Sloth (modern_acedia) wrote in nevermore_logs, @ 2012-10-19 20:01:00 |
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Current mood: | satisfied |
Entry tags: | patience, sloth |
Who: Sloth and Patience
What: Doing Greed a favour
When: Friday
Where: out and about in New York
Warning: Sloth being a Sinful dick with a baseball bat and a coffin
Sloth knew where Patience was. If there was something about those do-gooders, it was that they made no attempt to hide themselves. He watched as Patience sat and drank coffee with a human girl, as she took his hand. They both looked rather serious. Sloth would be doing the girl a favour by removing the grumpy asshole from her life. He didn't know Virtues had girlfriends anyway.
He had no real idea why Greed wanted Patience gone, and no real desire to know either. He'd just been given a challenge, and he was still riding the excitement of the previous weekend. He wanted to prove to Greed that he was on his side once and for all.
Preparations had been made. Sloth called in a favours and pushed a couple of people, and found a nice cosy spot on the edge of a cemetery had suddenly opened up, complete with coffin. The coffin honestly was a little leaky, lined with a tarp and nailed together out of an old wardrobe, but as Sloth had swapped the last of his weed for it (he always had top quality weed), it'd do.
Patience was embarrassingly easy to lure down an alley with a little bit of faking a call for help, and when he was safely out of sight of the street, a baseball bat to the back of the head laid him out cold. They might be Virtues, but they walked in the bone-bags of humans, and as such could be treated like one. A lesser creature would be in hospital for days with a blow like that. For a Virtue, it would keep him unconscious for long enough.
Sloth straightened his jacket and tossed the bat into a dumpster, and with a lot more effort than he'd like, he managed to lever Patience into a wheelchair. He wiped off some of the blood with a towel, which he also tossed, then pulled a beanie down to hide the blood-matted hair on the back of Patience's head. Then he tucked headphones into Patience's ears and put an old iPod in his pocket. Pushing an apparently sleeping young man in a wheelchair down the sidewalk garnered Sloth some sympathetic glances, and he smiled and whistled as he went.
When he reached the cemetery, Sloth dropped the act a little. He pushed the wheelchair faster, not bothering that it juddered over rough paving and gravel. The sooner he reached his little hole in the ground, the better. He glanced around, but there was nobody else around. He'd chosen the old end of the cemetery for a reason.
Sloth rifled in Patience's pockets, taking his wallet, keys and cellphone, pocketing them, then pulled out his own phone. He put his arm around Patience's neck and took a selfie of the two of him, Sloth grinning at the camera. Then he unceremoniously upended Patience into the homemade coffin, pushed him flat, took another photo, and started nailing the lid on. It took him half an hour to seal it up and then push the coffin into the grave. The grave itself was only four feet deep and a little uneven, but Sloth had dug it and really, why would he bother going the full six? Buried was buried. Pushing the dirt in was a lot easier than digging it out. The displaced dirt he spread around a bit to try and make it look a little less obvious, then he put the grass he'd pulled up back on top, taking delight in trampling it down. It was roughshod and lazy work, but what could you expect? Sloth took a final picture of the grave.
"See ya, wouldn't wanna be ya," Sloth said to Patience, blowing him a kiss. He dumped the wheelchair in a ditch, and sent all three pictures to Greed with the message, "lay sum flwrs 4 paula schultz".