#sharpasdiamonds

sharpasdiamonds started following you

Tag game: Give us five facts about yourself and pass this on to FIVE of your followers.

Let's talk proper for this, 'a guess.

- I'm fluent in like, five different language's, but those are a secret~

- I was one of the richest kids about when I was kid!

- I drink too much, but I'm not really an alcoholic.

- I really dislike the concept of caliginous romances, go fuck yourself if you think that's racism.

Fine 

Tag game: Give us five facts about yourself and pass this on to FIVE of your followers.

I Worked In The Brooding Caverns Before Coming To Derse

I Turned My Bedroom Into A Closet

I Dislike The Color Red

I Apparently Need To Talk To Aranea About Books Because My Bookcase Was Recently Emptied

Read the August 4th logs first

DD:  /Knock knock, Clubs. You said the door was unlocked, and so Droog showed up./

CD: "Th' door's unlocked, just come in already."

DD:  ♦: "Figured I'd knock beforehand just to be safe."

/He opens the door slowly, peering in almost hesitantly just in case. Of what, he wasn't sure, but it still felt prudent to do so./

CD: "Just...just sit th' fuck down, let's get this over with f' fuck sake."

CD: *He gestured with his head to the foot of his bed. Hopefully Droog would take the hint, not too close, but still, he was giving him a chance*

DD:  "If you insist..."

/Droog edges into the room with obvious discomfort, taking a moment to self-consciously adjust his clothes. He'd left his jacket in his own room, and he was definitely feeling its absence right about now; fiddling with his cuffs all the while, he sits on the very farthest edge of the bed, doing his best to take up as little space as possible./

CD: "So, go on..."

*He paid little attention to Droog's nervous fiddling, instead curled, holding his knees, very nearly pouting at the head of his bed.*

DD:  "I--mm."

/He would've liked to light up a cigarette, but considering where he was, that wasn't such a good idea. Instead, he settles for grimacing as he fidgets, looking off to the side to avoid making eye contact with Clubs./

"Where should I start, exactly."

CD: "I..."

*He honestly didn't have a clue what he wanted from Droog, or what Droog wanted from him...he didn't trust him, so he'd start at the beginning*

"Just tell me why yer here, ya say ya wanna fix things, why?"

DD:  "I've been...thinking."

/Droog actually chances a look in CD's direction, lightly biting his lip. The glance doesn't last long by any means, and he settles instead for staring at the wall./

"I was trying to tell you that the first time around, but you weren't having any of that." /He gives a wry smile, shaking his head./ "Not that I blame you, in all honesty."

CD: *He proceeds to actually roll his eyes at Droog, because this was what was probably the 10th time he'd asked Droog for a straight answer and got fuck all in return. He really didn't have the patience for this, he felt shitty, and Droog sure had his moments*

Just...just get on with it Droog, ya make me feel like bangin' m' head against a brick wall f' fuck sake. 'a weren't in any state t' listen the other night, you KNOW that."

DD:  ♦: [paps]

CD: [still here, I can do the thing 8U]

DD:  "Do you remember when we were a team back in the war? You were a damn good spotter. Had my back plenty, and I know you kept me from dying more than once. I'm not sure if you regret that now." /He folds his hands over his lap, brushing a thumb over one of his rings. There's an unpleasant feeling burning in his chest, and he grits his teeth against it, smothering whatever had chosen to exacerbate the situation as quickly as possible./

"Lately, we act more like we were on opposite sides during all that. There's bad blood, and I know I had something to do with it. It's almost funny, really--during the war, I almost couldn't wait to be out of it so I could go off and be the Dignitary. Thought a position like that would be ideal, but all it does is chafe, as I realize now. I miss how it used to be sometimes."

CD: *He didn't give Droog some kind of expression of relief, or perhaps forgiveness, no, nothing so sweet, instead frowning further at the man, scowling as he went into his own tirade, voice low as he expressed his distaste and voiced his feelings at Droog's admittances*

"'a course 'a did, you were a fucking riot back then, good enough t' call a best friend or one 'a them moirail-y things! Didn't keep you alive just because 'a had t' either, I WANTED you alive, that's because we were buddies, we fucking bonded, or at least, 'a thought we did...

*He pulled his legs in, resting his chin upon his knees, staring at nothing but his bedsheets, he didn't want to meet Droog's gaze either*

"But none 'a that explains why ya changed after the war, sure we lost, but we made somethin' of ourselves! Yet there ya go, day after day, antagonisin', snarky remarks, lordin' yer superiority over us like yer god's fucking gift t' this shit hole we all live in!"

*He grumbled his last worse morosely, the weight of them catching in his chest*

"People 'av limits Droog, 'n I've just about reached mine..."

DD:  "I'm not surprised. It's-- I don't--know what to do with people now. Everything seemed to work better back when I had set orders and far less things to worry about. At best, all I had to do was survive, keep you from getting shot, and put a bullet into some Prospitian's brain. Now, there's enough to where I'm focusing too much on the big picture and not enough on what's more important. I can have as many plans as I want, but I can't exactly do much without a Midnight Crew to carry them out with, can I?"

/He pauses to give a short sigh before continuing, getting his thoughts into line as soon as possible./

"I got caught up, and I knew it every frogdamn time it came up. But instead of stopping and fixing it, I kept going and only made it worse. Can't just force my way through everything, or whatever other method of bullshit I favor. So here we are, years and plenty of stupidity later. It's almost funny."

CD: "Droog."

*Now that had thrown him a little, he'd not seen Droog falling over his own words in the longest time...no, actually, he'd never seen him like this. He wasn't his perfect, pristine, proper self right now, and Clubs felt a little bit accomplished at that. Needless to say though, despite him griping at Droog's sense of humour earlier, he didn't find this amusing in the slightest, simply disappointing.

He opted for a single request, it was really all's he wanted, annoyed or otherwise.*

  "...can I just have my friend back?"

CD: *No accent, maybe Droog would notice that.*

DD:  "We can make that work."

/He leans forward, propping his elbows up on his knees and redirecting his gaze to the floor. This entire situation is more than enough to put him out of his element, and he knows that it's showing; he doesn't like it one bit. Something's off about Deuce's voice when he speaks, and Droog figures out just what a few seconds later, glancing sidelong at the man out of curiosity./

"How do we even--do that? What, do we just...go have a drink and a smoke, go out and--really? It's been long enough to where I couldn't tell you what to do."

DD:  [now talk dersite to him and he'll start chittering]

CD: *He let lose a strained sigh before he gave Droog the easy way out, this wasn't going anywhere unless he gave the man a little lee-way; his knees relaxed and his palms flopped into his lap, staring at Droog for the first time...he'd never seen Droog hunch over like that before, this was weird and unvomfortable.*

  "Gimme some space, don't be an arse hole, 'n everything'll work out fine...[all's that I want is things to go back to the way they were]

*That hurt, but he wanted Droog to know he was being goddamn genuine.*

DD:  ./His head jerks up at the Dersite, a quiet chitter building in his throat for a few seconds before he smothers it. There's a sharper click to his words when he replies, not to mention a faint trill that he will by no means own up to./

[It's possible. You might have to remind me every now and again, but I'll try my best.] /He forces himself to sit back up, moving somewhat jerkily as he readjusts./ [You can just...speak in whatever human language you'd prefer, also. Don't have to use Dersite if you don't want to.]

CD: *He scoffs at the chittering, it was bothering him, bothering him in a manner which made him want to wrap his arms around that dumb Carapace and tell him they were fine. They were not, but they could be.*

[We'll get better, we'll improve, I'll keep you in line, and we can have fun again, like you used to] Right Diggy?"

*That was as close to pleading he'd get, he'd apologise and probably hug the bastard when tensions weren't quite as high, but for now...Droog deserved a little aggression.*

DD:  ./Droog manages a small smirk, smoothing the front of his shirt down distractedly in an effort to settle down. The old nickname earns a snort, and he relaxes visibly, even if there's still some tension hanging around. He's not going to calm down entirely by any means, but a start was good at least./

['Fun'? What's this 'fun' that you speak of?] /Chuckling to himself, he leans back just a little, soon after actually turning to face Clubs./ "You're going to have to remind me what that is, Courtyard. It's been a damn long while."

CD: *God-fucking-dammit, he just could NOT help the slither of a grin working its way across his face, seeing that same Droog from oh so long ago, so he scooted a little closer, maybe soon he'd be in punching distance, because he felt like it, a little bit, maybe in the arm...maybe in the dick, he hadn't decided yet.*

"Hehh, 'a can do just that, in a bit, maybe a day, month, week, 'a don't fuckin' know, but 'a wanna have things the way they were again...as dumb as it sounds, yer still probably one 'a m' closest friends, if ya forget the fact yer kinda terrifyin' 'a course."

DD:  "How exactly am I--? Mm, no, that's kind of a dumb question. Is it really -that- bad, though? I do try, yes, but...hm. Have I been scaring you away that badly?"

/He almost flinched at the movement, but succeeded in maintaining his calm, much to his relief. Droog was going to have to let Clubs come closer in all likelihood, and he began bracing himself just in case--he wasn't entirely prepared at the moment, as much as he'd like to be to facilitate things./

CD: "Ya just kind 'f are, t' be honest, 'a felt like first chance ya get yer always gonna stab me in the back. Still kinda do, 'a know yer kinda ambitious...probably, 'n it's fuckin' terrifyin' 'cos it's like, ugh, fuck, 'a dunno, 'm been dumb."

*That was far too much admitted in one go, and holy hell had it been uncomfortable. He instead gave Droog a surprise swift jab to the side of his arm, trying to alleviate the tension, it did, a bit, on his end anyhow.*

DD:  "Mm, I probably wouldn't. You're useful." /A shrug. The snicker that follows is hopefully enough to indicate that he was joking, and he allows himself a momentary smile. When the punch connects, he gives a sudden chitter, putting a hand on the spot as he levels a small frown in the other man's direction./

CD: "Wow, that just fills me with confidence ya fuckin' smarmy shelled bastard."

*He was grinning faintly despite what he'd said, not exactly meaning anything by it, maybe spurned a little by Droog's own super RARE almost never before seen smile, turning that into a full on grin once he heard the chittering.*

"Yer still easy t' rile up, lighten up yeah? After all, yer useful too, sometimes!"

DD:  [he's making the noises, clubs]

[this is what you do]

DD:  [he tries not to make the noises and then you come along and do the things and then bam]

CD: [i don't understand friend 8I]

DD:  [all the carapace sounds]

CD: [i know he is but]

CD: [what about it?]

DD:  [you have succeeded in breaking the droog]

CD: [hell yeah!!!]

CD: [now what tho]

DD:  [kick him in the ribs]

CD: [what no that's mean]

DD:  [just do it]

CD: [why???]

DD:  [(don't actually do it sjhkdgsk)]

DD:  [now, you may retrain the droog]

DD:  ♦: [get him to be less of an asshole this time]

CD: [okay i'll get the collar]

DD:  [one does not collar the dignitary]

CD: [HE AIN'T NO DIGGY ANYMORE YO]

DD:  [sHHHHH IT STILL COUNTS]

CD: [nah son, gonna collar this derse bitch]

DD:  [BC]

DD:  "As it should! I did say you were important, you know. That has to count for something, probably. Isn't that how that works?"

/The frown fades quickly, replaced by a small grin to match Deuce's. He hesitates as he considers his next course of action, a short series of low clicks being the only warning before he snaps forward, returning the earlier punch with a light one of his own to make things even.

"Only sometimes? I'm wounded."

CD: "Probably! Goddammit Droog, yer makin' me like ya agai-ow!"

*A little over-dramatic, but he wa astounded at just how much Droog was...trying? Maybe that was the right word, he wasn't entirely sure, but he sure as hell was enjoying the cheerful mood he seemed to have instilled in the Carapace, trilling too! He couldn't remember if he'd ever heard it before now, though it sounded familiar...it was either a happy sound, or maybe aroused, good god Dersite was hard...oh god, what if?"

"Droog? Er, yer Derse-y noises, whadda they mean? They're a bit...confusin'."

DD:  ./Droog inspects his knuckles with a small snicker, shortly after reaching over and hesitantly patting the spot on the other man's arm where his punch had connected. He was certainly trying to get along with Clubs right now, by all means--it had been far longer than he'd thought since he'd just sat down and talked with the man instead of insulting him, and this was actually...nice, really. The carapace would just have to hope that this meeting was going as well as he thought it was, though./

"They can mean different things. It's usually based on tone and frequency, in all honesty--and they're probably confusing because you can't make them, I'd wager." /He pauses, squinting at CD out of the corner of his eye./ "...what are you thinking they mean, though."

CD: *This was weird, one of the most unusual situations he'd ever been in involving Droog, not entirely unwelcome, but holy hell this would take some getting used to. Patting? Genuine explanations! It was like a whole new person, or perhaps, it was his old friend trying to get to know him again...*

"Er, they sounded pleased, either that or horny, 's hard t' tell with Dersite's, everything sounds the same! No, offense or anything. But yeah, y' don't do the gay thing, or at least the relationship thing, 'n neither do I, don't really fancy fucking a brick wall with a dick, so 'm settlin' f' pleased, hopin' at the least, fuck."

DD: ♦: ./He fixes Clubs with a stare of mild horror for a few seconds before shaking his head vehemently, partially to choke out the snicker building./

((DD: cue droog trying to communicate that he's maybe a little worried but probably saying something like 'you'd be dumb enough to die in your sleep' and then just internally kicking the shit out of himself))

CD: 'been doin' this f' near on six years, 'a can handle it, now fuck off.'

DD: '...that is not what I was trying to say. And no. I'm staying right here.'

CD: 'great, thanks, just sit yer bony ass on m' bed 'n make everything worse, best fuckin' co-worker.'

DD: 'Just--think of me as your spotter for the time being. You should remember that.'

DD:  '--the spotting part. Not--dammit.'

CD: 'if m' hands weren't currently fuckin' busy tryin' t' massage the headache, which, f' the record, ya ain't makin' any better, i'd be throwin' you out the fuckin' door Droog, bony ass 'n all. You ain't welcome, so just get the fuck offa m' bed or go loiter in a fucking chair.'

DD: 'I'd like to see you try, Clubs. We both know how that would go.'

'/...still gets up and moves to the nearest chair instead'

CD: 'Yer in a room a bombs you fucking idiot.'

CD: '*he doesn't even notice Droog moving, just that his voice becomes distant*'

DD: 'But would you really blow yourself up just to be rid of me?'

CD: 'depends if ya shut the fuck up or not'

DD: '/Frown. That had probably been a bad question to ask, anyway. On the plus side, Droog remains silent, just watching with moderate discomfort plain on his face./'

CD: '*Okay, fuck this if he could relax with fucknig Droog in his room, evident when he sat up and voiced his frustrations, voice practically shrill at the goddamn Carapaced bastard, even his silence was excruciating.*'

CD: 'What.'

CD: 'What d' ya want from me?'

CD: 'Why the fuck are ya in my room? Is this just more cruel shit t' torture me? Been a regular cunt ain't enoguh for ya? Got too bored? Figured you'd move onto bigger 'n better things!?'

DD: '/Clubs had actually succeeded in earning a flinch from Droog at first, though that hadn't lasted long before the reaction went south. For a few seconds, there's a dull purple glow from his joints as if he was about to lash out, but he forces himself to take a few measured breaths, jaw clenched until he settles down enough to respond./'

'Moving on to bigger things seems to be a problem of mine. But I'm not here to annoy you, even if you might think otherwise.'

CD: '*Clubs says no words, instead only making a shrill noise of frustration as he throws his hands into the air, the pair soon finding their way to his own skull as that had not been a good idea at all*'

DD: '...don't make it worse for yourself.'

'/After a long pause, he speaks again, making sure to keep his tone quiet in the hopes of not agitating Clubs further./ Please.'

CD: '*In that instant he locked eyes with Droog, glaring daggers at the man under his own duress.* and why th' fuck would YOU care? You're the one makin' it worse, if you weren't here none 'a this would be happenin', why are ya hear? Stop makin' me repeat myself!'

CD: 'Do you even why why yer here??'

DD: '/Again, Droog keeps himself from snapping back, even though the temptation is very much there. He rubs his eyes lightly with one hand, shoulders drooping just slightly as he sighs./'

'Yes, and no. It's--perhaps a bit complicated. /Drawing himself up once more, the carapace meets CD's stare with a surprisingly calm one of his own, quietly keeping his knee in a chokehold to vent a little of the frustration./'

CD: '*God he can't do the angry thing, holy fuck is it exhausting, and instead he finds himself flopping into the wall at the head of his bed, dishevelled, hair a mess, skin clammy, he can't do something as taxing as this, why now?'

'Just go Droog, 'a don't care, don't give a flyin' fuck why yer here, unless you wanna talk shop, leave. Please.'

'*His voice was weak, his motivation to tolerate Droog non-existent, he wasn't going to tell him a damn thing, and he couldn't be bothered giving him the satisfaction of his anger, that's why he was here, to torment him, anger him, the words which echoed and occupied the majority of his thoughts.'

DD: '/He remains where he is for a few long moments more, stiff and uncertain--it shows, and he doesn't like it one bit. Getting up was an awkward affair, with none of the smooth movements or careful grace he'd spent so long perfecting; once he's to his feet, Droog simply stands there, brow furrowed and a nervous frown on his face. When he speaks next, it's in Dersite, given voice as fleetingly as possible as if he was taking an even larger gamble that he'd rather not entertain./'

'I--am sorry if I've done you wrong. I've forgotten things I should have remembered.'

'/He turns sharply on his heel and begins moving for the door, already fumbling for his lighter to spark up a cigarette for when he's outside./'

CD: '*He doesn't give Droog the courtesy of even looking at the man as he leaves, simply providing the with the harshest, but laboured Dersite he can, 'get out' he wheezes, and nothing more is heard from him as he drifts into pained silence, he didn't fucking want this, or whatever Droog was trying to do.'

It just so happened that people had been looking for Boxcar’s for a number of days, those being Fin’s current bargaining chip and the missing man’s significant other, though she was also accompanied by none other than two Crew mates, namely Diamonds Droog and Clubs Deuce.

Realising how dire the situation had been upon discovering the theft of Miss Bennet’s phone the three had since banded together in the hope they could glean some information as to his whereabouts, the outcome was looking suspiciously like kidnapping, even an idiot could see that.