The world should have ended right then and there

Entry tags:

{dark mousy}

The world should have ended right then and there

Who: Dark Mousy
When: During and after the TMI flood
Where: On Deck
Warning(s): none

Dark had a comfortable place to sleep now, and sometimes just to sit, but he still liked the relatively fresh air of the open deck. He would spend his time in the Enclosure if he had more patience, but he liked to sit and think when he wanted to sit and think, not sit and wait for somebody to open a door for him.

And so he could be found sitting on the roof of the warden-only areas, legs dangling over the edge as he watched the stars go by. His black wings blended into the sky behind him, stretching and luxuriating in the wide open space. He wasn't hardly hiding and certainly didn't mind being stared at, but perhaps today he wouldn't mind having someone to talk to, either.

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Scott wasn't looking for Dark, per se, though he was carrying the idea around in his head that he needed to post something on the network soon. The name he'd recognize (or will) but the face is a complete unknown.

What actually has him looking up for longer than a second or two are the wings. They're different, but he's had some largely positive experiences with people with wings and people who don't look cookie-cutter human, anyway.

"Nice perch."

Dark glances down at the man, looking very bored and above it all.

"Beats a bench for stargazing," he agrees grudgingly. The deck isn't the most private place to hang out, but he certainly doesn't have to worry about being ambushed up on the roof.

He squints down at the man, noting the glasses.

"Scott, isn't it?"

Glasses that are, if the light is just right (or low enough) have a glow coming from behind them. "It's Scott. Who are you?" He should know, probably, given that the guy has wings, but nope.

He grins and rises to his feet. A step is all it takes to get off the roof, and his wings slow the decent a little.

"I'm your inmate. Dark. And yes, that is my real name."

Scott steps back so Dark has enough space to land - he doesn't know what kind of flexibility those wings have, or even a clear idea of his wing span. It's just a matter of playing it safe.

"It's a pleasure, Dark. I've been meaning to send you a message. This is easier." And, because it's obvious. "Nice wings."

The name thing - well, he's been around enough Codenames that even if it's literal. It's not really an issue for him.

His wingspan is pretty big, but most of his flying is more magical than mechanical. He doesn't even need to extend his wings all the way to affect a glide. They fold up into nothing, simply disappearing into his back. He shoves his hands in his pockets.

"Thanks. Nice specs." But getting to the point of the matter- "How are you with getting new furniture?"

"I've managed to avoid asking the Admiral for anything so far. I can probably manage to get some furniture. What do you need?"

What he isn't asking is 'what are you'. Because there's no way to ask that question without being an asshole. And he doesn't much find it important at the moment.

"And thanks."

"I got a list. But if you only get one, water bed's at the top of it." The hint of a sneer leaves his expression, replaced by hope. He might actually get his water bed! Finally!

Well, that's not an answer he was expecting. He inclines his head a bit and just gives up and asks outright. "Why a water bed?"

"'Cause it's freaking awesome! That Kevin kid has one and he let me try it out." Dark is actually genuinely excited about this, because he is a sheltered middle schooler. "I'd steal his, but it's not worth the trouble to clean."

"One of my friends had a set of wings. Listening to him gripe about wings being in the way's good enough for me. I'll get that request in, and I'm not even going to ask why Kevin's bed needs cleaned." He does not want to know. At all. Ever.

Best not to ask that sort of question, especially not of someone with a dirty mind.

"Now that's a bias I like. Your friend human?"

Unlike Scott, Dark feels no need to be polite to dudes.

That is the reason he's not asking. There are openings he's smart enough not to give.

"No. Mutant."

Mutant, he's heard that word before, hasn't he?

Oh well, it's not really important, is it?

"Everybody's something, seems like. Haven't had this much people trouble in three hundred years."

"Calling them all people probably resolves the issue."

"Hey, it's not my fault some guys can't handle being called 'pretty'."

Scott could not have been more bewildered, and it showed even with the glasses. "...What?"

Dark shrugs, like it's not a big deal.

"Guy attacked me 'cause I called him pretty. Definitely not human reflexes."

He knows about human reflexes.

He gets tackled a lot.

"Which guy?"

Yeah, to hell with human reflexes or not human reflexes or pretty. This is a thing he's concerned about. Possibly because it makes more sense.

Though if this winds up being Todd, he's going to be torn between laughing, crying, and drinking.

"Name's Alec."

So, as Scott can obviously tell for himself, he was very pretty.

Eh. Probably prettier than Todd, but not really his type. On the other hand, he's way more surprised Alec responded that way.

"How long ago did this happen?"

"About a week ago?"

During the TMI flood, naturally.

"It's not a big deal or anything."

"With that timing it makes more sense."

Enough for him to let it go, even.

"I'll look into the waterbed."

Now he grins. At long last, new furniture.

"Thanks man."

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The world should have ended right then and there

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