Open prompts for open people

[injectablefame]

Party Poison
Kobra Kid

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Party Poison

[injectablefame]

[ghoulaid]

( the incident that Ghoul mentally refers to as The Damned Dusting had mostly been a success. the ambush went okay and at least some of the powder had ended up on Party, so it was like a miracle in motion. Ghoul wasn't sure how well the stuff would work; it was old, but hell, it was either harmless weird-smelling white dust or it had evolved into a superpoison. only time would tell whether or not it made a dent in Party's flea population.

waiting for the fallout, though, was the worst part. Ghoul made it a point to keep himself scarce, but after about two days of dodging whatever repercussions Party might have in store for him, he'd started feeling the lack of sleep. not only was it annoying as shit, he knew it was also dangerous. he needed to be able to nap without fear of pain or death before he ended up face-first in a half-made bomb, or on the wrong end of a gun.

so he'd come up with a lame, sleep-deprived plan.

he waited until Party was seated in one of the diner's booths before slinking his way up. carefully, quietly. then he silently slid onto the bench next to him, laying on his side across it, resting his head in Party's lap beneath the table and drawing his knees up to fit all nice and compact in the seat. it was a weird, olive-branch sort of gesture that he figured might-maybe get him out of trouble. cutesy shit like that usually worked on Jet, anyway.

and for good reason. who could stay mad at that? )

[injectablefame]

[ Party's a lot more aware than anyone gives him credit for, but he lets Ghoul act all sneaky, anyway, rolling his eyes at his stolen magazine. Sometimes it's more fun to let someone worry about your revenge than to actually carry out anything. Dumb motherfucker's been skittering around Party like a cockroach and some sadistic part of Party's brain thinks that that's just fine with him.

He flips a page, barely looking down at Ghoul. After a moment he lets out a breath, closing the magazine and placing it on the table. Wordlessly, he snakes a hand down to Ghoul's hair and takes a tight grip, twisting his hand. ]

Lookin' awfully fuckin' guilty, sunshine.

[ He tugs harder. ]

[ghoulaid]

Me? ( nonsense. complete and utter nonsense. Ghoul ends up having the gall to sound surprised at the accusation, like a guy can't flop around and look pitiful anymore without having an ulterior motive.

the hand wrenching around in his hair is... tolerable, so he makes no move against it- he probably deserves it, fine, he'll accept that if it'll make Party feel better. but it continues pulling, and harder at that, and that's what eventually has him flinching beneath the table with a quiet grunt of protest. ) C'mon, fuck off. ( he turns his face downwards a bit, burrowing further in to Party's leg as if that'll help him relieve the pressure against his scalp.

in order to make his stance of fuckin' damn let go extra-clear, though, he makes sure to sink his teeth in to the topside of Party's thigh, a few inches above his knee.

may not be all that effective, though, because Kobra was right. Ghoul doesn't bite as hard as Party does. )

[injectablefame]

[ Party probably should have expected something like this, but he tends to act without really thinking things through, so the bite manages to surprise him.

He lets go with a yelp and smacks Ghoul's shoulder hard. ]

Gonna be sleepin' with one eye open for a month at this rate.

[ Difficult as it would be, he's got half a mind to just stand up forcibly and dump Ghoul on the floor. ]

[ghoulaid]

( he can't help grinning after prying his teeth loose again, and even goes so far as to wriggle an arm up, swatting at Party's hand from beneath the edge of the table. it's a terrible position; his arm's folded all at the wrong angle and he's got no range like this, so all his effort ends up looking like is a useless handflap. ) Don't get all pissy, it wasn't even bad. ( it's unclear whether he's talking about the bite or being pinned down and scrubbed over with flea dust... )

You still itchin'?

[ghoulaid]

Ghoul likes to present himself as a total hardass, at the very least, but sometimes...

Sometimes, things refuse to work out for him. Case in point, his current supply run with Party. It's nothing special. Just a small, mundane swap meet at a dilapidated gas station that deals more dust than fuel at this point. They've found diamonds in the rough before, so it's worth a peek- and this is one of the few stations with a BLi-brand vending machine out back. Those are always handy. Kobra hadn't come along on this particular trip, but, fuck. Ghoul's seen him raid the things plenty of times.

Convinced that he had everything under control, he'd waved Party inside and gotten to work.

With there being no witnesses, there's no telling how, exactly, he's ended up knelt in the dirt in front of the machine with his arm literally inside of it, but one thing's embarrassingly clear after a moment of observation.

He's stuck. And properly ashamed.

By the time he hears footsteps approaching, he's in a pose of utter defeat. Trapped arm awkwardly jammed up inside the dispenser, shoulders slumped, forehead pressed sadly against the front display panel of the machine. It's a pathetic sight, he knows, and he doesn't want to hear about it. His free hand quickly raises, held in an unmistakable stop signal. "Don't say a fuckin' word. Just fix it."

[injectablefame]

These swaps are the kind of gamble they need out here. Most of them turn up very little, but Party knows what to look for and it's always worth the look, even if it takes them gas to get to them and this one's a little closer to the city than he really likes to get.

This meet in particular is a wash. He picks up a few little things, but there's really nothing special. He tosses everything in the trunk and comes around back to find Ghoul.

Instead of words, he uses his eyebrows to express what a monumentally stupid thing it is that he's currently witnessing.

Then he kicks Ghoul's foot and tilts his head to the side. He's really not going to make this no words thing work out in Ghoul's favor.

[ghoulaid]

He sighs, long and slow, letting his arm drop lifelessly back down to his side. He doesn't even want to look at Party, honestly. He can feel the judgement being shot his way. All Ghoul wants to do is close his eyes and keep his head pressed against the machine's paneling, looking much like a sulking kid in a particularly bad time out.

He avoids acknowledging Party any further for a while, either steeling himself for the upcoming shitstorm or wondering how much bribery this is going to take to keep it all hush-hush, but he does eventually peel his face away from the plastic and turn to look at him once and for all.

...And, yep, that's pretty much the expression Ghoul imagined would be on his face. He crinkles up his nose. "Shut up." The words don't even have to come out of Party's mouth. That look says it all. "It's complicated."

[injectablefame]

With a snort, Party kneels down in the dirt and starts to jostle Ghoul's arm. Someone else might be gentle, but Party's version of gentle involves at least a few harsh pulls. Truthfully, Party only half remembers how to be gentle with anyone anymore.

"It ain't complicated and you don't gotta make excuses. I'm sure you and this vending machine'll be real happy together. Mozel tov, motherfucker."

As he tries to inspect the machine, he winds up half on top of Ghoul without much care for personal space. It's almost like Ghoul and the vending machine are just one big item he needs to fix. He's straddling Ghoul's thighs and jostling him with his shoulder in his haste to move his fingers along Ghoul's arm where it disappears into the machine.

[ghoulaid]

"It is complicated... It happened fast," he grumbles under his breath.

Ghoul glowers, first up at Party and then down where his arm disappears in to the mouth of the beast. "No. I hate this piece of shit, I want a divorce." But not if that divorce means having his shoulder yanked out of socket. After a couple of solid tugs, Ghoul is beginning to suspect amputation is Party's goal.

Or maybe crawling up in to the machine himself is the goal. It's hard to tell what he's going for with that weird as fuck position. "What're you even- ow?!" Things are getting kind of cramped, both in Ghoul's lap and inside the machine's chute. Something bends not quite in the right way as he attempts to scoot out of the way for Party, which is entirely his own fault, but he takes out his frustration by slugging Party in the leg with his free hand and dumping the blame on him anyway. "Yank on somethin' one more time! And get out of there before you get fuckin' stuck too!"

Kobra Kid

[goodluckkobra]

what are they texting on? ~~it is a mystery. sit down, you're not here to ask questions.

[ghoulaid]

i got a job for you

they're writing notes on each other in their sleep obvs

[goodluckkobra]

is it the kinda job that's gonna be fun or the kind that's gonna piss me off? or is it a blow job?

wow neither of them are responsible enough to trust with markers around sleeping skin

[ghoulaid]

the fuck outta here. you haven't done anything to earn one of those

listen. you need to hold down your shitty brother, so what do you want? arms or legs? i'm giving you first pick because i like you

everyone wakes up with sharpie dicks on their faces and no water to wash them off

[goodluckkobra]

I'm takin the legs. he's gonna bite uuuuu 8D

HELL ON EARTH. are we sure they're adults?

[ghoulaid]

nahhhh since you picked legs jet's getting the teeth-end. you both better be on top of your game cause this is important. we're doing it tonight

[ghoulaid]

He took some pill and now he's on all fours demanding we give him chips from the dog bowl. Come get him.

[goodluckkobra]

can't you just let him eat outta the dog bowl? I'm busy

[ghoulaid]

Ok 1, that's brutal even for you. and 2, busy doing WHAT? what could possibly be more important than seeing this in real life?

[goodluckkobra]

about to get lucky with twins. not like he won't eat outta a dog bowl again some time.

Bootay Bootay Bootay

[sidecars]

[ Who the hell is calling him during third shift? What kind of terrible, no good bastard thinks this is okay? With a muffled curse into his pillow he pulls his hand from below it to check the contact.

Of course. ]

This better be important... [ Half of the words barely make it over the fluff of his pillow as his head sags back into the mattress. ]

[goodluckkobra]

Bet my bed's warmer than yours and there's room for you.

[ His voice is warm and amused and at least a little more awake, but he sounds a little sleepy, himself. ]

[sidecars]

Pfff, well, my bed's already nice and comfy. I've got my body groove all carved out...

[ Yeah, you're going to have to work harder than that, noodle. ]

[goodluckkobra]

[ Kobra makes a soft noise in his throat, almost a moan but not quite. ]

But my bed has me and I'm all warm, too. I could be real comfortable.