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Groups: Moderators, Registered Joined: 18/02/2011(UTC) Posts: 27,827 Location: In between the couch cushions Thanks: 11223 times Was thanked: 19293 time(s) in 7678 post(s)
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"If a mirelurk comes scuttling along these hallways, I'm breaking the sound barrier with my scream and then suing you for every penny you have, Erich. I've been a backseat driver to many of Dallas' games. I know how this works. We're gonna need some stimpaks at the ready." Dustyn's husband has seemingly carved out a new career for himself in the streaming world. Although many look down their nose at it, it's far more stable income wise than it is being in a punk pop band in 2022. Of course, many overzealous Juneau fans still hate Dustyn's guts and think he purposely split them up. Dustyn takes out his phone and begins snapping pictures almost immediately after stepping into the studio. "Wow, I love this space! It...it doesn't look like this at the Pesky studios, I can tell you that much." Dustyn begins to explore and checks out the enormous mixing board, lightly glossing his fingers over to surface so not to mess anything up. "I'm guessing this didn't come from Sweetwater Sound, huh?" Dustyn makes his way over to the eye-catching couch while continuing to look around in awe of the space. He's fairly sure Mercedes travelled back in time and got some of this stuff for him. "So..." Dustyn begins as he opens up the tin and grabs his bank card, ready to create some beautiful lines. "When are you and I gonna record something together?" Dustyn and Erich are both very different artists with very different voices but he's still sure it could work due to their bond and love of music.
"Oh, you prefer barefoot?" Dustyn purses his lips and nods in acknowledgement before slipping out of his flip-flops and placing his bare feet up on the boomerang shaped table. He tries his best to look all smug and commanding, like a dom master showing his bare soles off to a submissive Erich but there's an obvious pained expression in his face. Dustyn's short legs struggle to stretch from the couch to the table, his heels just making the edge and no more. "OK, ouch." Dustyn grimaces and puts his legs down, sitting forward on the couch again. As Erich thought earlier, Dustyn takes off his shirt and throws it over the arm of the couch. If you're going to do cocaine, best do it properly. Sat without a shirt or socks, a huge bruise on his ribs and about to do coke in the dank, lower levels of an old ship, you wouldn't think Dustyn has a multi-million dollar net worth. Dustyn closes his eyes and shakes his head in disappointment after Erich's fart. "Ghastly. Imagine farting like that in front of someone? This world is going to Hell in a handbasket!" They both know fine well that Dustyn is no stranger to letting one go. The first time they met, Dustyn visibly cocked his leg up and let out one of the loudest, wettest sounding farts in the history of man and then proceeded to act like nothing happened.
"Now, you know fine well you're packing more than Deneil's button mushroom. Are you just looking for compliments, Erich? 'Cause I'll happily hand them out!" Dustyn chuckles and smiles sweetly across the table. He's happy to hype up his friends over anything whether it's a career achievement or just having a wonderful body. "Minnie, you wanna ride this Steamboat Willie huh-ha?!" Dustyn casually does a frightening good Mickey Mouse impression like it was nothing, keeping his head down as he sorts out a line. It was freakishly spot on. He often unnerves people with how he assimilates sounds so easily. Dustyn's an alien. Confirmed. Totally nothing to do with how insanely vocally talented he is our how his autistic mind works. He's otherworldly. "Oddly, that was Blake at his calmest." Dustyn begins, casually slipping back into his regular voice. "I didn't question the gun thing too much. Thought it was weird, yeah, but also thought it was just an off-the-cuff thing. He hadn't really expressed any sort of love for guns or any weird, right wing stances at that point. All that came out the woodwork down the line. Put myself in a really scary position when I think about it. That thing was loaded." Again, in a very casual and detached manner, Dustyn reveals he could have very well had his brains blown out and not in a fun way.
Dustyn takes a note out of his wallet and rolls it up while simultaneously getting down on his knees to lean at the table. He's too short to successfully lean across from the comfort of the couch. "Teatime!" Dustyn vacuums up a line with ease then offers out the rolled up 20 to Erich as he rubs his nostrils. He knows it's not Erich's drug of choice but it's nice to offer, especially as it's his own damn supply. |
WEEKEND: BILLY • DUSTYN • OSCAR • RILEY • SCOTT PUBLIC WARNING: BEAU • CARTER LEE • JAKE • MYLES • ZANDER THE STAT NERDS: BRIAN • CHRISTOPHER THE ZONE: BLAKE • CHRIS • JASON • LIAM
JOSHUA GRIMMIE • LINCOLN • LAYLA • MERCEDES • MICHELLE GREEN ANDREA • DENEIL • CHICAGO NOBODY • BLOOM • SONNY • VICTORIA BLACK REUBEN • ELLIE-GRACE SUMMERS • ALFIE SUMMERS • MICAH DELISLE JAMIE JACKSON • KONSTANTIN • FAYETTE • SAYYID |