taxonomites | 09 | VISUAL | FLATS ABOVE DODGY JAMMER | IN THE MIDDLE OF A GUNFIGHT, IN THE CENTER OF A RESTAURANT

Party clicks on the tablet and it's not the usual place--instead it's a room. It's sparse, but in the background all of the furniture has been upturned, and the door behind him as two interesting additions: a spider logo familiar to anyone who's seen Party's car or street side graffiti, and three locks on top of the ones the place already has. Somewhere to the left among the trash and the upturned mattress there's what looks like the beginnings of another art project, something fresh, a skeletal little creature.

The redhead--he's bleached and dyed his hair back--rubs his eyes, frustrated, and gazes at the screen for a few minutes. The cornered, wild dog look is back, fiercer than ever.

"Those glitches? There has to be some sorta pattern. Some cross-eyed message from the Angels of God, some anti-matter we can throw into their master plan." Oh yes, Party's back. "But that's what I gotta explain, motorbabies. Listen up."

He tilts his head to the side. "Apparently Kobra Kid and I went all Costa Rica and started streaking with no lights home. Pumpin' up the volume isn't going to do anything but it got the attention of the Sheriff. I'm thinking that's why it happened so soon." It's a theory, but Party has many, swirling in his head. "Think of the last moment you pissed off an Extra, did a glitch occur after that? It could be some form of punishment..." He snaps his fingers, corners of his mouth twitching. Trying to act casual and not at all suspicious about this last statement, the most important one. Hoping his usual pokerface can't be read by anyone out here.

"You zonerats and diesel darlings forget whatever me and him told you. The sun is my mother the desert is ymy father and I am Party fucking Poison and I'm sung about from the hymnal of the wastes, raised with JuV Halls and Ritalin Rats and angels made from neon and fucking garbage."

There's a grim smile. "We don't even remember our real names." The same poker face. "Christened in acid rain, hear?"

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"The only place I want to run to is home. That's what every prisoner here wants. Even if you don't believe anything else I have to say, you have to believe that."

And she had a feeling that he would. He listened - genuinely listened - to what she had to say and she returned the favour. It was almost as if they'd reached an unspoken agreement.

"He's my friend. Of course I will be."

"'Course, but your friend," one in particular, "Looks and acts like someone in a bad way. circular conversation or not, motorbaby, I'm not trustin' you guys as far as I can throw you." Another pause, and Party genuinely thinks about his words.

"You I could throw. The zipper guy seems pretty light. Korse, on the other hand..."

At that, DG almost let out a snort of derisive laughter. She was a witch - a witch with a lot of power, even if a great deal of it was currently untapped - and he'd get more than he bargained for is he tried anything with her.

The rest of his words - the threat against her family - was more of a problem.

"Don't even think about hurting Glitch," she said, immediately. Her friends could take care of themselves, yes, but that wasn't the point. They didn't have to. They looked out for each other. "Or Cain."

Edited 2011-11-10 21:10 (UTC)

"Woah woah woah," Have some hands flashed infront of her, a tell-tale 'I'm unarmed!' sign. "No need to get your pistons cycling, crash queen. That was a joke. A bad joke, but.."

There's a mumble about how he should learn to stop talking in metaphors before his gaze flicks up on the screen.

"I'm just sayin'. Kobra really trusts that you're Killjoy material."

"How would you take it if someone made a joke like that about your brother?" she pointed out. Especially if the person making a joke was as unpredictable and potentially dangerous as Party Poison.

The dust settled, however, she realised that he hadn't intended it as a threat.

"Ok. I know that's a compliment. I'll ... try and live up to it."

Living up to it? Party wants to point out that the average lifespan for a killjoy is...well, they're expected to die anyday now. Instead, he stifles the thought because he's already on shakey ground. For all his preaching to Kobra, he's got to play nice. Playing...

Oh. Woah. Something's clicked, and it shows on the redhead's face.

"That bass wasn't for him. It was for you, wasn't it?"

"Yes," DG confirmed, giving him a somewhat bemused look. "He's teaching me to play. I didn't realise it was a secret."

She had been delighted (and a little surprised, of course) by the gift. It hadn't occurred to her until it was too late that Kobra might not have bothered paying for it. Not that she blamed him for her brief spell in prison. Their world was very different to every other world she knew of.

This is rich. This is rich. Something moves to Party's face and absolutely all the doubt and suspicion is gone because he looks..Amused. Genuinely amused, so much so he snorts and leans forward, putting the palm of his hand to his chin and looking a bit like a girl as he rests his elbow on his knee.

"Secrets mean a lot to us Killjoys. You play that bass with all your heart, crash queen, but Kobra's a shit teacher. He'll stay there and," He tries to do his best Kobra impersonation: pokerface, intense gaze, lack of emotion.

".......'Like this.'"

Hey, he's the older brother. He's supposed to make fun of his sibling. Especially since this news was rich.

Did siblings make fun of each other? DG didn't remember enough of her time with Azkadellia to know whether or not their relationship worked that way. All she knew was that they'd been closed and that they'd been stronger together. And that she'd got her elder sister into trouble on more than one occasion.

"He's doing find," she said, defending Kobra with a slight frown on her face. It was a good impression, but she was also working on bringing the younger killjoy out of his shell. Music animated him in a way that no other topic did.

"Hey, he's my brother. I'd die for him." Had died for him, apparently. But that didn't mean he could spot Kobra's crush from a mile away among a sandstorm.

"He's.." Party trails off, and there's sincerity in his voice next: "it takes a certain person to perk him up. Get on his radar, y'know? Friends are a weird thing for us. Family's more important, so.."

Oh, god. Party's wincing at how sappy this is.

"Check yourself with him 'for I have to check you."

"Sometimes, family and friends can be the same thing," DG pointed out, pretending that she hadn't noticed the way he'd winced in response to his own words. The killjoys weren't the sort of people to go in for public admissions of affection.

"I'm not going to hurt him. I want to be his friend. Your friend, too, if you want."

Everyone needed friends. Especially in a place like Taxon.

09 | VISUAL | FLATS ABOVE DODGY JAMMER | IN THE MIDDLE OF A GUNFIGHT, IN THE CENTER OF A RESTAURANT

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