( closed ) and running running and running running

[competing]

CHARACTERS: lance & friends (''''''''''''friends''''''''''''')
DATE: ~time is but a human construct and we in alien town now boy~
WARNINGS: buffoonery
SUMMARY: bounties, booties, and bandits — oh my!

[ insert some soulful jazzy riffs ]

( ooc; a bunch of closed starters (mostly bounties) set throughout their stay here at perditions rest. a lot of these were pre-planned, but if you'd like to do something with lance, don't hesitate to PM me at this journal or PP me at emotes! )

Comments

[moneyman]

[ how in the hell did he let himself get talked into this?

was it alcohol? no, there's no way Lance was old enough to drink (what's the drinking age on this planet, anyway?). can't have been blackmail, because they're both Good People and they haven't known each other long enough to have dirt on the other. was it just plain old poor decision making? maybe.

—but then Lance says it. "Easiest money we'll ever make!" ah, yes. money. that's what it was. did they really want more cash that badly? apparently so. god help both of them—this is going to be a disaster. ]

I think I might be too full of regret to smile, honestly.

[competing]

[ look man... when you wind up giving almost all your cash to some girl on a train, life can get kinda Tough, alright. and there's no better way to start a good broship than by providing solidarity!

or something. ]

I mean — fine, if you want. But can you at least try and make that sexy regret? We're on a mission, here!

[moneyman]

[ someone should probably teach Lance how to better manage his money. yeah, someone... maybe once this farce is all over. ]

Look, it's—I'm sorry, man, there's just nothing sexy about regret, okay? [ he turns and looks around, obviously nervous. god, please let no one see this... ] Ugh, okay, how long do we have to do this for, again?

[competing]

What? Sure there is! Haven't you ever heard of Batman? [ or his universe's equivalent of batman... ] World's broodiest superhero, and yet chicks are still all over him!

But, uh, good question.

[ he glances towards amos, who's sitting on a rocking chair on his porch looking the two young men over, and... he doesn't look too terribly impressed, tbh.

lance grimaces a little, and reaches over to tug on vaughnn's shirt. ]

I don't know, but probably way longer if we don't up our stock a little. C'mon — take your shirt off.

[moneyman]

[ he makes a long, whiny sound of protest (or something; it's pretty much unintelligible)—Batman? they're so screwed. he lightly swats away Lance's hand, right before he catches a glimpse of Amos. shit. this isn't working.

he's going to have to take off his shirt.

yeah, he's just going to start tentatively unbuttoning it, muttering what sounds like "damn it" under his breath. the things he does for money... ]

[competing]

Don't wimp out on me now, man, [ lance says sharply under his breath. ] Just think of the money!

[ or, more likely, the fact that they both desperately need it.

but never fear! lance isn't about to leave a homie in lurch... without preamble, he peels off the black skintight upper portion of his space suit, tossing that down to the side. the cool air immediately bites at his skin, and what might have been a fairly impressive show in lean, youthful muscles is very suddenly negated by how quickly lance yelps and hugs himself. ]

Holy cow when did it get so cold?!

[moneyman]

Okay, okay...

[ yeah, think of the money... he can do that. it's kind of his job. used to be his job, anyway. now his job is to save timelines, and right now his job is to... uh, look attractive? after one more moment of hesitation, he finally shrugs off his shirt. what the hell is he supposed to do with it now? he awkwardly ties it around his waist. whatever.

oh, also, he's in absurdly good shape. "ripped" would not be an exaggeration. so there's that. ]

It is kinda cold, isn't it?

i can't believe you're making me make this so gay

[competing]

[ yeah okay well you can't just

not

say something about this

okay???? ]

—What the heck?! Since when were you ripped?!

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[moneyman]

[ this shit again... he wouldn't call himself ripped (even though he is clearly ripped), but there's really no point in trying to argue that. he shrugs, crossing his arms in front of him. why are you looking, bro?? ]

Since... I don't know, awhile ago? Don't worry about it.

[ is it really that weird? (yes. yes, it is.) ]

[competing]

[ lance is definitely not worrying about it. that would imply he cares a lot more than he definitely does NOT. ]

You could've mentioned something about being a bodybuilder or whatever before, dude... We would've gotten way more money right off the bat!

[moneyman]

Oh, my god. I'm not a bodybuilder. This isn't even—I mean, those people are like—huge...

[ yeah, he'll just keep going. but it's not angry ranting as much as it is flustered ranting. flaunting is clearly not a thing that he does. like, ever. ]

[competing]

[ dude if you ain't gonna flaunt then what is it all even for ]

Are you seriously being modest right now? If I had those abs, I'd be shirtless all the time!

[moneyman]

[ for... uh, self-esteem, or something. in the sense that it makes him feel better about himself, but he's too self-conscious to show it off. it's complicated and stupid, man, don't ask. ]

Yeah, and you'd also be cold all the time. It's not very practical. Or, uh... appropriate.

[ and yet he can absolutely see Lance wandering around shirtless for no reason. good lord. ]