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

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.

[dealwith_them]

[Snorting, Marcel returns to his bowl. Devours the last few bites of meat. Hungry like the wolf, yeah? Barrault has taken a shine to JL that has allowed them pretty free reigns in the underground too. So he's not going to complain about what's pretty much a fucking adoption, but fact remains... The man's been stupid to put any kind of trust in someone like JL.]

Fuck that shit. He'll know now.

[Stove. More stew. Return.]

[population_ctrl]

[The bowl's empty. Pushing it towards Marcel when he returns, he nods at it because a spoken order shouldn't be necessary. Everything considered. Then, he looks away, gaze growing slightly distant.]

I don't know.

[Little else said. He doesn't want to think about it and he doesn't want to deal with it; but the doubt is there and with it, a slight tinge of reluctance. It doesn't help that he's no longer starving; anger no longer maintained by physical frustration.]

[dealwith_them]

[He doesn't get the chance to sit down before JL is pushing his bowl towards him. Ordering him to fetch. Fuck that, he got his own dog. With an eyebrow raised, he returns to the stove and fixes him a portion. Generous, because. Bro. Back at the table, Marcel sits down and hands JL the bowl without great care. Maybe spilling a few bits of meat on the floor, who cares.]

We need the driver to be in the AA.

[population_ctrl]

[No comment on the food, though he does scowl slightly as he moves his foot out of harm's way, meat splashing onto the floor. At Marcel's words, however, he blinks. Slips back into the planning stage, other reflections put on hold for now. Out of necessity.]

Two options. A new, spicy background story for Pierre - [He grabs a bite, takes a moment to savour the taste] - or another driver entirely.

[dealwith_them]

[A moment to think. Marcel isn't a big planner himself, really - but he can look at any set-up and tell if there's a glitch in the construction. From miles away. That's why he and JL work together so well. JL does the thinking, Marcel does the rest. He won't complain about the division of labour, that's for sure.]

Better keep him. Anything else will be shit amateur work and seem too fucking suspicious.

[population_ctrl]

Alright.

[He's already making plans for it; how to construct the right background check, the right planting of information in all the best, least auspicious places. It's not the easy way, but with something like this, they aren't going to be sloppy.]

Good thing he's so old. Very few people left to remember what's up and down. But the ones who do...

[dealwith_them]

Short fucking list. Let me see it when you have it, I'll deal with them.

[Smile. Smiiiiile. This is the kind of work he lives for. The kind of work that makes him stick around JL like a good doggy, despite all the political chitchat and constant challenges in the underground because of it. Not just the killing, but the chance to see people tremble before he sends them out of the country, in and out of boxes. Depending on his mood and what's most convenient for little bro.]

[population_ctrl]

[He glances up. Meets that smile with one of his own, leaning back slightly and stretching out. Comfortably. This is the way forward, after all, and all reservations... well. He'll have them afterwards too, surely, and there will be time. To settle whatever needs to be settled.]

And the car?

[dealwith_them]

Invisible.

[No one understands why Marcel hangs out with Jean Louis Duroc. No one else sees the obvious connection and no one, obviously, sees the moments like this when they're kind of like kids again. Just playing the world like a toy. If they did, they'd get it. And he'd have to kill them for it. Too bad.]

Loaded onto a truck near the Belgian borders. I'm picking it up Monday.

[population_ctrl]

[He holds up a hand absentmindedly towards the light, checking his nails and frowning. Two split already. Fucking waste of money. Unlike his bro, who's certainly, obviously, worth the enormous wages he gets paid every month.]

My standing in the party is acceptable, too. The old man's definitely working for it, making sure everybody knows. That he trusts me, I've got his full support. [Chuckle.] Hilarious, isn't it?

[dealwith_them]

[A snort. Trust JL? Are you fucking kidding? Standing up, Marcel walks over to the counter and puts on some coffee. Just a pot. Or two. Once they get started, they usually don't stop - kind of like with the smokes. Which reminds him...]

He trusts you as long as you've got your dick in your fucking pants.

[Turning around, he leans back against the tabletop and lights a cigarette.]

[population_ctrl]

[He finishes his stew. Follows Marcel with his eyes, the sound of coffee brewing drowned out very quickly indeed by the click of the lighter. Getting up, mostly-empty bowl in hand, he walks to the counter and more or less drops the bowl into the sink. Turns on the water, entirely on automatics. God, he hates that old bastard. His death is going to be so satisfying. So right.]

None of his fucking business.

[Holding out a hand in Marcel's direction, he waits for the smokes to happen.]

[dealwith_them]

[Marcel laughs, once. Hands JL a smoke and fishes his lighter out of his pocket once more. They've got their routines and JL's too high and mighty to light his own fucking fags, isn't he? Raising an eyebrow, he blows a few smoke rings while JL gets started on his cigarette. They're big ones too.]

You're doing the tabloids a fucking favour. Mireille will be devastated and they'll love every fucking second of it.