creator_raven | (no subject)

(no subject)

It is not so much that Raven likes the desert. But there are not many people there who are planning to stay.

Trucks on the road, the occasional car, airplanes flying over. It is not so bad.

There is enough transience for things to be okay.

But he gets bored.

This is problematic.

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"Don't think I won't. She's pissin' me off." She grumbles, slowly pushing to her feet. "Even it'll probably break m'hand in the process."

"Gauntlets, perhaps, are not so uncomfortable."

He tosses something at her, a tiny bundle of bone pins and grey thread.

There may be a tooth in it, as well.

But not Coyote's.

"I do not know if it will help, so much. Still."

It looks something like a cross between an artifact and some kindergartener's arts and crafts project. Ace eyes it for a moment, before using one of the pins on her jacket to pin it on.

"It's, um." She eyes it, trying to think of something positive to say. "Creative?"

"It is not so bad at keeping away luck, I do not think."

Sadly it does not work very well with scorpions once they are no longer theoretical.

Still.

"Shit!" Says Ace, somewhat inappropriately to his announcement, stomping the little bug to a flat paste about two seconds too late.

"Ow." She adds a moment later, and decides sitting down is good.

"I've changed m'mind." She mutters, if a bit thickly, a few moments after that. "Horsehead Nebula."

"It will be easier, I am thinking, when you are not poisoned."

He still sounds tired.

And the flat paste of the scorpion is now on fire.

Raven is, it seems, also angry.

"Temper." Ace notes, blinking owlishly at Raven while she attempts to resolve him into one single Adobebutt. "They have support groups for that sort of thing. With... projects, an' things. Fingerpaint."

"Likely I would set that on fire, too."

So there.

She frowns for a moment while her brain ticks along at what she feels is a freakishly slow speed.

"They don't have support groups for that." She decides, finally. Then her face lights up with a cheery grin.

"They do have sisters though."

"That, I am thinking, is a very fine thing."

He'd hug her if that wouldn't get her killed again.

As it is --

Some of the sand in their vicinity fuses into glass.

It's very pretty glass, if that helps.

"Y'goin' t'be alright, Bird?" She worries. Even if it doesn't do much good.

"I will, I think, not so much die."

He quirks a smile, crooked and barely-there.

"And if I am for going mad it will, perhaps, not be so loud."

It's about all he can give her. Or anyone.

Thus far.

She huffs at him, mildly.

"Fine. I'd say I'd hold y'to that, but... that'd be pretty weak."

She thinks for a moment while getting back to her feet.

"Need anything?"

"More cookies, perhaps."

He wrinkles his nose, remaining crouched and looking up at her.

"Also eyeballs. If they are not so very tiny."

"Done." Why yes, she'll be back.

Duh.

"Just... put some signs up or sommat next time, right? There has t'be a better way of findin' you than gaugin' how bad my luck is."

With the underlying threat that if he doesn't put up signs, she's going to use that method exactly.

He snorts.

"Possibly next time I will be for finding you."

It is not difficult.

Just.

Painful.

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