Kit (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
pryde_and_grit) wrote2009-07-17 06:21 am
pryde_and_grit) wrote2009-07-17 06:21 am
Boy's gotta play
Lockheed's tail twitched as he watched Logan go off into the bar. 'Stay here' the man had said 'No lizards allowed' he'd said. Just because the feral man was bigger didn't mean that Lockheed had to listen now did it? It'd serve the man right if the 'lizard' stopped looking after him! And stopped looking after the motorcycle. It wasn't going anywhere without the keys...
...keys which Lockheed had snagged. He chortled to himself and slipped down off the bike, keys in one claw as he began to poke around. There was probably another door into the bar...
Along the side? It was a pretty clean alley, all things considered. Fewer things to climb over was best (he didn't like the weird downdrafts so he wasn't going to risk flying in there), though those...those had definitely been legs. Lockheed paused, perched on several layers of clothing over a knee to peer into the shadows where a head should be. He wasn't discounting the possibility opf a headless person, but...
"Ooooweee. Lookit you! Damn, musta been some good tequila this morning! You're purple. Man, that's just...you're a purple dragon thingy. Gee I hope you ain't a rat..."
Lockheed huffed, smoke curling from his nostrils as the man kept rambling. Oh man...it was a broken human. One of Isobel's toys had done the noise-nonsense words thing. Kit had hit a reset button! This guy had to have one somewhere...
"Ohhh, hey, that's my pocket. You rollin me little dragon thing? Shit, all I got's...ummm...dunno. Heyyyy, my deck of cards..."
'Heed paused, startled as the man reached down to pluck the pack from his talons.
"Heyyyy, you got you some keys! Tell you what. I know you're in my head an shit but...I'll play you for them? Betcha somethin in my pocket each round of poker okay?"
He knew that game. Kit had taught him a while back. It helped pass the time when neither of them could sleep! "Pokerrrr." he hissed, agreeing.
"And you talk. Well..alright then. Um, I'll deal..."
By the third hand Lockheed had a nice cigar like the ones Logan wouldn't give him. By the fifth hand they had another player as the dishboy came out for his break. By the twelfth hand he was really wondering if his winning would fit in the motorcycle bags. Well, if they didn't...he still had a cigar.
Tasty cigar.
...keys which Lockheed had snagged. He chortled to himself and slipped down off the bike, keys in one claw as he began to poke around. There was probably another door into the bar...
Along the side? It was a pretty clean alley, all things considered. Fewer things to climb over was best (he didn't like the weird downdrafts so he wasn't going to risk flying in there), though those...those had definitely been legs. Lockheed paused, perched on several layers of clothing over a knee to peer into the shadows where a head should be. He wasn't discounting the possibility opf a headless person, but...
"Ooooweee. Lookit you! Damn, musta been some good tequila this morning! You're purple. Man, that's just...you're a purple dragon thingy. Gee I hope you ain't a rat..."
Lockheed huffed, smoke curling from his nostrils as the man kept rambling. Oh man...it was a broken human. One of Isobel's toys had done the noise-nonsense words thing. Kit had hit a reset button! This guy had to have one somewhere...
"Ohhh, hey, that's my pocket. You rollin me little dragon thing? Shit, all I got's...ummm...dunno. Heyyyy, my deck of cards..."
'Heed paused, startled as the man reached down to pluck the pack from his talons.
"Heyyyy, you got you some keys! Tell you what. I know you're in my head an shit but...I'll play you for them? Betcha somethin in my pocket each round of poker okay?"
He knew that game. Kit had taught him a while back. It helped pass the time when neither of them could sleep! "Pokerrrr." he hissed, agreeing.
"And you talk. Well..alright then. Um, I'll deal..."
By the third hand Lockheed had a nice cigar like the ones Logan wouldn't give him. By the fifth hand they had another player as the dishboy came out for his break. By the twelfth hand he was really wondering if his winning would fit in the motorcycle bags. Well, if they didn't...he still had a cigar.
Tasty cigar.