Dylas (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sullenstallion) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
melodiesofeternity2018-06-08 05:06 pm
sullenstallion) wrote in melodiesofeternity2018-06-08 05:06 pm
Entry tags:
arm to the teeth [OPEN]
Who: Dylas and you!
When: After the new arrivals.
Where: A storage room in the Curti Center, laterwalking slithering to his home in the housing district.
What: Dylas receives a wonderful regain that earns him a few stares. Not entirely sure what's wrapped so tightly in the canvas, he decides to unroll it before heading home...
Warnings/Notes: Mentions of cannibalism, mostly played for humor.
i. can I give you a hand?
What’s their problem?
[Dylas asks the question aloud and at no one in particular as he makes his exit from the Biggs and Wedge. As if getting called out there wasn’t annoying enough—he’s been trying to keep a low profile for a number of good reasons. But those two assholes? They wouldn’t even look at him. Dylas calls himself a monster, but being stared at like one from people who have probably seen all kinds of weird shit is more annoying than hurtful. And all because of this parcel.
He looks down at where it’s tucked under his arm. Something from his home word, apparently, that’s what he’s carrying. But it’s long, lumpy. He can’t remember owning anything shaped like this back in his apartment. In fact, in Ryslig, he hadn’t owned many things at all aside from fishing equipment. This...it’s too short for a fishing rod. And with the canvas, he can’t smell it.
...well, it can’t be that bad.
And it isn’t bad until he’s stepped into what he thinks is an empty, seldom-used store room and sets the parcel down on a small table. He wastes no time in unwrapping it and, lo and behold, there’s a human arm staring back up at him. It’s still wearing its watch. Cute. Dylas stares down at it with a sigh, torn between relief, horror, confusion, and exasperation...when he hears the door opening. But it’s too late. He’s like a deer in the headlights, eyes wide and mouth hanging open as the door slowly swings open.
How is he going to explain this?]
——Don't look!!! I'm, uh, changing!
ii. just another normal day
[So, maybe he understands why Biggs and Wedge didn’t make eye contact with him now. Maybe. Maybe he’s also surprised he made it out of there without any authorities being alerted, because what the hell. He’s heard about these things, these objects from other people’s home worlds. He never thought he’d get one. And now that he has one, he doesn’t want it. Throwing it away would also be problematic.
Dylas manages to make it to the housing district without any further unraveling incidents, but when your morning starts with someone sending you an arm, your luck isn’t bound to get much better. He’s slithering fast, his massive weight taking corners without pausing. One moment, a passerby could be minding their own business, and the very next there’s a giant snake-man clutching a package crashing or near-crashing into them.
Sometimes, Dylas is nicer, but today is not the day for that.]
Are you trying to eat sidewalk, or do you just have your head up your ass?
[He’s agitated enough by the encounter for his fangs to be showing, but maybe he’ll calm down. Maybe. Once he stops glaring and feels less tense about this whole ordeal.]
When: After the new arrivals.
Where: A storage room in the Curti Center, later
What: Dylas receives a wonderful regain that earns him a few stares. Not entirely sure what's wrapped so tightly in the canvas, he decides to unroll it before heading home...
Warnings/Notes: Mentions of cannibalism, mostly played for humor.
i. can I give you a hand?
What’s their problem?
[Dylas asks the question aloud and at no one in particular as he makes his exit from the Biggs and Wedge. As if getting called out there wasn’t annoying enough—he’s been trying to keep a low profile for a number of good reasons. But those two assholes? They wouldn’t even look at him. Dylas calls himself a monster, but being stared at like one from people who have probably seen all kinds of weird shit is more annoying than hurtful. And all because of this parcel.
He looks down at where it’s tucked under his arm. Something from his home word, apparently, that’s what he’s carrying. But it’s long, lumpy. He can’t remember owning anything shaped like this back in his apartment. In fact, in Ryslig, he hadn’t owned many things at all aside from fishing equipment. This...it’s too short for a fishing rod. And with the canvas, he can’t smell it.
...well, it can’t be that bad.
And it isn’t bad until he’s stepped into what he thinks is an empty, seldom-used store room and sets the parcel down on a small table. He wastes no time in unwrapping it and, lo and behold, there’s a human arm staring back up at him. It’s still wearing its watch. Cute. Dylas stares down at it with a sigh, torn between relief, horror, confusion, and exasperation...when he hears the door opening. But it’s too late. He’s like a deer in the headlights, eyes wide and mouth hanging open as the door slowly swings open.
How is he going to explain this?]
——Don't look!!! I'm, uh, changing!
ii. just another normal day
[So, maybe he understands why Biggs and Wedge didn’t make eye contact with him now. Maybe. Maybe he’s also surprised he made it out of there without any authorities being alerted, because what the hell. He’s heard about these things, these objects from other people’s home worlds. He never thought he’d get one. And now that he has one, he doesn’t want it. Throwing it away would also be problematic.
Dylas manages to make it to the housing district without any further unraveling incidents, but when your morning starts with someone sending you an arm, your luck isn’t bound to get much better. He’s slithering fast, his massive weight taking corners without pausing. One moment, a passerby could be minding their own business, and the very next there’s a giant snake-man clutching a package crashing or near-crashing into them.
Sometimes, Dylas is nicer, but today is not the day for that.]
Are you trying to eat sidewalk, or do you just have your head up your ass?
[He’s agitated enough by the encounter for his fangs to be showing, but maybe he’ll calm down. Maybe. Once he stops glaring and feels less tense about this whole ordeal.]
no subject
[He started off vaguely defensive but he kinda petered out at the end there....he takes another little bite of the finger instead.]
What about you? Have you been having fun out there?
no subject
Okay, he is going to say something about it.]
Hunk is a lot to put up with sometimes.
[But he shakes his friends. Does he have any? No. Does he want any?
...]
I went fishing again yesterday. The waters here are pretty different. That's fun enough for me.
no subject
He tilts his head anyway, though.]
You like fishing? Are the fish tasty? Maybe if you catch a really nice fish we can get Hunk to cook it!
[as if Dylas can't]
no subject
[Dylas immediately pouts. Why are they still talking about Hunk? Why does Yue jump straight to having someone else cook when he's already a gourmand himself? So is Hunk, sure, but.]
Why can't I cook it? Why does he get too cook it?
no subject
[He's never tried Hunk's fish, so there is literally no way to compare.]
no subject
[Is he okay?]