Thread: Brand New Day: A Horrible RP (SevenxSome Drunkard)

Re Brand New Day A Horrible RP SevenxWineandine It had been nearly three months since Dr. Horrible had been accepted as a member of the Evil League of Evil and in that period of time he had single-handedly become responsible for the government enacting a new law regarding the transport and protection of Wonderflonium, considering the last four shipments of it had been plucked from their courier vans. Sure, once they had tried to trick him by sending out a decoy truck, but he'd got the case anyways - he was only surprised it had taken them so long to decide on armored trucks and armed security instead of mini-vans and mailmen. Of course, now he had a full stockpile of Wonderflonium and wouldn't need more any time soon, but at least it meant that when he did need more, it would be an actual challenge - particularly with the consideration that he could actually get shot doing it next time. There had been a few bank heists, too, done with the nervous but eager assistance of Moist, who he had ultimately ended up selecting as his henchman - it couldn't have been anyone else anyways. Moist had a toothbrush at Billy's place when most people never even noticed him Moist had practically reserved the spot. And anyways, he didn't want the League assigning some rookie hack henchman to him - some snot-nosed kid, fumbling with his beakers and making them all - fingerprinty. Of course, Moist did that - but he didn't really leave prints, just - runny trails. But for the most part, the robberies had gone off without a hitch all he had to do was wave around something metal and people assumed it would kill them - the truth was that Dr. Horrible was robbing banks with a wind turbine on his arm. No one had ever tried to stop him they were too scared, but if they had tried, rather than getting shot they would have just sort of - been blown back a few feet. Maybe. He hadn't really tested the Wind Ray very thoroughly. Absorbed in his thoughts again and now dealing with a disturbing mess of laundry detergent and torn kleenex on his hands, Billy hadn't even realized he was being approached - after all, why would anyone be approaching him? So when the handkerchief was thrust out in front of him, his immediate response was to throw his hands up in front of him to protect his head, a knee-jerk reaction that still hadn't gone away from his days of being pummelled into the ground by Captain Hammer. Even worse, the motion had been accompanied by an embarrassing, slightly strangled noise of surprised anxiety and it sounded vaguely like Gnargh! And when the rain of fists didn't come, he cracked open an eye and peered over his soapy hands a pair of kind, green eyes looked back at him, and Billy felt his stomach flip suddenly and violently as the apprehension of being hit was replaced by something much more frightening - social anxiety. Even worse than the beautiful green things staring at him, and the dark lashes that surrounded them was the shock of dark red hair, and it was so painfully, heartbreakingly familiar that Billy found himself slowly raising his head above his fingers. Years of education, endless hours of memorization and obsession, and a lifetime of knowledge all became useless as Billy found himself suddenly utterly incapable of articulating anything rather than speaking or even reaching out to accept the proferred handkerchief, all Billy was able to do was let out one small, miserable squeak. Penny. If it weren't for the distinct difference of gender, the man in front of him looked exactly like Penny. Right then, Billy could only sit there gaping at the other man, expression frozen into one of abject terror as his mind tried to sort through the details. Penny, Dr. Horrible told him, is dead. This is a coincidence. Of course, that was the reasonable explanation - but Billy couldn't help feeling that he was the only man who could hear the heartbeat under the floorboards. You look like an idiot. Do something. After a painfully long and awkward silence and Billy finally managed to move again - but he was running on automatic, reaching out for the handkerchief and gingerly removing it from Buck's hand as though fearing it would burst into flames. Uh, he said. Your mastery of the english language is truly astonishing. Jackass. Thanks. he mumbled out, suddenly avoiding Buck's eyes like a kicked dog might do.