Deer Country IC Inbox

[righthemisphere]

You've reached Raleigh Becket, please leave a message.

Comments

[righthemisphere]

"Twenty nine in a few weeks but I was robbed a year 'cuz'a when I came to Deerington. So like.. twenty eight twice?"

S h r u g!! Who knows, not him.

"And I mean. I woulda taken the eighties. Forties were fascinating but I'm gay as fuck and that is a solid no bueno"

[venatoris]

"Yeah...I feel that. I was thirty five when I got here and now I'm....barely...thirty? I don't know. It's weird."

It's hard, not to blame Cas for getting the spell wrong. Of all people, he should know what the fuck he's doing, right? And yet.

And yet.

"Y--" He barks a laugh, surprised at the phrasing, but nnnot so much at the content. That's obvious.

"Yeah, that's fair." Raleigh's so....comfortable with it. Dean isn't gay gay, but he aint straight, and he's definitely banging a dude, so.

[righthemisphere]

Look it's the product of a year of very hard work that he's been so flippant. A year and a joint of very strong weed. Fuck he's so.. wheee

He laughs, glancing over with bright eyes. So, you know. You and Cas. You're in good company out here in nowhereville with all the other weaponized rainbows.

"Forget the forties, let's go twenties. Zoot suits and a real fedora, film noir style. Big coat, fast car. I'd drive a rolls Phantom first edition.. maybe I'd be a spy."

[venatoris]

Thank god he's out here with all the other dudes who like it up the duff. Back home...God. He's just grateful his dad will never know.

"Man...I'd be a mobster, for sure. Pinstripes, and...the 20s were great but I want a 1934 Voisin C15 Saloit Roadster. Sleek, beautiful. Black, obviously."

[righthemisphere]

"C15 roadster..," he has to think about that for a second.

"That's the coupe, right? Convertible?"

[venatoris]

He sighs, wistful.

"Yeah. Long nose, sleek look, drop top. Gorgeous car."

[righthemisphere]

"I would."

Have one. Fuck one. Either/or. If it's the car he's thinking of? Absolutely.

"I could see you in that. Welcome to my office, Dean."

They get to the heap behind the barn and Raleigh sets down their beer before presenting his array of smashing implements to choose from. What will it be, the classic steel pipe? Crowbar? Baseball bat?

[venatoris]

You'd fuck a car, huh Raleigh?

"Damn, this is great." He sets the bottle he's holding down by Raleigh's, and he'll opt for the crowbar. Go with what you know, right?

[righthemisphere]

Don't pretend for a second that you wouldn't.

"Not bad, huh," he says and goes for the bat. It's his favourite.

"Age before beauty, Dean."

Accompanied with a grin and a gesture.

[venatoris]

"Please," he scoffs, laughing as he steps forward. "I got what, a year on you, tops?"

But he'll take the opportunity and heft the crowbar in his hands, stepping forward, fingers wrapped tight around metal.

[righthemisphere]

"As if, boomer. December 11th, 19~98~~," Raleigh quips back with triumph, knowing full well it doesn't count- but he's from the future baybeee~

[venatoris]

"Okay, I'm still only thirty," he says, pointing the bar at Raleigh with a laugh.

"And I'm GenX, thanks."

[righthemisphere]

"Z," he points to himself before picking up an empty bottle, tossing it into the air, and smashing it like a home run.

"You're old enough to be my dad is what I hear you saying."

Entirely kidding. Man, it feels good. Like he's high as shit but he feels good. Loose. Playful.

[venatoris]

Scoff.

"I am thirty," he says with a snort, reaching for a bottle himself to smash up.

[righthemisphere]

"I'm tHiRtY~"