Dreary drizzle. This island, sadly, did not hold to such a concept. When it rained, it poured.
Guy had been running. The clothes box had given him a pair of very decent running shoes (they had air in them) and they were comfortable even on the uneven soil of the land. It had been a pleasant jog until the skies tore open.
From that moment on he had been running for shelter only.
He reached the compound - soaking. "A little warning, next time, might be nice," he commented.
"You're no better, ducky," Guy said as he held on to the wall to take off his soaking wet shoes. "Light me a cigarette, go on," he asked, in a slightly whiny voice.
For a boy who had nothing and who had every right to be selfish, Dodge was incredibly generous with a few things. Cigarettes were one. He didn't bat an eye as he pulled out a new cigarette and lit it with the burning ember of his own and then passed it to Guy.
"I'm not expert but I'm pretty sure smoking after a run kind of defeats the purpose," he teased.
The snares need to be checked, rain or not. If game sits out in the rain for too long, it ruins, and Gale can't live with waste like that, not when he remembers being hungry. So he's got a game-bag slung across his shoulder and his wet hair smoothed back from his face as he walks up towards the compound.
"You got caught, too, huh?" Dodge asked, smoke spilling from his mouth as he spoke. He put the cigarette to his lips again immediately and took another drag. "Sucks, man. It's like shit here is never totally dry."
"Things that needed to be done." He's never smoked, but he could see the appeal. He leaned against the wall instead, his bag to his back, protected from the damp.
"I grew up somewhere so hot that it's a pleasant change."
Dodge ran his tongue along his lower lip as he studied the guy. It was funny how fast he'd gotten used to never feeling that prickling of the hairs on the back of his neck telling him that a john was dangerous. Maybe because he didn't have to hustle, but he was more certain that it just had to do with no one really being a threat to him.
"Hot, huh? Like a desert or something?" he asked, wondering what kind of place could be hotter than here.
Lily had been inside luckily -- not that she would have minded getting caught in the rain all that much -- and when she pulled open the door and found Dodge standing there, soaking wet, she couldn't help but grin. "Looks like someone got caught in the storm," she said, looking him up and down before she leaned back against the wall comfortably.
Not that he looked particularly upset either. She figured if he was, he would have run inside to get dry instead of stopping for a smoke by the doors.
"I didn't mean to. I thought I'd make it back here. But, uh, I didn't," he chuckled. Saturated as it was, that could have gone unsaid. "You come out to smoke?" he continued, digging into his pocket for the beat up box he kept his smokes in.
"No, I just came out. But if you have one to spare, I wouldn't say no," Lily replied with a grin, her fingers drumming against the wall behind her. "Aren't you uncomfortable, though?" She'd jumped into a pool or two in her time while fully clothed -- it had once even been the ocean -- but she hadn't been able to stay in those wet clothes for very long after getting out.
"I always have one to spare for you," he said, trying to be charming and failing. He just kind of sounded practical. He lit hers off the end of his own and then passed it to her.
"I'm starting to get itchy, but I can handle it. I don't want to drip all over the floor when I do go inside," he explained. "Plus I know it's going to be cold. That air con and these wet clothes? I'll freeze my balls off before I get some dry clothes."
"Yeah, I'll get some. I'm not gonna catch pneumonia or anything. I've got time to smoke one," he said casually. She looked kind of pissed off and Dodge knew better than to be a fucker to someone who was mad. That was just like asking to get hit.
After nearly five fuckin' years of this shit, I'm used to it.
When the sky opens up and the rain pours down, I hardly flinch, hardly bother to walk faster, and when it stops, I'm soaked through, slicking my hair back from my face right as I catch sight of him smoking outside the compound.
"You wanna share?" I ask him, grinning crookedly, "I think mine are fucked."
Dodge handed his lighter over, laughing at Neil's dry reply. He didn't really mind rolling them. It gave him something to do, it was simple and repetitive and he didn't really have to think too hard about it.
"I could, uh, roll you some," he said, trying to sound cool as he offered but just coming off as a little shy. "You know...since you don't have time."
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Guy had been running. The clothes box had given him a pair of very decent running shoes (they had air in them) and they were comfortable even on the uneven soil of the land. It had been a pleasant jog until the skies tore open.
From that moment on he had been running for shelter only.
He reached the compound - soaking. "A little warning, next time, might be nice," he commented.
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"You're a fuckin' mess, man," he said, aware he was no better.
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"I'm not expert but I'm pretty sure smoking after a run kind of defeats the purpose," he teased.
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He pauses under the over-hang.
"Fuck this weather," he says.
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"I grew up somewhere so hot that it's a pleasant change."
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"Hot, huh? Like a desert or something?" he asked, wondering what kind of place could be hotter than here.
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Not that he looked particularly upset either. She figured if he was, he would have run inside to get dry instead of stopping for a smoke by the doors.
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"I'm starting to get itchy, but I can handle it. I don't want to drip all over the floor when I do go inside," he explained. "Plus I know it's going to be cold. That air con and these wet clothes? I'll freeze my balls off before I get some dry clothes."
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Dodge just shrugged and gave a noncommittal sound, a lazy 'I don't know'.
"Just, uh, smoking," he added.
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When the sky opens up and the rain pours down, I hardly flinch, hardly bother to walk faster, and when it stops, I'm soaked through, slicking my hair back from my face right as I catch sight of him smoking outside the compound.
"You wanna share?" I ask him, grinning crookedly, "I think mine are fucked."
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"I should make you roll me some. I get sick of rolling them all the time."
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"Thanks," I mumble around it, motioning for him to hand me his lighter.
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"I could, uh, roll you some," he said, trying to sound cool as he offered but just coming off as a little shy. "You know...since you don't have time."
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