08-03-2018, 02:34 PM
[align=center][div style="borderwidth=0px; width: 55%; line-height:115%; text-align: justify;font-family: calibri;"]// omfg I’m glad it didn’t that’s the worse thing to happen to anyone who writes,, this is why I write exclusively in google docs
There was a time where Des had been far different than he was now. The cheer was, in all honesty, a rather new addition to his life that he was only now getting used to giving. There was a big difference in being a grumpy bastard and being numb, however. Perhaps he did not know of Gabriel’s past, but he knew of his own, and compared to most people he knew… his often seemed far worse. He had been cold, once, mercilessly so in a way that made every passing second torture. It wasn’t a wrong assumption on Gabriel’s part, then, that he seemed far more used to breaking bones than mending them. He was. But he was trying to make as big of a come around as he could. That part was a secret as well, though. As far as everyone was concerned, he had always been like this, and the scars that marred his body… well, most of the time they weren’t discussed to begin with. Others could only speculate why he had them.
He had killed many under the spell of emptiness, trying to get himself to feel anything other than the anger. He had succeeded, although it had worked against him in the end. What he was expecting was power, maybe some sort of great epiphany that would free him from his fate; all he got was trauma and guilt, and the newly blossomed need to right whatever wrongs he could.
So even if he did now of Gabe’s reputation, he doubted that claims of him being a miracle worker would do much to his head. He didn’t believe himself to be special, and perhaps that was the one thing he sorely needed.
A short bark of a laugh left his maw at Gabriel’s observation, though he didn’t respond with anything more than an indifferent shrug. It was both - diverse tastes and grabbing anything that happened to fall underneath his paws. ”If I do, then I’ll know who did it, and then your head’s on the line,” he mused, although the threat had little bite to it. He’d be sorely disappointed, but not enough to do much more than give Gabriel the silent treatment for the next day or so.
”Nah, guess you haven’t, though I have to wonder if that’s telling of your resilience or the fact that my talking game is getting weak,” after Gabriel picked the bottle and managed to uncork it easily (he never thought that the beak would come useful, and yet here he was being proven wrong) Des didn’t waste any time returning to his supplies, opening yet another cabinet to fish out two glasses and place them down, beckoning for him to help himself.
”Hey, Vodka works just fine,” Des responded at Gabriel’s stare, which earned him another rumble in Des’ throat. ”I know from experience, as I know not to be picky,” sometimes you didn’t have things like these on hand, a problem he had lived with a majority of his life. Thankfully, a bottle of alcohol was almost always somewhere in his hand, and it made for one hell of a disinfectant. Made you smell like a drunkard, but it got the job done.
”Well, unless you want me to get all up in your business as you wash down, I think I’m good,” he hummed, but didn’t make do on his promise and turned away to give the man as much privacy as he could while pawing through the supplies once more, mentally going through a checklist and the steps needed to get the wing… on the path to better. He didn’t expect for Gabriel to say anything more unless it was a statement that he was done, so the next comment visibly caught the canine off-guard, his movements tensing up.
He doubted that the statement was meant to hit a nerve, as their conversation had yet to take a darker turn and was quite pleasant among others he’d had in his lifetime. But it did, and his smile briefly resembled a grimace, lasting scarcely a second and easy to miss if Gabriel wasn’t looking. Des hoped he wasn’t. With a steadying breath, he turned around, the grin easy on his maw and deflecting any kind of questions preemptively, and he walked over to where the hybrid was, ready to get to work.
”Yeah, well… I like having things on hand so I don’t gotta go fetch them from other people at the most inconvenient of times,” it was part of the truth, but the biggest reason was left out of the grand picture. There were things he wasn’t comfortable with sharing, and the small hoarding problem he had picked up between his time alone and now was one of them. Once upon a time he had nothing, wandering around with nothing but whatever he could fit on his back… now that he could have his own things, he was keen on making use of that to the fullest extent.
”Alright, you ready? It’s probably going to hurt like a bitch, I won’t lie to you.”
There was a time where Des had been far different than he was now. The cheer was, in all honesty, a rather new addition to his life that he was only now getting used to giving. There was a big difference in being a grumpy bastard and being numb, however. Perhaps he did not know of Gabriel’s past, but he knew of his own, and compared to most people he knew… his often seemed far worse. He had been cold, once, mercilessly so in a way that made every passing second torture. It wasn’t a wrong assumption on Gabriel’s part, then, that he seemed far more used to breaking bones than mending them. He was. But he was trying to make as big of a come around as he could. That part was a secret as well, though. As far as everyone was concerned, he had always been like this, and the scars that marred his body… well, most of the time they weren’t discussed to begin with. Others could only speculate why he had them.
He had killed many under the spell of emptiness, trying to get himself to feel anything other than the anger. He had succeeded, although it had worked against him in the end. What he was expecting was power, maybe some sort of great epiphany that would free him from his fate; all he got was trauma and guilt, and the newly blossomed need to right whatever wrongs he could.
So even if he did now of Gabe’s reputation, he doubted that claims of him being a miracle worker would do much to his head. He didn’t believe himself to be special, and perhaps that was the one thing he sorely needed.
A short bark of a laugh left his maw at Gabriel’s observation, though he didn’t respond with anything more than an indifferent shrug. It was both - diverse tastes and grabbing anything that happened to fall underneath his paws. ”If I do, then I’ll know who did it, and then your head’s on the line,” he mused, although the threat had little bite to it. He’d be sorely disappointed, but not enough to do much more than give Gabriel the silent treatment for the next day or so.
”Nah, guess you haven’t, though I have to wonder if that’s telling of your resilience or the fact that my talking game is getting weak,” after Gabriel picked the bottle and managed to uncork it easily (he never thought that the beak would come useful, and yet here he was being proven wrong) Des didn’t waste any time returning to his supplies, opening yet another cabinet to fish out two glasses and place them down, beckoning for him to help himself.
”Hey, Vodka works just fine,” Des responded at Gabriel’s stare, which earned him another rumble in Des’ throat. ”I know from experience, as I know not to be picky,” sometimes you didn’t have things like these on hand, a problem he had lived with a majority of his life. Thankfully, a bottle of alcohol was almost always somewhere in his hand, and it made for one hell of a disinfectant. Made you smell like a drunkard, but it got the job done.
”Well, unless you want me to get all up in your business as you wash down, I think I’m good,” he hummed, but didn’t make do on his promise and turned away to give the man as much privacy as he could while pawing through the supplies once more, mentally going through a checklist and the steps needed to get the wing… on the path to better. He didn’t expect for Gabriel to say anything more unless it was a statement that he was done, so the next comment visibly caught the canine off-guard, his movements tensing up.
He doubted that the statement was meant to hit a nerve, as their conversation had yet to take a darker turn and was quite pleasant among others he’d had in his lifetime. But it did, and his smile briefly resembled a grimace, lasting scarcely a second and easy to miss if Gabriel wasn’t looking. Des hoped he wasn’t. With a steadying breath, he turned around, the grin easy on his maw and deflecting any kind of questions preemptively, and he walked over to where the hybrid was, ready to get to work.
”Yeah, well… I like having things on hand so I don’t gotta go fetch them from other people at the most inconvenient of times,” it was part of the truth, but the biggest reason was left out of the grand picture. There were things he wasn’t comfortable with sharing, and the small hoarding problem he had picked up between his time alone and now was one of them. Once upon a time he had nothing, wandering around with nothing but whatever he could fit on his back… now that he could have his own things, he was keen on making use of that to the fullest extent.
”Alright, you ready? It’s probably going to hurt like a bitch, I won’t lie to you.”
♔ — I want brimstone in my garden