#bluedprints: dot.

[choicescreen]

@bluedprints

"i’m afraid you've caught me brooding."

[guttersniper]

@bluedprints

mutt's lips thin. he's working with an ancient in-ground spigot, waiting for it to spit out water. he looks over the slope of his shoulder, watching her approach.

"i trust scotty 'n wayne—goddammit." the shock of the icy water sends him to sucking on his fingers to pull some warmth back into them. with a cough, jets of boiling water finally streamed out. "i trust they got home safe. saw 'em yesterday. right as the snow moved in."

[guttersniper]

taking an in-breath, like ripping off the bandaid, mutt sticks his head underneath the faucet. water as hot as this hurts in a completely different way than cold would, but he does not wince away. his hands scrape through his hair, paying little heed to tangles that try to stop his fingers from their work. he tears through them, determined to at least feel halfway clean.

he cups some in his palms, and splashes one, two, three handfuls to his face. the fourth, he holds to his mouth and drinks.

"train." freighthopping. no ticket required. his sleeve wipes across his mouth and chin. "about a week and a half ago."

the handle squeaks, rusty, as he turns the water off. it'll do—real baths are few and far between. twisting the rag of excess water, he speedily rub dries hair.

"why?"

"used to make me worried, when it'd stick like that into the day."

she feels like a little girl describing a big dream. in reality he's only a couple of years older than scotty, and maybe that's the ache: only a couple of years younger than nadine.

"you came in on the train? or did someone drive you?"

[choicescreen]

the corner of gilda's mouth crooks into a complicit half-smile.

"between you and me, i'm not sure if that excuse was for my sake or theirs."

"only if you don't tell any of mine."

[guttersniper]

mutt reaches down through his collars to rub under his arms with an old rag until it feels raw. he then swipes it back and forth across his neck.

as he continues to scrub what he can without compromising himself, "mm. big as a silver dollar." he's been listening to how the people talk around here.

like watching him at work reminds her of something, "i keep tellin' that child to wear her winter gloves."

her coat makes her look like someone is hoisting her up by the shoulders. "did you see that full moon this morning? that was somethin'."

[choicescreen]

her smile leans a little towards satisfied.

"well, if you don't go and tell any of my folks..."

"oh, but that's great fun. are we holding grudges, too?"