Board Thread:Role Plays/@comment-5999656-20190205035159/@comment-25582638-20190205090540

At the far corner of the facility, where both luxurious and cheap vehicles would roll in to drop off their passengers, a rugged-looking jeep horns impatiently at a slick, black sedan car at the front.

"Motherfuckers." The middle-aged man with half-shaved head exhales a cloud of white smoke from his mouth. His gloved fingers taps restlessly on the wheels, slanted eyes narrowing at the sports car in disgust.

"Chill man, the car ain't done anythin'." says a younger man with uncombed dark blue hair beside him. He is stuck with this older man who had been fuming unreasonably for hours before the auction. And it seems he had enough of it.

"Chill? With these assholes around?" The man turns his head to his companions, glaring. The assholes ard actually well-dressed, shady folks with their well-dressed dogs and cats. And whoever is in the car is no exception.

"I'm just sayi-"

"You know what? Why don't you get your ass out there and tell them to get their shits moving, eh? We're sitting ducks here."

The young man looks at him, bewildered. "Sitting ducks? We just got here for fucks sake. I don't even know these guys!"

"Donnie. Move. Your. Ass."

Groaning, the young man called Donnie grumbles as he exits the jeep, dropping on the cold, concrete floor. Hands inside his jacket's pockets, Donnie nervously approaches the unmoving sports car and beelines to the driver's window. Dark and thick, the window is impossible to peer through. Just as he's about to knock on the window, the glass suddenly rolls down, revealing a snake mask of sick green and red.

-

''"Hm?"' A Scroll snaps close and then goes to the pocket of his white suit. Through the side mirror, Wynston notices a nervous-looking young man approaching his car, cocking his head in curiosity. Not that he mind the sudden distraction. He has already contacted his client.

Smoothing his red messy wig, the king cobra faunus grabs his white fedora from the compartment and put it on his head. With multiple soft clicks, the hat let out a hiss, and green and red hexagon segments crawled out under the fedora. They pour over his face like liquid, each segments locking in place one by one until the odd snake mask comes into existence.

Compact, folding technology is widespread, and being of Atlesian origin where technology is bleeding edge proved to be a big advantage, like this kind of convenience. He's hoping to find more high-tech gadgets here after the closure of the border of Atlas.

"Yes?" The modified voice comes out deeper than his own.

“H-Hey man.” Donnie starts, unnerved by the mask, expecting to see a human face. “See, we've been waiting in the line and we really need to move so…”

“Oh, I see. My apologies. I had to take a call.” Wynston smiles behind the mask as he looks ahead. That's when he notices that the young man is looking at something behind him.

… Oh

“Anything else?” Wynston steps on the clutch as he shifts gear.

Donnie tilts his head more to the side to see what's on the back seat. It's long and black, somewhat bulky and looks like it will rip at any minute. “Is that a body bag?”

“... Yes.”

"Okay… Guns? We trade guns.” People that Donnie knows of tends to hide illegally acquired boomsticks in big bags like this.

Slowly, Wynston shakes his head. "It's a body bag... for bodies."

At that, the young man practically freezes, mouth slightly agape. Gulping, he asks Wynston. "S-So there's a dead body there?"

"Hmm bodies, actually. Maximizing the space is quite economical." Says the masked man as he looked coolly at Donnie whose face has gone pale. "Anything else?"

Shaken, Donnie balls his hands into fists inside his pockets. He steps back a little, prepared to get away from the eerily calm man as soon as possible. “Uh, no. None at all… Sorry man. Uh, I-I'm gonna go back now. My boss might be looking for me.”

Wynston just nods his head, slightly amused by the young man's reaction. “See you around then.”

“Yeah…”

And then, the sedan drives off to the parking space, and Donnie returns to the jeep, not registering the curses of the old man as he remembers vividly the faint smears of blood at the side of the fedora.