táifēng --> typhoon
“The hell is a tweaker?” Hoo boy, he must be a long way out in the boonies from the sound of things. Though like he would wherever he was or whoever he was with..He got pissed off at her comment.
“Hell no, this things just a…Gift, from someone! Jokes on you though, cus thiiiis is fireproof! And it can turn invisibl—Wait..Did she include that feature..?” He ignored the woman now and began looking over the red cloak a bit for any kind of button or way to activate it—Including tugging on the bow. It wasn’t likely it had that though, because Kokonoe was the type to want him seen in the damn thing.
Oh, this was just fuckin’ hilarious.
Revy’s body shook even more with laughter, gruff voice letting out obnoxious cackles and howls between responses. Was he for real?
"Yeah! Right! And I saw Mother Teresa selling moonshine on the corner with the hookers the other night! AHAHA, this is fuckin’ great! I got it – you’re another one'a Rock’s charity cases, am I right? Tell me ya don’t have any maids, those bitches get on my nerves.”
“…Eh? Wait..” How in the hell did he get..Wherever here was? Not to mention..
He was still wearing that damn “Cloak” the cat-bitch gave him!
Looking like Red Riding Hood in a den of killers aside, he was burning up—But then again, he usually wasn’t cool since he had an arm that breathes fire..He shook his head quickly and looked around, clearly confused, he pushed the hood back and off his head. “Where am I? I feel kind of like I just woke up standing here or something…”
He took a step toward the woman, with one hand behind his back of course. Hopefully Kokonoe made this thing fireproof, if it came to that…
She made no move to get up, obviously more focused on why the hell he was interrupting her “precious” time than to wonder why he was being so cautious. If Revy were paying more immediate attention, she’d be pretty damn curious about what he had to hide behind that tiny back of his.
“Sounds like a tweaker to me. You’re in my fuckin’ space, that’s where. Do you even know what city you’re in? It ain’t wise to sell cookies door to door, kid,” she sneered, suddenly beginning to laugh mid-sentence; that coat of his was too fuckin’ priceless.
“Who dresses you, yer nanny?”
>> blackgrimoire
“Huh? What’s this look like to you, a fuckin’ motel?”
The hired gun glanced up from her ice cold Heineken, far from pleased to see some unknown – and strangely-dressed to boot – kid lingering in the hall. Then again, Black Lagoon’s newest headquarters were even shittier than the first; it was expensive, getting your base of operations blown to fuckin’ smithereens. For the time being, they were stuck in a shabby building with “free rent” – courtesy of Revy herself, and her handy dandy Cutlass.
A buck saved or gained was a mission successful in her book – no more, no less.
“Aren’t you burnin’ up in those clothes? Looks like you got off at the wrong bus stop, kid.”