#hey its 2am and i’m broody

[fmdxlaurent]

hello famed fam! so this took awhile, mostly because I wanted to make sure that I had Laurent’s profile and background page set up :] it’s been a while since I’ve rp, so I’m a little rusty please bare with me. Although I’m super excited to Laurent going~ his personality is not too far odd from bts jungkook- except perhaps a little extreme (in a broody sort of way) with suga’s underground tales. A few plot ideas and miscellaneous starters for connection purpuses :>

profile | background 

SCENE

[male] Both being utterly intoxicated and is waiting in line for the bathroom stalls, someone cuts in front of you; although you two don’t know each other, all you needed to do was nod at Laurent. Next thing you know, you’re both get into a brawl with the guy and his friends, a second later you’re both thrown out of the club.  optional: you can be the guy who cuts the line

[female] You were getting bothered by someone on the dancefloor, quickly grabbing a hold of Laurent, who happens to be dancing next to you, you mouth ‘help me’ and proceeded to act like you and him are together. Which of course, he’s more than happy to play along with.

[any] You had a little too much to drink, and drawn to Laurent for some reason, unable to help yourself, you literally puke on him.

[any] You’re all in a club and suppose to be dancing, drinking and having fun, but you look like you’re about to cry. Having a soft spot for you, Laurent pulls you aside and lends you a sympathetic ear.

BACKSTAGE

[any] Wardrobe malfunctions are nothing new for idols, in fact, it happens far too often that it’s almost expected. So when its finally your turn, Laurent just happens to be around to save the day. 

[any] It wasn’t meant to be funny and later on they are reprimanded for it. But remember that time when Laurent and you were talking smack on live area and it got picked up on screen time. It becomes somewhat of a joke and everyone laughs, but we all know you got in trouble afterwards. 

[female] Everyone in the entertainment business gets shipped with one another. Whether it was because you were in a series, variety or film together, perhaps were dance partners for one of the idol collab stages, fans seems to ship you both the most. 

[male] Rumour has it both of you have it out for each other. Everyone from the fans to people in the industry think that both of you hate each other or simply do not get along. But in reality, you both are actually quite close friends and often bounce off each other’s differences.

MISC.

“I wouldn’t have offered you a blunt if I’d known you were a manager.”

“This is a library for fuck sake, shut u– Holy shit is that a spider!”

“This isn’t some weird pick up line but it’s raining like hell, do you need a ride?”

“We could do that… or we could fuck.”

“Hey! Tall guy! Hoist me up your shoulder, I can’t see the fucking band!”

“I’m going to need you to put something on before you say anything else.”

“'Am about 75% sure this wont explode.”

“The skirt is short on purpose.”

“Why exactly do you need chloroform at 2am?”

“I’m not taking no for an answer, so strip.”

“You’re hopeless. Get up.”

“I swear, I didn’t do i– Wait, no. Yeah, I did that.”

[out-of-this-dimension]

24 + Caiman!

Oh boy this one was fun.  I’m sorry for all of the sad oneshots ajdsflkjskdf

---

7 ALW; SARGASSO SPACE STATION, METEO BELT 

2am was heralded by the chiming of the clock striking the hour.  Caiman looked up at the digital clock for a moment, his hand enveloped a white rag that was wiping out residual water droplets from a glass that had gone through the wash.  He liked keeping his hands busy.  He liked what he did.  It was rowdy, but in a good way.  It was loud, but the voices were almost always merry.  Sure, the ruffians had their occasional bar brawls, but it was nothing Panther, Wolf, and Leon couldn’t break up… or finish, if they felt so inclined.  

“Last call!” hollered the reptile over the sound of chatter.  

There were a few complaints, of course.  There were complaints every night.  But with their meager staff, it was hard to keep the bar running all night long.  Wolf only had commanded extended hours for special occasions until they had enough barkeeps to maintain the steady flow of orders.  But no one came to Sargasso to make drinks.  They came here to find a place away from the Cornerians-- a place that accepted their unconventional lifestyles… a place that looked the other way when it came to their past.  There were bandits here, sure.  And pirates.  And murderers.  But there were refugees.  People that couldn’t go back.  People that had no place in Corneria’s high society…

Caiman knew.  He was one of them.  A Venomian that had lived his life in the skeletal remains of what the Cornerians had left behind.  His family had moved into a ruined Cornerian colony when he had been a child.  When he had been seven years old, his father had taught him how to shoot a gun.  At ten, he had killed his first person-- a raider that had come to pillage some of their food supplies.  Caiman had fired once.  Just once.  And then the raider had been no more.  He told himself it had been just like target practice.  That… made it feel less like claiming a life, something he later came to realize that he did not like doing.

It was this disdain for killing that had led Caiman to become Sargasso’s primary barkeep.  After the Venomians had dispersed with Andross’s defeat, he had found Wolf years later and had hung up his blaster.  There was no need to fight for survival anymore.  He was an essential part of the Sargasso culture.  He let the alcohol flow and they repaid him twice over in whatever he wanted.

“Do ya really gotta close down?” a nearby armadillo whined.  He was partially leaned over the bar, a glass of whiskey wrapped in his claws.

“ ‘Fraid so.  Lord O’Donnell’s orders,” Caiman replied with a toothy grin. “Unless ya wanna help with cleaning up all the dishes and moppin’.  I already released the rest of my staff.  They’re opening tomorrow.”

“Fuck that,” the armadillo sputtered and went back to leaning over the bar with a broody expression.

Last call came and went.  It was not for another hour that the bar started to see its numbers thin.  Caiman busied himself with his closing duties.  He cleaned up the glasses and began to wipe down the counter.  Crumbs and droplets were smeared away.  He disinfected the lovely woodwork with a small spray bottle and kept up his relaxed yet productive pace.  All the way up until the bar was empty save for the last few patrons.

“Hey there,” came an unfamiliar voice and the Venomian glanced up to see its origin.

Caiman had never met the guy before.  He was a ring-tailed lemur, the black fur of his chin pointed in a small goatee.  His large yellow eyes glittered with a sort of mischievousness that Caiman instinctively did not like.  But he was a kind soul-- as kind as anyone within the rugged halls of Sargasso could be.  He didn’t want to turn anyone away, even if it was beyond closing hours.

“What can I do ya for?” Caiman asked the lemur.

“Name’s Rodney.  Rodney Donovan,” the lemur said, helping himself to the nearest bar stool.  The way he moved was energetic and something about his manner of speech reminded Caiman of a merchant.  “I’m new here.”

“Welcome,” Caiman replied.  He gave a small smile.  The poor guy was new and probably hadn’t gotten the memo that the bar was closing down.  Nervous, he scrubbed the countertop harder.  He tried to figure out how to politely inform him but during his frantic contemplation, he lost his chance.  

“I’m not really a ruffian,” Rodney said and Caiman’s scaley brow furrowed at this.  What did that even mean? The lemur’s mouth pulled up into a smirk. “I’m a historian.”

“A historian?” Caiman asked, looking up from where he was cleaning.  That was… odd to say the least. Historians didn’t typically come to Sargasso.  People that weren’t rough around the edges usually didn’t come to Sargasso. “Weird place for someone like you to be.”

“I guess you could say that,” the lemur said.  He swung his feet back and forth in a manner Caiman thought was rather childish. “You see, I’m working on my magnum opus.  It’s a film.  A film about the Lylat Wars.”

Caiman felt the first flicker of uncertainty in his chest.  Sure, this lemur was odd… but now it was bordering something beyond just odd.  The lizard studied his cunning golden eyes for a moment. 

“Really?” Caiman asked.  “Sounds…” Awful. It sounded awful.  “... interesting.”

“I’m hoping to interview some of the people that were on the front lines.  From both sides.  You see, we both know the Cornerians like to tout that the Venomians were evil and all of that.  But I want the truth.  I want the nitty gritty details,” Rodney said with a smile that Caiman was certain was supposed to be charming but all he saw was a knowing sneer.  

The lizard turned away to put away the spray bottle, feeling his heart pounding against his chest.  His thoughts were abuzz with memories he would have rather forgotten.  He had been part of the Venomian defense in the waning hours of the war.  Andross had wanted them to guard the entrance to his main headquarters.  They had been personally assigned after their flight records had been assessed.  Caiman felt a lump in his throat.  No matter what they had thought, no matter all of their feats, it had not been enough to stop the inevitable.  It had not been enough to stop their fears from becoming reality.

“Who… do you work for?” Caiman asked quietly.  He rose up, still turning his back to Rodney.  He looked at the glasses he had already polished, picking one up to polish it all over again-- just to give his shaking hands something to do.

“The Macbethian Institute of History,” the lemur replied. “We’re invested in preserving the actual facts about history-- not the nonsense the Cornerians propagate.  You’ll help, won’t you?  Mr. Caiman Tegu?”

“I…” Caiman fumbled. 

Area 6 defense.  Corneria had gotten intel that Area 6 covered the direct route to Andross’s lair.  When the squadron that covered that airspace had drank together that night before, they had all talked about how they were willing to die for the cause.  They were willing to die for a better future, one where they could live without fear and without being under the boot of someone who didn’t care about their wellbeing.  They had toasted Andross’s name.  They had cheered and danced together.  And when the morning came?  They had strapped their gear on.  They had manned their ships.  And they had fought tooth and nail against the onslaught led by Fox McCloud.

Caiman still heard their screams echoing within his mind.  Screams of his superiors.  Of his fellow squadmates.  He still remembered all of their names.  He remembered the eardrum-shattering noise his ship had made when it had been blasted to pieces.  He hit the escape pod and prayed to every god in the universe that it worked.  It did.  It did somehow… even though so many others didn’t.  

“I want to do a segment on the massacre at Area 6,” Rodney continued as though nothing was wrong.  As if talking about all of those lives lost was no big deal.  “You’d do an interview, of course.  Right?  I mean, you may have lost the war, but this way, you can at least strike back in another way.”

The glass fell from his hand.  The lizard gave a small gasp as he looked at the glistening shards gathered at his feet below.  Some rested on the toe of his shoe.  Caiman’s dark eyes traveled to his hand and he touched the top of his snout for a moment.  Each breath came with difficulty.  He felt like he was in that escape pod all over again.  Its walls had been unbearably close.  And with time?  They had just felt like they were closing in on him.  Crushing his shoulders as his pod burned through the atmosphere.  

“Um… hello?” Rodney asked.  “Are you listening?”

“Get out.”

The words tore from his mouth, filled with a seething rage that Caiman had thought he had put behind him.  The lizard looked back over his shoulder at the lemur.  Tears burned in his eyes. 

“Excuse me?” Rodney asked, taken aback.

“Get out.  We’re closed,” Caiman said angrily.  He grabbed the nearest glass from the shelf and held it up as if to chuck it at the lemur.  No matter how hard he fought back the tears, they came. 

“What?  Don’t you want to help out?  Isn’t… isn’t this important to you?” Rodney asked, seeming to be positively flabbergasted.

“No.  I don’t care about that anymore!” Caiman yelled.  He threw the glass and it missed Rodney by a mile, but the sound of it shattering seemed to spook the lemur.

“W-was it something I said?” Rodney squeaked.

The door slid open behind him and Panther Caroso’s muscled frame took up the bulk of the doorway.  Sharp golden eyes took in the scene at once and the feline pounced upon the lemur without a shred of mercy.  His massive paw slammed the historian into the nearest wall, his fingers wrapped around the squirming Rodney’s neck.  

“W-wait!” Rodney yelped. “I… I…!”

“What’s going on here?” Panther asked, looking directly at Caiman.  His tail twitched back and forth.

“He… he needs to go,” Caiman said to Panther. “Please… please make him go.”

Panther looked back at Rodney, his fangs bared in a scowl.  He dragged the kicking and screaming lemur out of the door, letting it slam shut behind him.  The ensuing silence felt heavy-- too heavy for the lizard to bear.  He sank to the ground behind the bar, huddled up.  Glass still sat all around him but he could not find it in himself to care.  

The door slid back open and after a few hurried footsteps, Panther was soon next to the weeping lizard, kneeling down next to him.  The feline put a single hand on the lizard’s shoulder to try to comfort him.  

“He’s gone,” Panther reassured him.

“Did you… kill…?” Caiman whispered.

“I put him in an escape pod and shot him towards Fichina,” Panther replied. 

“Fichina… that’s too far away for…” Caiman sniffled.

“I know,” Panther smiled savagely.  “The Cornerians can pick him up and deal with his shit.  Are you all right?”

“Y-yeah…” Caiman said quietly.  He picked himself up and Panther’s ears went back.  The lizard began towards the broom closet, opening it up and grabbing the broom within.  He had made a mess after all, and it would not have been nice to leave it for the opening crew.

“No.  I will clean it up.  You should return to your quarters and get some rest,” Panther replied, shaking his head.  

“A-are you sure?” Caiman said in surprise.

Panther took the broom from the lizard’s hands and nodded.   “Go.  And rest.  I will tell Wolf to make sure that lemur stays blacklisted.”

“T-thank you,” Caiman replied gratefully.  

He left the bar quietly as Panther began to sweep the glass up.  As he walked the dull gray metal corridors of Sargasso, he thought to himself about that future Andross had promised them.  Perhaps they had never gotten that golden future, but the sanctuary Star Wolf had created was not bad.  There were unsaid rules here.  Rules to look out for each other in a world that was sometimes so cruel that it didn’t make any sense.  Rules that did not make sense to anyone beyond their fold.

Caiman hugged himself as he rode the elevator to his apartment, taking in a few deep breaths.  That incident had brought back bad memories… but he knew that he would be okay.  He had been okay before and he would be okay again.