Thread: How to Ride a Night Mare [Quin x heartless]

The wind rustled through her hair as she pedaled her li-ped down the road, the faded purplish locks swept over her shoulders making her feel like she was flying. And why shouldn't she? She was smitten! Just moments before, a hot motherfucker had walked into the kippie craft store where she worked part-time and he talked to her! Old, geeky, artsy-fartsy Dorito who everyone thought was weird! Not that she cared what anyone else thought, of course, but surely this guy had heard of her and knew to stay away! But he hadn't, or he had and didn't give a fuck either. So he talked to her. Even after she casually threatened to shove him down a bunch of stairs and eat his face. A guy who stuck around and saw through that had to be special, right? Not likely, since guys were dorks. But the fact that he'd played back was what caught Dorito's eye, made her look twice. It's also what made her tepidly agree to going out with him some time. Well, the actual words she'd used were you're fucking weird and you smell like puke but still, he'd gotten her meaning and told her when he'd pick her up tomorrow. At first, she had no fucking idea what the hell had happened but once he was gone and she understood, she couldn't stop smiling about it. She had a date! She had to tell Star right away! The springtime air was cool and moist but the sun was warm enough that she wasn't too cold in her leggings while riding fast on her li-ped. Like a mopedscooter with lighted wheels, propelled by sunlight and happy thoughts, it was a kippie invention and the latest transportation for the high school crowd. Flying high as she was, the machine was filled with random bursts of speed, the wheels flashing with crisp, white light, coinciding with every time Dorito felt her heart do another air flip inside her chest. She was barely steering the damn thing, lifting her arms off the handle-bars to fling them out like wings, tipping her head back in euphoria. Just then an auto caught up behind her, the driver pressing a quick annoyed hand on their horn, forcing Dori to right herself and swerve out of the way with sputtered giggles over her foolishness. Turning up the Riddell's driveway with a lazy curve, Dori slowed down past the mailbox and stepped off the base of her ped, the wheels growing dark without her bliss to fuel it's light. Turning her head away from the front windows of the house, Dori sucked a couple last toxic puffs from her ciggo, holding it daintily between her first two fingers, her pointer finger black with the corruption she was born with. Not wanting to discard it in the driveway, since it might get her or Star in trouble if it was found, Dorito tucked the spent ciggo into a hidden box in the yard that she and Alex made when they were little. It'd been everything from a robot companion to a treasure box and it bore signs of each of the different games and stories the girls used it for over the years. Now they used it to hide their ciggos when they were done sucking down on those poisonous fumes, to keep from getting caught since neither of their parents would approve. Especially not Mr. Riddell who had a big campaign last year trying to make ciggos illegal since kids were smoking them. He wasn't Mayor of Green River anymore, though, so, it'd merely turned into a tax to hopefully dissuade youngsters like Dori from purchasing them. Fat chance. Folding up her li-ped as she approached the door, Dorito tucked her purplish-brown hair behind her ear and held her vehicle under her arm like a notebook before knocking on the Riddell's front door. Mr. Eric, one of Star's dads, answered and he scowled at her as he looked her up and down. 'Sup, Mr. Erk! Dori greeted brightly, using the nickname Peaches started. The psychopomp only called him that unintentionally when he was angry but still, Dori took it up as a passive-aggressive disrespect. Star around? For fuck's sake, Dorito, Eric sneered, showing her his crooked teeth in a disapproving grimace. What the fuck are you wearing? See more Dorito made a show of looking down at herself and the leggings she wore, her purple hair flopping in front of her face. Generally, they were skin colored, but in the upper thighs, they depicted her flesh cut open and peeling away from the muscle underneath, bloody and dribbling down the knees, looking like very realistic wounds on her legs. She had shorts on over top to show them off in all their gruesome glory. Uh... leggings? she asked innocently, blinking at him like he was retarded. Are you shitting me? he huffed, itching at the blonde bun at the nape of his neck. You look like you got tore the fuck up by some psycho. It's fucking gross. Does Brownie know you're wearing that shit? That's the point, Dori rolled her eyes, adjusting her nose ring nervously at mention of her mom as she stepped inside and he closed the door behind her. I'm not a sexual object. I'm not here to pander to anybody's hormones. It's supposed to freak you out, to drive away the dirt bags gawking at my legs. Speaking of... she turned in a sweet circle at the base of the stairs and gave him a smartass grin. Scaring you , is it? Mission accomplished. Eric was barely paying attention to her little spiel, and itching the side of his nose casually, he turned from her with a shake of his head. I'm calling your ma, he grunted, leaving her to jog up the steps to Star's room. Knocking on Star's door at the end of the hall, Dori let herself in with a word from her friend inside. In the privacy of Star's room, Dori's eyes got a manic light as she excitedly tossed her shit down and held her hands up bracingly. You will not believe what happened to me today! she said in a burst. Seriously! Like, monumental!