the feral twin (
rebelseekspizza) wrote in
fandomtownies2016-07-01 10:50 am
Entry tags:
Groovy Tunes, Friday
If Dante was completely honest, he didn't really want to come into work today; he'd been hovering over Anders for all of yesterday and kinda wanted to keep doing it again today, just in case someone tried to up and disappear the guy again. But skipping work over that meant admitting that he was being that much of a mother hen right now, and there was no way in hell that was happening.
So, hey. At least the stereo was behaving again today.
He popped on a disc of poppy European dance remixes - the kind he could actually stand - because he wasn't in the mood for anything heavy today. Then he drifted, restless, towards the instruments to study the guitars in a desperate attempt to channel all the excess energy he was dealing with right now.
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So, hey. At least the stereo was behaving again today.
He popped on a disc of poppy European dance remixes - the kind he could actually stand - because he wasn't in the mood for anything heavy today. Then he drifted, restless, towards the instruments to study the guitars in a desperate attempt to channel all the excess energy he was dealing with right now.
[[ open! ]]

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It wasn't like she really kept track of anyones' schedules, so spotting Dante had her eyebrow going up. She stood there wearing a pair of pants that would have had Kathy laughing herself sick and then looking for some matches, and called out. "Hey. What's up?"
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Funnily enough, his snark didn't sound quite as pointed as it usually did.
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It wasn't clear that anyone had the legs to pull off something like those.
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Oh, sick burn, Ringo. You were so good at this.
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Sobering for like, half a second. But no more than that. He was in a good, if restless mood, damn it.
"So what the hell made you get those? And what hell are they from?"
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Then, a little bit more concerned, "how's he doing?"
She basically just assumed that Dante was taking care of him.
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"Seems to be okay," he said, "Needs to eat a ton of food stat but he's alive and happy about it."
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Funny. He sounded about seven years younger than his age saying that.
Good, miraculous things never happened to him. This was weird and new.
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It made her grin.
"So how'd he end up on the beach, anyway?"
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How did that work?
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"Well, he's back." That was what was important.
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He'd yelled at her for having rose-tinted glasses just for thinking good things could happen, and yet, here they were.
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