born to rage {python}

[cass]

osgarus baeuvallet

He turned around the next corner, thoughts not on the ground before him, but rather in his head. It was a defining habit of his, to lose himself within moments of setting himself on a path. Daydreaming was a habit so deeply ingrained into his mind he spent most of the time doing it. He didn't mind, statistically speaking those that daydreamed were over a higher intelligence then those that did not. Considering the amount of time he spent daydreaming he had to be a man of a high level of intelligence. Or so he thought. And as per usual he did not think about his path, but rather lost himself to his own thoughts.

Appearances were the most misleading things. At first glance you’d overlook Osgarus Baeuvallet, you’d look right past him, perhaps even snicker at his smaller structure, because at a first glance he looked weak. He looked hardly fit to lead more then a children’s escapade into a sandpit. Even then you’d probably fear for his safety, with that expressions on his face, ninety percent of the time it was any wonder he could walk in a straight line. However, walking straight wasn’t the problem in a situation like that, it was his ability to remain focused, and there it was the end. He was a boy with an exceedingly honed in talent: getting lost. He was just that, at this moment, oh so very lost.

Another turn, into a busy street. He was sure Amity was somewhere up ahead... maybe.

The leader of district six’s biggest drug cartel was anything but stereotypical. He was a day-dreamer, a poet of sorts, a cook and a boy that often ended up blurting out the first thing on his mind whether that be an intriguing fact about the female reproductive system or a vulgar fact about how the body malfunctions after it reaches certain levels of pain to finding out why brown rice was a terrible supplement for thin grained rice. He was a book filled with knowledge and his optimistic attitude was often the target of sneers – although those degrading looks never survived long on his subordinates faces, before he wiped them off with a blade. Most people assumed that he was no one of note upon first greeting him, perhaps that was why he now stood in the middle of a street, staring at the last place he was sure he had seen Amity, why no one asked to help him out.

She had been right there. He was sure of it.

No one stopped to ask him what was wrong, because they didn’t know who he was. If this had of been his Headquarters someone would have stopped- no, who was he kidding half of the drug cartel didn’t have a clue who he was. He liked that mysterious air, but at the same time it did have it’s fucking downfalls. For example, right fucking now.

Some guy with more hair and dirt then a dog bumped into him and growled, like the dog he was, at Os, as though it had been his fault. Os smiled, waving a hand apologetically, before spinning away sharply to avoid another person who looked just as unpleasant. Ripred it sucked when no one knew that you could have them killed with the flick of a wrist. Ripred it sucked when you forgot that sometimes you couldn’t daydream in the middle of the street and instead had to actually pay attention because Amity wasn’t playing games and actually needed him to keep up.

He wasn’t looking forward to seeing her pissed off face. An annoyed Amity wasn’t something he liked to deal with, especially when she was annoyed at him. If he didn’t pick up his act by the end of today he wouldn’t be getting any sex from her, instead she’d give him the cold shoulder and let him know that it was his own fault. He didn’t like the thought of that. What he did like the thought of was Amity in his bed, with him pressed against her and a night of fun, waking up to see her by his side. He turned, on his heel, racing a hand quickly through his hair he looked at the land around him. People moved up and down and he narrowed his dark brown eyes, trying to spot her familiar figure. After a few moments he let out a defeated sigh, resigning himself to the fact that Amity was going to notice the lack of idle chit-chat or perhaps the fact that he hadn’t spurted out some random fact by now. And then she’d come and rescue him.

And then he’d deal with her anger. He cringed, inwardly, knowing he had royally fucked up. Today was supposed to be a simple day, check out a lab Cross had done away with, get an inventory, check some stuff and head back. Os had been supposed to lead this one, but he had handed the reigns over to Amity after realizing he wasn’t sure at all on what to actually do. He was really and truly actually very smart. No, seriously, he was. He just never acted like it. Scampering backwards he moved to the edge of the crowd, eyes roaming and hoping to spot Amity first and slink back into position before she could even notice he had been gone, the chances of that were slim, but a man could hope.

But he doubted it. She always ended up rescuing him.

[Python]

Amity Rainecourt

Today there was an overcast sky to blur the colors of their crimes. If it rained, Amity’s overcoat would absorb most of the damage. If it didn’t, she would consider herself fortunate to have escaped a nuisance. As second in command of a drug cartel – the lieutenant, so to speak – she possessed a great deal of power and responsibility, and although she could rule as a queen with an iron fist behind closed doors, there were those inevitable moments where she would have to leave her throne in favor of mandatory business. The second lieutenant Ingran – better known as “Crossbones” or “Cross” for his past escapades with noxious gases – was off site for a task that required immediate attention. This left his previously-assigned tasks unfinished. They had a tight schedule and a responsibility to remain consistent, so now his burdens were hers to deal with.

It was a shame, to put it lightly. She had been anticipating a day of relaxation. Perhaps a grunt or two would visit her with a “problem” regarding one of the worker ants. Simple enough; she could stomp an ant from miles away with one command. Or perhaps one of the hit men would return to confirm the execution of their latest target. She had delivered that name days ago, but since he wasn’t high priority they could take their time with it. She didn’t know which of Gatrix’s underlings had been assigned to the task, but as long as they finished by the end of the week and brought her the news, she didn’t care.

Instead of lounging at headquarters with a mug of hot chocolate, she was weaving through the backstreets of Six with Osgarus at her tail. His presence was the peculiar detail about today. The Owl – the drug lord himself – was rarely known for his appearances on assignments. Most of the cartel didn’t even know what he looked like, and the rest wouldn’t guess that it was him if they ever saw him. He could rule without ever stepping foot out of headquarters, like a king. Something as petty as a lab visit to check progress and inventory shouldn’t even be considered by a man with such power, but Osgarus was an oddball. If anything, he reminded her of the schoolboys she used to share a table with, the ones who always did their homework and laughed at their own lame jokes. It was annoying coming from them, but kind of endearing coming from him.

She didn’t know why he had volunteered to go with her, but who was she to say no to the boss? It wasn’t a dangerous mission. It was just a laboratory, where the manufacturers cooked up their poison to be packaged and sold to the druggies who craved it. It didn’t matter whether their customers were sick or homeless, just as long as they had the money to pay for the product.

She didn’t mind the company either. Owl was unlike anyone she had ever met before. He was ruthless at heart, but that was the strange part – he actually had a heart. He was capable of tenderness and passion, she had witnessed it firsthand. They were cooperative business partners with a little “agreement” that having casual, stress-relieving sex was allowed and encouraged. Friends with benefits, some people would call it. Yet Owl was the type of guy who stayed in bed with her and woke up the next morning to cook breakfast and chat. Upon first encountering him, nobody would expect him to be the leader of a drug cartel. He was too absent-minded and quirky. His daily “factoids” turned heads and prompted strange looks.

If they only knew how deadly he could be.

That was the fun part, knowing both his good side and bad side. It gave her an advantage, it gave her a job, and it had earned her his trust. Why else would he allow her to lead him instead of the other way around? She knew the locations better than anyone, he knew that. He could admit that he might lose his way without her, and she liked that power. She liked their relationship.

Problem was, he really did get lost too often. As soon as the factory was within sight, she turned around to address their arrival only to find him missing. Any average person would panic and immediately think ambush, but Amity knew better. Nobody would ambush Owl, nobody would even think of him as a criminal just by the way he stared into space. Nobody would mug Owl, either. They wouldn’t survive. If he was off killing attackers, she would’ve heard it by now. He had just taken a wrong turn. He was daydreaming again.

She paused and waited impatiently for his face to pop up. The passerbys moved against her in traffic, occasionally bumping her and shooting her dirty looks.

When he suddenly appeared out from behind the corner of a building, she marched up to him and grabbed his hand. ”Your head is in the clouds,” she said sternly. ”Now we’re late. Come on.”

She led him away.

[cass]

osgarus baeuvallet

As soon as he laid eyes on her he cringed, waiting for the lashing, but Amity simply gave him a look, before grabbing his hand and pulling him forwards. Grinning like an idiot he followed, allowing himself to be dragged along by her. As she walked ahead he stared at her, taking in her beauty, loving the way that her shoulders set. She was strong, she was powerful and she knew it, he knew it and and anyone that looked at her knew it. It wasn't the kind of strength that you noticed after a time of staring, but rather the kind you spotted immediately. It was like an air had wrapped itself around her and in that bubble she stood, all pride and courage and beauty. She was beautiful, in the way that said she'd rip your heart out and smile the whole way through it.

He was always taken by her, by everything she did, and half the time he spent day-dreaming about her he could spend on smarter, wiser decisions. But he couldn't stop, his thoughts were consumed by everything she was, by the fact that she listened in those times no one else would. He'd never say he was in love with her, he wasn't a man that gained such silly attachments he was but he'd never admit that of course. No, he'd never say he loved her because some part of him knew and understood that she was not a woman that would love him back. And if, by some miracle, she ever did he knew that he'd never have the courage to tell her. He wasn't that kind of man. But for the moment he'd enjoy himself, enjoy the fact that he got her, enjoy the fact hat he had this entire day with her.

He ran his thumb over the top of her hand, stepping faster to stand by her side. "It's alright, who's going to tell us off if we're late getting back?"

[Python]

Amity Rainecourt

The syringe manufacturers were two minutes away. Their factory spanned the length of ten houses; small compared to most, but their products were simple devices easily made. Their basement was even smaller. For their purposes it could be. Storerooms were meant to hide needles and tubes for the sake of utilizing them later in the machines, but the basement was for something completely different. Something Amity and Owl were about to inspect.

They were almost to the backdoor. Guards were there to allow them access. Meanwhile, Owl was being child-like in his excuses. She didn't like to run late, and that was that. "I have a strict schedule. I'd like to stick with it." Her expression was stern as she spoke, every line in her face stretched tight from her frowns. The guards opened the door for them and she slipped inside, releasing Owl's hand. She didn't mean to chastise him like a child. His authority was far too powerful for that.

She could get away with a lot of things, though, only because their partnership was solid and their bridge of trust sturdy. "We can make up for lost time. You know where we're going, right?"

[cass]

osgarus baeuvallet

Of course she'd be hell bent on sticking to some sort of schedule. Of course she'd be too busy to take a breather and realise there was more to life then just work and work. She was that type of girl, she was the one that kept things moving, she was the one that made things happen. Owl was the leader, but he didn't follow any script, he didn't have people make demands of him. It was for those reasons why he allowed himself to be lead, because he had yet to learn how to do the things she did. In theory he was capable enough, but that didn't make him as competent.

Unlike her, though, he lived, he lived every single day with joy and happiness. He did anything that pleased him, he was spontaneous, stupid, living on a word and a thought alone. And so when Amity asked if he knew where they were going he gave her a sheepish grin, before giving her a lazy wink. "Not a single one." He responded, laughing gently.

[Python]

Amity Rainecourt

She should've been annoyed, and she should've regarded him with disapproval for his own lack of knowledge. She didn't. Instead, she shook her head and tried to suppress a smile. It was actually amusing how the drug lord - the true leader of their successful cartel - had no idea where he was going, or what was in store for them. Had he even been inside one of their labs before? If not, he was in for an unpleasant surprise. She honestly despised visiting them. That was why she often forced Ingran to go in her stead.

"Alright, follow me," she said, slipping around a corner. A corridor stretched before them, which took a turn and melded into two more corridors. It wasn't quite a maze as much as it was a pattern and a hassle. By the time she reached the basement door and knocked against the steel, she was bored. She was ready to get this over with.

"We're going to be given gas masks, just so you're aware."

[cass]

osgarus baeuvallet

He'd gotten her. He loved it when he did that to her, when she'd look as though she was going to scowl, growl at him or scold him like a child. And then she'd shake her head, or her eyes would soften or the sharp line across her mouth would lessen and she'd turn away and he'd know, he'd know she was hiding her smile. He felt a small level of pride when he reached that point, and he was starting to learn the kinds of things he could say to push her there, and the kind of things that would get him a whack on his arm. He was stupidly conscious of everything she made him feel, of the way his heart flattered when he snagged one of her smiles, of the way she looked at him -- no looked right at him when he told her facts. She was the only person who did that. Everyone else would sigh, and look away, or they'd nod, his words falling on deaf ears, but she listened.

From the start that was when he'd liked her. From the start that was when he had known he had wanted her. He followed her, as he always did, he turned around the corridors staying a step behind her, watching her hair, and her body, a small smirk sliding onto his lips. He followed her down the corridors until she stopped. It was strange how he'd so eagerly follower her, when he was the leader, he trusted her every decision. He trusted her completely. No, it wasn't entirely following her, no, he might be a step behind but she always turned around and pulled him up beside her, if not pushing him ahead. Os wanted to be her equal, he wanted to stay by her side on equal footing, he didn't want to totter forwards or backwards, ahead of her or behind, he wanted to be by her side. But he didn't love her of course, right? He didn't know what love was.

"Gas masks? But how will I see your beautiful face if it's covered up?" He pouted., but really he was thrilled with the idea, it seemed so much more like an adventure when you were putting on gear, and walking into danger. "What's going to be in there? Dragons? Dinosaurs? Maybe a naked man with two heads? Or a woman!" He stepped up beside her, grabbing the handle, he turned to face her, raising an eyebrow, as if to ask, may I?