BWI Airport, Portalocity Lounge

[rebelseekspizza]

It was That Time Of Year again. At BWI airport, they knew well that this was not the kind of thing you wanted to be asking questions about. So when a teenage boy showed up wearing a ratty long red-and-black coat, an expression that blazed hell and a large series of bleeding scratches on his face, well, they didn't ask. About anything.

Dante didn't mind. It meant he could walk into the nice warm Portalocity lounge and crash on one of the benches. Had to sleep off the day he'd had... yesterday? Was it yesterday now? Who cared.

By the time he jerked back awake about an hour later, the scratches had vanished and his expression had gone sleepy, though the ratty coat remained. He sat up, rubbing at his eyes. Guess he wasn't alone anymore, huh? Fine, whatever. "Who knew the public still showed up for transport?"

Comments

Re: The Trip to Fandom

[vdistinctive]

"Well, there's no accountin' for taste."

Re: The Trip to Fandom

[halfaclink.livejournal.com]

"Or smell. Or sight. Or touch, really," Frank said. "When you get right down to it, only one sense survived the cup without mild trauma."

Re: The Trip to Fandom

[vdistinctive]

He wasn't going to ask.

"The hell you talkin' about?"

Okay, he was apparently going to ask.

Re: The Trip to Fandom

[halfaclink.livejournal.com]

"Their beer was really that bad," Frank said with a shrug before taking a drink. "I would not recommend it."

Re: The Trip to Fandom

[vdistinctive]

Eliot snorted. "You should taste the crap my partner brewed up, when he first got started. Or worse, his damn orange soda wine."

Re: The Trip to Fandom

[halfaclink.livejournal.com]

"I'd rather not," Frank said after a moment. YOU WERE NOT MAKING IT SOUND APPEALING, ELIOT.

Re: The Trip to Fandom

[vdistinctive]

"Good plan," Eliot said. "Though it probably won't smell as bad as Bigfoot's booze."