http://quark-assassin.livejournal.com/ (
quark-assassin.livejournal.com) wrote in
trans_92010-04-12 10:39 am
Entry tags:
Of Spontaneous Musicals and Puking Rainbows [open]
There was something very wrong with this picture. No, the swagger in his step was usual, the messiness of his hair was a little more defined but otherwise unrecognizable from the norm, the fact that he was wearing only one sock might’ve been rather odd—but that smile on his face was definitely new, splitting not just with arrogance and pride, but with genuine happiness that was quite uncharacteristic of Dustin Silver.
His mindset as he strolled into the Observation Deck was also rather new and frightening. He’d come here because he was expecting to meet Lash, but that was a little more than an hour ago, she’d probably lost patience forty-five minutes previous—she had his gun and could’ve made a powerful ally, but did Dustin care? Not in the slightest! He’d just given Daja several packages of rare metal plates (his own creation), part of his quickly dwindling personal stores for production of the Dart, but why worry? The Bleed spiraled past the windows, Stacy’s flesh pulsed under his bare feet, constant reminders in the faces of other sad, angry, mournful crewmates continuously reminding him of why he was here, what he must eventually accomplish, all those that he lost—and he could’ve cared less!
It was a beautiful day even if it was just like all the others, there was tasteless sustenance waiting in the Mess Hall and booze fermenting in the City, and Dustin was in one of the best moods he’d ever experienced since he was fourteen. He was humming to himself, a jovial, improvised tune, almost bouncing into the center of the Obs Deck, as if the stolen greatcoat scraping the floor and resting heavily on his shoulders weighed naught an ounce.
Things were looking up.
[[Bendytimed to right after the above post.]]
His mindset as he strolled into the Observation Deck was also rather new and frightening. He’d come here because he was expecting to meet Lash, but that was a little more than an hour ago, she’d probably lost patience forty-five minutes previous—she had his gun and could’ve made a powerful ally, but did Dustin care? Not in the slightest! He’d just given Daja several packages of rare metal plates (his own creation), part of his quickly dwindling personal stores for production of the Dart, but why worry? The Bleed spiraled past the windows, Stacy’s flesh pulsed under his bare feet, constant reminders in the faces of other sad, angry, mournful crewmates continuously reminding him of why he was here, what he must eventually accomplish, all those that he lost—and he could’ve cared less!
It was a beautiful day even if it was just like all the others, there was tasteless sustenance waiting in the Mess Hall and booze fermenting in the City, and Dustin was in one of the best moods he’d ever experienced since he was fourteen. He was humming to himself, a jovial, improvised tune, almost bouncing into the center of the Obs Deck, as if the stolen greatcoat scraping the floor and resting heavily on his shoulders weighed naught an ounce.
Things were looking up.
[[Bendytimed to right after the above post.]]

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“Don’t I know it,” came his reply in the form of a tranquil purr, eyes closing contently as he sank into a cushion across from this Kang person; Dustin had to catch himself, though, as he realized that said ‘lucky female’ might be a little less boastful than her mate.
Hormones and pride quickly decided that argument. “—You wouldn’t know who I'm talking about anyways. Yoshimi Ito.”
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Of course, that only made Kang inwardly curse the fact that Fonrar wasn't around. He would have very much liked being able to spend some quality time with his mate; he'd never really seen the appeal of sex before, but now he understood it all too well.
"No, I haven't met her. I'm assuming that since you're so willing to share her name, that you're courting now?"
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‘Courting’…that was a different way of putting it, sure. Not that Dustin didn’t understand what Kang was implying—he simply…well, he simply hadn’t been in this position in a very long time. Fourteen years was a long time, was it not? It was half of Dustin’s age, far enough off that he’d yet to reach Michigan—he was searching for spare engines, for goodness sake! The town just happened to be near a scrap metal dump and car disposal area, it seemed convenient and non-troublesome at the time…And then she found him, and…
Was this the same? Was this…?
Dustin blinked and abruptly sat up, completely untroubled. “Sure, why not?”
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All the others were what Kang had described. And Dustin never enjoyed being honestly hypocritical.
His face shifted into something resembling…pity? “So you’re hitched?” the scruffy man chuckled gruffly, glancing over Kang with a raised brow, “Heh…If I can infer anything about your species, then I imagine that the missus isn’t so tolerable of gallivanting partners, mm?”
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"It's not a good idea to get on the bad side of any of the girls. I've seen two of them rip a portcullis out of a ceiling and use it as a battering ram when someone they were close to was killed in front of them," his wings shifted slightly. "That human saying is true: The female of the species is more deadly than the male."
Oh hello my good sir, would you like a fail!tag.
They hadn't interacted much yet, that was true, but even Lash knew this wasn't a guy who was normally this happy. With the fact he hadn't reported here at the due time when his gun seemed so important...something was up.
Something Lash was going to try to find out about.