Dusty "THAT DUMBASS THAT SLEPT WITH COBY" Baker (dusty_storm) wrote in light_of_may, @ 2010-01-31 16:43:00 |
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Entry tags: | 2009-07-02 |
Torturing the normal folk
Who: Dusty and Gideon
When: July 2nd / 2009 - 12:00 noon
Where: Trailer park / DMV
Dusty pulled the door to the trailer closed behind him, his eyes already squinted to nearly closed as the sun beat down into his face immediately. He sighed and stomped down the steps, looking very much like a man who had only just then crawled out of bed. Had he any hair to speak of, it would have been just as disheveled as the rest of him. His jeans were dirty and stretched from too many consecutive days of use, his shirt stained toward the bottom with something that looked an awful lot like blood. There was a hole in it as well, big enough to fit a child's hand through if they wanted -- not that Dusty would ever let a small child get close enough to him to attempt such a thing. As he left the trailer behind, he kicked at one of Gareth's cigarette's left in the dirt road, his boots just as filthy as the rest of him. He was on his way to Gideon's house-van-thing, off to complete some business that had to do with getting registered as being dead. It was a weird thing to think about. Dusty hadn't given the whole immortality concept a lot of thought so far, and it had been very much on purpose. But... now that he was a little more settled into it, he supposed he didn't have much of a choice. If he was going to be able to do anything anymore, he was going to have to get this done. Driving, breaking the law -- all that shit required some sort of identification, it seemed, and his human one wasn't really going to cut it anymore. Sure, hardly nobody knew what had happened to him, and it wasn't as though he'd been reported dead or missing, but still...
He paused outside of Gideon's trailer and pulled Gareth's pack of cigarettes out (that he'd taken out of the other man's jeans just before leaving), bumping one out of the pack in order to place it between his lips. He hadn't lit it just yet, though he was planning on it soon. "Hey!" he called, standing back with his hands on his hips. "Gideon! Get yer ass out here! It's hot as shit an' I ain't real fond of the dizzy thing goin' on in my damn head right now." Dusty pulled a lighter out of his pocket and grumbled, "I ain't real fond of bein' outside at all no more, not when it's like this shit." His bottom jaw jutted out further than normal as he messed with the lighter, attempting to get it to do what he wanted.
Gideon was almost done braiding his hair when he heard Dusty holler. "Comin'!" he shouted, hurrying through the rest. He was making a point of trying to look both tidy and nonthreatening and as much like himself as possible. This ID would have to serve him a long time, and he knew he'd be showing it a lot. He looked sixteen and wound up getting stopped by cops a lot, if it was late and they were bored. Proving he wasn't the sixteen year-old he looked had been a real pain these last forty years. His hair hung in twin, straight pigtails with a bit of brightly colored yarn worked into each. His newest t-shirt (only about six years old) was dark green and featured a panther looking majestic. He'd patched the holes his knees had put in his jeans years ago and even put on socks and boots. He opened the door with the best smile he could muster. He was making a point of being particularly cheerful lately. Good compensation for the way everything was going wrong lately. And he was determined not to let out a hint of jealousy, no matter how much Dusty was wasting what he had and needed to be punched in the mouth for not letting Gareth know he was loved.
If he could keep Gareth's secrets he could keep his own. "Yeah, damn sun." He hopped down from the van and locked the door up again. The light made his freckles pop sharply. "Ain't gonna git any nicer if we just stand here lookin' pretty, though. Let's try'n find some damn shade on our way." The trailer park was pretty barren in that respect. And in general. Even Gideon couldn't really pretend that this was a happy place. Gideon put his sunglasses on. It didn't help much, but he had light eyes and didn't see that well in the bright sunlight even when he was alive. "How's it goin'?" He could tell Dusty was in his usual sour mood, and didn't want to make this hike in silence.
"Sure," Dusty said, gesturing to Gideon as he turned to head back toward his trailer. He turned his head to spit on the way, just for the sake of being crude. "It's goin' okay, I guess. Good as it cain go, or whatever." He flicked the ashes off of the end of the cigarette and put it back between his lips again. "You wanna cigarette? Took 'em from that asshole I live with. Y'know the guy... dumb, too cheerful fer his own good, stupid, whatever." Dusty grinned and pulled out a set of car keys, which he jingled in front of Gideon. "I stole the truck keys fer the day. We ain't walkin' to town, damn it. Too fuckin' bright outside."
"Oh, ok." He preferred walking, even in sunlight, but he knew he was an odd one that way. He was glad to hear Dusty didn't seem to mean his insults to Gareth today. That was something. At least he made Gareth sort of happy. Sometimes. "No thanks. Gave that up a couple'a years before I died an' shit. I was sick fer a good long while before then, an' smoke just made the whole lungs fallin' apart thing burn worse." He'd forgotten that he hadn't mentioned his almost-cause of death to Dusty before. He and Gareth talked about it a lot, after all. He shaded his eyes with one hand. He hadn't been in the truck yet.
Dusty pulled open his side of the truck and climbed in, pulling the door closed behind him before reaching across to unlock the other side for Gideon. "C'mon, get in here. You ain't gotta smoke I guess, though it ain't like it's gonna hurt you none. Yer fuckin' dead, hoss." Dusty gave him a pointed look, one brow lifted as he turned the truck on. It roared to life and idled noisily. The muffler needed to be replaced at some point... which meant that they probably wouldn't get around to it for some time. "Glad I don't gotta worry about dyin' of lung cancer or none'a that shit."
"Guess there's that." The smoke didn't really effect him anymore. It didn't Dusty either, unless Gabriel house had some magic way to carry drugs through their system without blood that moved, but if it was a comfort thing, nothing wrong with that. Gideon hopped into the seat and buckled himself in. "Easier t'swim, too, though y'don't float so good. Y'come out ahead a couple'a ways." Not ways that made a lot of difference. Gideon still would have preferred to live out his mortal life, but he couldn't claim there weren't things to life about the in-between place where he lived.
Dusty laughed uproariously at Gideon's words, even though it wasn't particularly hilarious. It didn't matter. He was allowed to think whatever he wanted to about it. He pulled out of the lot next to his and Gareth's trailer and took off toward the road, not honestly all that sure where they were going. "You know the way to this place, right Gid? 'Cause I ain't really sure, none. Not real familiar with this place yet, I guess. Ain't never made a point of really settling in 'til about now." He shrugged, running his tongue over his teeth as he drove, shifting the gears as was needed.
"Yeah, figured it out yesterday." Gideon vaguely enjoyed navigating. It was fun, and knowing his surroundings was important for full moons. He had to know where to look and what little alcoves there might be. He gave Dusty the basic directions. "I'll tell ya when streets are comin' up. I'm glad they got this. I'm so damn tired'a havin' t'use a fake ID an' arguin' m'way into not gittin' sent home because I'm out after curfew." Gideon hadn't even thought of the registration aspect of this whole thing. He just saw it as a convenience. If he wanted to get beer for someone or meet someone in a bar, life would be a lot easier now. He'd been coasting on his fangs for a while.
Dusty laughed, shaking his head as they drove along. "I ain't never had to worry 'bout that, not for a long damn time anyhow. And hey, I may as well get this thing too though, 'cause I sure as shit ain't never gonna get it on my own." He glanced across to where Gideon was seated, taking him in quickly before turning back to the road. "So what you been up to these days 'r whatever? We ain't never spent time together in like a handful'a nights or some shit. I was beginnin' to think you were all bored'a me. That ain't true, right? I ain't boring."
"Thought y'might be pissed at me for scarin' the kitty." He said it with a smile. He hadn't really been hanging out with Dusty because he'd felt like he had to be on hand for next time Gareth needed to come and cry at him, but that wasn't something he could really say, was it? "She's awful cute, by the way. For the couple seconds I saw her before she bolted, anyway. Sorry 'bout that. Guess I never got t'tellin' Gare about me an' critters." He'd completely wandered off topic, but he didn't really notice. "Sucks, too. I mean, shit, only thing missin' from my wanderin' weirdo hippie life is a big fluffy dog in a tye-die bandanna, right?"
Glancing over to Gideon, Dusty's mouth fell open, his jaw hanging low. "What?" he asked, brow drawn together as a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "What happened, now?" He coughed out a laugh, shaking his head slowly side to side. "Yer tellin' me that my dumbass roommate brought our tiny little Princess over to see you? You shittin' me or what, Gid? He really did that? She bolted off?" Dusty let out a low whistle. He'd have to have a talk with Gareth later, concerning the safety of the kitten he'd brought home with him. "Yeah, you's right, by the way. You need a damn dog, least'as so I can come over an' play with it. It ain't right, a man not havin' a dog in his life. But I cain't, 'cause someone is scared'a dogs. Yeah, I bet you cain figure out who that is. Good grief."
Gideon covered his mouth and snickered. He'd have to apologize later to Gareth for tattling. He'd sort of assumed he might mention that incident to Dusty. If just to explain why poor Cat might have been skittish the rest of that day. Poor kitten. "Well, I'll remember t'give him shit. What kinda dumbass is scared'a dogs?" Not something he'd ever say to Gareth's face, but getting along with Dusty often meant being a bit mean. It just happened. "Only I cain't. 'Cus unless I meet a were what wants a ride an' likes bein' their four-legged self best, an' some'a them do. Met one the other day. He got kinda pissed when I knew he weren't actually a doggy. But I threw some sticks for the guy an' we made up. Or maybe... what're they? Familiars? 'Cept they don't leave their people. So ain't a dog under the sun that's gonna not try'n eat me, never mind ride around in the back'a Tara an' keep me company. I'd want, like, what're they called? A mal-you-mutt? Somethin' huge."
"Yeah, you definitely better be sure an' make fun'a him, 'cause it's downright disgraceful fer a man, if that's what he is, to be scared'a no damn dog." Dusty's brow furrowed as Gideon seemingly went on and on about dogs and weres... and things he wasn't sure he understood. "What?" he asked when he had to opportunity to speak again. "What'a you mean? I don't quite git what yer meanin' there, Gid. But I mean... a mal-you-mutt... uh, that sounds good. I mean, ain't that like one'a those big mean dogs? They's pretty good at keepin' shit safe. One'a them bit Gareth when he was like nine or somethin' and he damn near pissed all over himself and me. He was like, cryin' an' shit. So ridiculous. And his daddy had to stitch his ass up, an' then like, he got chased by that same damn dog, and it bit him somewhere else an' he was all cryin' again an' it was embarrassin'. Wish you could'a seen it, Gid. It was hilarious. And by that, I mean pathetic. I love him, though. You know, in that uhh... brother kinda way or whatever." He sent Gideon a sharp look. "I ain't gay or nothin'. Anyway, dogs is scary to Gareth. And shit."
Pfft. And pfft again. But whatever. He wasn't going to argue with Dusty when the man was giving him a ride to the stupid DMV. And, that was a pretty good reason to be afraid of dogs. Gideon had been a little wary around water for a while after some of the older kids had held his head in the river for a while. He didn't actually remember what he or his kitty had done to deserve that. A memory fifty-some years gone was always going to be a shady one. Still, he hadn't stayed afraid of rivers for very long. He wasn't going to actually tease Gareth, but he wouldn't introduce Gare to his stick-throwing buddy, either. Weirdo. But he did note Dusty's confusion. "'Member, first night we met I was all over in, like, doberman bites? Animals hate me. That's a Luna thing. Little ones run an' big ones try'n kill me. But I git along fine with weres what're in their critter forms, an' when I've seen folks that're witches're whoever that have the talkin' animals that help them? They don't mind me. So no, cain't have a puppy." He made an exaggerated pouty face.
"Oh," Dusty said, tilting his head back a bit as they turned down another road. "Yeah, yeah... I remember that shit now. You was all nasty an' whatever. Got it." He smirked, glancing to Gideon briefly. "That's too damn bad, though, man. Real too damn bad. Dogs is great things, when they's good. You know, when they ain't bitin' people and eatin' shit they ain't supposed to." He shrugged and cracked his neck, one way and then the other. "We should go into the DMV all like, give us our shit! an' whatever." He laughed, much more amused by his joke than he should've been. "I'll have my damn wings out, an' you cain act all crazy like that one time when we tied you down. It'll be good times."
Gideon really didn't think that was funny, but he supposed laughing was an easy way to deal with it. "Don't think I cain just, uh, turn that on. Wonder what paperwork we have t'fill out? When I got my driver's license it was a pain in the ass, but what kinda shit do ya have for vampires? Please enter yer full name, height, length of fangs, favorite blood type..." No, that really wasn't funny. He couldn't think of anything else. "I fuckin' hate lines... But it's better'n havin' t'git new fakes made every five yearsish. They always lookit me funny, too, since I don't want one that says I'm over twenty-one. 'Cus everyone else just gits 'em t'drink. But I don't even look nineteen like I really am, huh? Last thing I need is some asshole decidin' t'take it away so I cain't buy crappy beer I ain't gonna drink."
Dusty snorted a laugh, even if Gideon wasn't trying to be funny. He was in at least a somewhat decent mood right now, even despite having to go out in the middle of the goddamn day. Talk about a pain in the ass. "I ain't got a favorite blood type, so it looks like I'm shit outta luck, don't it?" he joked. "I never get carded no more. When you look like this," he said, taking his hat off to display his forever receding hairline and mostly bald head, "you ain't get carded for shit no more. Ain't no fuckin' eighteen-year-olds look like me, do they? Got some goddamn wrinkles and shit, too. Well, I did. I think they's mostly smoothed out though now that I'm all immortalized or whatever the hell." He shrugged. It was weird talking about it, because he and Gareth just didn't.
"Wish I'd gone just a few more years. As is, I gotta flash fangs fer folk t'pay attention t'me, an' that's only been the last couple months. Plus dumb teenagers try'n talk t'me, real creepy folks hit on me, an' fuck, maybe I'da growed a li'l bit more. Be nice t'be able t'reach shit." If he could get rid of one thing it'd be the freckles. They made him look all the younger, and far too cute to take seriously on top of that. Weighed against all the trouble his young face caused him, the few times it had gotten him out again didn't count for much. "Maybe I'da ended up lookin' like my li'l bro does. Prolly still shorter, but he don't look like he's gonna sneak into PG-13 movies. It'd be nice." He'd also forgotten Dusty didn't know about his brother, unless Gare had mentioned. And considering what had happened the rest of that night, the whole thing had probably fallen right out of Gareth's head.
"Creepy folks try an' hit on you?" Dusty turned incredulous eyes on Gideon, the look fleeting before he returned his attention to the road. "I mean, not like to be insultin' or nothin', but man, you don't quite look of age or whatever. Y'know? I mean, hell, I wouldn't hit on you. That's just weird." He shrugged, licking his lips as he wondered how far they were from this stupid DMV place. He hated stupid shit like this. "Wait, what'd you say just now? You got a damn brother? That's fuckin' great, right? You get to talk to him still? He still alive 'r whatever?"
"Um, that'd be why they's creepy, Dusty..." Not that it exactly happened often, but even Gideon had noticed a few eyes on him when he'd met with Misha. A tight-bodied teenager apparently old enough to get past the door was inevitably going to bring a few eyes, and boy did it freak him out. "Oh, figured that'd of got t'you. From Gare, at least. I hadn't seen 'em, any of 'em, since I left home, but a week back or so, found one!" Alive? "Um..." Sort of a loaded question, that. "Depends... how y'wanna define that? Um... 'parently fallin' in with bloodsuckers runs in the family. He ain't Luna like me. House of... Odin, he said? He ain't told me much about it yet. Yeah, ran into Matty'n his, uh, roommate downtown." They both seemed not to discuss their relationship openly, and Gideon didn't really feel like hearing Dusty's witticisms on the subject. "Changed his name, though. Lotta vampires do, an' it's real weird t'git used to. So he's not Matt, he's Ashley. Mark's one too, though I ain't seen him yet. He lives out west, seems. I ain't found out about the girls yet. Twins's the only ones littler than me. Hell, at this rate, wouldn't be surprised t'find out they all turned out undead, too. Cripes, all eight'a us could be, like, an' undead army. 'Cept not very scary, since we's all skinny blond kids. Though the oldest couple're fuckin' bossy..."
Dusty glanced to Gideon as the smaller vampire rambled on about his family, nodding, blue eyes wide as he attempted to take it all in. It was a lot to process for someone like him, and considering he was driving at the same time, he probably wouldn't remember half of it later. He was just like that. "That is weirdness, Gideon, pure an' simple. It ain't right, a whole family bein' taken into the world'a vampires or whatever shit. Man." It seemed wise when it'd come to mind, but now that it had come out of his mouth he wasn't so sure about it. "But I mean, whatever works or somethin'. I mean... I don't know. I cain't imagine my family bein' all vampires. I ain't got siblings, though. Mom never uhh... she, we..." He let it trail off, shaking his head. "Never mind. I don't wanna talk about it."
Gideon was happy to talk about his family, whatever their faults and his, but he was under no delusion so grand that he felt everyone should be equally gleeful. He nodded curtly and let that be that. He was pretty good at dealing with Dusty, altogether. Dusty was easy. Either he was in a bad mood and he'd want to kill everything around him, or he was pretty happy and kidded about whatever happened by, in an amusing if crude and rather cruel way. And as long as one kept him cheerful, it was alright. Gideon let a few moments go by in silence and changed the subject. Maybe not deftly, but with great deference. "So betcha anythin' just 'cus those're fancy undead IDs don't mean the picture won't make us look deader. An' drunk an' stupid, too." No matter how nicely one tried to turn out for ID photos, the end result was looking like a crazy hobo. Fact of life.
As easy as though he'd stopped living, Dusty had fallen into total silence as Gideon let the previous conversation sit for a moment. He wasn't comfortable talking about his family, wasn't sure why he'd brought it up at all, and as the silence continued he felt the tension in his muscles intensifying, layering up faster than he could control it. He was thankful for Gideon when he started speaking again, glancing to him from the road and back again. "Jesus," he said, shaking his head with a chuckle, "ain't that the fuckin' truth, Gid. Hell, last ID picture I took I ended up lookin' like a damn serial killer. I ain't one'a those." He gave Gideon a pointed look, as though he needed to drive it home. Sitting up off the seat, Dusty tugged his wallet out of his back pocket and tossed it to the smaller vampire. "Look at that shit, Gid. It's downright retarded." The photo within was awful, tinged blue, Dusty's face covered in scruff and a look of definite aggression emanating up from it.
"Aw, doncha look just picture perfect there. Work of art." Gideon snickered. He did look a bit like the sort of guy you'd see on the front page following the disappearances of local high school girls. "I'll show you my old one once we ain't drivin'. Not that I oughta take it in, maybe. 'Cus it's a fake an' all. But what the hell else was I supposed t'do back then, huh? I dunno." Gideon fished it out. The shady woman with too many tattoos he'd gotten his last fake ID from had been careful with detail, which he needed. He wasn't trying to buy booze from the 7/11, he needed to have an actual identity if he was pulled over. The result was a picture quite true to DMV standards, in that despite his efforts to comb his hair nicely, it was sticking out at four different angles, his face was colorless and low on detail from the lighting, and his expression was dazed and pretty stoned. And the whole thing had heavy stripes through it. Lovely.
Dusty laughed heartily at the comments on his driver's license. He knew it was bad. He and Gareth had made light of it many times in the past, so it wasn't hurting his feelings any. When it was handed back he simply tossed it onto the seat, knowing they would be replacing it soon anyway. He set his wallet there too, not really minding it was hanging open. Gideon wasn't the type of person to just take shit, and Dusty didn't think there was a lot in there of interest anyway. "Good, you should show it to me. I like lookin' at other people's pictures. You should ask Gare t'show you his later. It's priceless." Dusty tried to glance over to see Gideon's, struggling to keep his eyes on the road at the same time. "We gettin' near to this place yet?" he asked, not even really sure they were going the right direction.
"Yup, just another couple'a blocks. Turn there." He pointed. "Oh, fuck yeah, I gotta. Gare's almost as pale as me. Bet he's all washed out an' ghosty lookin'." He smirked. "I think I still have my real one. From like... 1966. I'll find y'that one. I still had like, this godawful Beatles hair an' I was borrowin' clothes, so this shirt was like six sizes too big. Fuckin' hilarious." Ringo Starr looked good that way. Gideon did not. Funnily enough, it wasn't as bad a picture of him as the others had always been, as though the universe were compensating for his awful fashion sense with a decent and almost flattering likeness of his face. It was also one of only two pictures he had of himself alive, so it held a certain amount of fascination. "Hope parkin' don't suck too much. They never have enough spaces. One reason I usually walk places." Though that was more general philosophy than related to their errand.
Dusty turned where Gideon gestured, snorting a laugh as the other vampire teased Gareth. "Hell yeah," he said, unable to hold the laughter in. "He looks like a fuckin' dead man. But oh man, Gid, you gotta show me your original. I have got to see that shit. Sounds downright amazin'." He grinned wide, fangs bared as he pulled into the parking lot they'd been looking for and began the great parking-spot search. "Yeah, it ain't lookin' like there're a ton'a choices right now... kinda busy, I guess. Hope you don't mind walkin' a bit to the building," he joked. "I know you's all outta shape an' everything, but I figure a little exercise ain't gonna do us no harm. Not like we's in threat of havin' heart failure or some shit." Dusty finally found a spot and pulled the truck into it, his job fairly crooked, and pulled in a little too far. He cut the engine and grabbed his wallet and two-way phone, holding those along with his keys as he climbed out. "Lock yer door if you could. It ain't got any of those fancy locking things."
"Neither does Tara. They confuse me, honestly. I wish I'd got t'be a cranky ol' geezer, y'know. I'da been so good at it. Damn kids'n their computerboxes an' their shit music." He made an exaggerated, scowly face. "Speakin' of, did I tell ya I caved'n got a cellphone? Needed it. The whole demon defense force thing. Gotta have a way t'git in contact. So far, though, it's just got me dragged t'work fer an extra shift. But it's a good thing my partners cain git aholda me somehow, I guess. I know where he works, but y'gotta be fast fer it t'work, I guess." He closed the door, replacing his wallet in one pocket and checking the cursed little piece of complex technology in the other. Still there. He sent a glare up at the cloudy sky, knowing the sun was hiding back behind the drizzly gray, and hurried after Dusty on his shorter legs with his pigtails bouncing on his shoulders. He couldn't have looked less like a cranky old man if he'd tried.
Dusty smirked at Gideon as the older vampire went on about damned kids and their music. It was cute in a way, though Dusty would never vocalize that aloud. "I didn't know you got a cell phone. That's pretty cool, though Gare an' I don't got those neither. This is like... a two-way thingy, only really gets me to talkin' to him I think. I don't really know much 'bout 'em other than it lets Gare get on my damn nerves whenever the hell he wants to..." Dusty shrugged and tucked his wallet into his keys before heading toward the building. He fumbled with his two-way, watching as Gideon ran to catch up with him. There was an almost snotty look in his eyes as they walked together, as though he were amused by the fact that he was built much larger than Gideon would - literally - ever be. "I hope this don't take long. I ain't very patient."
"Then you ain't never got along too good with the government employees'a this lovely institution, has you?" Not that Gideon knew very well first hand. He'd only gone through the mess of getting a license once before he'd died and had to switch over to less licit suppliers. The memory was faint and he'd been so freaked out about both messing up his test and someone figuring out that the older friend signing off on his form was in no way his parent he hadn't really had attention to spare for the lines and waiting. He'd heard plenty of bitching about it since, though, and Gideon was perfectly willing to believe his friends in that. "Feh. Gonna do like, an eye exam like they always did? I'm shit at those. Maybe I'm a li'l bit nearsighted. "Or maybe I just don't like gittin' glared at by a lady old enough t'be God's granny with a beehive hairdo while I try'n tell if that's a tiny F or a tiny E." He braced his hands behind his head and stretched a bit, bracing himself with a bit of a grin. "We git stuck too long, we cain start up A Hundred Bottles'a Beer on the Wall. Bet they serve us quick."
"No," Dusty said, shaking his head as he grasped the metal of the door to pull it open, "I ain't never got along with these folk. It ain't right, makin' a man wait like that." He continued talking just as loud as he had been when they reached the inside, strutting his stuff as though he owned the place, much like a male rooster would. "They just like makin' us wait, as a way'a keepin' us in line or some shit. It ain't right, Gid." He sniffled, reaching up to tug his hat down a little over his eyes. "What we supposed to do? I guess git in line like all these normal folk over here." Dusty jerked his elbow into Gideon's side and laughed, pointing as he said, "Hey, hey, lookit that guy over there... he ain't never missed a meal, ain't he?"
Gideon didn't miss the resemblance to a rooster, but he had the presence of mind to avoid cock jokes, and just got nicely into line. Gideon enjoyed rebelling, and the DMV seemed like an okay place to do it, but he lacked the requisite meanness to do it with any vitriol. "Um, prolly... I guess?" He twisted a lock of hair around his finger. This might be a hard afternoon to get through. Even the line that told you which other line to go to was long. He thought about countering the fat joke with a bald one, but he didn't really want Dusty mad at him the whole time they were in line, either. "I think it's mostly the velvet ropey things what keep us in line. The poor public servants just wish we'd leave 'em the fuck alone. An' we wish the same. Pity no one gits what they want, here."
Dusty shrugged and stood in line next to Gideon like a good boy for the time being, arms folded over his chest as he waited. "This is gonna take all damn day, ain't it?" He pouted, leaning all his weight off to one side, much like a child might. He wasn't patient by any stretch of the imagination, and this was a little bit like hell. It was worse than dealing with Gareth when he was drunk, and that was pretty damn rough. Speaking of Gareth... He almost asked Gideon what he thought of the weight-loss he'd noticed on his friend, but kept it to himself for now. Maybe Gareth was just on a diet. That made sense, somehow... sorta.
"Well, pretty much, yeah. I got a book in my pocket." He patted the rectangular bulge in the pocket of his carpenter's jeans. "But hey, we cain freak people out. That'll be fun. Fang smiles an' all." Gideon grinned for demonstration purposes. The girl on the other side of the velvet dividing ropes jumped backward a little and Gideon was a bit proud of himself. Not that he wanted to scare her, but he was used to slightly hostile looks for his fashion sense. Just as fair to get it for his teeth. "I'll read out loud if y'want. It's about swords'n monsters'n cool stuff like that." He pulled out a mass-market paperback with a cover illustration of a blond in armor swinging a sword around on horseback.
Dusty's eyes went wide at the way the girl backed off, a laugh bubbling up out of him before he could help himself. "That is the coolest shit ever, Gid. What the fuck, man. Why ain't I thought'a that one?" He grinned hard himself, pleased as the girl turned around, looking fearful and resigned to the fact that there was nothing she could do about them. Dusty turned back toward Gideon a moment later, arms folding over his chest as he glanced the smaller man over briefly. "Swords an' monsters an' shit? I dunno... but uhh... yeah, I guess that'd be alright. Go on, then." He licked his lips and tilted his head back a bit, brow knit as thought waiting to be told something terribly important.
Gideon smiled more normally and opened to the first page. He'd just read this, of course, but he wasn't going to make Dusty start in the middle of the story. He leaned against the nearest wall, reading as seriously as he could about gods and heroes and monsters, going slowly to make sure his tongue didn't trip on him.