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@drumolition.

      dean’s got those two - am - breaking - into - a - haunted - apartment vibes.   he’s pretty sure it’s empty – i mean,  since the previous tenant’s THROAT was slashed,  there’s not really any doubt.   he’s been working on this door for ten minutes now with no luck.   he sighs.   murphy just had to come and stick his junk where it didn’t belong.   he takes a step backwards and kicks at the door.   it doesn’t budge,  but the hallway is acoustic enough to carry the sound out of the open - airway apartment building and into the street.   he tries again – again – nope,  nothing.   “well, this just SUCKS.”

      he notices movement out of his peripheral.   one hand goes to the gun in his waistband,  but when he turns to see a costume-clad girl perched on a railing,  he relaxes.   he wants to offer a smile,  but hey,  it’s two in the morning,  so he just scowls a little.  “nice costume. you goin’ to a late-night con or somethin’?”

            ❛  just ‘cause i have DREAMS that my drumming career takes off and i can leave this life of avenging behind doesn’t mean nothin’. i can buy every set of drums under the sun if i wanted, but i wanna TEST-DRIVE, y’know? i could be the next travis barker! — and who the fuck said my rimjobs were lousy!? i’m freaking DEADPOOL, 8-mile.  ❜

           ❛ ------------ keep it up and i’mma gonna test-drive all over your FACE. seriously, you’re like, ONE STEP behind ‘hot cross buns’ bein’ shrieked into some fourth-grader’s recorder. i’m actually offended by this. know what? move. scoot. make way. spider-mama’s got this. ❜

        ❛   SO MANY WORDS IN SUCH A SHORT PERIOD OF TIME —-

makes me wonder if you ever run out of breath. do you keep up the endless rambling while CRIME-FIGHTING ?   cause that sounds incredibly counterproductive, a waste of energy if you will.  anyhow, wouldn’t go around telling people you’re SUPERGIRL, we have our own here and her outfit’s cuter than yours. wouldn’t want to give a —— fellow hero a bad reputation now, would you ?  you’re in GOTHAM, new jersey. and yes, we have memes here too.  ❜

           ❛ hey! i didn’t frolic through dimensions just to get my outfit harshed on by some chick all dolled up in EXPENSIVE LEAF NONSENSE. seriously, you want a side of RANCH with that strut? ❜    sick burn, spider-woman. got the moves in every universe.  but now’s not the time.

❛ -------------------- look, whatever, okay. ❜  she waves a hand to dismiss all of it; even lay that beautiful comeback to rest.   ❛ i’m tryna get to earth-1-800-uh-oh, but i guess i... took a wrong turn? can that happen? errrrr. ❜  ( cricket chirps. )

               I MEAN, YEAH. upon further inspection, might’a been nice to put a real pair of pants on —- but who is he if not the king of humility?  ❛ yeah, actually. kid, been tailing you for blocks waiting for the chance to confess my true feelings on that DARING RESCUE. lady-samaritan, i implore you – hold my hands, please. look into my eyes. ❜

he doesn’t catch her hands ( because that’s moving too fast ), but he does tip his head down, working that blue steel. ❛ i live here. ❜  exit pseudo-serious dramatics, enter the bounce thing. ❛ SERIOUSLY! shit, we’re neighbors. damn, s’this a bachelor? why’s there a stove beside your bed —- fire hazard —- gonna invite me inside? ❜  he’s already inside.

             ❛ --------- uhhh. ❜

had she any time to think, or even blink, maybe she woulda pulled the sorry, busy card. sorry, roommate’s sleeping. sorry, ‘bout to head out. sorry, stove to close to couch and apartment is currently on fire, smell ya some other time, old man.

( to be fair, dude’s probably waxing thirty. )

but she didn’t, and now he’s here, standing in the tight space crammed between the both of them. she’s offended, really ---- his tall stature’s making her studio look that much smaller, and for a moment, she totally blames him for everything wrong in her life. oh yeah, muchacho, spider-stuff included.

no offence but i could totally see this happening to u in rl too

  ❛ not that much over ninety, gwendoline, but thanks  .  ❜

  sarah inhales a puff of coffee before taking a sobering gulp and rolling her eyes behind the tufts of steam hitting the bridge of her nose  .  ❛  —  so,  you wanna fight me  CAPTAIN AMERICA  with my own shield whilst i pretend to be GODZILLA ?    how old are you, again,  webhead ? ❜

          ❛ old enough to school you! feel like learnin’ a new trick, O capitan? ❜   oh yeah, she’s got this one. she’s got this one in the bag. she’s got this one in, like, twelve bags and they’re all chanel. sporting the cockiness of a five-year-old who just won a fight of na-na-na-boo-boo, she plants a hand on her hip, stance akimbo while proudly donning the garb of a huge ass shield like it ain’t shit.

                Boot meets beer cup and sends it skittering across the ground. He’s very fucking surprised by her— and her weird vernacular. Dax marks off the things he doesn’t know (which is a lot) and manipulates the rest into something a little easier to understand. His head cocks and his tongue clicks. Proper response? He’s unsure, but he’ll find one. 

                ❛ Huh—? I am Dax. Who’s Missy Elliot? ❜

               ❛ SWEET LICKS THERE, DADDIO.

 ... er. wait. i dunno. do people still say daddio? i’m suddenly hyper-aware of the fact that no one has said daddio since wearing shades indoors was cool. shit. ❜    lips contort to the side of her face; nubby nails ruffle wild hair in a scratch. she shifts to tuck drum sticks lazily into the open space where her jeans don’t quite reach her middle back, much like one would a gun.