Had his intentions of eventually killing her not so plain, she might have found him charming in his refusal to take her seriously as anything more than a small time thief who was going to make off with his cut. But it told her one thing she needed to know: Dean held on to things he considered to be his for dear life, be they material or emotional. What out of the two the Madre, the casino, was to him she didn’t know yet, but his focus was becoming a problem.
Silently, she turned around to walk away and brought her arm up, switching between tabs on her pip-boy. It looked like she had come to some vital conclusion. Dean had noticed this too and when she quickly, not to say furiously, started typing across the keys he gripped her arm and brought the pip-boy’s screen to his face.
“‘Note to self: take off that poster of ‘King of Swing’ from the wall,’” he read in a little menu labeled as ‘NOTES’. These words piqued his interest immediately, and brought a sensation to his dissolute heart the kind he hadn’t felt in a while. He laughed, the previous tension shattered. “So they did survive, as well! And how’s that for a pleasant surprise? I didn’t picture you as a fan,” he managed between chuckles. She wasn’t. Patiently, and with great effort, she stayed silent but this news had brought amusement and heightened his spirit, so he pressed on in a most devious manner he could imagine. “Is it signed?”
Yes. As a matter of fact it was. And framed. And behind bulletproof glass. And Mr. New Vegas took liking to playing some of Domino’s songs more often than it was humane. But she wasn’t going to tell him any of that, oh no, because that would turn him from merely pompous to nigh insufferable. One was harder to deal with than the other.
“The previous owner of the flat had a thing for you, so don’t flatter yourself on my account.”
It didn’t help, because he did flatter himself. The world outside hadn’t forgotten about Dean Domino, not like they did Vera Keys. His fame might have faded, got trashed and buried under sand, and under general impression that he was dead, might simply be overlooked as the Old World curiosity. But he had not disappeared; the memory of him had not turned to dust and ashes. All right, so Danny Parker was among the bunch of surviving wall-stickers, but that bastard wasn’t alive now and he could do nothing to prevent Dean from tearing every single one of them on his track across the world – provided he chose to take some time off his busy schedule and waste it by doing so.
He grinned widely, not bothering to hide the satisfaction this news had brought to him. He looked at the postman, a woman wrapped left and right in armour thick enough to stop bullets, if not knives. The Courier had delivered him some great news indeed.
Scoffing but satisfied that the ghoul was pacified and would finally stay in one place, presumingly smoking like a chimney, Guilty stepped away from him and not looking back disappeared down the street and into the Cloud. When she got back to Lucky 38, and she was getting home, over Elijah’s and everyone else’s cold bodies if needed be, that poster was coming off of her wall. If Sierra Madre thought her anything, it was that the last thing she wanted was a grinning Dean Domino watching her sleep.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
timeasmymeasure
F!Courier/Dean Domino - A Heist - 8c
Date: 2013-05-03 09:54 am (UTC)Silently, she turned around to walk away and brought her arm up, switching between tabs on her pip-boy. It looked like she had come to some vital conclusion. Dean had noticed this too and when she quickly, not to say furiously, started typing across the keys he gripped her arm and brought the pip-boy’s screen to his face.
“‘Note to self: take off that poster of ‘King of Swing’ from the wall,’” he read in a little menu labeled as ‘NOTES’. These words piqued his interest immediately, and brought a sensation to his dissolute heart the kind he hadn’t felt in a while. He laughed, the previous tension shattered. “So they did survive, as well! And how’s that for a pleasant surprise? I didn’t picture you as a fan,” he managed between chuckles. She wasn’t. Patiently, and with great effort, she stayed silent but this news had brought amusement and heightened his spirit, so he pressed on in a most devious manner he could imagine. “Is it signed?”
Yes. As a matter of fact it was. And framed. And behind bulletproof glass. And Mr. New Vegas took liking to playing some of Domino’s songs more often than it was humane. But she wasn’t going to tell him any of that, oh no, because that would turn him from merely pompous to nigh insufferable. One was harder to deal with than the other.
“The previous owner of the flat had a thing for you, so don’t flatter yourself on my account.”
It didn’t help, because he did flatter himself. The world outside hadn’t forgotten about Dean Domino, not like they did Vera Keys. His fame might have faded, got trashed and buried under sand, and under general impression that he was dead, might simply be overlooked as the Old World curiosity. But he had not disappeared; the memory of him had not turned to dust and ashes. All right, so Danny Parker was among the bunch of surviving wall-stickers, but that bastard wasn’t alive now and he could do nothing to prevent Dean from tearing every single one of them on his track across the world – provided he chose to take some time off his busy schedule and waste it by doing so.
He grinned widely, not bothering to hide the satisfaction this news had brought to him. He looked at the postman, a woman wrapped left and right in armour thick enough to stop bullets, if not knives. The Courier had delivered him some great news indeed.
Scoffing but satisfied that the ghoul was pacified and would finally stay in one place, presumingly smoking like a chimney, Guilty stepped away from him and not looking back disappeared down the street and into the Cloud. When she got back to Lucky 38, and she was getting home, over Elijah’s and everyone else’s cold bodies if needed be, that poster was coming off of her wall. If Sierra Madre thought her anything, it was that the last thing she wanted was a grinning Dean Domino watching her sleep.