hi :V

[thelivingend]

Fish, a short and pasty-skinned young man with a wicked case of bed-head, is currently putting on public display his ability to be somehow pointy and soft at the same time, as well as his seasonal wardrobe, which can easily be summed up by the word 'overdressed'. He's sitting on a ledge bordering a garden, the stone slabs just wide enough for his

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[dangleangle]

Jensen has the habit of approaching everybody, so skin chewing and spacing out is not at all a deterrent. He has only spoken to Fish before via text and all he knows of what the man looks like comes from a photo of his hands. He is currently wearing this shirt and approaches Fish and the cardboard with his usual good humor.

"I hope you take American money. Fresh out of Xana bux."

[thelivingend]

"I will take all of the moneys." Yes, that is exactly how he says it. Two dollars already lie in his cap, and they even happen to be American dollars, unless Brody makes a habit of carrying around non-US currency all the time. Maybe he does, we don't know.

Anyway, look, he is holding a pencil, and sticking the pen behind his ear...or, well, presumably there's an ear in there, it's sort of obscured by this crazy hair he's got going here. "What can I do for ya?"

[dangleangle]

"I was hoping for a picture of me, amigo," he says as he reaches into his wallet and withdraws a one dollar bill. "And since the theme of the day is dinos, if you could make the picture include me disco dancing with one that would be pretty sweet."

[thelivingend]

Choosing to channel his nervousness at interacting with a stranger (why is he even out here looking for attention, he's pretty shy) into mild silliness, as is his wont, Fish regards Jensen pensively for a time. The way he's squinting, it may seem as though he's wondering what the hell this guy is smoking that he has made such a preposterous request. And finally:

"That," he says, pausing to ever so smoothly slide his shades from his hair down to his nose, "is an excellent request."

Then the pen falls down.

[dangleangle]

"Oh hey there, buddy, watch out." Jensen bends down to pick up the pen. "No dinos are going to be happening that way." He grins and tosses the pen from one hand to the other and back again as he speaks before handing it back to Fish.

"Think you're up for the challenge?"

[thelivingend]

"Yeah, completely. Thanks." Hee hee, this guy called him 'buddy', and not in an asshole kind of way, either. He warms to it instantly. And you, Mr. Pen, are going into his denim chest pocket-the one with the sizeable burn hole in it. Actually, there are several burn holes in this jacket. He has a tendency to fall asleep while smoking, okay.

Anyway, it's time to pretend he's not socially anxious! Pencil at the ready, he observes his subject in preparation. Sometimes it is good to have an excuse to stare at people, man. Times such as now. "What kinda dinosaur do you want?"

[dangleangle]

"They say go big or go home, right? Gimme a T-Rex and his tiny arms doing the John Travolta. And me too, don't forget me." A drawing is as good as a photo for false posterity.

[thelivingend]

As an afterthought, because he's used to having to do it, Fish pushes the shades back up into his hair. This means he's going to be squinting a lot, but he's used to that too. BEHOLD HIS LIMPID, MOOD-RING PURPLE EYES- no they're just brown...ish green. Browngreen. Greenbrown. Some colour in there.

"Is the T. rex wearing flares? ...That's the best question I've ever asked." He leads a charmed life.

[dangleangle]

Jensen looks at Fish with mock outrage, how dare he even ask something so silly?

"Of course he's rocking the flares. No self respecting disco-er doesn't wear that stuff. Which means that I think you should draw me with flares too. A leisure suit without a shirt, just this bigass medallion instead."