✦ - *⁎ Ft | Tobias . - Blog Posts

a certain restlessness has taken root in damon's bones. insurmountable energy that just couldn't be placed. maybe it was because their hands were empty ( except for their take-out piece of toast ) and the day unfulfilling in every possible way. what the average citizen of redcreek doesn't expect out of damon was how money driven they were. likely, they'd pick up just about any job. taxi service, weekender at the diner, the bar, the warehouse ... anything to add weight to his pockets. well, maybe they do. they're everywhere. also nowhere. a hard little mouse to keep track of, but a mouse after cheese nonetheless.

they're chewing with a spacy eyes, looking towards the bustling customers headed towards the car or down the street. recalls some of the faces: tyler, from the gas station. dwayne, a mid shifter getting off work from the diner, priscilla or miss. priss from the tenth fucking grade. faces and faces they'd seen from their lifelong stay in the creek. what pulls them back down to earth is the loud, recognizable voice of none other than tobias northcott. a pause of their chewing, a squint of their eyes. " what, think i'm not suitable for the public, northcott? " northcott in return for short - streak.

" think your temperature is running a bit too high there. it's fucking nipply. " they return to their piece of toast, tongue chasing the grape jelly from the side of their mouth. tobias, a goddamn blunder of a newcomer. well, not really new anymore, but maybe they will be again. also everywhere and nowhere. must be why they keep rubbing shoulders. if damon were a different person, maybe like kieran, they'd be questioning what tobias got up to in the dead oof night. thumb to mouth, releases it with an obnoxious little ' pop! ' the silence is dragged on to be just as obnoxious, dramatic. " i got a better question for you. the hell you tryin' to trip into? good standings with the waitresses? "

closed starter: @c0nnectdots — damon del valle . located @ dolly's diner & in the surrounding circumference .

arriving  in  town  for  the quintessential  american  breakfast  means  that  his  taste  buds  are  open.  he  adapts.  he  blends.  (  actually,  this  just  means  that  dolly's  is  the  easiest  place  to  go  after  an  all  -  nighter.  )  but  who  pulls  that  kind  of  thing?  no  circles  under  his  eyes,  no  bedhead,  no  lackadaisical  jacket  —  surely  not  him.  (  it's  him.  )  tobias,  hands  stuffed  in  the  pockets  of  his  canary  -  yellow  letterman,  blisters  about  as  obnoxious  as  an  off  -  key  warbler  as  he  coaxes  his  way  across  the  diner  parking  lot.  hey,  hey,  how's  it  going?  felix,  right?  because  he  remembers  those  brazen  enough  to  knock  their  heads  getting  to  his  dj  booth  on  a  busy,  whirring  night.  he  remembers  them,  all  the  way  down  to  the  cut  of  their  jaw  —  and  the  distinct  upturned  curl  of  their  hair  —  and  the  way  ink  ribbons  follow  their  shoulders  —

fuck,  what  the  fuck  is  damon  doing  here?  disguised:  he  releases  felix's  shoulders  and  aims  both  guns,  they're  both  made  of  fingers,  in  damon's  direction.  “no  way!”  smile  already  curling  around  the  greeting.  “well,  well.  fancy  seeing  you  here,  short  -  streak.  what  kinda  meet  -  cute  bullshit  are  we  tripping  our  way  into?”  his  steps  were  quick  before;  they  quicken  further.  golden  retriever  bounding,  wolf  in  sheep's  clothing  grinning,  it's  all  the  same  after  the  eleventh  hour. "least you deserve, after all this not - so - radical heat burning the shit outta your neck."