skeletons we hide — bastian. & nylon. [blitz]
Oct 14, 2021 3:32:25 GMT -5
Post by napoleon, d2m ₊⊹ 🐁 ɢʀɪғғɪɴ. on Oct 14, 2021 3:32:25 GMT -5
“I have a dumpster dad,” he said, then amended with a quick chuckle: “had.”
Stars painted the night sky above them all sparkly but their light was none so brighter than the city’s, which faced them with all its fluorescent might. It felt peaceful. It was peaceful. At least for now. Thanks to all the Frays before him, he had a vague idea of how long this peace would last and for someone so used to chaos, Bastion was almost sad about it.
Almost.
“What about you?” he prompted, turning towards Nylon. They shouldn’t be here – fucking rules or something – but man, they deserve their rooftop moment, too. He’d convinced himself over and over again that he could give less of a fuck about Nylon Gingham and yet he knew better than he wished he did. This girl, with all her splendor and white-teethed grins, was his only piece of home. Bastian liked his home. Bastian liked how fucked up and false it was, district one’s gilded mask of luxury and grandiosity, but most importantly, he loved scraping the veneer off to reveal the crap beneath.
If he did the same to Nylon, what would he find?
His next question was an attempt to find out.
“Any dumpster dads? Any dumpster men in general in your life?” Another chuckle escaped him. “Probably thousands. We, like, collectively fucking suck as a species. Is that the right word?”
Stars painted the night sky above them all sparkly but their light was none so brighter than the city’s, which faced them with all its fluorescent might. It felt peaceful. It was peaceful. At least for now. Thanks to all the Frays before him, he had a vague idea of how long this peace would last and for someone so used to chaos, Bastion was almost sad about it.
Almost.
“What about you?” he prompted, turning towards Nylon. They shouldn’t be here – fucking rules or something – but man, they deserve their rooftop moment, too. He’d convinced himself over and over again that he could give less of a fuck about Nylon Gingham and yet he knew better than he wished he did. This girl, with all her splendor and white-teethed grins, was his only piece of home. Bastian liked his home. Bastian liked how fucked up and false it was, district one’s gilded mask of luxury and grandiosity, but most importantly, he loved scraping the veneer off to reveal the crap beneath.
If he did the same to Nylon, what would he find?
His next question was an attempt to find out.
“Any dumpster dads? Any dumpster men in general in your life?” Another chuckle escaped him. “Probably thousands. We, like, collectively fucking suck as a species. Is that the right word?”
