Desert Winds RP @deadpeg4sus
Dusty, that’s the only way to describe the air that day, it’s dusty and dry and Dogteeth swears he can feel it settling on his skin. He’s sitting at the counter in the diner, sipping a flat can of soda, currently in human form and awake since before dawn. He’s been listening to the wind outside on this particularly gusty day, it’s not enough for sandstorm, but still going to disturb things out there.
Party seems caught off-guard, but not exactly defensive—the extra help is quite appreciated, frankly, but they’d be lying if they said that they weren’t expecting Dog to speak up about the whole thing.
“Yeah, I did… it’s been especially irritating lately, dealing with ‘em… I heard younger killjoys are getting injured by them out in the farther parts of the zones.”
Party watches the other rebel with inquisitive eyes—it had been quite a while since they got to know each other, but that didn’t stop the killjoy from being interested in the new recruit… their powers were especially enrapturing, with how “peculiar” they were.
“You’d really be up to helping, Dogteeth?”
Yeah, he’d be up for helping, gives him a bit of purpose, especially if it garners any sort of positive attention from the red. “Mhmm, that’s why I offered.” It’s not like hadn’t already been keeping watch every night anyway.
“Besides, I kinda hate to see such a pretty face look so worried about something.” Dog gets up from the counter chair he’d been sat in, tossing the empty soda can he’d been drinking from into a box marked ‘recYclE’ because sure, while the diner has stuff everywhere, the last thing he’s going to do is add to it.
Party blushes a bit at the compliment, huffing as they cross their arms gently. It’s not that they can’t handle compliments well—well, maybe it is, but why would they ever admit that? They can only hope that Dogteeth didn’t notice.
They push themselves off the edge of the counter, and begin to gather whatever supplies they need. It’s mostly just their ray gun, some cans of food, a pocket first-aid kit… seriously, the necessities.
They watch Dogteeth with a look in their eye—something curious, something longing, and a third mysterious thing that they can’t put their finger on. “Need to grab anything?”
“Other than your waist?” That was a rather smooth reply, or so Dog thinks anyway, making sure to punctuate the point by brushing past Party. ”I just need my bag.”
but it’s not like he’s really going to need much, it just makes him feel safer just carrying the comfort item. But it’s near the door anyway, they can just grab it in their way out. Where Dog is already walking, he grabs it easy enough, before stepping out into the bright sun. Dogteeth shields his eyes as they adjust to the light, but he’s waiting for Party, he’s the only one with the keys for the car.
Party smirks, and gives Dog a once-over at the flirt.
“Mmm, that only works if you follow through on it, y’know.” When Dog passes them, Party plants a quick kiss on the side of his head, and smiles impishly when he looks at them. Fairs fair!
Party finally starts getting their stuff together—a small bag with some emergency supplies—and their water canteen, and slips their jacket on before pulling the bag straps over their head. They ensure that the car keys are in their pocket before they peel out, passing Dogteeth through the doorway and making their way to the car, unlocking it swiftly.
“Y’gonna call shotgun?” It’s a pretty useless thing to do, considering it’s just the two of them, but Party still finds the joke funny anyway.
Fair is fair yes, but now Dogteeth is wishing he could pull his hat down over his face just to hide the blush the kiss had caused. That stupid squish has been growing into a full on crush. Once they have what’s needed Dog drops his bag onto the cars back seat, through an open window, before pulling open the passenger side door. “Shotgun” he laughs, as the door swings wide.
After a few seconds a black shepherd jumps up to sit in the seat, tugging on a rope that closes the door specifically put there because every is sick of closing the door for him after a switch. But if you thought he wasn’t going to go along with his head out of the window you would be severely mistaken…besides dog’s don’t blush or have crushes, so he won’t be spending the next, witch knows however long staring at Party instead of anywhere else.
Party slides into the driver’s seat, only to be met with that familiar black shepherd. They laugh, and ruffle Dog’s head; they make sure to get behind the ears, and plant another kiss on his snout gently.
They turn over the car engine, the Trans Am revving to life with a gentle purr; they smile wide, and look to Dog—who’s already staring out the window and staring out into the distance. How cute.
“Ready?” Party shoots—they don’t wait for Dog to reply, though, as they slam their foot on the gas and allow the car to carry them to their destination. Party opens up the middle pedestal between the front seats, rummaging through and grabbing a map. The splay it across the steering wheel, and use a finger to trace the roads as they keep their foot on the gas.
“Excited that you’re comin’ with me, Doggy?”
That is SO dangerous. Dog is wide eyed, they’re speeding and Party is trying to read a map at the same time.
He turns his head to the window and then at the beautiful moron in the drivers seat. He’ll have time to go along with the wind in his face some other time, right now there’s more pressing matters like watching Party doing a stupid thing. ”Give me that!” When had he shifted in a shimmer of light, even Dog isn’t sure, but he’s suddenly snatching the map from the other man’s hands and holding it up intently. He had no idea where they were going but at least they might not crash now.
Party tuts dramatically, throwing a glance at the now-human Dog as they drive with their eyes on the road.
“C’mon, there’s literally nothing for miles!” They sigh, reaching over to ruffle Dog’s hair (again). They do slow down a bit, and they glance over at the map for a second at a time while they drive. “Can you at least tell me what monument I’m turning at?”
They grab their sunglasses from the dashboard, throwing them on and pressing the visor down to keep the sun out of their face; all the windows remain down, and the wind musses their artificially-red hair.
