dexter the decidedly dreadful ☢ (
cryingontheinside) wrote in
asgardmeridiem2014-02-06 12:23 pm
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Entry tags:
[ closed ] we know the fire awaits unbelievers all of the sinners the same.
Who: Dexter & Connor
What: two shadow guys getting their shadow on (what).
When: Day 399, 2 pm.
Where: Hel Hardware
Rating: PG
Dexter edged into the store with his hood up under his new gifted leather jacket, hoodie dampened by the rain outside. He was still not acclimating very well to the cold, but at least sudden downpours were familiar. Tropical storms were just slightly different from rain in the middle of a 40 degree day, however, and he found himself shivering as he moved through the store. He shouldn't even be in here, it wasn't as if he could use his only skill in this stupid place. Not only would he instantly be found out and -- well, that was the question, wasn't it? Dexter didn't exactly know what the justice system was like in Asgard, but that didn't mean he had any desire to discover it from the inside.
The thing that bothered dashing-though-currently-dour Dexter more than even that, however, was that the bad person he made quick and clean and beautiful work of would only spring back up with our delightful protagonist's name on his filthy lips. Soon our hero was shuddering for a whole different reason as he picked up a screwdriver idly and twirled it in his hand.
Which was precisely when he recognized a commotion from the front of the shop. A customer, in attempting to get down a toolbox from too high a shelf to reach, had brought the whole shelf down. While usually Dexter would grimace at the sound and merely walk out, what happened next was most interesting. One of the store clerks directed his hand -- was that shadow? like Dexter of the dark himself possessed -- and stopped the chaos before it could make a startling mess. There were few things he appreciated more than organization; than things put in their rightful places.
Dexter emerged from the shelf he was scouting from behind and placed his screwdriver on the counter for Connor to ring up. Not only had this boy saved the day, but he seemed to have done so without much of a thought to it at all; as if his god-given power were entirely second-nature by now. And surely, it must have been. The natives and foreign customers like himself carried on without much reaction, as if they too were used to this phenomenon.
Trying for his most human smile, Dexter's hands went back into his pockets as he waited for the total. "The force is strong with this one," he recited cheerily, eyes shifting to the shelf that had almost fallen, and then back to his cashier.
What: two shadow guys getting their shadow on (what).
When: Day 399, 2 pm.
Where: Hel Hardware
Rating: PG
Dexter edged into the store with his hood up under his new gifted leather jacket, hoodie dampened by the rain outside. He was still not acclimating very well to the cold, but at least sudden downpours were familiar. Tropical storms were just slightly different from rain in the middle of a 40 degree day, however, and he found himself shivering as he moved through the store. He shouldn't even be in here, it wasn't as if he could use his only skill in this stupid place. Not only would he instantly be found out and -- well, that was the question, wasn't it? Dexter didn't exactly know what the justice system was like in Asgard, but that didn't mean he had any desire to discover it from the inside.
The thing that bothered dashing-though-currently-dour Dexter more than even that, however, was that the bad person he made quick and clean and beautiful work of would only spring back up with our delightful protagonist's name on his filthy lips. Soon our hero was shuddering for a whole different reason as he picked up a screwdriver idly and twirled it in his hand.
Which was precisely when he recognized a commotion from the front of the shop. A customer, in attempting to get down a toolbox from too high a shelf to reach, had brought the whole shelf down. While usually Dexter would grimace at the sound and merely walk out, what happened next was most interesting. One of the store clerks directed his hand -- was that shadow? like Dexter of the dark himself possessed -- and stopped the chaos before it could make a startling mess. There were few things he appreciated more than organization; than things put in their rightful places.
Dexter emerged from the shelf he was scouting from behind and placed his screwdriver on the counter for Connor to ring up. Not only had this boy saved the day, but he seemed to have done so without much of a thought to it at all; as if his god-given power were entirely second-nature by now. And surely, it must have been. The natives and foreign customers like himself carried on without much reaction, as if they too were used to this phenomenon.
Trying for his most human smile, Dexter's hands went back into his pockets as he waited for the total. "The force is strong with this one," he recited cheerily, eyes shifting to the shelf that had almost fallen, and then back to his cashier.
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Sighing at the commotion, Connor raised his hand and directed his shadow to join that of the toppling shelving unit's. Darkness slithered up like a blanket over the front of the shelves and gently pushed things back into place before setting the whole thing upright again. This sort of thing happened all of the time since nothing was bolted down; Connor was happy whenever he spotted it in time just because it spared him the trouble of picking everything back up. The native employee who had rushed over to save the customer from being crushed gave him a grateful look and Connor nodded in return, letting the shadows dissipate and going back to his bookkeeping.
He'd just carried the 3 on a twelve digit column when someone placed a tool on the counter to purchase -- Connor put his pencil down again and made sure his customer service face was on. Truth was, he was still tired from Alfheim and stressed out by several other things and not really in the mood to be working. Without making eye contact he gave the customer a small but pleasant smile and checked the tag on the screwdriver... he wasn't expecting them to make conversation, people rarely did.
"The force is strong with this one," the man said cheerfully, his eyes darting to the left when Connor glanced up at him.
"Huh-- oh. Yeah, you'd be surprised how much that happens." He shrugged, reaching for a shopping bag. "It's way easier to catch them than clean up the mess. Is this all you needed today?"
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But how could he keep this guy chatting? He felt as though he was losing his edge, here, where so few people were impressed by much of anything - let alone his own finely honed ability to be as boring as possible.
"I've never seen you around Hel House." A simple float, but perhaps he could catch something with it. He had to try, at least.
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Must be new, Connor thought, and probably lonely. Tired as he was, he'd make an attempt. "Oh, I moved out of the hall as soon as I could, it was way too crowded for me. Did you just get here?"
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"I'm not big on crowds either."
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And they are different, to Dexter. Important, even. He doesn't exactly know why, but they always have been. It's something he just accepts as fact and doesn't question.
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The war though. Afleim had been a jarring experience for Dexter; altogether unpleasant. He and his passenger fought their own personal war, they were not soldiers to be used.
"You seem like you've been at it a while."
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He offers the stranger a hand to shake. "I'm Connor, by the way."
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Except he did bring a knife to a gun fight. All the time. It was his actual M.O., but he'll let that slide. "I'll admit I never thought of using it that way." Again he inclines his head toward the shelf.
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He extends his hand and looks down at it. He, too, could learn to hone his shadow skills. But to what end?
"When do you get off work?" A beat and the passenger calls up the man's name. "Connor."