- - Take A Ride Well. This was bullshit, and definitely somewhere up there on his mental list of 'top five unexpected things that the universe has subjected him to'. Dirk considered himself to be a fairly unflappable person and had been rolling with the punches... Fairly well, given the circumstances. The whole situation was too absurd to be some sort of practical joke of cosmic proportions. There were no Gods chuckling sensibly atop golden thrones at his inward confusion, or Godtiers ready to burst through the curtains of reality whilst cheering 'gotcha!'.
This was all very real, and very weird.
Nor did he appreciate the most figurative cocktease that he had ever had to endure. Look at all these luxuries! Now into the Down you go. Although his neutral, outward appearance betrayed as much, Dirk was already feeling rather irritable towards the sudden lack of control. The Prince of Heart was not a man who liked to be told that he was not allowed to do something. Vulnerability did not sit well in his core. Of course, the first thing he did was seek out his accommodation to retrieve his clothing and shed that lame, standard issue hospital gown. He found at least a sliver of solace in the familiarity of reclaiming his appearance. Small steps, small comforts.
Dirk did not feel comfortable with waiting around in a small motel room to meet his roomie. Too frustrating, and the last thing he felt that he needed at this moment was more irritation. However, he is going to at least linger close to his designated building. There was no lack of reflective surfaces -- windows in particular. Suitable enough for him to tug the collar of his hood down with one finger and tip his head backwards to better assess the slim, black line that trailed along his throat.
"This is such bullshit."
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- - A Pocket of Penniescw: violence There was no way in hell that Dirk was willing to leave his weapon in his room. First of all, there was no telling who could get their hands on the very precious possession. Second, the atmosphere in this place was nothing short of predatory. Yet still, he was surprised that somebody dare attempt to pickpocket someone with a katana on their back. Clearly the criminal was not as sneaky as they thought, but they were lucky. Dirk had a lot of stress to burn that his sword couldn't sate.
The concrete nearby had been decorated with a new splatter of blood. The source was likely a nose, or a lip, or maybe even both. By the reddened welts on Dirk's knuckles keen to blossom into future bruises, it seemed that some unlucky son of a bitch had been given one hell of a beating for daring even breathe maliciously in his direction. Through clenched teeth, the Prince hissed and shook out his hand in an attempt to jostle away the ache. Completely worth it, regardless of the commotion he likely would have caused.
He just needed a moment to settle with his shoulder against a nearby wall to breathe through his adrenaline rush. He needed to calm down and get a tether on his emotions before they spiralled, or some undeserving bastard may end up with an unfortunate dent in their face for daring to brush too close.
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- - Wildcard! PM me for plotting, else just throw a starter. I am very flexible and willing to CR with anyone! Dirk is sixteen -- be sure to check his kinks and permissions!
Dirk Strider | Homestuck | Submissive.
Well. This was bullshit, and definitely somewhere up there on his mental list of 'top five unexpected things that the universe has subjected him to'. Dirk considered himself to be a fairly unflappable person and had been rolling with the punches... Fairly well, given the circumstances. The whole situation was too absurd to be some sort of practical joke of cosmic proportions. There were no Gods chuckling sensibly atop golden thrones at his inward confusion, or Godtiers ready to burst through the curtains of reality whilst cheering 'gotcha!'.
This was all very real, and very weird.
Nor did he appreciate the most figurative cocktease that he had ever had to endure. Look at all these luxuries! Now into the Down you go. Although his neutral, outward appearance betrayed as much, Dirk was already feeling rather irritable towards the sudden lack of control. The Prince of Heart was not a man who liked to be told that he was not allowed to do something. Vulnerability did not sit well in his core. Of course, the first thing he did was seek out his accommodation to retrieve his clothing and shed that lame, standard issue hospital gown. He found at least a sliver of solace in the familiarity of reclaiming his appearance. Small steps, small comforts.
Dirk did not feel comfortable with waiting around in a small motel room to meet his roomie. Too frustrating, and the last thing he felt that he needed at this moment was more irritation. However, he is going to at least linger close to his designated building. There was no lack of reflective surfaces -- windows in particular. Suitable enough for him to tug the collar of his hood down with one finger and tip his head backwards to better assess the slim, black line that trailed along his throat.
"This is such bullshit."
There was no way in hell that Dirk was willing to leave his weapon in his room. First of all, there was no telling who could get their hands on the very precious possession. Second, the atmosphere in this place was nothing short of predatory. Yet still, he was surprised that somebody dare attempt to pickpocket someone with a katana on their back. Clearly the criminal was not as sneaky as they thought, but they were lucky. Dirk had a lot of stress to burn that his sword couldn't sate.
The concrete nearby had been decorated with a new splatter of blood. The source was likely a nose, or a lip, or maybe even both. By the reddened welts on Dirk's knuckles keen to blossom into future bruises, it seemed that some unlucky son of a bitch had been given one hell of a beating for daring even breathe maliciously in his direction. Through clenched teeth, the Prince hissed and shook out his hand in an attempt to jostle away the ache. Completely worth it, regardless of the commotion he likely would have caused.
He just needed a moment to settle with his shoulder against a nearby wall to breathe through his adrenaline rush. He needed to calm down and get a tether on his emotions before they spiralled, or some undeserving bastard may end up with an unfortunate dent in their face for daring to brush too close.
PM me for plotting, else just throw a starter. I am very flexible and willing to CR with anyone! Dirk is sixteen -- be sure to check his kinks and permissions!