in which the midwife hates everything, vol. 1

[themidwife]

Characters: Oichi (bedtime) and The Midwife (themidwife)
Format: Action
This log is: closed
Location: Fortitude, Pale
Summary: After player declaration, the Midwife decides in a fit of pique to storm back to his dorms before classes. There he finds a friend - and perhaps something more. And by that I mean "a weapon."
Warnings: Absurd levels of profanity. Probably nothing else.

[ Everything is fucked.

Nothing could have prepared him for this. Not a single event in the miserable, loathsome series of events he has jokingly dubbed a "life" could have indicated what was to come. Even the great and noble office of MIDWIFE pales before what he's been chosen for.

At least, that's a possibility. Like fuck if he knows what a "Player" does - only that it means he doesn't get to be a "Weapon," which pisses him off beyond words. Fine - fine. He will become the ultimate weapon, then. He will hone himself into the finest steel. He will tear apart those who would stand in his way. He will rip the aspirations and dreams of the pathetic aliens that would dare to dream for greater things. Just as soon as he figures out what he's supposed to do.

He stomps back into the shitty excuse for a respiteblock (okay, even he can't lie about that - it's actually pretty damn good, better than anything he's had for sweeps but it's not home goddammit), searching the halls for signs of life. The moment he sees something moving, he moves in for the kill. ]

You. I have no idea who the fuck you even are, but guess what? I don't fucking care! Tell me, human, what the fuck is a "Player" and what do they do?

Comments

[bedtime]

[ She has no idea what the hell grubsauce is but she smiles and nods along anyways. She looks at the new mark on her hand. ]

You do both... Ichi did, so... being a player is temporary, like snowfall in spring...

[themidwife]

[ Player status is temporary, much like the weather. The Midwife files that information away in the back of his brain, preparing himself for later. After a few moments, the scowl is back on his face, and he raises a finger to tell Oichi:

Alright, Ichi. I'm off to go schoolfeed some dumbfucks. Since it's pretty goddamn likely that you're a teacher too, go forth - pour information into their blooming little thinkpans, and hope to god some actually sticks in there.

I will meet with you later for strategizing. At lunch.

[ AND WITH THAT HE TURNS AROUND AND STARTS STOMPING OFF. ]

[bedtime]

[ Oichi watches him go, and then turns around to play on the bed. ]