Realistic or Modern THE LIES WE KEEP pvt. squish boy

[sad boy]

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t h e l i e s w e k e e p
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squishyness v sad boy
this rp contains boys love, murder, darker themes​

 

[Squishyness]

His bandaged hands were dirty and flecked with paint, some blood staining them a light pink behind all the grime. Despite them, he carried a second large, wrapped canvas out of his house, never once flinching with pain as he loaded it onto the back of a truck. Danse looked disheveled, his normal veneer; the cool, collected, well put together, aloof artist he had managed to cultivate even in this nothing little town, was almost completely stripped away. Instead he was sleep-deprived, weak, and lost deep in thought.

If he hadn't been late maybe he could have worked on covering any one of those slips up, but he had a meeting in town to get to. A deadline had come and gone and he was off to show what months of work had come up with. With everything that had been going on lately, the last thing he needed was for his car to squeal something awful as he tried to turn it on.

"Shit. Shit!" He yelled, turning the car key in vain and hearing the same spluttering that indicated something was wrong. He gave the steering wheel a punch, hitting the horn, but finally breaking through his dazed mind with a sharp pain. He curled his wounded hands and kept them close to his chest, tears of frustration and pain gathering as muttered curses down a long list of people he thought had put him here. People he wished dead.

​

 

[sad boy]

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ANTONIO marque
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Squishyness ​

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[class name=text state=hover] cursor: default; [/class] [div class=main] [div class=textbox] [div class=text] It was unusual lately. The amount of strange happenings going on in their little town of Daleson. The typical year there was very quiet with little to no action going on. Sure, the occasional rowdy teenager would get into trouble here and there and sometimes stragglers at the pub would show up to cause a ruckus but for the most part... Nothing ever happened. Everyone knew each other. Personal business? No such thing. There was a group of women called the Red Lady Society that saw fit to making sure everyone's everything was known at all times. A small affair or scandal? All eyes on you next time you went to church. Guess they had to conjure up some excitement one way or another.

They were holding a meeting today though. From what he gathered, it was more like a town watch proposal. They had a young kid, about seventeen, found dead during the middle of last week. As expected it drew up quite a stir; especially considering they found him hanging from his back by some kind of meat hook in the local make-out drive. Something grisly right out of a horror book. The town had tried to keep it under wraps but the outside world wasn't going to let that happen. Worse part was though, they couldn't find any solid clues or evidence. The area had been clean; no prints, no sloppy workmanship. Spotless. It could have been deemed a suicide had it not been so complex.

So, as per requirement, here he was. Gizmo at his side, the golden retriever sniffing at anything and everything happily. He didn't live too far off from the town hall, got a bit of an early head start and it was just the excuse his pal needed to stretch his legs and mark everything. As the two made their way down the street though, a familiar sound reached his ears and Antonio paused for a moment to glance around. He knew car troubles when he heard them and finally, his eyes landed on the guy he thought had to be the one making the noise. Oye, he didn't look like he was having a good day.

"Afternoon Dan," he said as he approached the truck. He didn't exactly know the guy well but he knew of the guy at least. If you lived here, chances were, your name was at least known. And if they didn't know you well, even bigger chance was there were rumors attached to you. "Need me to take a look? We got some time." Gizmo barked at Danse before sniffing around his truck, grunting when he was yanked away from a tire he was about to lay claim to. [/div] [/div] [/div]

 

[Squishyness]

Danse Winters​

Danse pulled his hands from where they were gripping his hair, some deep seeded shame and beaten in manners forcing him to snap to attention. He smoothed down his mostly grey hair, a streak of blood following behind. His hand was bleeding through the bandages now, but the pain was shoved away, along with whatever frustration had almost caused a scene. Now he had a more neutral look across his face and he looked out the window to see who was offering the help.

"Antonio?" He'd never been much of a car guy, he'd never had the need to be-- changing a tire and jumpstarting a car was the extent of his knowledge of it- but he'd had his older than hell convertible checked out enough times that he recognized the mechanic. "Of course, you live next door don't you?" As close as next door could be when his house had a couple of acres stretching around it, but he was surprised nonetheless. He moved to get out of the truck, more aware now of his appearance as if he'd needed another person's presence to snap out of the craze that had taken over since the night before.

"You'd be doing me a great favor if you would. I'm late." He admitted, taking something silky from a pocket and beginning to sop up some overflowing blood from under the bandage of his left hand. The dog inspected him and he took an instinctive step back towards the truck. "Uh, this is Gizmo, right?" His attention to detail made him a good painter and a seemingly nosy part of the community, despite locking himself away more often than not.