you haven't seen it? i guess that makes sense. i don't see you hitting the showers all that often back home. dude's big on showing off, which i don't really understand. he's not exactly the pride of mother russia, if you know what i mean.
moving product. nothing so mkultra. just weed. powders. swimming through illegal channels like a stoned otter. it's awful, and i feel like a sham because he thinks i know what i'm doing, but it's keeping me fed. i've done worse for that. anyway - if you don't get a contract, it's straight to sex jail for you, as far as i can tell. once again, we're the food being eaten by the sharp, machinated teeth of a society that devalues individuality and defines worth by physical capabilities alone. leave all your moral quandaries and sexual insecurity at the door, commodify yourself, or go to prison. but hey. blowjobs.
yeah, no i already get enough of viktor's boner in weird places during hand-to-hand, not exactly jumping to hit the showers with him too
[ anyway. enough about that guy and his tiny dick. ]
but hey man, whatever keeps you full there's gotta be something else to do though if you hate it that much, right might have to sacrifice the cushy hotel room for it, but anyway. out from under one thumb just to end up right under another. perfect. great. i was already starting to miss the feeling of a boot on my neck, so glad i don't have to worry about that anymore.
[ this... is as close as he's going to get to talking about what down with his dad, probably for a while, and he moves on quickly so marcus can't say anything about it. ]
fuck all that, dude i'm not trying to end up in the boink joint or whatever but cuffing myself to someone who gets to decide everything i'm allowed and not allowed to do? gonna take a lot more than just blowjobs to make that sound like a sweet deal
if i had another option, i'd have taken it already.
[ but anyway - between getting cynical and depressed over how duplicity treats its submissives, going on and on about the guy who fucked the girl billy seemed to have a thing for, and now being flung full force into the thorny, beartrap-riddled topic of billy's fucking dad, marcus feels like he's doing a pretty awful job at helping his friend settle into the city. there's a second or two delay, and then marcus just changes topic entirely. ]
come crash at the hotel for a night or two. seriously. the floor is pretty sticky and the walls are paper thin, but we can watch shitty infomercials, listen to music, con someone out of their lunch and just relax for a while. i'll send you the address?
yeah yeah, if you're sure sounds better than what i had planned i'll see if i can grab one or two of whatever sandwich they're trying to kill us with in the caf no guarantee it'll be edible though, it didn't look very promising
oh. no. don't. that's your first lesson. there are always alternatives. don't go for the cafeteria food. i'll get you into the up, later. show you how to dumpster dive. way, way safer. i've got a stash to tie us over until then.
[ marcus has gotten used to eating the cafeteria sandwiches - he doesn't really mind cutting off the mold or second guessing what he's biting into when something that's supposed to be soft ends up making a crunch, or vice versa - but billy's got less of an iron stomach than he has. rat stew, etc.
either way, he sends out the address to some small, dinky little hotel in the down, as well as directions on how to get to his room - up the stairs, way at the back of the hall. he thinks about asking billy if he needs to be picked up from the dorm, but... well, kid's gotta learn to get around eventually. ]
there's this woman in the lobby behind the desk - broad shoulders, tattoo on her neck. she'll probably hit on you. "got a thing for the skinny ones", apparently. just try not to make eye contact. anger issues.
[ billy is actually no stranger to dumpster diving - he's done it a handful of times before, usually when his dad couldn't be bothered to come home for days on end after gambling what little money they had away, leaving his family with nothing but spoiled milk and enough bread to feed his little brother and no one else. when shoplifting was too risky, digging through the dumpsters behind upscale restaurants and bougie supermarkets got them through.
but just because he's done it before doesn't mean he's thrilled about the idea of having to do it again. billy won't complain, though - marcus has been here longer, so billy trusts he knows what he's doing when it comes to getting by in this place.
anyway, billy jots down the address - pointless, but he's still getting used to the idea of a cell phone, so it doesn't even register that he can just open his texts back up if he needs to check the address again - grabs his ugly plastic raincoat and his skateboard, and heads out. before he hits the street, though, he sends just one follow-up message. ]
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no subject
dude's big on showing off, which i don't really understand.
he's not exactly the pride of mother russia, if you know what i mean.
moving product. nothing so mkultra. just weed. powders. swimming through illegal channels like a stoned otter.
it's awful, and i feel like a sham because he thinks i know what i'm doing, but it's keeping me fed. i've done worse for that.
anyway -
if you don't get a contract, it's straight to sex jail for you, as far as i can tell.
once again, we're the food being eaten by the sharp, machinated teeth of a society that devalues individuality and defines worth by physical capabilities alone. leave all your moral quandaries and sexual insecurity at the door, commodify yourself, or go to prison.
but hey.
blowjobs.
no subject
i already get enough of viktor's boner in weird places during hand-to-hand, not exactly jumping to hit the showers with him too
[ anyway. enough about that guy and his tiny dick. ]
but hey man, whatever keeps you full
there's gotta be something else to do though if you hate it that much, right
might have to sacrifice the cushy hotel room for it, but
anyway.
out from under one thumb just to end up right under another. perfect.
great. i was already starting to miss the feeling of a boot on my neck, so glad i don't have to worry about that anymore.
[ this... is as close as he's going to get to talking about what down with his dad, probably for a while, and he moves on quickly so marcus can't say anything about it. ]
fuck all that, dude
i'm not trying to end up in the boink joint or whatever
but cuffing myself to someone who gets to decide everything i'm allowed and not allowed to do?
gonna take a lot more than just blowjobs to make that sound like a sweet deal
no subject
[ but anyway - between getting cynical and depressed over how duplicity treats its submissives, going on and on about the guy who fucked the girl billy seemed to have a thing for, and now being flung full force into the thorny, beartrap-riddled topic of billy's fucking dad, marcus feels like he's doing a pretty awful job at helping his friend settle into the city. there's a second or two delay, and then marcus just changes topic entirely. ]
come crash at the hotel for a night or two. seriously.
the floor is pretty sticky and the walls are paper thin, but we can watch shitty infomercials, listen to music, con someone out of their lunch and just relax for a while.
i'll send you the address?
no subject
yeah, if you're sure
sounds better than what i had planned
i'll see if i can grab one or two of whatever sandwich they're trying to kill us with in the caf
no guarantee it'll be edible though, it didn't look very promising
no subject
there are always alternatives. don't go for the cafeteria food.
i'll get you into the up, later. show you how to dumpster dive. way, way safer.
i've got a stash to tie us over until then.
[ marcus has gotten used to eating the cafeteria sandwiches - he doesn't really mind cutting off the mold or second guessing what he's biting into when something that's supposed to be soft ends up making a crunch, or vice versa - but billy's got less of an iron stomach than he has. rat stew, etc.
either way, he sends out the address to some small, dinky little hotel in the down, as well as directions on how to get to his room - up the stairs, way at the back of the hall. he thinks about asking billy if he needs to be picked up from the dorm, but... well, kid's gotta learn to get around eventually. ]
there's this woman in the lobby behind the desk - broad shoulders, tattoo on her neck. she'll probably hit on you. "got a thing for the skinny ones", apparently.
just try not to make eye contact.
anger issues.
no subject
but just because he's done it before doesn't mean he's thrilled about the idea of having to do it again. billy won't complain, though - marcus has been here longer, so billy trusts he knows what he's doing when it comes to getting by in this place.
anyway, billy jots down the address - pointless, but he's still getting used to the idea of a cell phone, so it doesn't even register that he can just open his texts back up if he needs to check the address again - grabs his ugly plastic raincoat and his skateboard, and heads out. before he hits the street, though, he sends just one follow-up message. ]
is she hot though?