#runrubyred

Eyebrow cocked, the blond spared River a glance then focused straight ahead on the moving targets. Less than a minute later, Sam had knocked down eighteen out of the twenty small targets. Sporting a grin, he lifted the gun and blew imaginary smoke from the barrel and laughed. He leaned closer to the other and rubbed his shoulder with his own, voice low as he confided. “Everyone thinks that’s from years on the ranch, but it’s just from video games.”

“Yeah, I can grow better weed than Hoberman, but no, I’m not going to just give you any.” Kaamir shook his head before he grabbed a nearby watering can and set off to fill it. There were easier ways to do this, sure, but he liked getting his hands dirty most of the time. He already had a faint sheen of dust on him, fingernails sporting soil and his clothes full of dirt stains. More than once, before Brakebills, he’d been lauded over for having a green thumb. He still got it occasionally, most of his spells involving his discipline directly being livelier than most. After the can was finally full, he used it to water every plant in the greenhouse, only ignoring the ones that didn’t need any for now. “Same goes for any other crops or mushrooms you’re looking for to get your rocks off.” Kaamir set the watering can off to the side and folded his arms, eyes roaming over the other’s form with indifference before he shrugged. “If you don’t have anything to trade, cash works just as well.”

"Are you going to keep staring or are you actually going to talk to me at some point?”

“I know we’ve never really talked before, but we’re in the same English course and I missed last week’s class, so can I please borrow your notes?” Hayden pleads with the other girl. She really didn’t want to flunk out of her first college course in the first semester.

                    "wait, wait, i'm not done." and indeed she's not-- there's still soot and grease smeared on her face, and her hands, black with dirt, are busy twisting and bending copper wire around a rather impressive emerald. there are jeweller glasses at the tip of her pointy nose, and her hair is a mess, a few strands actually sticking up because of the motor oil covering them. "it's a very delicate process, i could break the wire or even worse, the emerald... i mean, have you seen the size of this thing ? it costs over thirty grands, i don't wanna have to lose that shit." she knows she's rambling, but the hand slipping under her tank top is distracting at best. "armand, stop that."

Sometimes finding the owner of a dream is difficult, sometimes it’s almost too easy. At least right now, it’s the latter and with a huff, Hayley’s marching toward them and grabbing clothing from what appears to be thin air. It’s not until she’s within reach that she’s throwing the garments directly at the naked guy being laughed at behind the DJ booth. It’s a dream she’s pulled numerous men out of by now that it’s almost routine, a fact she hates more than the dreams themselves at this point. “Put these on and by the way, your playlist sucks. Don’t quit your day job.” Then she’s walking away, feet shuffling toward the nearest neon exit sign with purpose. She doesn’t look behind her, only shouting, “Well? Come on!”