Jet Star (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
starjet) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
talkingdaisies2016-09-17 06:41 pm
starjet) wrote in talkingdaisies2016-09-17 06:41 pm
Entry tags:
closed;
Jet wiped at his forehead, hugging close to the building as he stopped to tug at his shirt collar. He'd been running hot the past few days and the city had been experiencing a remarkable heat wave. It probably wasn't helping that he'd been wearing a jacket ever since a night of bad decisions saw him waking up alone and with a disturbingly bloody shoulder. The marks, teeth marks because apparently drunk him decided on a biter, had been aching some fierce for the past few days and no matter the amount of ointment he slathered on, it was still angry looking.
Thus the jacket in the high humidity. He didn't want to deal with questions, or listen to his co-workers laugh at him, over the remnants of a night out. He'd rather take the heat stroke.
Jet gave himself another few moments of leaning against the building, watching people file by on the street. Most didn't so much as glance at him, just another uninteresting sight during early morning foot traffic. A few would glance over and he'd stare them down until they passed or got too uncomfortable. He wasn't sure why, no eye contact was practically a rule of city crowds and Jet had never felt the need to break it. Something about the cold, unimpressed looks set him on edge, made him feel more aggressive that the heat should allow.
He surprises himself that he's not just staring, he's outright glaring. He has to loosen his hand from the fist he'd somehow made and with a start, Jet pushes away from the wall to barrel through the crowd. He doesn't know where the sudden spike of anger came from, but it's settled low in his stomach and making the pain from his shoulder all the sharper. He tears his way in the crowd with the barest civility, knocking into elbows with only a quick, guff apology.
Thus the jacket in the high humidity. He didn't want to deal with questions, or listen to his co-workers laugh at him, over the remnants of a night out. He'd rather take the heat stroke.
Jet gave himself another few moments of leaning against the building, watching people file by on the street. Most didn't so much as glance at him, just another uninteresting sight during early morning foot traffic. A few would glance over and he'd stare them down until they passed or got too uncomfortable. He wasn't sure why, no eye contact was practically a rule of city crowds and Jet had never felt the need to break it. Something about the cold, unimpressed looks set him on edge, made him feel more aggressive that the heat should allow.
He surprises himself that he's not just staring, he's outright glaring. He has to loosen his hand from the fist he'd somehow made and with a start, Jet pushes away from the wall to barrel through the crowd. He doesn't know where the sudden spike of anger came from, but it's settled low in his stomach and making the pain from his shoulder all the sharper. He tears his way in the crowd with the barest civility, knocking into elbows with only a quick, guff apology.
no subject
"Okay, back up. You realize that you were bitten by a werewolf, right? Don't care who you've been fuckin'."
No one's ever credited Kobra with having a great amount of tact and he's not looking to change that. He's never had to give anyone The Talk and he'd had Party there during his own transitional period.
"Really don't care where your dick's been unless it's comin' towards me, for the record."