. Fuck, that's good beer. Imported from Holland, home brewed in some gutter house there. Don't get any better. Besides, he's already talked to Roux and he's working on it. It's just JL getting jittery with newbie impatience. The old man will be dead by the end of next week, they just need to make the fucking plans work. Instead of getting caught up in shitty details that don't matter in the long run.]

[population_ctrl]

[A huff of anger.]

Shut up. It's been half a year, you would have died.

[And it hasn't been for lack of trying. He's written her multiple times, called her as well with no result. Completely controlled by her father, like he controls everything. To his own satisfaction, regardless of... well. Who cares. He sips his beer, grimacing slightly at the sour taste. In a few weeks, Barrault will be history. And this waiting game will be finished in turn.]

[dealwith_them]

[He laughs. Gets up and walks over to the stove, checking on the stew. Pappje's cooking is the best, even better than his own. He's still got a lot to learn from his old man. In comparison to the trouble JL has with that his. Old man. Who's made it impossible for him to get fucking laid for fucking six months. Nothing's Marcel's said or done has helped him get over himself and just fuck someone else. That's still a bit disturbing. She's just a girl, get over it.]

I would have just fucking fucked someone else, shitwit.

[He stirs. Slowly. He isn't really worried, though. Barrault will die a horrific death. JL will get the kingdom and the princess and they'll shag and everything will be back to normal. Fucking hooray.]

[population_ctrl]

No class.

[He waves it off, like he's done for the past many months. Marcel doesn't understand and, more importantly, he's not expected to. So long as he works for his wage, everything else is secondary.]

I want that gun on my table before noon, tomorrow. [Sigh.] Next week, Marcel. I'm not waiting any longer.

[dealwith_them]

[Stir, stir, stir. The smell is to fucking die for. Fixing them both a bowl, Marcel walks back to the table and sits down, pushing one in JL's general direction. Ok, so. Those plans? Now.]

Better not touch it, JL. We don't want your shitty fingerprints anywhere. [A second's pause while he tastes the stew. Oh, fucking perfection.] I'll send you a text when I have it.

[population_ctrl]

[Frown. Oh, that food smells delicious. And after 10 hours of non-stop meetings, he's starving. Showing immense restraint, he waits before picking up the fork.]

No, I need to see it. [Fork, meet hand. Countdown in 5... 4...] Can't trust you to check it properly.

[dealwith_them]

Oh, fuck you.

[Nom nom nom. He glances up at JL every so often while he eats, a frown creeping onto his face. He gets the caution, sure, but JL's proving to be a paranoid freak of nature.]

I'll know more about that gun at one look than you will after an hour of scrutinizing it, you fucking moron.

[population_ctrl]

[Okay, resolve abandoned. Digging into the food, he throws all table manners to the winds because damn it, he's hungry beyond belief. At Marcel's last comment he glares up, a piece of meat dangling from his fork. Tantalizing.]

We're talking about details. Stuff you never bother to look for because you're a crazy psychopath. [Munch, munch. Good stuff.] I want to see it. I don't want a text. Just do as I say.

[dealwith_them]

[LOL, crazy psychopath. Smiling, he puts his fork down and leans back in his chair again, hands behind his head. Marcel knows that JL knows he wouldn't be anywhere without him. He also knows that there's a reason JL has trusted him with the assignment in the first place. They're even, even if JL's still a little shitwit with a weird sex drive.]

Sure, whatever. [A pause. Smile widening.] He's seen me around enough to be able to recognise me. Before I put a fucking bullet to his brain, he'll know you did it, JL.

[population_ctrl]

[Chew, chew, ch - pause. At the thought. Because for at least five seconds, the mental image lingers. Of Barrault, facing Marcel and knowing, understanding finally... but dying. Of course. In the end, understanding simply comes too late. That's how the world works and there's no need to regret it. Even so, he doesn't look up from his stew as he takes another bite.]

He should have known ages ago.