drippiesfm

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𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐏𝐏𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓: DARIO EDIT ( 1 / ∞ )

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dario, if nothing else but principled in the art of metal bending, would have let bygones be bygones, but the structure and lack of care motivated him to act. the collar leaving marks on the skin never occurred to dario, though if the dragonborn were to gift another freedom, it could have been through breaking those boundaries. but dario offered help as simply as a common man might. recoiling at the idea of a tit-for-tat, he thought, what makes you think i would charge for such a horrendous job? the dragon could emphasize a need for advertisement or a deluge of esteem, but neither were the true cause.

"no cost," they answered with resolute posture. "unless, of course, your trust comes with a price." they wait a beat... a moment's silence piercing through the edge of reticence. "do you trust me?

There's a ghost of a smile flashing over his experience at the coached insult. Interesting certainly summed it up and the man almost seems personally insulted on his behalf. Fix it for you. Finally his hands still, pinching the button and fabric. It was something he'd never considered as far as his options went. The thought of a repair would mean it leaving his skin for some time, and that thought alone terrified him more than any sort of pain or discomfort.

Morri needs to clean the skin underneath. Properly. maybe if it's fixed he could get something done about that too. He eyes out the stranger, suspicion growing due to his interest and seeming kindness. He's far too... sincere. A stranger shouldn't care unless he's already eyed out Morrigan as an easy target. It must be written all over his face: the way he hides and shrinks into himself, the wide eyes and flush at any conversation.

"How much?" he asks, still holding onto his shirt. There's got to be a catch, and payment isn't a bad one. Unless of course, it'll lead to sparks, and more hurt.

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"yeah" ⸺ he takes a couple of steps back to give them their much needed space. he didn't want to force it down anyone's throat, not intentionally, but it was a situation of life or death. he didn't know how much longer gabs had without her fancy sprinkled coffee cups and her 35 dollar entrees. he just wanted her home, honestly. "she's been missing for a couple of days. her name is gabs ⸺ i mean" he realizes he'd never fully government named her. her name saved in his phone and in his heart was going to be babe, forever and always. "gabrielle ryu. her family is offering a reward and we really want her to come home."

she is thoroughly in her cups when a missing person's page is thrust in her face. she halts in her step, the paper fluttering against her forehead and nose before she reaches up to take it. "keep an eye out...?" she knocks his hand ever so gently away from her so that she can get a better look at the poster.

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"that's literally all i need from you." he presses his hands together, like the spongebob boi emoji. "i just need you to stay with me, don't die, and give it all you can." that was the plan. that was how they were going to deadpool and wolverine it. work together, maybe halfway kill each other in a honda odyssey and save the end of skeeter's world. "you can kick a lot more ass than i can, so you're going to be the muscle in your little strawberry helmet, and i'm going to try and listen to the heart of the cards with it. just have a little faith okay?"

"Alright, maybe I deserved that low blow," she said. "It still doesn't answer my questions, Skete." Jolene crossed her arms, her voice soft despite it all. "If you wanted, you could sleep on my couch for the next calendar year," she said. "That's the only support I'm qualified to give you. Finding a soul? What's your grand plan for accomplishing that one, Skete? My only skills are in being a human shield or serial organ donor."

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"because it's my duty as a friend to keep others from bad mouthing you." it was a simple answer, one he was ready to explain in its full capacity. "friends don't let other friends talk bad about each other." not to say he was ready to start fights with others. skeeter was the absolute worst when it came to physical combat. in fact he was much of a dead fish when it came to the action. he wasn't quick, he wasn't a strategist and he wasn't skilled at any on singular move set. he could get his ass kicked for hours on end, talk his shit, and still have more to say. that was his super power, and if it meant talking shit about how fins was the better person than whoever had the balls to say fins was stupid... well, that's what skeeter would do. friends get their asses kicked for other friends, don't they?

"that's nice of you to say, but you know you're smart too. there's levels to smartness, and it's about finding what level you're at."

"it is? how come?" he doesn't feel it's important, but he's also not the arguing type. as long as someone is confident enough, he's pretty easily swayed. whether it lasts... that depends on how much time he gets to himself to think. but more than himself, it makes fins sad to hear that skeeter goes through the same things. and how? every time he's asked him a question, he's had a good answer ready and waiting. he can't imagine how anyone would think he's dumb! "...sometimes, yes," he agrees, frowning. "but you shouldn't. neither of us. you're very smart, skeeter. one of the smartest people i know." maybe axel would be the smartest, but it's hard to fault him for having a family bias.

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a twitch of the eyebrow. dario has to run the words twice in his mind. the second time a grin spreads wide as the words are pressed against braincells and membranes. villainous titters and cackles erupt at the joke they've made. "do you?" then a bite of the lower lip tames those crows. "i could show you what kind of bike I have if you're down for a ride."

maybe it's the danger of it all. superheated mutant, lots of flammable material... is it any wonder he's always drawn to his worst ideas? max doesn't even know if he can handle a bike of this sort, with how delicate his heart is, but like hell that's going to stop him from twirling his tail over the big, muscular, handsome hunk at the shop. laughing giggling. he's giggling. lightly, he half-jokes, "you know, i say the same thing about myself." he's so funny. "but, uh—speed. definitely speed. i'm not much of a traveler." and before he even takes a breath again, "what kind of bike do you have?"

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he wasn't anywhere close to finishing. the glob of ichor only fuels more of that aggression housed within those scorching dragon-like veins. the sight of that sticky sap creates a sting within for more and ezra plighted for more, and more he would get ⸺ a quick jab in the ribs pierces through bone as the copious amounts of metal rings upon his fingers connect with the cartilage and sinew. then another- on the opposite side before releasing ezra to sink in their festering puddles of black pus. "where. is. the. bike?" dario asks once more before driving the tip of their boots into the stomach of the other.

"this isn't a game."

oh, this is exactly what he's been looking for. and to think, he hadn't even been looking for it! who would have thought that swiping one little bike would lead to something so... incredible? he's seeing stars—and not just because he's been taking blows to the head. maybe mostly because he's been taking blows to the head... "oh, no..." he moans—no, not in pain—dead weight as dario pulls him up like a wet cat. "i think you—" he spits up a glob of ichor, "—i think you'd better p-punish me again. few more hits and i might—" he has to stop and spit again. his nose is definitely broken. fantastic! "—get the message."

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"not quite." his chuckles take on a darker note, something dissonant and likely trumpeted by the black keys of a piano. "dust, and not... mold?" his pride boasts the pompously as the cat is let out of the bag. "specifically bronchopulmonary aspergillosis...?"

"well, we've got that in common at least," he snorts, only to sneeze again. and again. and again. and, bloody hell! again! "s'far as i'm aware, it's just dust." after a pause, just to make sure he isn't about to sneeze again, he continues, "you mean t'say you're some kind of allergy mutant?" no... that's clearly not what's been said, but it's hard to think when he's got a killer sinus headache, damn it!

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the flattery obviously goes a long way... but axel tries to hide his proud little raccoon grins. there were too many teeth in his mouth⸺ it was easy to look like he was barring his teeth or snarling in indifference. tiny paws press against each other in prayer form as he continues to contemplate the idea. "so you're building an army? so long as you're not buttering me up for failure." but the more axel thinks about it the more it sounds promising. "so what kind of plan are we talking about?"

"a war against extinction." maybe a little abstract, but still true. "if we continue to let these humans experiment on us, they're just going to take all the bits they think are useful and make sure the rest of us die off. i've seen it before." humanity and their false cures had weakened an entire generation, and still they hungered for more. he knows now what he didn't know then—they won't stop unless he makes them stop. "we're going to pull the rug out from under them. i have people working on it right now." he smiles, just shy of warmly. "i could use someone with your talents on my side."

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"so we're thinking naked mole rat type?" relatively easy to befriend. someone lurking in the shadows and not expecting to fight their way into the light. someone like him when he was smaller... before the world had changed him into the one of the most callous pieces of shit there was in the world.

"think about what you would like." it was a difficult musing to be honest. some things that most mutants wanted were abstract: a sense of belonging, a home to go home to, a community where they were accepted⸺ while these things were completely within fins' capacity of giving, it was harder to earn someone's trust. "something that reminds you of home, but with a twist, you know?"

"yeah, i'll miss them. i don't know if i'll see them again." axel makes him feel a little better about it, though. the feeling, that is... not necessarily the loss part. that will take a little longer, but he's gone through it quite a few times in his lifetime... it's almost routine now, as sad as that is. "you always know the right thing to say," he continues, bobbing his head in another nod. "wish i was good with words like you are." but not in an envying way—an appreciative way. "um," he tries to count, but quickly realizes that counting and speaking is too much for him; "i don't know. they were small, like you. but not furry. i don't think they had any hair." he tries to grasp for something more defining, but... fins' eyesight isn't very good. they were too quick on their feet for him to get a good look beyond that. "confused..." he chews on the idea that he isn't responsible for their emotions, but it all seems a little far-fetched... "...maybe. what kind of gift do you think i should get?"

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he lived. ***HE LIVED***

nothing like this has ever happened to kyle wilson gladstone todd. not that he had ever imagined to merge with another mutant. but it happened. and he picked the right day to let science win. he felt- stronger, quicker, bigger, and invincible. he was the best version of himself and it was all thanks to that dude slipping on the floor with their bloodied nose.

"come on⸺" the voice beckons, though it sounds entirely different than kyle's. deeper, hollower and more demented. "don't you want to ride me?!"

just as that viscous darkness reaches kyle's back, his nose starts to drip. not promising, but he pretends like that's expected. it's not. he's only done this one other time, and it had been to stop that bloody mess! never one to concern himself with restraint, ezra continues on unimpeded, face crinkling the more corrupted energy he transfers. right now it feels a little like his brains are being sucked out through a straw. hmm, interesting... and different. but ezra is nothing if not persistent, and makes sure the both of them are held in place until he's finished the job. only then does he stumble, collapsing to his knees. pinching his nose to stop the bleeding, he's still a little out of breath as he looks up at his creation. "huh, imagine that," he starts, nasally; "you lived!"

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𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐏𝐏𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓: HAN EDIT ( 2 / ∞ )

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𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐏𝐏𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓: KYLE EDIT ( 4 / ∞ )

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𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐏𝐏𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓: HAN EDIT ( 1 / ∞ )

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𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐏𝐏𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓: DARIO EDIT ( 2 / ∞ )

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𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐏𝐏𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓: SKEETER EDIT ( 4 / ∞ )

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"well, i mean...." he gives it a millisecond of a thought, or perhaps a fraction of a millisecond, before agreeing. "wouldn't you be scared too?" he takes it that before him was hardened individual who'd learned to navigate the world embracing fear and challenging those who gave him shit for it. and then he wonders if there is a chance that he could be falling into the cowardly lion way about this. "say you find a person you really, really like, and you think they're pretty much meant for you ⸺in a curvy edged jigsaw puzzle piece fitting type of way. wouldn't you be scared to give that all up? especially if you're not sure they feel the same way?" it's the rejection, he realizes that he's scared of. "if i have him as a friend, that's enough right? i shouldn't be greedy." that's what he's been telling himself, that having ren at all in his life is better than nothing.

realizing that he's brought up Chris, he chews on his bottom lip. "he's... he's, well yeah," kyle didn't know if he could keep the lie going for forever. "he's, I guess, our little guy. he's a smart kid, but he got lost on his own in the bunkers, but I took him in and now ren's been helping me raise him." it was the closest thing he'd felt to family in a long time. "i think watching him with chris has only made me like crush on him harder."

Somehow, Kyle's confession isn't surprising. Those who favor a more vanilla lifestyle are often slow to meet their milestones - and if all that awaits is marriage and missionary, Seth would take his time getting there, too - but still, he doesn't think that's this kid's problem. "So you're scared," he figures with a crooked smile, speaking plainly in comparison to Kyle's hushed confessions and ellipses. "I get it. When you're young and you got the whole world ahead of you, waiting seems like a good plan. You don't know any better, huh?" He winks.

"So, Chris. What's that, y'all got a dog or something?" Seth's expression becomes creased with disbelief, as if Kyle is attempting to pull his leg. "C'mon, don't tell me you have a kid together."