His own carcinogen was slid into turned lips, both arms then free to wave in an attempt to calm the frenetic tone and volume; He’d been given every option to change the face of the body he woke up in for a life of quiet anonymity, but instead chose the risky notion of being “me”-
Her tanned face contorted into a disgusted expression. It was rare to see people comment on her smell and not notice what was almost an aura of sandalwood, cedar and myrrh, and it was almost insulting to her to witness.
But this time Anubia could not react to the impulse.~
Despite the risks.
“Alright, alright, Choomba.” He chuckled before pulling the brim of the man’s hate down to distract into silence.
“Ain’t signin no body parts, though. C’mon.”
The fumbling, and pungently scented vagrant quickly pulled a scrap of paper free, but stared wide-
He’d resigned to looking up at the borderline gaudy trim of the door when his old compatriot answered, and his own face turned into a momentary lapse of ubiquitous cool, quickly coughed back to fruition with a side grin.
“Well, it ain’t that Minaj bitch, though that ass is-
and kerry's reaction was a whole other can of worms entirely .
he'd pictured this moment in his head plenty of times . had dreamed about it many times .
but actually seeing johnny when he opened the door .ᐣ his first instinct was to +++
“Only a problem when shit’s giving that familiar sting of not knowing what part of me’s real.”
Notably, he avoided eye contact. After a short pause, Johnny finally straightened out and ran a hand along his chin; The last memory he held of her was a conflicted one, but the parts-
A stern look of her own, she was... not easily amused. Yet she also respects this man, he kept rock alive so she cant be too mean... probably.
"Yeah well choom i got digging to do, a lot of info here i can use for what I need, you got an issue?"
Her new yorker accent slipping.
Of his memory he actually trusted told him all he needed to know: Despite the pitfalls, twists and turns, the situation had been rectified.
He only questioned why she’d shed aside the sanctity of her freedom to wade back into the mire. As such, he raised a brow and added.
An uneven figure 8 around her head and torso.
“Kinda stagger that’s sweet as a kiss in the militar-“
“JOHNNY SILVERHAND?!” A suddenly sharp voice made him wince as the disheveled old coot turned back and grabbed him by the shoulders.
“AINT NO WAY, CHOOM! Samuraiiii.”
A rambunctious snort was her initial response, and as a small figure draped in rags shambled past, Johnny glanced up from his boots to her with a raised brow.
“You smell like helibird sweat, bad MRE’s and bougie smokes.” His mechanical index and middle fingers motioned in-
Egyptian took a slow drag, creating a dramatic pause as if to accentuate her words. Exhale came through the speech, letting the cloud of smoke linger longer.
"Sixty-sixes.
~But I'm no gearhead, prefe𝓇𝓇 to hire z'em instead. 'Least I don't get bullet holes over my own vheels"
Looking up from his thoughts, Johnny glanced back to @FlySongBirds and scoffed.
“Been having fucked up dreams, even tried not going to bed high. Something told me it’d be you who showed.”
He turned back to the shoddy table, putting out the cigarette. “You diggin in there, huh?”