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Post by avisis on Oct 2, 2011 22:51:19 GMT -5
Puddi has a morning call like a dove. It's short, sweet, repetitive, and once you've heard it enough times it puts you to sleep more than waking you up. She's warned him about that. He gives her his smirk and ignores her.
It's all right, though; Honey wakes up scrabbling the minute something (anything) catches his ears right, and Glam Tag would be a pain to wake up if you were trying with pots and pans, so who's she to complain. So they have a peaceful little morning routine. That's great.
She misses it, a little, when today starts not with Puddi's comforting little sounds but Glam Tag's hands shaking her awake, and Honey Badger bouncing, nervous, on the balls of his feet. She snorts out of sleep. "Hwhat?"
"Listen," says Glam Tag, glancing awkwardly over his shoulder. "Listen, I think---I'm pretty sure some lot just hit Puddi with a truck."
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Post by Conway on Oct 2, 2011 23:21:25 GMT -5
HoneyBadger's clutching his helmet to his chest, looking anxiously from Coral to the door. She'll fix things right? Puddi usually fixes things but Puddi's kind of...
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Post by avisis on Oct 2, 2011 23:28:53 GMT -5
Puddi's kind of a mess. She's up, stumbling to him---she can't make out who's in the truck, with sleep-fuzzy eyes, so she's just throwing her arms out wide and using a few non-specific, inoffensively vague insults in the general direction of the cab while she moves for him.
He's breathing---more than, he's wheezing painfully---he's gripping her shoulder as she hovers assessing hands over him. Okay. This will be okay. He's wincing, but nothing seems crushed. "Christ. Good morning."
"Good morning," he grins, pained.
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Post by Conway on Oct 2, 2011 23:46:47 GMT -5
Badger slammed his helmet back over his head to follow her out, hissing and grumbling things at the truck but staying near Puddi. If someone would just tell him him to attack them...he'd like to, maybe he will anyway. It would be worth getting in trouble over. "Coral?"
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Post by avisis on Oct 3, 2011 0:05:42 GMT -5
"Flank him," she says evenly. Better to give Honey orders and have him moving on them than leave him to his own impatient devices. "Where's it hurt, baby?"
"Lots of places," he says, honestly, but pats her shoulder like a parent. "You can let go, doll. I'm fine. Just bruises. Look," and he lifts up his sweatshirt. Her wide eyes follow the red and yellowing blotch on his side before darting up towards the idling vehicle. "Don't bite anyone."
"That's Badger's job," she grits out, rising to stride towards the car. Her knuckles rap, no-nonsense, on the driver's window. "Oy!"
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mimzu
New Member
Posts: 16
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Post by mimzu on Oct 3, 2011 0:19:44 GMT -5
It aint nothing new, when a dust storm picks up, but it IS balls unfortunate, especially when you’re stuck losing sight of the taillights in front of you. You can’t see shit, and it’s mighty unfortunate that that was at least fourty minutes ago. No, ChopSooie can’t see shit cap’n, and his left foot is bouncing, his right foot slammed tightly on the brake pedal because—
Because—
Because jesesfuckingchristhejusthitsomebody.
What the FUCK should he be doing? Should he be climbing out? Does this bucket-of-fucking- rust have a goddamn first aid kit? Is it a drac? Should he get his GUN out should he— Oh fucking-
He reaches down, that’s no drac, and he rolls the window down (only halfway, okay only one-thirds of the way) and there’s a weakshit smile, okay fuck that, he’s trembling because—nevermind okay, he raises one hand, the other still gripping the wheel.
“H-Heh hey! Mighty find dust storm we’re having aint that ri--?”
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Post by Conway on Oct 3, 2011 0:27:54 GMT -5
Badger gives Puddi another look before moving on Coral's order, scrabbling around to flank the truck. He scopes the back of the truck but keeps watch on the passenger door. Please do try to run, that would be entertaining.
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Post by avisis on Oct 3, 2011 21:43:00 GMT -5
"Stranger," grinds out O.K. Coral, the syllables dropping as fine and dark from her teeth as coffee grounds, "You just ran over my best man."
"I'm fine," Puddi's letting the world know from his slump on the ground, but it's okay, the world can keep moving without him. He's too busy examining the impressive yellow and red map that's starting to illustrate itself over his skin.
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mimzu
New Member
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Post by mimzu on Oct 3, 2011 22:23:32 GMT -5
Stop the presses we need a rewrite, he’s going to die today.
His hand clenches the wheel tighter, shit plastic-y leather sticking to the palm of his hand, his chin retreating into his jacket collar because Coral’s eyes are hot coals about to spit into his corneas and the only save he has is Puddi’s voice hitting his ear.
“F-fine! But he’s fine!” He squeaks, the voice of a mighty killjoy. And no, there’s no fucking way he’s unlocking the door, or rolling down the window. He can see Badger’s silhouette and he clenches his teeth because he can hardly see out any window that isn’t the front—fuck he can’t see out that one anyway, he just hit a man.
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Post by Conway on Oct 3, 2011 22:33:18 GMT -5
Badger prowls around towards the front of the truck, antsy. "s'it a drak?" He know's it's not. If it was a drac, Coral would've shot it by now, and what drac would make that kind of noise?
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Post by avisis on Oct 3, 2011 22:47:31 GMT -5
"It's white as one." Coral's glances over the interior of the car, as best she can see it in the dust-dim light, are quick; they're less important than the judicious once-over she gives the car's inhabitant. She examines his hands on the wheel.
Twice her rough knuckles rap hard on the window. "Get out," she orders, and steps back to make room.
Puddi's on his feet, not needing Glam's offered hand to rise. He scowls at Honey, but makes no move to rein him in. Lettim prowl.
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mimzu
New Member
Posts: 16
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Post by mimzu on Oct 3, 2011 23:01:23 GMT -5
The car’s mostly bare, with a haphazard pile of belongings in the passenger seat. Otherwise barren. He and a crew member had driven out to bring a new truck in, and only the boiling sun knows where that fuckhead is right now. If she can see through the dust.
Chop licks his lips once, twice, grit and sand and dry and— “W-What happens if I don’t?”
Fuck. He just opened his mouth, didn’t he? His hand gripping the wheel lets loose, moving towards the passenger seat.
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Post by Conway on Oct 3, 2011 23:12:25 GMT -5
His attention was momentarily diverted to Puddi getting up, but his head snaps back to the truck, did something move? It's hard to see. He slinks back to the the side of the truck to resume watch on the passenger side.
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Post by avisis on Oct 3, 2011 23:20:35 GMT -5
Coral's voice hits the kind of loud, barking note usually reserved for calling escaped dogs. "I said get out the fuckin' car!"
It's her 'shit son you did not just' voice. If Honey were on a perpetual, retractable leash, that voice would be the sound of the lock clicking off to give him freedom to bolt as far as the cord will let him.
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mimzu
New Member
Posts: 16
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Post by mimzu on Oct 3, 2011 23:30:35 GMT -5
“Sh-SHIT.” He didn’t just jump out of his skin, but his head may or may not have bashed into the top of the fucking car. His hand is away from the passenger seat—and any means of defense—and back against the car wheel in a rough split second and he squeezes his eyes shut tight.
“We’re on the same fucking side.” He grounds out, a reminder, and he’s biting his lip before he unhooks the lock and kicks the door open, slinking out and looking like he’s waiting for the finishing blow.
The kids all skin and bones and dust and desert, from his broken-in boots to his sweat stained tank. At least a Killjoy for sure. No drac would’ve tried getting fucking animal print in his hair.
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