Riddick & Deirdre - On the Beach (During the Fireworks Display)
Celebrations were something free people enjoyed. Convicts didn't have time to celebrate; they were trying to survive.
Riddick had spent too much time surviving to daydream of anything else. Dreams were for the weak. All he needed was reality since he was fucking glad to have the chance to enjoy it. The odds had been stacked against him literally since birth. Furya -his so-called 'home planet'- was being Purified of all male Furyans; Riddick had been tossed in with the garbage with his umbilical cord wrapped around his neck. His name had come from the system he'd been entered into upon discovery. There was no way for him to know if his birth mother had even held him, even for a minute, before throwing him out the same as all the rest of the trash. Who would expect a man with his past to be a dreamer? What kind of dreams was he supposed to have? The only answer he'd ever come up with had been nightmares.
No chance of that.
Riddick was a nightmare in and of himself.
Burying his face in Deirdre's hair, Riddick made a sound of discontent as another blast of irritating light fired into the sky, "The fuck is wrong with these people? This is supposed to be something other than torture?"
His goggles were tightened enough to leave an indentation in his scalp. They were dark enough to protect him from a planet with triple suns yet the pyrotechnic display celebrating Monday, July 4, tested the limits of the tint. Riddick physically couldn't look up any longer without risking temporary blindness. His wild woman wouldn't think less of him for admitting the weakness. Deirdre of Amber accepted him as he came; Riddick had started to understand from her limitations were not the same as weaknesses.