We Are Bulletproof

Loud, obnoxious music? Check. Strobing light effects? Check. Hot dudes dancing around scantily clad? Check. Also naked men? Check. This was the club to visit when one wanted to get off with another man. Dakota personally found himself rather... fluid sexually. Man, woman, trans in either direction, whatever. He'd have sex with any interested party because life sucked and he was going to die anyway. At least if he died that way, it would be fun. Interesting.

Texting that number on the bathroom wall was a gamble. Dakota didn't even know why he did it. There was no reason to protect anybody, especially some nobody he didn't even know. But whomever wrote it, definitely wrote it out of revenge. They were pissed at Alejandro. For a tease with a tiny dick, call: And then the number. But there was also a small insignia next to it, a hallmark of a trophy hunter.

That was the real reason Dakota got in touch with him. Why would he have a trophy hunter on his ass? The insignia was not the same as the nasty note. They were separate. But they were meant for the same person.

Strange.

Dakota liked things like this, though. It piqued his interest and at least when he was interested, he wasn't thinking about what it would be like to die.

Stepping past two bouncing, dancing idiots, Dakota headed up to the bar, where Alejandro said he'd meet him. Dakota was dressed to kill; his preference ran toward black and maroon. He liked heavy, dark colors. Some called him goth. He didn't give a fuck about labels. But yeah, he was wearing mostly black. Leather jacket, leather calf-length boots, form fitting black pants (not leather, thanks), and a form fitting black t-shirt with a low neckline to show off his silver chain.

Dakota recognized Alejandro right away. He caught his eye the night he showed up in a mesh top and pants so tight that they could have been painted on.

"Alejandro!" he called out, throwing his arms out. "It's me! Kota!"

Hey, you

Just a heads up, you've got some enemies in Hazleton.

@Alejandro Riviera

FUCK DUDE
THAT GUY WE RAN INTO LAST NIGHT WAS PART OF THE FUCKING JADE DRAGONFLIES.
ABORT
ABORT

It wasn't like he was even hanging out at some popping club or some shit. Actually, he was hanging out in the Night Owl, which was a little quieter than Kota's sensibilities. It had good food--he had some appetizer platter and a plain beer in front of him while he waited impatiently for his best friend to show up.

Dakota hated being alone. There used to be a time where it was all he wanted. He'd been one of those emotionally fucked guys who didn't want people getting too fucking close. Emotionally. Sometimes physically, too. Okay, a lot with the physical thing but he'd been learning a lot about himself these days. Not because he'd been seeing a therapist or some dumb shit like that. He didn't believe in that--what was talking to some stranger going to do to fix his problems?

But he thought things might have been growing better between himself and his little brother, all the way up until things just... stopped. Dakota was tired of being the one in the family people worried about and didn't trust. At the same time, he couldn't fight the person he was. He was reckless. He liked to get into a fight sometimes. He liked the rush of gambling away his money. He loved laughing in the moonlight while he zoomed down the streets on his moped as fast as he could from irate loan sharks.

One day, it would all catch up with him. He was pretty sure it wasn't now, though. Not in this little quiet tavern with the quiet bartender and the moody music. Kinda made Dakota itch all the more, to be honest.

He told himself that tonight was the night, the night when he'd stop pussyfooting around and say something. To Axel. To... his best friend, that might not take it so good but might just laugh it off. Hard to say, really. He couldn't puss out though. That was the thing. Dakota had, like, one of those life epiphanies last night and it meant crashing through walls to make sure the people involved knew too.

Or person. 'Cause in this case, it was a person.

Down the hatch with the beer--Dakota wrinkled his nose. Not bad beer, by half, but beer was not what he wanted. Dragging his phone out of his pocket, he checked the time. Come on, come on, Ax. He had to be outta there by NOW for sure.

@Arceus

heeeeeey
Haxorus, you awake yet?
it's like 5 already and i'm itching

@Arceus (Gonna start with comm so we can throw them together in a proper thread after we get a feel for 'em together.)