sunshine, blue skies

[raymond ablack — 31 — he/him] Introducing DANVIR PERSAUD. Word on the street is they are a SKETCH ARTIST, and despite what others might think, they remain NON-CORRUPT. Though they are DETACHED and SLY, they can also be HONEST and ORDERLY. In the chaos of New York City, they’re sure to fit right in. 

›››

It was officially that time of the night where things got weird in New York, to say the least. Any sort of worry she had were simply washed away with the comforting taste of tequila for Penelope now. Her night proved to be more fun than she thought, happy that she hadn’t gotten into too much trouble. 

Leaving the loud, hot chaotic environment of The Cancún, she took a deep breath of the brisk air. So fucking refreshing. It felt like she had been in there for decades. Her steps were heavy as she left the memories she had just made, looking for an escape. That was until he appeared as a giant green worm. Penelope let out a laugh, covering her mouth as she took in the sight. 

“God save us,” Penelope said, approaching the hard-to-miss stature of Danvir. 

“I just need one picture,” she said, pulling her phone out and making sure she had this recorded for a future needed laugh. 

“I’ve been here! Where’ve you been? Sliming up the fucking streets of New York?”

Half of the world may seem hazy in his current condition, but he immediately recognized the outline of a phone. “One? Girl, take plenty of ‘em,” he replied, still shouting as he got into pose one – both hands braced on each knee with his ass stuck out as far as possible. 

“Here? Like in.. like in the street? Why’re you just chillin’ in the street? Did someone do some fuckshit again?* 

* Translate as: state the name, place, time, description of the soon to be sorry bastard that needs to be verbally torn to shreds. 

for: anyone location: some random street somewhere

-

“Well,” Scott started.

He had not expected the day to go the way that it had. It had been fairly normal to start: he had spent the first half of his shift at the bookstore unpacking boxes of new releases to stack on the shelves, organizing and then reorganizing the sales section until his brain felt like it had all but turned into goo. He’d taken his break, expecting to make a quick trip to the bodega down the street for a breakfast sandwich and maybe, just maybe, a bottle of that disgusting soda that he had a penchant for as a treat.

It had gone mostly according to plan, minus that guy, standing outside said deli, cat-calling any woman who had tried to walk past.

Scott, not one to mind his business when such things occurred, hadn’t thought twice before throwing a punch at the guy. It was more like second nature than anything. For someone people deemed often as sweet and harmless, he resorted to tackling all of his problems by doing just that… tackling.

Maybe his old man shouldn’t have ever let him step foot in a ring.

It was going well, until the guy had made for his sandwich, his beloved and most precious bacon egg and cheese, before throwing it rather unceremoniously at his head. That had really been the kicker.

He was about to do something both incredibly out of line and regrettable, when someone steps in. In the blink of an eye, far too quick for even Scott to tell just what the hell had happened, the cat-caller with absolutely no decorum or respect for sandwiches had all but run off, shouting profanities at the newfound pair.

“Well…” Scott tried again, snapping out of his thoughts, “that wasn’t what I’d have hoped to happen today.” Staring down at the remnants of his sandwich for a moment, he looked to his savior again, letting out a small smile. “Thank you for your help. And for avenging my beloved.” He sighed.

In hindsight, some extra attention could have been put forth into ventilation. Having arm holes and a slot to see out of was fine and all, but the core of his body began to feel like the embodiment of swamp ass ( swamp torso? ) after the third drink. Now that he’s consumed a lot more shots, fallen over at least once, danced his little heart out, and escaped onto the streets in costume.. the possibility of coming down with heat stroke was within reach. 

Half bleary from the stuffiness, the only thing that stuck to his booze addled brain was to get something non-alcoholic to drink. Then again, maybe a chilled glass of.. no, no – some water would do him good. 

But..

A sudden altercation meters away snapped him out of his looped thoughts. Danvir might not have the wherewithal to articulate the best in his current state, but he still had two functioning legs ( that were only slightly hindered by the platform shoes ). In the nearly 7ft green worm stomped, already spouting a bunch of ‘hey, the fuck’s goin’ on?’ and ‘whoa- hey, no’s. any further fighting would’ve spurred him to join in with his own set of hands, but the prior duo quickly split. 

With his best mate swept away, it looks like he's bound to fly solo for the remaining evening. Some part of him, an extremely big part, wanted to gripe and wail about it, but he chose to be the bigger man here.  It’s good that Andel had someone else for him. Sweet, even, with the way that Rust guy came in a flurry and carried a giant purple worm out of the party.

Grossly sweet.

Alas, none of that mattered in regards to him when he was left to kick pebbles down the street ( he can’t not be secretly petty even if he wanted to ). Perhaps the entire night would have been spent in such a manner – him scuffing his shoes and heaving out sighs – if he didn’t randomly spot his one and only silver lining. 

“Dude, you flatter me.” Mark smiled graciously, raising his drink to the man and tipping it back to finish it. “Wish I could tell you differently. I’m as single as they come.” More than this stranger would possibly know. Mark had never done much dating at all. “All night, eh? That’s dedication.” Mark’s curiosity had certainly been piqued, but he was still suspicious. “How’d you get roped into being the wingman, huh? Didn’t you come here to get drunk and have fun like the rest of us?”

“Wish you could? Is that implying that you’re in the market to change that relationship status?” Or lack thereof.

-

This was it, the moment Andel had been waiting for. After way too many drinks, and the loss of his morals and self respect, this was his night. Two worms, complete with fishnets and heels, versus the city of New York. People would write papers about this day, and it would go down into history. Sure, Andel felt like the world was spinning, and his teeth felt weird, but fuck this was what living was all about. He could hardly understand what Danvir was saying, but he got the encouraging gist of it. 

“You’re right. I’m trash can! We gotta find you a weird man too!” In his head, the words came out strong and full of confidence. In reality, they were slurred and wavered. Andel grinded his jaw from side to side, entrigued by the way his teeth felt numb. “We’re the hottest worms here”.

“Yeah! You’re trash can!” There went the whoops and hollers as he bellowed from the gut out. Nearing the land of teetering, he extended a hand outwards to place on his friend’s.. shoulder? Andel’s string worm shoulder. “And we are the fuckin’ hottest worms here– damn right. But we don’t gotta.. we don’t gotta find me a weird dude, though. Feel like that criteria’s already filled by you, you goddamn.. Rockstar.” From brain to mouth, there was absolutely no hinderance to what what he thought and said. 

-

“Well thank you very much.” She grinned, twirling to show off her dress some more. It was truly a masterpiece and she wished she could wear it every day. It had to be shortened to fit her even with her super high heels, but it didn’t take away from the magic of the Versace gown. “I’ll help you pull together a look for the next Halloween party you go to. I’m planning to celebrate until next week. I got a few more costumes lined up.” 

“Look, just ‘cause you’re trash don’t mean y'can’t do great things. It’s called garbage can, not garbage cannot,” Danvir bellowed as he attempted to hold his friend’s ‘head’ with both hands. On a normal day that would’ve taken minimal effort, but tonight was the exact opposite. Not only were the arm holes a slight hinderance to mobility, but the elongated face of both costumes proved to make an endearing gesture impossible.

worm on a string fit ft. @andelkenza​

-

It was definitely disbelief that crossed his face at the words that left Danvir’s mouth. For a moment, he was annoyed, and the next, he was infinitely amused. Now, this told him a couple things - one, that this was someone who had no idea who he was, and what he does, and the fact that this is his territory. It meant that this wasn’t someone who was involved in any of the gangs and that, for one, was a pretty good thing. Two, that he could actually be more fun than Lucky’d first assumed. He always did like them a little bold. 

“Does that work on most people you meet?” He asked, almost curious. “Or did you really think so low of me that you assume a line like that’ll work?” His words were biting, but his tone was nothing less than cheerful. 

“More often than you think,” he finally offered a response. “so how about it? Up for a second round?” He asked, matching the other’s smirk. “Of drinks, I mean.” 

“Sometimes, but not in a traditional sense,” he mused back, smile never diminishing despite the rightfully harsh response. The phone that sat in his left pocket burned hot as coals; a reminder of just how spectacularly shitty he’d been for little to no reason other than discomfort. And yet he’d been so quick to harp on others for doing the same exact thing. 

Hypocritical of him. Shameful, even.

“Fuck I forgot about their horns. Maybe i was thinking about sheep? Do they have horns too? If so, I choose neither, that’s an unfair advantage I did not consider.” She was just thinking of a baby goat since they were smaller, she could probably take a baby goat in a fight. When the mother wasn’t around. Maybe a teenage goat? It would make her feel less guilty if she came into a situation where she had to decide what animal she absolutely had to fight. It was something she thought about a lot. “Green shirt dress with sparkles all over it. Picture it. Visualise it. Super cute, right?” She gave him a moment before she continued. “Oh, we became friends and it turned out that it wasn’t an actual gorilla after all but a human in a gorilla costume.”

“Pretty sure some do. Also pretty sure they’ll still headbutt you, but maybe not as much as goats,” said he, a man that had absolutely no experience with farm animals. Well, most animals, actually. 

“Humoring people is what I do best” Mark grinned, sliding around to face the man that had just come up to him. Mark settled on a slightly puzzled look despite the grin refusing to go away. He wasn’t sure exactly where this was going. Was this friend hypothetical? Either way, Mark had nowhere important to be, might as well entertain the question. “I know it might come as a shock, but I’m very single actually.” Mark shrugged the statement off. He had never had much time for relationships anyways. Maureen had made her high school relationship look effortless, but they had never come so easy to Mark. “I hope that’s the answer your friend was looking for.”

-

“God, you are truly a monster”. Andel was for sure never going to let Danvir drag him out ever again. He would never allow himself to be subjected to this kind of cruelty. The worse part was that he knew his friend wasn’t joking, and those threats weren’t empty at all. So he either had to suffer the fear of being sling shot across the ring, or fess up. “We just had a nice night, okay? I’m sure it would have been better if someone wasn’t in the lane next to us”.

“Huh uh, well that doesn’t sound salty at all,” amusement or not, Ahmed understood that most people didn’t exactly see improvisation as true acting or true art. As if the other sorts of acting weren’t glorified lying.  “Ah, now that’s music to my ears. It’s all about making people see things from a different angle. My angle. Now I’ll never say that it’s the best angle, but I’m glad you enjoyed it,” and he accompanied his words with warmth. “Oh, well you’ll have to show me your work. I’d ask for lessons but I’m afraid I never graduated from stick men and women.”

location: anywhere

Eliana was known for getting sidetracked easily and starting a sentence without knowing where it was going, her mind jumping from one thing to another. “You know this reminds me… I had the weirdest nightmare last night! So there I was, walking down the street in a super cute outfit, much like the one I’m wearing right now, and suddenly I was abducted by a group of masked men and had to join an underground fight club and fight against a gorilla.” Her eyes widened, being overly dramatic in her storytelling. “Obviously I didn’t want to do it, like look at me. I can’t take a gorilla in a fight.  I think I could take a dog, like a chihuahua… then again they’re vicious for their size… maybe a goat? I mean, I would rather not have to fight any animals they’re all so cute, even the ugly ones, don’t you think?” Pausing when she took in her expression she remembered that they had asked her something. Oops. “Sorry, what did you say again?” 

Danvir, for all intents and purposes, was fascinated. Talk about going from point a to point b, but with the exception of getting stuck on shoddy traffic circle halfway through. Whatever said prior paled in comparison to this deluge of this verbal dream mapping. 

starter ╲╲╲ CLOSED !

special delivery ╲╲╲ @unscught

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Penelope’s mind was somewhere else as the stranger speaking in front of her tried to connect someway somehow with her. It wasn’t going to happen. Their random ranting about the stock trade and politics didn’t interest her. She sat there with her hand on her chin as she looked around the restaurant watching others engaged in their own conversations. ‘Hey… hello…. earth to Penelope? You there?’ Their voice interrupted her daydreaming and she snapped out of it. Looking back over at them slightly confused and she shook her head. There was no nice way to say this. She just didn’t have the patience to waste her time at this grown age. Grabbing her almost full drink and finishing it quickly, she locked eyes with Danvir quietly observing from his seat and nodded her head. It was time to get up out of there. 

“It’s you, not me,” Penelope told them. There was no emotion to her words. She didn’t have much else to say besides see you never. 

“Just– don’t call me again, okay?” she said to them, pushing her seat away from the table. 

So here he was, totally inconspicuous – a mere fly on fly patterned wallpaper, to keep an eye on one of his beloved best friends. Truly, Danvir thought himself a goddamn chameleon that’s fully calibrated to the busy surrounding. Servers weaved between chairs and tables, other customers bustled about to find their spot or go to the restroom, and he remained stagnant. A pillar of stillness, done up in a little number of bleak clothing and the gigantic morning paper. 

One hundred percent discreet and fool proof.

“It’s you, not me.”

The mantra of being as exciting as a boulder didn’t break until he heard those red-lined words. Newspaper suddenly scrunched in one hand, he moved with a quickness that almost left him dizzy. Thankfully, there was just enough focus to stare down any further attempts to salvage the piss poor date.

The man opened his mouth, but he was faster to spit his thoughts out. “Nuh-uh, you’re done.” Drawn up to his full stature with his chest puffed and shoulders squared, Danvir casually wedged his body between Penelope and the sad sap once able. One last gesture for comb over man to sit the fuck back down, and he placed his full attention on his friend.