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[Jun. 26th, 2009|11:07 pm]
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Who; Frankie and Dustfinger
What: Dinner, a walk in the park
Where: Vegas
When: Tonight
Warnings: Will update if necessary

He was waiting for her at the port key just like he promised. he sat on the ground, back against a wall, Gwin on his shoulder. The marten was the first to react, nails digging into his master's shoulders, as he jumped off, scurrying toward her as she emerged from the port kehy. Dustfinger pushed himself up, opposite hand rubbing at his shoulder. Despite his duster, Gwin's claws had scratched him.

"Hello, Frankie." He smiled, as he stepped toward her. His posture was slightly more depressive than usual, the weight of the day weighing him down. Still, he smiled and reached out to greet his friend with a hug. "I am glad to see you."
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[Feb. 11th, 2009|08:09 pm]
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Who: Meggie and Dustfinger
What: Reuniting
When/Where: The other night/After Dustfinger's performance outside the MGM in Vegas
Warnings: None, but possible Inkheart spoilers

He was exhausted, after the exhibition outside the MGM, but he thought it well worth it. he'd enjoyed the performance, though he had a lot to learn about performing with others. He was used to doing his own thing, accounting only for the proximity of the gathered crowd. Well, at least nothing had caught fire, no one had been singed.

He was breathing hard, as the others made their way into the crowd, mingling, catching up with people they knew. Dustfinger was interested in finding someone, himself, and his dark eyes scanned the crowd. He was just about to let Gwin out of his bag, thinking the marten would surely find her, when he saw her.

She smiled, grabbed his bag and approached her. "Meggie Folchart. Aren't you all grown up."
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[Feb. 6th, 2009|09:33 pm]
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Who: Dustfinger and Del
What: Striking a friendship, perhaps?
When: Tonight
Warnings: Long Haired, Shirtless Paul Bettany is hot.

He pulled his shirt off, folded it neatly and set it down in his bag at the same time he withdrew a bottle that appeared to be full os sparkling glitter. He drank from the bottle, but didn't swallow. He held the sparkles in his mouth, his cheeks puffed which only made the scars that marked his left eye more prominant. Seeming to hold his breath, he removed two items from the bag, and replaced the bottle deep inside. The items were small torches attached to chains, which he wrapped around his hands.

Blowing out his cheeks, fire erupte from his lips the way one might imagine fire came from the mouths of dragos, curling upward into a glowing fireball. Dustfinger lifted first one, then the other torch to the flame, setting the ends to flame. Heaning back tot he point he looked like he might topple backward, his arms began to move in a well calculated move, twirling the torches in the air in a delightful show of concentration and skill.

Perhaps unnoticed among the crowd, a small horned marten named Gwin made his way from person to person, seeking out treasures to steal. Each item he lifted off an unsuspecting onlooker was dropped into Dustfinger's bag along side the bottle of glitter at the precice moment Dustfinger breathed out a new fire ball, flames climbing upward as if to reach the stars, while the man performed his act, dancing among the flame of his torches.

When he'd blown all the fire from his mouth, he slowed his motion, and snuffed the torches out quickly and quietly, bowing before the gathered crowd. He was exhausted, sweat beading his forhead and rolling down his back and chest. Dustfinger wiped his hand across his brow as he stood, turning to his bag to return the torches to their place.
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