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Jun. 24th, 2017 05:59 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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[Of all the annoying, completely useless things—
He knows he’s been on Amoi for two years. Two. And he’s seen a lot of shit in his time. He’s seen tunnel collapses, a headless man, sex school, portals to another world, what a bull’s dick looks like, and many, many more things. So why is it that the most annoying problem in his life is currently the words written on his body?
Dylas had noticed the one on his arm first. Humiliation. An inspection in the shower had revealed that he had another on his leg, the word “marking.” There was another, one on the back of his opposite leg that he can only see two letters on, though the biggest cause for alarm is the word “pet” that currently rests on his unscarred cheek. That one he hadn’t noticed until he was standing in front of a mirror, and what the hell is up with that?
At first, he thought he could’ve ignored it, but on his patrols in Ceres he’d been on the receiving end of some very untoward comments that left him wanting to punch his coworkers, but he can’t do that. Days into sporting these new tattoos, he also found his mind wandering whenever he’d find himself staring at a stranger or thinking of someone on his contact list for too long. Images flashed into his head, unwanted images of someone biting his arm or slipping a collar around his neck. He could ignore those, too, but he couldn’t ignore the mental image of a waiter making him beg for cock, nor could he ignore how he started to crave it more and more—
That’s why he calls Gyro, voice raspy, reminding him of the time he’d put his nose to work during the last festival. It’s great having someone who owes him a favor. Someone who he thinks can shut up about these kinds of things. They’d sworn secrets to each other already, even if Gyro’s was ridiculously stupid. (After the phone call, he’s not quite left with the impression that Gyro is eager to help, but he doesn’t really care). He’s heard rumors about how to get the words off, and he’s going to act on them.
As he waits in his apartment, a place he hates inviting people to, he thinks: what’s the worst that could happen?]
He knows he’s been on Amoi for two years. Two. And he’s seen a lot of shit in his time. He’s seen tunnel collapses, a headless man, sex school, portals to another world, what a bull’s dick looks like, and many, many more things. So why is it that the most annoying problem in his life is currently the words written on his body?
Dylas had noticed the one on his arm first. Humiliation. An inspection in the shower had revealed that he had another on his leg, the word “marking.” There was another, one on the back of his opposite leg that he can only see two letters on, though the biggest cause for alarm is the word “pet” that currently rests on his unscarred cheek. That one he hadn’t noticed until he was standing in front of a mirror, and what the hell is up with that?
At first, he thought he could’ve ignored it, but on his patrols in Ceres he’d been on the receiving end of some very untoward comments that left him wanting to punch his coworkers, but he can’t do that. Days into sporting these new tattoos, he also found his mind wandering whenever he’d find himself staring at a stranger or thinking of someone on his contact list for too long. Images flashed into his head, unwanted images of someone biting his arm or slipping a collar around his neck. He could ignore those, too, but he couldn’t ignore the mental image of a waiter making him beg for cock, nor could he ignore how he started to crave it more and more—
That’s why he calls Gyro, voice raspy, reminding him of the time he’d put his nose to work during the last festival. It’s great having someone who owes him a favor. Someone who he thinks can shut up about these kinds of things. They’d sworn secrets to each other already, even if Gyro’s was ridiculously stupid. (After the phone call, he’s not quite left with the impression that Gyro is eager to help, but he doesn’t really care). He’s heard rumors about how to get the words off, and he’s going to act on them.
As he waits in his apartment, a place he hates inviting people to, he thinks: what’s the worst that could happen?]