“That's kind of illegal, y'know?"
Dustin paused, can-holding hand hovering by the wall, and glanced briefly at the man talking to him, before smirking and returning to the mural he'd been working on.
It was a bird, some kind of white bird, with its bloodied, ragged wings spread. He'd made it on an impulse, naturally, just taken his paint bag and found a crumbling brick wall to vandalize. In broad daylight, no less.
"I saw a cop heading this way not too long ago."
Dustin raised an eyebrow, skepticism edging his voice.
"Really? You should've called him over."
He continued on with the paint, working through the bird's wings quickly. He was no stranger to cops, or to getting in trouble with them. They were no stranger to him, either.
Taking a few moments to finish the picture off, Dustin turned to face the man, arms crossed and feeling quite ready to tell him to buzz off, but let the thought slide as he noticed the genuine curiosity in his eyes. They were rather nice eyes, too.
“Chances are we’ve already met.” he chuckled, quite truthfully. Every cop within a ten-mile radius seemed to know his name, no matter where he went. Building up a record did have its disadvantages.
The man smiled slightly, caramel-coloured hair falling into his eyes.
“I’m Kit, by the way.”
Dustin popped the cap back onto his paint can, a thoughtful expression on his face.
“Dustin. Where you from?”
Brooklyn. That brought back memories, most of them not very...legal. Dustin laughed a little, recalling a certain occasion involving the Potato Bag Gang. They sold bags of potatoes for sky-high prices, claiming that they were ancient coins or something. Pretty funny, really. Until the cops got involved.
He took his duffel bag from the ground, still chuckling slightly.
“Ever been to Brighton Beach at night?” he asked, amused, “It’s real wild.”
Kit shook his head, clearly having no recollection of the place.
“Too bad” Dustin mused, putting the paints away, “So, Kit, headed anywhere?”
Kit shrugged, looking uncertain.
“I don’t know. Wherever the road takes me, I guess. Oregon maybe.”
Dustin looked off down the street, eye catching on a cop patrolling down the block.
"Funny." he muttered, stepping so that he was just out of the officer's line of sight.
"Why? Need a ride somewhere?"
Dustin returned his eyes to Kit, grinning.
"I guess I do."