#twoknifed

[dreyf]

@twoknifed wants to play starter roulette! - berlin

          “You don’t belong with us, do you?” Venice poses the question early that morning, long before the sun or any of their team have risen. He wakes early, always has; a habit inherited from his pops in their black marketer days. Remember, Kolya, no sunlight should ever be wasted.

          “I mean no offense, but...” The leather jacket shrugs tighter around his shoulders and his mouth twists in lopsided amusement. “It is not hard to see that you don’t exactly come from the same world. Every day you come dressed in fine clothes, critic the wine at last night’s dinner, and you don’t hold yourself like a common thief. You are...” Venice pauses to search for the word, grabbing at the air as if he expects to pull it from the ether. Not finding it, he laughs. “..elita. Not a man I think should need to rob from anyone.”

[numbfour]

@twoknifed wants to play starter roulette! - calling señor berlin from the grave...

          “ —Oh, you fan-TAS-tically nauseating dicksoirée!”

          Amsterdam is a little drunk. Most (including himself) would say he’s always a little drunk as long as there’s drink to be had. But it is not drunkenness that has Amsterdam whirling on Berlin; it’s a long-coming explosion of agitation and general lost patience with the resident King Asshole. It’s the straw that finally broke the camel’s back, as they say, and he has to wonder how Berlin’s own spine isn’t splitting in half under the weight of such a massive ego.

          “Say that again,” Amsterdam wheedles in a quavering exhale. He’s swaying up to Berlin, bright green eyes brighter still with a kind of rare and wild predatory excitement. I dare you, they say. I fucking double-dog dare you.