[ dirk doesn't pay much attention to the bubbles, not even when one pops on him. nothing happens so he just goes on with his day, going back out to look for a place to buy some supplies he'd forgotten on his first runs.
but the twin bubble must pop on someone else, because everything fades away and what's left is...
... it's viscerally familiar is what it is. dirk hasn't been here in about... thirteen years. he fell off the map when dave showed up. but here it is, just like always, and he's sitting at the bar with a beer next to him and a drag queen -- his partner, he realizes, at the time, is standing in front of him, fussing over a split lip with a wet napkin. it's still obviously dirk but he doesn't have a hat on, has his shades on the top of the bar, and he's leaner, skinny, tightly wound but a little looser than he normally is. maybe it's the beers.
you're going to get killed one of these days, she says, and dirk laughs, wincing when it stretches the cut and makes it start bleeding again. it feels too real, and things like reality are slipping away into the back of his mind. ]
I'm not going to die until later. I have a while left yet.
[ he sounds so sure of himself, and she sighs and starts dabbing at a cut on his head too. you didn't have to do that, anyway she finally adds, then shakes her head. that eye's gonna bruise, darling, but you're still handsome.
the laugh this time is a little reedy, and the tips of his ears turn pink even in the low light. ]
dream bubbles
but the twin bubble must pop on someone else, because everything fades away and what's left is...
... it's viscerally familiar is what it is. dirk hasn't been here in about... thirteen years. he fell off the map when dave showed up. but here it is, just like always, and he's sitting at the bar with a beer next to him and a drag queen -- his partner, he realizes, at the time, is standing in front of him, fussing over a split lip with a wet napkin. it's still obviously dirk but he doesn't have a hat on, has his shades on the top of the bar, and he's leaner, skinny, tightly wound but a little looser than he normally is. maybe it's the beers.
you're going to get killed one of these days, she says, and dirk laughs, wincing when it stretches the cut and makes it start bleeding again. it feels too real, and things like reality are slipping away into the back of his mind. ]
I'm not going to die until later. I have a while left yet.
[ he sounds so sure of himself, and she sighs and starts dabbing at a cut on his head too. you didn't have to do that, anyway she finally adds, then shakes her head. that eye's gonna bruise, darling, but you're still handsome.
the laugh this time is a little reedy, and the tips of his ears turn pink even in the low light. ]