#desertpoison

[hittheredline]

@desertpoison || The End of the World

“Can't Sleep?”

  He whirls, at first. Snaps around with a face made of surprise and guilt like a kid again, caught slinking out of the window well past curfew – a punk crawling down the hall, consequences snapping at his heels. But it's none of that. Just his brother. Kobra's expression blanks and he shrugs his shoulders.

  “Maybe I'm sleepwalkin',” he absolves his insomnia “nobody locked the door.”

[lcfthaunted]

@desertpoison

She’s nestled in a bar stool against the wall, nursing her one drink of the night, speaker over her head keeping anyone from trying to talk to her—for the most part. She knows Zach doesn’t exactly work ‘hours’; she could be waiting for a while before her brother’s free again, but she doesn’t mind a bit. It’s fun, sitting here and people watching, piecing people together from what she can see. Even when dracs or crows show up out of uniform—something she’s almost certain they’re not supposed to be doing—they’re easy to pick out of the crowd. The ’joys hanging around see it, too; she watches them react almost subconsciously to the BLI security. It’s fascinating.

She also notices when the ’joys react to something else. The redhead comes through the back door—odd. Rickie hadn’t mentioned anything about a new staff member, since they usually crash in the bed she’s currently using, but only staff and very select few others are allowed in the back. She’s only among that number because she’s Zach’s (Rocket’s) sister and visiting him. She doesn’t think she’d be allowed in the back if she was just passing through with her crew, so this stranger-to-her having access certainly sparks her interest—and a ripple goes through the crowd. A ripple she knows, a ripple she recognizes; she’d triggered similar reactions, back when. Well, that narrows the possibilities of this ’joy’s identity considerably.

She doesn’t watch, but keeps an awareness of where the famous face is. It’s interesting, the way the rest of the room reacts, familiarity leaving a sour taste in her mouth. She sips her drink. The staff, especially the Shop girls, seem perfectly at ease with them, though. She waits until they’ve drawn near enough to hear her before leaning across the hightop mounted to the wall. “Cos get ahold’a ya?” she asks with a grin, nodding to their makeup. Cosmic Violence is one of the younger Shop girls, young enough that Mazie’s not sure how she feels about Cos working here. Although, she decides, better here where she can be protected than out on her own.

[ru5t]

@desertpoison //> Unprompted(?)

"you're not hurt, are you?"

  It's hard to know where the dust ends and Tech begins. Caught in her hair and stuck to the sweat — stuck to the place on her shoulder where it's caked into a crimson-colored mud. That's gonna be fun to clean out. But it's not the first time she's met a knife, and for now it doesn't seem to be bleeding anymore so it's easy enough to ignore. She sniffs. Shakes her head a little. Tests to be sure she can still flex her fingers.

  “'f there's half a radio left,” she answers, bypassing the question, “I can get it working.” Doesn't even have to be a whole half. Just enough components for a half. “Can't help with the height, though.” So how they'd get the signal up and out remains to be seen. “Don't guess you got a ladder somewhere in that fancy jacket'a yours?”

[champagneprobllems]

@desertpoison sent : ❛ kiss me again. ❜

“Tan exigente,” Red teases, tugging the Rat King into his lap. “No ‘please’? No ‘Red, won’t you’?” his mouth latches onto Party’s neck, hand sliding up their thigh. “But then, I suppose mi principito isn’t used to asking nicely.” He laughs softly against Party’s throat, dark eyes impish. “Ven aquí, cariño,” he murmurs. Red’s hand leaves their thigh, his fingers catching under their chin to pull them in, finally giving the demanded kiss.

[deadasadisco]

🪩 @desertpoison

She keeps one eye on Strike and Synth, trusting Jounce and Twist to take care of themselves. Aqua sees the kids as her responsibility—not that Jounce and Twist aren’t, but the kids are still fairly green. Sin and Gore aren’t much for clubbing—”Your loss,” Jounce had teased Sin the first time they’d tagged along with Aqua—so she’s the one in charge for the night.

She doesn’t yet trust the club, so refrains from even trying for a nonalcoholic drink. Taking a break from the dance floor, Aqua leans against a high top, shifting her weight from foot to foot, trying to ease the ache her heels cause. She catches Twist watching her from the other side of the club—then realizes he’s not watching her, but someone nearby. She glances around, catches a glimpse of a trademark red, and quickly averts her gaze.

Her father’s warning echoes in her head as she glowers at the table, resisting the urge to round up her crew and bounce. It’s the first time she’s had the misfortune of crossing paths with one of them, and it almost makes her want to strike Hyper Thrust from future visits. There are plenty other clubs in the Zones, though none of them promise freedom from the desert princes. She just hopes the kids don’t notice; Synth has a bit of a hero worship going on for the Rat King, and she does not want to be stuck in the truck with them for several hours after that meeting.

[methanesk15s]

@desertpoison ↳ starter call

Ruby straightens, wiping her hands on her work rag. She unceremoniously dumps her tools in a waiting bag and hefts it over her shoulder. “Nothin’ too bad, just got some sand in delicate places. Unavoidable out here, but you really should get in there every so often to clean it out. Sand chewed up some important bits; I got a temporary fix in there, but you're gonna want a real mechanic to give it a go-over and fix her up proper.”

She offers Party a grin; here comes the sale. “Lucky for you, I know the best in the biz. An’ I was headed back that way, so if you gimme a ride, I can give you directions.”

[hittheredline]

@desertpoison || One, Two... Five!

“It’s just a cut, really.”

  “You're bleedin' on everything, Pois,” she argues sharply, pointing at the smear they've left behind on the way into Diner. “C'mon. Stop bein' stupid and jus' ... lemme see.” Her insistence comes paired with a none-too-gentle prodding. A poke aimed roughly at where the blood is coming from — she never claimed to be a gentle attendant. Never had a real good example of fluffy care to learn from, and she's just mad enough not to care if she's being rough.

  After all, it's just a cut, right?

[ru5t]

@desertpoison //> The End of the World

"how the hell should I know?"

  Time with Kobra has taught her to wash the worst of her hero-worship out of her gaze when looking Poison's way. That's the way things trend with this whatever-it-is: her closeness to one of their number gradually supplanting distant awe with new nearness. Replacing broad sweeps with better views of frayed edges and painted over cracks, tools with which to remind herself they're still a regular old flesh and blood person, however influential. However much she owes her life to what he and the others have shaped the desert into. Still, she manages to view him with some kind of rose-tinted visor so much of the time.

  Though... not just now. Now she scrunches her face up and sends over a look that's half disgruntled half baffled and just outright surprised a little bit, too, even though that made for more than a whole. Like how she might look if her cat stared her in the eyes and asked 'how do I meow?' and she's not sure if she should be losing her shit about her cat talking or questioning his intelligence levels for speaking up just to ask her that.

  “That's not funny,” she scolds, crossing her wiry arms over her middle. Surely it's just a bad joke. “You were just there how couldja not know f'it's still standing?”