Post by Dion on Jun 21, 2022 22:52:53 GMT -5
A tired set of eyes slowly opened as the crow of an similarly exhausted sounding rooster echoed throughout the expanse of the early morning hour. Only to be immediately replaced by the joyful (yet still very much tired) gaze of a working youth's near endless vigor as the sun outside the window rose to seemingly meet the young man's now cheerful looking gaze.
Dion Haddock, while still not overly fond of the fact that he had somehow found himself upon the planet that had been home to the entirety of his childhood trauma, was determined to make lemons into lemonade- dead-set on making the best out of a less than desirable situation. Despite him knowing he could probably leave whenever he felt the need to do so, Dion didn't like the idea of leaving his little brother Carro to his own devices for too long (especially when considering his less than combat ready stature in contrast to the combative atmosphere Plant housed the boys within). So, as he awaited Carro's call to finally corral the two back toward terra firma, Dion, as always, wanted to keep himself at least a teensy bit busy.
It wasn't very hard to quench that thirst for work either, seeing as Plant offered a plethora of bars, taverns, and hostelries that complimented his bartending experience. Nor did it take very long for Dion to make his choice, since pickiness was a word absent in his vocabulary. His bar, pun intended, was set to the bare minimum- as long as they had an agreeable enough atmosphere and the tools needed for him to work his magic, he didn't mind where he set up shop in the slightest.
Thus, he now found himself amongst the staffing at the Rustbucket Cantina, where he worked part-time as their bartender extraordinaire. Or at least, that's what the locals had come to call him- his skill with the art of brewery being unmatched in all their years of being.
It brought great pleasure (and a much needed stroking of his ego) to hear the constant praise his drink and meal-making brought to the establishment. And gave the mild mannered Saiyan a reason to smile every time he woke up in the morning to a brand new day of work ahead of him.
Nearly launching himself out of bed, Dion steadied himself on the cold linoleum floors of the simple, yet sizable inner living space of the very ship that he and Carro were working to fix up for space travel. Teeth audibly chattering, the shivering Saiyan quickly made his way over to one of the various crates of supplies nearby, taking from within an unsuspecting looking capsule. Clicking the top button, Dion tossed it to the side, walking then over toward the bathroom portion of the ship to freshen up a bit as his clothes for the day ejected from inside.
Having as tech savvy as a brother as Carro was worked wonders for the less than knowledgeable older sibling, especially when it came to being able to cut morning routine time by nearly half- as once Dion came out of the bathroom all showered up and ready to go, his clothes were all set in various neat piles for him to take from.
Looking up at the digital clock in the control panel at the very front of the ship as he approached his clothes, his eyes narrowed as he couldn't fully make out the blotchy numbers shown. Sighing in slight frustration, Dion scrambled about his bedside table for his glasses, tossing them onto his face with a simple flick of the wrist as he stifled a yawn, staring at the now more clearer numbers with a mildly curious glint in his gaze. Surely, he still had plenty of time before he was set to work his opening shift-
7:45 AM.
"7:45..?"
A narrowing of the eyes soon accompanied the tired murmurings as he tried to decipher the secret meaning behind the numbers before him.
"...And I open at 8:00..."
...It took a second for the recognition to fully set in.
And just how boned the bartender was if he didn't get his ass moving in the next five or so minutes.
Screaming the scream of a man whose pelt would be at his boss' bedside if not at work on time, Dion dashed into action, nearly slipping on the freezingly cold floor before him as he rushed to throw his working attire onto himself- shoes being shoved onto already moving feet as visibly shaking hands worked to nervously knot the tie around Dion's unfurled collar's neckpiece.
Near-galloping maniacally toward the exit, Dion slammed an elbow into the exit button, managing to finish knotting the tie around his neck and thus freeing his hands to help reel in the rest of the wardrobe wear and tear that was remaining as the ship began to slowly yet surely open the doors for his departure. Once the exit platform had barely touched the ground, Dion took immediate flight- the world around him a nonsensical blur as the wind howled a mocking tune alongside the blood pounding in his ears. Several utterings of swears and prayers slipping from his mouth as he tried to tie his shoes mid-air, causing him to flip around and about in headache inducing 180s at a constant spinning rate like some sort of Saiyan-made shooting star.
Somehow, the comet formally known as Dion was able to get his outfit all sorted before nearly faceplanting during his landing just a few yards outside of the Rustbucket Cantina's entrance- the sheer impact of his momentum kicking up an unholy amount of dirt and dust in his wake. A quickly conjured up Kiai seemed to blow away the worst of it from his clothes though, and with not a second to lose, the bone-weary bartender collapsed through the entrance of the bar with a breathless ambience about him.
After a few hopeful glances at the inside of the bar, Dion could tell that he very much was still the first person to have arrived- and so he took a moment to breath a sigh of relief at his reputation of reliability being preserved. Not too long of a moment, however, as the breakfast rush was nearly upon him, and the kitchen beckoned for him to begin his preparations.
Dion Haddock, while still not overly fond of the fact that he had somehow found himself upon the planet that had been home to the entirety of his childhood trauma, was determined to make lemons into lemonade- dead-set on making the best out of a less than desirable situation. Despite him knowing he could probably leave whenever he felt the need to do so, Dion didn't like the idea of leaving his little brother Carro to his own devices for too long (especially when considering his less than combat ready stature in contrast to the combative atmosphere Plant housed the boys within). So, as he awaited Carro's call to finally corral the two back toward terra firma, Dion, as always, wanted to keep himself at least a teensy bit busy.
It wasn't very hard to quench that thirst for work either, seeing as Plant offered a plethora of bars, taverns, and hostelries that complimented his bartending experience. Nor did it take very long for Dion to make his choice, since pickiness was a word absent in his vocabulary. His bar, pun intended, was set to the bare minimum- as long as they had an agreeable enough atmosphere and the tools needed for him to work his magic, he didn't mind where he set up shop in the slightest.
Thus, he now found himself amongst the staffing at the Rustbucket Cantina, where he worked part-time as their bartender extraordinaire. Or at least, that's what the locals had come to call him- his skill with the art of brewery being unmatched in all their years of being.
It brought great pleasure (and a much needed stroking of his ego) to hear the constant praise his drink and meal-making brought to the establishment. And gave the mild mannered Saiyan a reason to smile every time he woke up in the morning to a brand new day of work ahead of him.
Nearly launching himself out of bed, Dion steadied himself on the cold linoleum floors of the simple, yet sizable inner living space of the very ship that he and Carro were working to fix up for space travel. Teeth audibly chattering, the shivering Saiyan quickly made his way over to one of the various crates of supplies nearby, taking from within an unsuspecting looking capsule. Clicking the top button, Dion tossed it to the side, walking then over toward the bathroom portion of the ship to freshen up a bit as his clothes for the day ejected from inside.
Having as tech savvy as a brother as Carro was worked wonders for the less than knowledgeable older sibling, especially when it came to being able to cut morning routine time by nearly half- as once Dion came out of the bathroom all showered up and ready to go, his clothes were all set in various neat piles for him to take from.
Looking up at the digital clock in the control panel at the very front of the ship as he approached his clothes, his eyes narrowed as he couldn't fully make out the blotchy numbers shown. Sighing in slight frustration, Dion scrambled about his bedside table for his glasses, tossing them onto his face with a simple flick of the wrist as he stifled a yawn, staring at the now more clearer numbers with a mildly curious glint in his gaze. Surely, he still had plenty of time before he was set to work his opening shift-
7:45 AM.
"7:45..?"
A narrowing of the eyes soon accompanied the tired murmurings as he tried to decipher the secret meaning behind the numbers before him.
"...And I open at 8:00..."
...It took a second for the recognition to fully set in.
And just how boned the bartender was if he didn't get his ass moving in the next five or so minutes.
Screaming the scream of a man whose pelt would be at his boss' bedside if not at work on time, Dion dashed into action, nearly slipping on the freezingly cold floor before him as he rushed to throw his working attire onto himself- shoes being shoved onto already moving feet as visibly shaking hands worked to nervously knot the tie around Dion's unfurled collar's neckpiece.
Near-galloping maniacally toward the exit, Dion slammed an elbow into the exit button, managing to finish knotting the tie around his neck and thus freeing his hands to help reel in the rest of the wardrobe wear and tear that was remaining as the ship began to slowly yet surely open the doors for his departure. Once the exit platform had barely touched the ground, Dion took immediate flight- the world around him a nonsensical blur as the wind howled a mocking tune alongside the blood pounding in his ears. Several utterings of swears and prayers slipping from his mouth as he tried to tie his shoes mid-air, causing him to flip around and about in headache inducing 180s at a constant spinning rate like some sort of Saiyan-made shooting star.
Somehow, the comet formally known as Dion was able to get his outfit all sorted before nearly faceplanting during his landing just a few yards outside of the Rustbucket Cantina's entrance- the sheer impact of his momentum kicking up an unholy amount of dirt and dust in his wake. A quickly conjured up Kiai seemed to blow away the worst of it from his clothes though, and with not a second to lose, the bone-weary bartender collapsed through the entrance of the bar with a breathless ambience about him.
After a few hopeful glances at the inside of the bar, Dion could tell that he very much was still the first person to have arrived- and so he took a moment to breath a sigh of relief at his reputation of reliability being preserved. Not too long of a moment, however, as the breakfast rush was nearly upon him, and the kitchen beckoned for him to begin his preparations.