(no subject)
Jun. 23rd, 2011 06:41 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sandelwood posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
monaboyd_monthAlrighty, back for seconds. My last offering here is something I don't really do much, but I've had this image in my head for six years or so. It's not totally finished and I'm not thrilled with my coloring job, but I've run out of time and I've been known to spend several years on art projects like this, so this is what you get.
An excerpt from BTS: Chapter 4
The other man uncuffed his shirt sleeves and leaned with his back against the rail, looking along the mostly empty deck for some time before turning back. “It’s odd to see someone your age alone on one of these,” he commented. It had a nonchalant conversational ring to it, but it struck Dom that this one didn’t seem the type to speak without reason. Perhaps he thought Dom born into money, or one of those upstart internet tech blokes his age and younger that suddenly had more money that they knew what to do with. Whatever it was, it rubbed him backwards.
“How do you know I’m alone?”
The Scot shrugged, unfazed by the accusatory tone, “I don’t. But most passengers come with friends, partners. Spouses. And they’re usually happy to be here. Don’t walk around with their baggage.”
Dom snorted at the play on words, “What are you, ship’s counselor as well? Moonlighting sort of a thing?”
“Sometimes, if the occasion calls for it,” he hadn’t stopped with the vaguely amused and somehow compassionate grin, “But nah, you’ll need to see Bean, the bar man in there, if you really need someone to unload on.”
Dom searched the man’s green eyes, looking for condescension or pity and finding none. Christ, he must be coming off as the world’s most defensive prick. He pocketed the cell phone and extended a hand, “I’m Dominic. You’re William.”
“Billy,” the Scot shook with a firm grip for small, delicate hands. He leaned over conspiratorially and waggled his eyebrows, “They prefer I use William on stage. More proper, I suppose.” The sarcasm was tangible and Dom’s frown threatened to break.
“So,” Dom spoke after a few moments, turning back to the railing and leaning over to see the deck below, “Are you going to ask me why I’m here?” It was a pitiful attempt at conversation, but it was all he had.
The singer turned his eyes on him again, matte jade and with a knowing gleam that was slightly disconcerting. He shook his head once and said, “You’re here for the same reason as anyone else. To run away from your real life.”
Dom watched the black, choppy waves. That was true, of course. All the years he’d planned this, the reason had been to see the country in the most elaborate way possible, but he felt in some way removed from the experience. It didn’t feel like a holiday anymore. More like an excuse, an involuntary leave of absence from responsibility. Alice in Wonderland with the acute awareness that this was all fabricated and the real world loomed just beyond the water, where the guilt he harbored would be reflected in the faces of anyone who knew what a failure he was. Not particularly caring if Billy heard or not, he mumbled, “I think my real life followed me here.”
“Funny how it does that,” the Scot murmured in understanding. He gazed at him for a moment longer before pushing off the rail and turning on his heel. “Walk with me?” he asked.
An excerpt from BTS: Chapter 4
The other man uncuffed his shirt sleeves and leaned with his back against the rail, looking along the mostly empty deck for some time before turning back. “It’s odd to see someone your age alone on one of these,” he commented. It had a nonchalant conversational ring to it, but it struck Dom that this one didn’t seem the type to speak without reason. Perhaps he thought Dom born into money, or one of those upstart internet tech blokes his age and younger that suddenly had more money that they knew what to do with. Whatever it was, it rubbed him backwards.
“How do you know I’m alone?”
The Scot shrugged, unfazed by the accusatory tone, “I don’t. But most passengers come with friends, partners. Spouses. And they’re usually happy to be here. Don’t walk around with their baggage.”
Dom snorted at the play on words, “What are you, ship’s counselor as well? Moonlighting sort of a thing?”
“Sometimes, if the occasion calls for it,” he hadn’t stopped with the vaguely amused and somehow compassionate grin, “But nah, you’ll need to see Bean, the bar man in there, if you really need someone to unload on.”
Dom searched the man’s green eyes, looking for condescension or pity and finding none. Christ, he must be coming off as the world’s most defensive prick. He pocketed the cell phone and extended a hand, “I’m Dominic. You’re William.”
“Billy,” the Scot shook with a firm grip for small, delicate hands. He leaned over conspiratorially and waggled his eyebrows, “They prefer I use William on stage. More proper, I suppose.” The sarcasm was tangible and Dom’s frown threatened to break.
“So,” Dom spoke after a few moments, turning back to the railing and leaning over to see the deck below, “Are you going to ask me why I’m here?” It was a pitiful attempt at conversation, but it was all he had.
The singer turned his eyes on him again, matte jade and with a knowing gleam that was slightly disconcerting. He shook his head once and said, “You’re here for the same reason as anyone else. To run away from your real life.”
Dom watched the black, choppy waves. That was true, of course. All the years he’d planned this, the reason had been to see the country in the most elaborate way possible, but he felt in some way removed from the experience. It didn’t feel like a holiday anymore. More like an excuse, an involuntary leave of absence from responsibility. Alice in Wonderland with the acute awareness that this was all fabricated and the real world loomed just beyond the water, where the guilt he harbored would be reflected in the faces of anyone who knew what a failure he was. Not particularly caring if Billy heard or not, he mumbled, “I think my real life followed me here.”
“Funny how it does that,” the Scot murmured in understanding. He gazed at him for a moment longer before pushing off the rail and turning on his heel. “Walk with me?” he asked.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2011-06-24 01:27 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-24 01:57 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-24 01:55 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-24 01:57 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-24 02:09 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-24 01:57 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-24 03:55 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-24 01:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-24 04:37 am (UTC)William to soooo smooth, and Dom is so vulnerable (to William.)
XXXXXX
no subject
Date: 2011-06-24 01:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-24 05:25 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-24 01:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-24 08:49 am (UTC)Course now it means I'll need to reread the universe, it's like painting the Fourth Bridge, I just get to the end and have to start all over again - such a chore it is too! ;)
no subject
Date: 2011-06-24 02:00 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-24 10:25 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-24 02:00 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-25 02:37 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-26 10:35 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-28 03:57 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-29 01:21 am (UTC)