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Realistic or Modern 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕟𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕣𝕤 𝕗𝕖𝕝𝕝 -- roleplay

Characters
Here

Atticus Bailey



Being the youngest child of the family—and with it, the only male child—came with many benefits like always getting the best Christmas gifts of the bunch or being able to stay out much later than any of your older siblings could when they were your age. It, however, also came with many drawbacks, some of which were pretty unimportant and trivial, but also with some trickier ones like the much-known struggle of actually wanting to know what is going on with your family but nobody wanting to tell you anything before being angry with you for the apparent indifference you emitted when it came to being a part of the family.

At the end of the day, Atticus had come to terms with being the second-best outcast of the family, Eliza being the first, and he was truly fine with it. Learning from his oldest sister that nothing really mattered as much as he thought it did only meant that the boy could now go through many fights with his face having the same dull expression and his mind staying clear of any guilt or unpleasant thoughts. And though he did love his family, there was a painfully apparent difference between the family dynamic now and the family dynamic back when he was just a wee 5-year-old boy adding the sprinkles to the cookies he baked with mommy.

His dad had shaped up to become the public enemy number one for him, and, of course, he wished that hadn't been the case, but things happened that Atticus simply couldn't get over. And, after all, such was life—dumb and filled with inadequate father figures.

Leaning against the doorframe was Eliza, asking if the boy wanted to go on the roof for some good old family slander with the two of them as hosts of the family-favorite talk show.

"Oh, boy, do I!?" The boy exclaimed as he lazily got up from lying in his bed. His voice radiated being excited the same amount as it radiated sarcasm and disdain for what was happening which just made him sound like a 13-year-old who really wanted to go to Disneyland but needed to look cool in front of his friends.

Opening the window of his room overlooking the garage roof, he stepped out on the mentioned roof, undoubtedly ruining his socks for the day, before he made his way to the part of the roof the two of them usually sat at and ridiculed the rest of the family and their ways.

"So, what was it this time? Was it the were you late, Elizabeth, or was it more you're the biggest disappointment ever, Elizabeth? Or, actually, it could've also been the usual scoff..." He joked.


| elizabeth geminiy geminiy |

TEMPLATE © BOKEH
 
fillerfillerfillfillerfillerfillerlerfilelifr 2:45 PM fillerfillerfillerfillerfillerfillerfillerfilr
Aria
INTERACTIONS

Lucio

MENTIONS

N/A




This whole powers thing? Fucking cool. Aria still wasn't entirely sure of what her limits were, or even one hundred percent sure of what she was capable of -- just that one day while at home high off her ass, white smoke had started falling off her hands. She had stared at the glowing smoke for a long time, wondering what the fuck was going on, figured it was just her imagination, and... promptly passed out.

Later, though, when she wasn't high and she'd come to her senses, she had stared at her hands, imagining the faint imagery of the white smoke and right when she was about to give up...

It had done it AGAIN.

Fucking rad. Fucking awesome. She was a fucking walking smoke machine.

Aria had been excited and she had wanted to tell somebody, anybody, but.... Who would believe her? Sure, she had the physical evidence, but that would just... scare whoever she told away. So Aria had kept the secret to herself, which was made easier by the fact that her best friend (and, really, only friend), Lucio, had been avoiding her.

She had no idea what that was about but at this point? Aria was sick of the excuses. She missed her friend.

And yet again, he'd ignored her texts.

The fucking nerve of that guy...

It was mid-afternoon. Easily the worst time of the day -- the sun was up high and she found herself squinting as she walked through town from the woods. Unfortunately for the eternal night owl, her powers tended to work a lot better when the sun was up, so she'd been getting up before noon to go out to the woods to try and practice.

Turns out she could make cool shit with the smoke, although every time she tried to make like... something sharp and pointy and stabby, it didn't do much stabbing. It would usually dissipate into white smoke when she'd try to cut a tree.

Pitiful fucking smoke machine she was.

However, while walking home, something -- or, rather, someone -- caught her eye. It wasn't a total coincidence or a total surprise, really. Aria had picked this route home knowing that there was a good chance that she'd run across Lucio at this exact café. A little tidbit of information: don't try to hide and avoid your childhood best friend by going somewhere she'd know about.

"There you are," she called as she approached him and threw herself into the seat across the table from him. "What the hell, dude? Didn't you get my texts? Were you ever going to reply?"

Although her tone was callous and harsh, Aria was hurt by his avoidance.


code by ditto (head empty go bonk)
 
Angela Hayes
mood
fancy

outfit:
here

location
jewelry store

tags
Mara ( beeswaxie beeswaxie ), Connor ( Winona Winona ), Leea ( ditto ditto )


It only took a couple of words from the boy's parter - Connor, she thought his name was. But she never cared enough about other people's names to remember them, even when they'd just said it - for her fake smile to disappear. Her eyes flashed in anger as she listened to the couple speaking. How dare they? Who did they think they were? What were they trying to do? Convince her into giving them the ring so they could run away with it? Probably. Or even worse, maybe they would try feeding her a little sob story about how hard they'd been looking for the ring and how it really meant something to them, all to then ask if she could find it in her heart to let them buy the snake ring instead.

Might've worked with someone else. More empathetic and compassionate. Angie, however, was neither of those things.

"Yes, so hard to find, isn't it? Limited edition," she boasted. Truly, she had no idea how rare the ring was. She'd done no research before walking into the store and finding it there, but it was clearly important for the couple and she wouldn't just miss a clear bragging opportunity. Rubbing how unique the ring was in the eyes of a poor hopeful couple who she now considered her enemies? No better way to spend the afternoon.

"You can look, but you can't touch!" she thought. "I'd rather die and go to Hell than give this beauty away to some... beggars.·"

Then, almost out of nowhere, a random third party showed up. Asking if they wanted to buy an used ring from her, (yes, yes, she'd claimed it wasn't used. But did she really expect anyone to believe her? Please!) since she couldn't just give it back to the store. How convenient. Luck really seemed to favour her as of late, now gifting her with the perfect way out of the conversation.

"There. Why don't you buy her ring instead?" she asked the couple, with her eyes narrowed and a passive-agressive smile. "Not as good as mine, no offense love, but hey! Better this than nothing, right?"

With that, she turned to leave. Making sure to turn her head more agressively than necessary so her long braids would hit the offending couple. It didn't take long for her to finish the transaction and work things out with the cashier (whose puzzled look proved that he wasn't used to someone paying for such expensive jewelry in cash, but she didn't care). Taking her bags back in her hands, she walked past the others when suddenly, a thought struck her.

Why leave now? What she'd done to the others had been mean, sure, but not as nearly as cruel as she would've liked. She had supernatural abilities! There was certainly more she could do to make those idiots pay for ever trying to take her precious ring away from her greedy grasp. It would be so easy too... all she would have to do was lure them somewhere more private, control their minds, and see where her delightfully devious imagination could take her. Maybe she could control them to cheat on the other, no better way to break an engagement. Before leaving, she made sure to stop by the couple, inching close enough to them so they'd hear her whispering:

"You know, I'd always be willing to part with the ring for the right amount of cash. Just meet me outside the mall if you're interested, main gate. I'm sure you understand why we can't do the...transaction here. Better to do it in a more secluded spot away from all the cameras." With that, she exited the store, not waiting to see their reaction. If they wanted the ring that badly, they could meet her in the entrance. If not, well, nothing to do then.

coded by reveriee.


It only took a couple of words from the boy's parter - Connor, she thought his name was. But she never cared enough about other people's names to remember them, even when they'd just said it - for her fake smile to disappear. Her eyes flashed in anger as she listened to the couple speaking. How dare they? Who did they think they were? What were they trying to do? Convince her into giving them the ring so they could run away with it? Probably. Or even worse, maybe they would try feeding her a little sob story about how hard they'd been looking for the ring and how it really meant something to them, all to then ask if she could find it in her heart to let them buy the snake ring instead.

Might've worked with someone else. More empathetic and compassionate. Angie, however, was neither of those things.

"Yes, so hard to find, isn't it? Limited edition," she boasted. Truly, she had no idea how rare the ring was. She'd done no research before walking into the store and finding it there, but it was clearly important for the couple and she wouldn't just miss a clear bragging opportunity. Rubbing how unique the ring was in the eyes of a poor hopeful couple who she now considered her enemies? No better way to spend the afternoon.

"You can look, but you can't touch!" she thought. "I'd rather die and go to Hell than give this beauty away to some... beggars.·"

Then, almost out of nowhere, a random third party showed up. Asking if they wanted to buy an used ring from her, (yes, yes, she'd claimed it wasn't used. But did she really expect anyone to believe her? Please!) since she couldn't just give it back to the store. How convenient. Luck really seemed to favour her as of late, now gifting her with the perfect way out of the conversation.

"There. Why don't you buy her ring instead?" she asked the couple, with her eyes narrowed and a passive-agressive smile. "Not as good as mine, no offense love, but hey! Better this than nothing, right?"

With that, she turned to leave. Making sure to turn her head more agressively than necessary so her long braids would hit the offending couple. It didn't take long for her to finish the transaction and work things out with the cashier (whose puzzled look proved that he wasn't used to someone paying for such expensive jewelry in cash, but she didn't care). Taking her bags back in her hands, she walked past the others when suddenly, a thought struck her.

Why leave now? What she'd done to the others had been mean, sure, but not as nearly as cruel as she would've liked. She had supernatural abilities! There was certainly more she could do to make those idiots pay for ever trying to take her precious ring away from her greedy grasp. It would be so easy too... all she would have to do was lure them somewhere more private, control their minds, and see where her delightfully devious imagination could take her. Maybe she could control them to cheat on the other, no better way to break an engagement. Before leaving, she made sure to stop by the couple, inching close enough to them so they'd hear her whispering:

"You know, I'd always be willing to part with the ring for the right amount of cash. Just meet me outside the mall if you're interested, main gate. I'm sure you understand why we can't do the...transaction here. Better to do it in a more secluded spot away from all the cameras." With that, she exited the store, not waiting to see their reaction. If they wanted the ring that badly, they could meet her in the entrance. If not, well, nothing to do then.
 
a wrong-doer
is often a man

that has left something
undone

not always one who
has done something

LEEA PRESCOTT
Mood
{ Time. Is. Ticking. }

Location
{ Jewelry store --> Bathroom }

Mentions
{ N/A }

Interactions
{ Connor, Angela, Mara }

Tags
{ Winona Winona }
{ fancries1 fancries1 }
{ beeswaxie beeswaxie }


"Yeah, it really does, Leea.

Goddamn it. Leea clenched her teeth, glaring up at her crony and forcing a laugh behind a tense smile. From the way he spoke, he seemed to think that he was being smooth now or something, all whilst sticking it to her or whatever. He was far too easy to read, and she could pick up even the subtle emphasis on her name.

The fucking imbecile. Her name wasn’t as important as getting this damn thing done, and all he seemed to be focusing on was pissing her off.

She could see the rusty, small, simple cogs in his head turning as he thought of the next sentence.

"Mind if we take a look at it? Let Leea try it on for size. This is our third jewelry store today looking for that ring in particular."

She resisted the urge to sink her face into the palm of her hand.

This was what she got for letting the man with the brain of a termite and the social skills of a slab of concrete have even the slightest opportunity to prove himself as capable of executing a conversation, even when their lives might have depended on it (and they very well might have, for she hadn’t really gotten too much information in her vision).

He’d better be glad that he had regenerative powers, because she might just have to make use of her switchblade if he didn’t fucking stop it.

Her eyes moved to the other woman to speak, but before she could form her sickly-sweet smile into a vowel, another woman approached.

"Hey are any of you looking for a ring to buy?” the newest woman began. “I’ve got one that's never been worn but it's a few months late on the receipt... I have the receipt right here."

Leea’s smile sunk to be a bit more sinister for a moment before she caught herself.

Interrupting our fucking conversation isn’t the wisest course of action for you, pretty bitch. It would be the most self-preservative if you walk away and act as if you never saw any of us.

That is, unless you enjoy having your eyes pried from their sockets.


“You come into the store to sell us rings? Isn’t that…solicitation?” Leea asked. “At the very least, I find it kind of rude to the storekeepers, don’t you think? Stealing their business in their own store?”

Get away, Leea tried to burn into the woman with her eyes. As much as I would enjoy seeing the color of your blood, now is not the time to tempt me.

Leea turned her eyes to the woman who they’d searched for in the first place.

"There. Why don't you buy her ring instead?" the woman asked the couple. Her eyes were narrowed; her smile was oddly venomous. “Not as good as mine, no offense love, but hey! Better this than nothing, right?"

Leea watched her movements, noticing the small features of her face.

There was no way that this woman hadn’t noticed that something is up.

Goddamn it!

Leea looked up at Connor, nostrils flared and brows lowered slightly. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think that we have any such interest in the...”

Her voice trailed off as her eyes moved to view the woman again, only to find that she was walking away. Her braids batted at Leea’s arm, and her nose scrunched together.

"You know, I'd always be willing to part with the ring for the right amount of cash,” the woman added. “Just meet me outside the mall if you're interested, main gate. I'm sure you understand why we can't do the...transaction here. Better to do it in a more secluded spot away from all the cameras."

With that, she began to walk away.

Leea looked up at Connor again, glaring, and then she looked do the woman in front of her. Goddamn it, these two fucking morons might have just cost them the lead that they had on her.

“Hey,” she said to the woman, her lips curling up into a seething smile, “I mean no offense by this statement, but maybe you should find something better to do than peddle relics from your bad decisions to people who quite obviously are engaged in serious conversation.”

She tugged at Connor’s arm as she began to walk away. “I’m forgiving, but, as innocuous as your offer seems, it could surely get you hurt. Watch your words, watch your back, and watch your moves. Alright?”

She stepped further away from her, turning her head away. Before she got too far, she shot a single look back at her. “Just a tip, sweetheart,” she cooed, and she turned her head away and tugged Connor out of the store with her.

As soon as they got out of the doors, Leea set her face ahead, quickening her pace as the hand looped in Connor’s elbow tugged him forward with her.

Damn it, damn it, damn it— they were going to lose the target, and it was—

She noted a bathroom sign, and she made a sharp turn into it, and then she turned to the right to shove him into the family bathroom.

She locked the door furiously, and she spun around to face him. “What the fuck was that?!” she yelled, walking closer to him and glaring up at him. “You fucking— you idiot! Literally, you had one fucking job— agree with everything I say and let me take the lead!”

She shoved him, then snatched him down by the neck of his shirt, balling it up in her fist as she glared into his eyes, now even with her face. She lowered her voice, speaking through her teeth in a much calmer tone. “Look at me— look me dead in the eyes— and listen closely: I am the leader here. You aren’t. You know this. You don’t get to say my name as retaliation for some…petty shit that goes on in your empty skull, okay?"

Her gaze searched his eyes as she said her next sentences: "You are with me because I’m the thing keeping you alive. You are with me because I am going to be successful— because I am going to do this right. You follow me. Do I make myself clear?”

She didn’t wait for an answer. “Now, when we get out there, I don’t want you to do anything like that shit that you pulled inside. She’s dangerous— you might now know my powers, and it’s way over your head, I get that, but you have to trust me. She’s dangerous, and she might try to hurt us. I have faith in your ability, too, and, look…”

She pulled the small switchblade that she’d been keeping in her jean jacket and flicked it up with her left hand, and, staring blankly into his eyes, she brought it to his cheek and yanked it across it, ignoring the bright red as she continued speaking. “It’s sharp,” she said, and she flicked it back down, forcing his hand open and placing it in his palm. “If she tries to attack you, I trust you more with that than myself.” She paused a beat. “Now, I want you to listen to me again: I. Don’t. Know. What. Her. Powers. Are. This isn’t some laughing matter, this isn’t something joking— I don’t know if she’s going to have some impenetrable skin or if she’s just going to be able to live without blinking. Whatever the hell it is, I don’t need you commenting on it. Got it?”

She nodded, showing him that he’d better just agree, and she released his shirt, taking a step back. “If you do notice something or have an idea,” she said, “you know the signal.” She put two fingers to her forehead with her right hand, tapping at her temple, and then slowly extended her thumb. “That, right?” she asked rhetorically, dropping her hand. She paused another moment. “She asked to meet us where there aren’t any cameras— you know that that means that she plans to do nothing good. But…”

She walked closer to him, looking up into his eyes, her tone and gaze much calmer. “We don’t attack first. We don’t make the first moves. If she does, we take her out, but, if we can talk her down…she might prove useful. I mean, think—“ Okay, no. “Try to think about it, Connor. We have no idea of our way around this town. She seems like she’s a native here. If she knows her way around, then…perhaps she would make a useful addition to this team. That is why we need to move carefully, Connor. She could either kill us, or she could prove to be our biggest ally.”

She reached up, touching his cheek where she had cut it, and she looked into his eyes. “Trust me, Connor. Got it? I don’t need any more of your idiocy; this is serious. I need you to tell me that you understand all of this. If you don’t..." Her tone went serious and dry. "I might just have to bid you adieu.”


code by ditto (head empty go bonk)
 








Aster




MOOD: suspectin
LOCATION: laundry room
OUTFIT: clothes
TAGS: ditto ditto
MENTIONS: n/a
Aster tuned out Brahm's talk about job seeking with a hopelessly bored face. One of the perks of moving across the country was being able to avoid being told to get a job or pursue a meaningful goal in life. His parents were hardcore enablers, but in the end Aster still had his fair share of talks about the future. Right now, doing anything he wasn't absolutely set on wasn't feasible. The only thing on Aster's mind was his power and he'd work at it every chance he got.

"Yeah, maybe," he noncommittally replied, releasing an incredibly forced chuckle, "I haven't worked in a while... not since that pizza delivery job." Normally Aster wouldn't have omitted all of the details over such a simple statement, but perhaps claiming to a new acquaintance that he'd been fired from his Papa Gino's job for failing to show up for his shift several times without notice wasn't the best strategy for making friends.

Aster felt mildly offended over Brahm's classifications of young adults after realizing he fell into the label of "dropout", which wasn't exactly complimentary to his character. This time, though, he listened closely to the rest of what the man was saying, as the purpose of his moving to Wilmont would undoubtedly be crucial information.

That was until Aster did hear his reasons and fully regretted using his energy to analyze every word of Brahm's dull spiel about botany and college. Even after using a tiny fraction of his power to search Brahm for any hint of fear or negativity in his head once more, the search turned up clean. As far as Aster knew, this guy was telling the truth, rendering him entirely useless in terms of information on the stars.

Drat. Not that Aster could expect much from some random apartment tenant he ran into, but it would have been nice to make a vital connection early on in the game.

Aster's face darkened when Brahm moved on to mention the strange occurrences going on in the otherwise sleepy town of Wilmont. He'd been wrong in his previous assumptions about the taller man; somehow he'd picked up some information about the incident through the grapevine. This was the first Aster was hearing of any of it off of the internet, so this naturally piqued his interest. He spoke on the matter so casually and nonchalantly, but it still put Aster on edge that he'd managed to circle back to perhaps the reason for the new arrivals to town, whether he knew it or not.

Aster, taking no chances, immediately deemed it necessary to assume the former. Everything about this guy's vibe screamed ignorance, but Aster couldn't help but feel threatened by the way he'd been so directly questioned on the matter. Had he made it that obvious? Had his incognito google searches been hacked somehow? Was this guy part of some larger conspiracy out to take out prying eyes?

Logically, no, probably not. Aster didn't give any of those theories the light of day, but he nonetheless felt there was something more behind that affable smile plastered onto Brahm's face. What had once been a quick peek into Brahm's anxieties and fears had rapidly turned into Aster internally slamming the panic button, which often worked against him in more ways than one. The passive, inexplicably unsettling air that permeated out of Aster spiked as he ran through all of the possibilities.

He couldn't afford not to overthink. He couldn't have his investigation cut short by prying eyes, especially with how many ways it could lead. Suddenly, that lighthearted laugh became a cause for concern, unnerving Aster enough to drop his peaceful expression and mentally guard himself. "What do you know?" he demanded, searching for anything in Brahm's body language that could hint at feigned ignorance or real ignorance.

Brahm had already answered him on what he knew. Aster knew that. But the way Brahm had asked him about it caught him off guard. As if this wasn't the first time he'd dug for this sort of information. Maybe this really was the extent of Brahm's knowledge. But he had to try. Aster had wanted to get some real information on the stars, but on his own terms. Not by having it forced out of him behind a friendly face. He felt ridiculous overreacting over what could possibly be another facet of their small talk. Even if Brahm had the most innocent of intentions, Aster wouldn't allow himself to say anything that could bite him in the ass later.

"I'm not one for conspiracy theories myself," he corrected, making up for his considerably longer lapse in composure with a harmless, awkward laugh, "But I've heard about it too. What are you doing poking around in all that?" His eyes glinted for a flash of a second, and at that point Aster was just about ready to reprimand himself for being so inconsistent with his pleasantness. "It's really a strange one. I'd expect to hear the same thing from everyone else given the ridiculousness of it all. Going around asking questions straight up might not be the best approach. Well, at least that's the way I'd see it if I was into that sort of thing."

"So, sorry, I don't think I have anything new to add,"
he finished, rubbing the back of his forehead lamely.

code by low fidelity.
 
there is not
always a good guy

nor is there
always a bad one

most people are
somewhere in between

BRAHM LOVELESS
Mood
• Conversatin', but slightly more intensely •

Location
• Laundry •

Mentions
• N/A •

Interactions
• Aster •

Tags
hery hery


"There it was; all the proof that Brahm needed to know that this Aster fellow was one just like himself.

It was the panic in his eyes, and it was the hostility in his voice; it was the subtle way that his muscles tensed up involuntarily and subconsciously, and it was the tension in his tone when he’d demanded what Brahm knew and what Brahm was doing poking around in all that.

Aster had given himself away.

Brahm’s grin, for an instant, slipped into something that nearly victorious. It was a quick slide, and he caught himself before it fully manifested in his expression, but he couldn’t be sure that the other man hadn’t caught that slight shift.

“Ya seem ta be mistak’nin’ muh politeness fer intrusion,” Brahm said, peering into Aster’s eyes calmly, smiling easily. “No need ta get defensive; Ah’m just another curious body in search fer tha truth. A lost star, as they say.”

His movements, as casual as they seemed, were calculated as he moved closer to Aster, lowering his voice as he came to stand beside him. “Ah’m nawt as dumb’s Ah seem, Aster. People tend ta discount me ‘cuz of my friendly nature or my accent or what have ya, but Ah’d like ta let ya know that Ah’m far from stupid.” Every move you’ve made, I’ve led you into it. You’re a fly in my honey, whether you realize it or not. “Ah don’t mean this in a sinister way er nothin’— Ah’m actually quite the opposite. What Ah’m askin’ is jus’ ta get ta know ya.”

Here came the hitter.

Brahm looked over into Aster’s eyes. “Ah think yer lyin' ta me. Ah know why yer here. Yain’t foolin' me.” He grinned at him easily, taking a step back and leaning against the bouncing washing machine. “Yer one’a them, ain’t ya?” He glanced back over at Aster. “Ya have somethin' yer hidin’— somethin’ ya either came here ta find the reason behind, came here to discover more about, came here ta grow, or came here ta destroy.” He watched his face carefully. “Somethin’ away from tha pryin' eyes of yer folks back home. Somethin’ here, where, while yer in danger, yer safe from everyone else.”

He smiled knowingly. “You came here to get away, rahght? Ta make somethin’ of yerself. Cain’t hold a job, can’t keep in school. Cain’t make nothin’ of yerself, but whatever ya’ve been gifted by those fallin' stars is yer chance to make yerself worth even just a lil’, amahrahght?” He delivered this in his casual tone, although his voice was lowered, and his eyes left the other man. “It’s fahne. I cun understand that.”

He slid his hand into his pocket, feeling around at the fuzzy lining as he chuckled. “Ah’m kinda tha same. Ah’m a plant scientist, ya know. Studyin' ta be a botanist— but life seems so aimless…”

He went quiet for a moment, his eyes studying the towels on the rack above the dryers. Why were the folded towels in the laundry room? He didn’t understand that.

“…an’ that thin’ is, Aster…”

He grinned, looking over at the other man. He knew how risky these words were, but he had faith that the other man wouldn’t attempt to attack him.

If he did, he still stood no chance.

With a soft sigh, he delivered his next line: “Ah have been granted tha same kinda thin’ that you’ve been. Ah’ve got somethin’ jus’. Lahke. You.


code by ditto (head empty go bonk)
 
the urge to
save humanity

is almost always
a false

front for the
urge to rule

SAM MAEGER
Mood
[ ...heh... ]

Location
[ McDonald's drive-thru, but not at the actual ordering thingy yet ]

Mentions
[ N/A ]

Interactions
[ Lex, Alex ]

Tags
[ hery hery fancries1 fancries1 ]


He met his eyes with knitted brows.

You got this...just open your mouth and...

He blew out a long puff of air, then popped a smile on his face, whipping around.

"Hey! I-I'm here for...uh..."

He took a step back, searching for his words. He brought his hand up to run through his hair. "For the...uh..."

He dropped his hand.

It slammed against the top of the ceramic toilet behind him.

"Shit!" he hissed in pain, picking his hand up and blowing on it, trying to soothe the pain as he took a couple of steps backward and dropped down onto the toilet.

The seat was up, and he noticed this only when he fell in.

He yelped and quickly jumped up, huffing and smacking the ass of his boxers as if trying to brush the water off would actually make the water brush off.

He turned around to face the mirror above the toilet again, ass wetted and no progress made.

He met his eyes. "C'mon, man..." He frowned at himself. "It's not even the real thing..."

The door flung open. "Running through--"

"Can't you knock?!" Sam growled, turning around to face his brother who had no respect for personal boundaries.

"What is it, Boatlet? Psyching yourself up to have basic conversation again?" his brother asked, sniggering at him.

Yes, yes he was.

Listen, Sam wasn't socially inept-- that wasn't his thing. He was great in social settings.

Er-- well...

Sure, he was far from liked, but that was part of what came with being so separate from the general populous. And sure, he was mildly socially awkward, but...he was fine. Heightened intelligence, reduced social capability. Chads like his freaking steroid-ridden brother couldn't get it.

"Don't you have better things to do than stand over me, Jep?" Sam asked, rolling his eyes and trying to push past his brother.

His brother shifted as he tried to get around him, blocking him every way that he tried to go. He was just below eye height for Sam, but that slight height difference didn't give any advantage.

"Well duuuuh, but it's still funny," Jep said, giving his brother a punch on the chest and causing him to step back a step and clutch his chest with a ugh. "I need to get in here. Leave."

"That's what I'm trying to do," Sam said, squeezing past his brother finally and running a hand through his hair.

The door slammed shut, and Sam let out a soft sigh, stopping his walking away and rolling his eyes. Damn it. He had no privacy in this house.

One more year. One more year, and he could move out and go to college.

And at college? There'd be no brothers, and there'd be no one to judge him for his about-to-go-out-and-have-a-conversation pep talks.

Oh, yeah, and there'd be hot girls who didn't think that he was totally revolting, because they'd have more than one brain cell-- and that would be the end to his involuntary celibacy.

Score!

Sam plodded back to his, his footsteps heavy, and he remembered to duck this time to avoid hitting his head on the plastic Batman symbol he’d duct taped to dangle from the inside of his doorframe. It looked sick and not at all trashy, so it was totally worth having to duck beneath it every time he walked into his room.

Shutting the door gently behind himself, he trudged to his closet door, throwing the door open and sighing when he saw the mess in the floor of it. Was it his fault that he threw all of that stuff in there looking for the perfect shirt for exploring? Yeah. Was he still going to whine and sigh about it? Siiiiigh…yeah.

“Mom’s gonna kill me,” he moaned, picking up his green shirt from atop the pile and tugging it on.

After changing his boxers and tugging on one of his many pairs of ill-fitting jeans, Sam glanced at his reflection in the mirror before quickly averting his eyes. He looked pretty good, like he always did. “Pretty good”, as non-descriptive as it was, was about all that he could say about himself. He’d lazily tugged a brush through his hair, because, even though the boys wouldn’t mind it being a total mess if he’d left it that way, his mom would murder him for going out in public without his hair at least untangled.

Yeah, “in public” apparently even meant “going exploring in an old, unmanned, wooded area in search of treasure”.

With a soft sigh, he walked to his nightstand and picked up his wallet and his keys, shoving them into his back pocket. He pulled open his door and stepped into the hallway. “Mom! I’m leaving!” he yelled, and he made his way down the stairs and to the door.

“Be careful!” came her call finally, heavily muffled by the distance that it had to travel. “Don’t mess up the metal detector— I didn’t buy you it just to buy you a new one two days later!”

“Right!” he called back, and, with that, he exited.

Yeah, he’d asked his mom to buy him a metal detector. Yeah, it sat in his trunk.

Listen, it was necessary for exploring— well, for looking for the rumored treasure of an old, dead, rich dude.

On the way to his car, he did an excited shimmy, jumping over the cracks as he walked to the curb whilst making exaggerated sound effects. When he arrived at his car, he tugged open the driver’s side door and tossed himself in, shoving his keys into ignition and turning them until the thing started. As he took his hand away to adjust the radio, the keys kind of stuck to his hand, and with a grunt. he vigorously began to shake his hand, trying to get them to fall off. Nope, that didn’t work— the ends of the dangling keys still stuck to his hand.

He had to stop eating caramel popcorn before driving. He apparently kept getting it on his keys— he went through this struggle every time he got in his vehicle recently, and it was a huge pain in the ass.

He turned the radio down and set his eyes ahead, and, trying his best to avoid the vehicles that he’d parallel parked between as he pulled out, he made his way to the house of today’s exploring partner— and the dude that was hanging out with him.

Lex’s house wasn’t too far away, so it wasn’t long before Sam’s vehicle pulled to a stop in front of it. Upon seeing the two waiting figures in Lex’s front lawn, Sam rolled down his window and did that cool guy thing— ya know, the head tilt backwards and the good old “get in”— and then promptly rolled his window back up.

“Yooo,” he greeted as Lex took his passenger seat. He spared an awkward smile to Alex— he didn’t really know the dude, and here he was tagging along on what was surely going to be a journey of deep discovery, both personal and physical, that would end in riches that the guy would surely want a share of— before turning to look ahead.

As he started up the vehicle, Sam wasted no time getting to the nitty gritty of what most conversations with Lex were composed of: nerdy shit.

“So I finished volumes seven through fifteen last night? Stayed up all last night to read them. Now, I’m all caught up, I think.” Was that a flex? No, totally not. “The doctor? Yeah, that guy? I think that there’s something up with him.” He hit at his glove box, opening it. As his eyes flicked from the road to his hand, he grabbed a plastic-wrapped volume of Master Ultimate: the Dark Side. He flicked through the corners of the pages as his wheel jiggled from right to left and his eyes searched for— “This panel, right here— ya see that…uh, that lab coat in the corner?” He looked back at the road just in time to pull himself back into the right lane as he held the book open for his passenger seat rider to view. “The one with the blood all over it— I think that that’s a sign that the doctor is actually not a doctor. That’s what I’ve figured— everyone’s talking about how he’s Master Ultimate out of costume, but I actually think that he’s the villain.”

He paused for a moment. “Also, I brought money for McDonald’s,” he said, rather randomly. “So, uh…we’re gonna stop by there, too.”

He glanced in his rearview mirror at Alex for a second before looking back at the book. “I mean, all of the signs are there for the villain route. I mean, his girlfriend— the golden woman, whoever she is— in costume is a patient out of costume, right? So her talking about her boyfriend is a tipping off Master Ultimate,” he stated matter-of-factly. “It’s not a code way of telling him what to do— it’s just her accidentally telling the villain what’s going on.”

He pulled into the McDonald’s parking lot, and, for a moment, he sat parked in the drive-thru, his brain wholly occupied on the conversation at hand. “See, they’re purposefully misleading you— going the red herring route. Works every time, but I’m not falling for it.”

He paused another moment, looking ahead as his one-handed grip tightened on the wheel.

He’d practiced for this encounter in the mirror, so…

Yeah. He had this. He could do it.

“W-What…uh, do you want?” he asked, the anxiety setting in as he asked the question.


code by ditto (head empty go bonk)
 
fillerfillerfillfillerfillerfillerlerfilelifr 2:45 PM fillerfillerfillerfillerfillerfillerfillerfilr
Connor
INTERACTIONS

Leea, Angie

MENTIONS

N/A




When Connor had asked for the universe to "kill him now," it had apparently misconstrued his phrase and instead, chose to send yet another girl over into their midst. It was evident that she had no idea how to read a room as she approached them, but Connor did his best to keep the irritation off of his face. His expression remained stoic -- which, in all reality, wasn't a difficult thing to do when he could honestly care less about this entire situation.

His words inevitably convinced the... snake ring girl to leave, her braids smacking him and Leea as she turned from them. His lips curled back into a small snarl of disgust which quickly faded when she paused beside them to whisper something -- inviting them to head outside to the entrance of the mall and meet with her.

Okay.

So he hadn't completely fucked them over.

And... maybe... going somewhere more secluded would be for the better. If they had to subdue her and kidnap the bitch because Leea's vision said they needed to or blah, blah -- whatever it might be, it would probably be better done if they were somewhere else. Somewhere that didn't leave them with cameras and people watching.

Leea snapped at the other girl -- the one trying to sell the ring -- and then tugged at his arm for them to go.

"Sorry, thanks for the offer." He told her, offering the faintest, albeit most awkward, of smiles before allowing himself to be tugged out of the jewelry store by his much smaller, albeit more intimidating, companion.

His long strides kept up with Leea easily as she hurried them out until, instead of dragging them towards the mall entrance, she tugged Connor down a side hallway and into a family bathroom. What the fuck?

And of course, she started to lecture him. And of course, most of it went in one ear and out the other, so to speak. Connor didn't shut down, per say, he just really didn't care. He knew that he should care -- Leea was making all good points -- but it was just the way she always spoke down to him that made Connor's eyes glaze over and his brain shut down.

Until the crazy bitch was cutting his cheek.

Connor didn't flinch. He felt the prick of the knife, and felt the faint sensation of warm blood trickling down his cheek, but that was it as she pressed the switchblade into his hand.

Right. He was the muscle. All muscle, no brains.

Fitting, really.

He slid the switchblade into his pocket and then leveled his gaze at Leea. "Alright, alright." He said, finally speaking as he held his hands up in a surrendering gesture. "I get it. You're the brains, I'm just there to stab her if she tries to attack us." Or, you know, be a human shield if necessary. The only thing he was really good at.

One hand fell back to his side while his other hand reached up to wipe away the bit of blood that was leftover from his already healed cheek. Well. A benefit to his abilities? His crazy ass friend could cut him and no one would ever have any idea. Cue rolling of the eyes, except not his actual eyes because hell, he didn't need Leea getting pissy over that, too.

"Go ahead, lead the way."


code by ditto (head empty go bonk)
 








Aster




MOOD: interrogatin
LOCATION: aster's place
OUTFIT: clothes
TAGS: ditto ditto
MENTIONS: n/a
Aster narrowed his eyes with a deep mistrust for Brahm, the comfort brought by man's easygoing smile progressively converting to something far more unnerving. But you are intruding... Aster could smell it. There was more to this seemingly simple man; that was clear enough based on his insistence on continuing this conversation. He asked too many questions. And, in hindsight, he'd been steering the conversation the entire time.

Brahm's assertion about some elementary search for "the truth" was a crock of shit and they both knew it. There was more than meets the eye, although by that point that fact was something Brahm likely wanted him to know. Aster's understanding of the situation hinged on the information the other man was willing to share, as it was clear it would be impossible to pry anything off of Brahm he didn't intend on providing. His honeyed words carried no weight after it had dawned on Aster that he'd been played like a fiddle. Him of all people, a quick-witted guy who was more often than not a deceiver rather than the one being deceived. In this case, though, he'd met his match.

Oh, who was he kidding? Aster had been entirely blind to what was going on up until that point. And even then, as he preemptively readied himself for a mental onslaught against the man in front of him, Brahm (if that even was his name), Aster felt a tinge of fear at the thought of whatever sinister motive this man could have tactfully, yet firmly pressing him for information. For the first time in forever, Aster felt real, true fear, even if it was just a small, nagging premonition that something was very off. He felt sick to his stomach upon hearing the word "star" slip out of Brahm's mouth, causing his entire body to tense up further.

The dark-haired man was utterly frozen in place as Brahm crept closer, feeling like an ordinary man facing a giant looming over him. As kindly as he was speaking, the content of their discussion boiled down to the fact that Brahm had the conversational upper hand, a truth that wasn't to be taken lightly. Aster felt incredibly challenged by Brahm's assertions, although his desire to speak had been snuffed out entirely. His lips glued shut, he could only listen, dumbstruck, as the man spoke circles around him.

Aster's blood turned to ice as soon as Brahm came out and called him on his lie. It felt like a punch to the stomach and he had to restrain himself from lurching forward with shock. He collected himself enough to admit coolly, "Yes. I have a reason for being here, and I'm sure by now you can deduce what it's related to." He glared back at him, frustrated he'd been so irresponsible in getting into this situation. He felt backed into a corner, even if he'd only taken a minor step back from Brahm, who was closer to the door than he was. There was no easy way to evade this confrontation.

"If you've got me all figured out, then just come out and say it," he countered, his voice dropping an octave lower as his agitation shined through the cracks in his flimsy act, "What do you want? And what can you do to help me?" He hadn't explicitly agreed with the notion that he'd seen the stars himself, but the man seemed dead set on the idea. Aster didn't need to say anything. Without knowing it, all his cards had been slammed onto the table by force, leaving him in a hopeless checkmate.

"So it seems we're similarly motivated," he observed, releasing his breath as Brahm admitted his own guarded secret and essentially answering his questions. Aster had never met someone else like him and he wasn't sure whether to be terrified or joyful. On one hand, he could prove to be a great source of information, but on the other hand, he could easily be a liability. Or worse, a threat to everything that he stood to gain from this determined pursuit.

"This isn't the place to be discussing this," he stated, peering over Brahm's shoulder for any signs of unwanted attention coming from the hallway, "Follow me."

Without missing a beat, Aster pushed past Brahm and exited the laundry room, making his way down the hall and to his apartment. He checked periodically to see if Brahm was following, wondering if he made the right choice. The short walk was silent; he had nothing to say to the man that he didn't want heard by potential eyewitnesses out in the open.

Once he made it to his door, Aster unlocked it, dropping his keys twice and fumbling with the lock for a considerable amount of time. Something appeared to be slightly off with the key—just Aster's luck.

As soon as they were inside, he locked the door behind them and immediately sprung back into action. "Tell me everything you know," he ordered, making do with the fact that he was in no position to be making real demands, "Are you going to be a threat to me? What's your true motive? Did you really see the stars too?"

He paused to get a hold on his lingering apprehension, resigning to the fact that he'd crossed past the point of no return. "And finally, what is your power? Your ability? I meant it when I said to tell me everything. I won't accept anything less."

Brahm had already proven to be a master at outfoxing unsuspecting people. But Aster was no longer unsuspecting. And he'd keep on the defensive as long as he had any doubts about the integrity of the mysterious figure he'd allowed into his home.

code by low fidelity.
 
there is not
always a good guy

nor is there
always a bad one

most people are
somewhere in between

BRAHM LOVELESS
Mood
• Talkin’. Jus’ talkin’. •

Location
• Aster’s apartment •

Mentions
• N/A •

Interactions
• Aster •

Tags
hery hery


Brahm had hit the nail on the head, it seemed. This was only solidified by the fact that Aster seemed to just now be realizing all of what had occurred, like a rabbit panicking when it realized that it had run headfirst in a trap as the hand of a hunter approached. The panic in his eyes did not seem to phase Brahm; even the forced coolness of the other man’s voice that warned of his fear caused no shift in Brahm’s expression as it had before.

“This isn’t the place to be discussing this,” Aster finally concluded. “Follow me.”

This odd man was requesting privacy— no, demanding it. Was this a stupid action for somehow who seemed so near prey? To be demanding council with the predator? Or was it brave?

Brahm chuckled briefly in amusement as the other man rushed into the hallway. The blonde man stood in place for a few more moments, watching the washing machine as it shook, tossing his clothes around inside of it, considering his course of actions before he exited and followed behind Aster.

Brahm forced himself keep his breathing steady as he moved his feet behind the other man.

Sixty beats per minute...forty...

Slower...slower...

He could feel the blood moving through his veins.

Blood...

Grimacing and clenching his jaw, he shifted the muscles in his back, trying his best to stifle the pain with gritted teeth and a hiss through his teeth.

Breathe.

He stumbled a step, letting out a soft gasp, but he regained his footing quickly, clenching his jaw and grabbing ahold of the back of robe and tugging it harshly.

Once Aster opened the door, Brahm entered in, trying to maintain his slow, steady breathing as he made his way to the man’s bed and casually lowered himself onto it as the other man began to interrogate him.

His gaze was calm and his tone was casual as he gazed at Aster’s face, smiling. “Makin’ demands? That’s a bit inconsiderate, don’t’cha think?” he laughed easily, as if he weren’t in a strangers room who he knew had powers. There was no trace of fear in his face or voice; his breathing was steady. He grit his teeth for a moment, and his brows flinched for an instant before his calm expression resumed itself.

He met Aster’s eyes. “Ya know, Ah’d ask a lot nicer. Thin’s are just much more pleasant when yer amicable than anythin’ else.” His toes curled within his fish slippers. “Hostility only reaps hostility; respect reaps respect. Ah want ta have a nice, calm conversation, startin' on whatever topic falls onta us naturally.”

(The carpet felt rough and dirty against his skin; it nearly made him make a noise of disgust.) “Askin’ everythin' Ah know is a lot. See, thur’s somethin’ thur ta be said about forwardness, but Ah think that it’s much easier ta jus’ have thin’s revealed in time. Either that, er ya find ‘em yerself, er ya ask politely.” He smiled another easy smile. “Now, ya see, that first question ya asked is a real thinker. Am Ah a threat…? Do ya mean, do Ah mean ta cause ya harm, and, if so, what kind? Is that what ya mean?” His questions seemed to be rhetorical.

He slowly shifted forward on the bed, maintaining his eye contact. “Now, that’s somethin’ Ah gotta think about,” he reiterated. “Yer askin’: do Ah want ta bring ya harm…? Ah’ll answer with: not necessarily. Did Ah come here to cause harm…?” He paused a moment, looking up at the ceiling and smiling. “Hmm…Ah wouldn’t say that Ah came with that intention either.” He leaned back slightly. “Ah cain’t say fer sure what you mean, but that’s what Ah’m assumin’. Now, if yer askin’ if Ah’m more powerful than you— and if Ah threaten yer plans…Ah am unsure if Ah can answer that. Perhaps you will have ta answer that yerself.”

He paused a beat. “In due time, you will understand what Ah mean by all’a that. Ah’m not goin’ ta tell ya everythin’ ya know—“ He met his eyes or something. “From what Ah can tell, you are no threat to me.” Another moment passed. “If ya would like ta try an’ prove me wrong on that front, Ah’d request that you not do it now. Ah’m not much of a fighter, ya see, an’ if thur is goin’ ta be a fight, Ah’d like ta have a time, date, an’ location fer that.” Another beat passed. “Ya ask me if Ah saw that stars,” he said, circling back to the third question that the stranger had asked. “Ah will tell ya this bit’a knowledge— an’ listen closely—“

He met his eyes, pausing for a long moment. (The wall’s peeling paint was an odd texture— something like sandpaper.) “Everyone ya see that has powers? They saw tha stars. An’ tha thin’ is, anyone can have powers. Anyone here could have seen tha stars. Ah am not a sinister creature, an’ Ah believe that Ah have made that clear in my speakin’ with you. Ah mean no harm, an’ Ah’m as genuine as cun be. But everyone else…Ah wouldn’t have as much faith in them. Keep yer guard up. Anyone could penetrate it at any moment.” His words of warning were delivered in his casual, nearly cheerful manner, as if his ominous warnings were nothing more than light conversation about the weather. “You asked me my power, an’ Ah don’t know how ta answer you that. You see, there’s one important thin’ ta have in this world. What’s that? A well-kept secret. One locked away to never be uttered and to only be discovered. If Ah were ta say my ability, who is ta say that you won’t repeat that? Even then, who’s to say that my words are true? Ah could be lyin’ right to yer face if Ah said that my powers were this or that or this or that and you would be none the wiser. An’ that’s tha thin’— ya cain’t trust nobody. Ya cain’t trust me, an’ Ah cain’t trust you. That’s why, in times like these, seein’ is believin’. Feelin' is believin’. Hearin’? Well, that don’t do ya no good. Whether ya accept everythin’ or not, Ah could care less. That’s not what matters, an’ it’s not what’s good fer ya ta here, anyway.”

(Everything was in place. Waiting.)

His eyes flicked to be sure that his senses were correct.

(They were.)

“As fer tha answer to yer second question…” His voice trailed off for a second as his eyes studied something just behind Aster’s head.

(Three.)

“Ah will give you an honest answer on that matter, if ya really want ta know.”

(Two.)

“Ah came…”

His eyes locked with Aster’s.

(One.)

All at once, all that Brahm had been setting up since he had exited the laundry room was revealed—

Magenta tendrils snapped to wrap around Aster’s throat, wrists, and ankles, constricting just tightly enough to be uncomfortable.

A grin spread across Brahm’s face. “…ta get stronger, an’ Ah’ll do whatever it takes ta get it.”


code by ditto (head empty go bonk)
 
Last edited:
a wrong-doer
is often a man

that has left something
undone

not always one who
has done something

LEEA PRESCOTT
Mood
{ Time. Is. Ticking. }

Location
{ Bathroom —> Back of the mall }

Mentions
{ N/A }

Interactions
{ Connor, Angela }

Tags
{ Winona Winona }
{ fancries1 fancries1 }


“I’m glad that we’re clear.” A smile crept onto Leea’s face as she stepped back from Connor and turned her back to him. Glancing over her shoulder, she offered another piece of advice: “Act natural.”

With that, she tugged open the bathroom door, the lock popping as she held the door open for her crony, and she began to make her way out to the back.

She kept her eyes ahead, a smile on her face as she quickened her pace. She made sure that she didn’t stick out, but they needed to get where they were going.

As.

Quick.

As.

Possible.

Every second counted.

Every second that they weren’t there, the woman could have been setting up a trap for the two of them.

Every second that they weren’t there, a second was taken off of the margin for error—

And God knew, with someone with as few brain cells as the man walking behind her, they needed the largest margin for error as possible.

She pushed out of the front doors, keeping her back straight as she began to trek back to the back of the mall. Her eyes studied the top of the building, eyeing out the cameras, until they got to a point that there were none.

She looked straight ahead, and she spotted the very woman in question.

“Hello,” Leea greeted. “It’s a pleasure to see you again.” She gave Connor a small glance, a little, silent ready yourself.

They needed to watch her moves carefully. Subtly, Leea tried to study the area behind the other woman’s head.

She saw nothing out of place, but that meant nothing.

Tick tick...the time to figure out what this attack would be was moving down.

“So the ring?” Leea asked, looking ahead once more. “What will you take for it, hmm?” She smiled at her. “I’m willing to negotiate.”


code by ditto (head empty go bonk)
 
Last edited:








Lex




MOOD: nerding
LOCATION: mickey d's
OUTFIT: clothes
TAGS: ditto ditto fancries1 fancries1
MENTIONS: Alex, Sam
It wasn't weird for Lex to be hanging around with a guy that had already graduated from his school, right? Well, Lex didn't feel weird about it, but he wanted to make sure Alex didn't feel weird. Like, the guy was only a year above him, but who knows what kind of weird stigma goes on in that area? Lex wasn't exactly well-versed in the science of friendship, which was probably apparent based on the fact that his five closest confidants were his mom, some recent party acquaintance, the guy that was friends with literally everybody in high school, someone's dad, and perhaps the only other guy that could be considered more of a social outcast than Lex: Sam.

Normally, it would have felt like such a privilege to have such a cool, popular, jockish guy at his house calling him his friend, but when the guy had as nonselective of a friend pool as Alex did, what did that even matter? Nevertheless, the soft-spoken boy was grateful to have a friend who listened, and perhaps a glimpse into what somewhat of an ordinary, socially confident person might be like.

As comfortable as Lex was around his similarly-named companion, he was embarrassed to the ends of the Earth due to his mom's overly-eager catering to his very few friends. The entire time Alex was over, his mother by periodically to check on them, offering food, money, all expenses paid trips to the Caribbean... anything to keep Lex's roster of friends from diminishing. Look, if Lex was any angsty, ordinary teen, he'd have left subtle, but derisive remarks to get his mom to allow them some privacy. Unfortunately for him, his role was more often than not saying nothing so as to appease others and avoid conflict. And hey, Mom was having fun, right? Who was Lex to spoil her personal victory over Lex's budding social life?

"Yeah, I wish I could have gotten a job this summer. I bet we could have worked together and everything," Lex lamented, standing with his hands in his pocket out on the front lawn, "I gave my application to the lady and everything, but I don't think she really did anything with it. Like, I came back two days later and the paper was in the same spot, but I didn't really wanna presume anything, because what if she really had read the paper and just remembered exactly where to put it, down to the millimeter, you know?" The blonde boy shook his head and sighed, realizing how meek he must have sounded.

A few moments later, Sam finally arrived outside his house. Lex stared blankly back at his friend as he made an attempt at a "cool guy" gesture, noting how awkwardly long it took for the car window to roll down and back up. A small grin formed on his face as he looked at Sam, then back at Alex. He strolled over to the car, gingerly removing a receipt off of the passenger seat before sitting down and buckling himself in. "Hey, Sam," he greeted, folding his hands on his lap as the car took off.

Lex's eyes lit up like a thunderbolt at the mention of his new obsession in the comic book world: Master Ultimate: The Dark Side. "No, no, no, you've got it all wrong, dude," he rebutted, a newfound courage entering his voice, "The doctor's the only one we can trust, for like, that exact reason. See, the coat's a nod to the lab escape from volume four. You can tell by the blood's slightly orangeish tint, if you squint real close." He pointed to the coat then leaned his head in, trying to determine whether it was the trademark orange blood of Subject 1337 or cheeto residue.

Before Lex could get a good enough glimpse, his body was jerked to the side due to Sam's reckless driving and he let out a sharp gasp. He looked back at Alex, then at Sam, wide-eyed, but as soon as he'd been shaken, Sam was already safely in the right lane. He realized he'd stuffed his hand into his pocket once Sam had grabbed the wheel, as the peril of a potential car crash sent a tiny, involuntary spark out of his index finger. Lex began to feel a little clammy wondering how badly things could have gone if he'd failed to hide it in time.

He waited until Sam looked back at the book after they'd turned, trying to compose himself after having his life flash before his eyes. Not that that was an uncommon occurrence, given how many times Lex had been rudely surprised in his life. "S-so, anyway," he stammered, working his brain harder to recollect his thoughts, "We know by now the villain was across the country hunting Detective Magenta when that happened, plus Master Ultimate is one of the few people with a resistance to the toxic blood. It just make sense for it to be him."

He spent the next minute taking in Sam's theories as they entered the vicinity of the McDonald's, a serious, pensive expression stuck to his face. "The golden woman bit is plausible, and it would be really cool, but I just can't accept that outright if the rest of the evidence doesn't hold up. If you ask me, it's one of those obvious answers disguised as a red herring. It's totally way simpler and more complicated than everyone is making it out to be."

Lex felt uncharacteristically assertive and exhilarated after sharing his piece. He scanned the comic multiple times over with a smile, just to be sure. He then turned around and showed the comic to Alex, pointing to several key panels, some like the rotten grape one more than once, mostly for comedic effect. Lex was an avid reader of comics and fancied himself somewhat of an expert in the graphic novel genre, so he knew he a cleverly placed joke amplified by appropriate emanata when he saw one. "What do you think, Alex? Is the doctor the villain or Master Ultimate. Or... neither!? Or both!?"

Sam's voice beside him dragged Lex's thoughts away from the comic and to the real world, a place he never realized he left so often until he was back.

Oh no. Oh, no, no, no. Lex didn't do on the spot ordering. He'd hardly gotten a chance to look at the menu! And now the voice through the little speaker was expectantly inquiring about their order, which Lex didn't have the faintest idea where to start with. "I, uh... I don't know. I'll just have what you're having," he uselessly answered, now even more anxious than he was when he was about to die earlier because of a comic book-crazed incel's distractedness and poor driving, "Maybe a, uh, burger or fries or something. Or nuggets. Or an ice cream cone. Or a water. I-I mean, I'm cool with anything."

code by low fidelity.
 

OUTFIT: xoxo

MOOD: "i have more important things to do."
basics

liam. logan.

mentions
Clarissa Taylor
claire ~ 22 ~ pansexual ~ pain inducement

The previous regret of Claire's comments was short lived as she saw Liam’s smug expression still planted confidently on his face. It didn’t waiver even a tad bit when she mentioned Logan and for some reason that pissed her off. Why was she angry that it didn’t bother him? Was it just because his own comment had bothered her more than she cared to admit? It had been years and yet here he was bringing it up as if it had just happened weeks ago or something.

So what? Claire slept with his brother. Boo-freaking-hoo. If she was completely honest, the younger Townes brother was considerably better in bed anyway. If he assumed or even hoped that she regretted cheating on him, he was sorely mistaken. Just get over it. This encounter was becoming even more pointless by the minute as he offered to buy her coffee and...catch up? Was that a joke?

"Come now, I'll buy you a cup of coffee and perhaps we can catch up. I would love to know what has been happening with you since we last spoke."

Okay, first off, Claire could buy her own coffee. That wasn't a dig at the fact that her parents had cut her off from her inheritance not long after he left town, was it? No. He didn't even know about that... Actually, it wasn't too far fetched to say he might know but whatever. The point was she didn't need his charity or to sit down and have a drink wi-

"Time to bury the hatchet, wouldn't you say? Especially if you're still... dating my brother."

Ugh. It was definitely a joke at least to her. Claire didn't even bother correcting him when he mentioned dating. She knew that his comment was just something to get under her skin. Surely he was well aware that Logan wasn't dating anyone, let alone her.

"Well, delightful as that sounds I think I'll have to pass. As I said before, I have much more important things to do than hang around you. Next time?" her British accent again seeped through, hanging on every word. They both knew that sitting down for lunch was out of the question and would only happen if they spontaneously decided not to despise one another again. So basically, never.

Without another word, Claire spun around on her heels and made her way back to her car, no fancy tea was worth standing in line next to that asshole for. Not even Starbucks. She would rather stab herself in the eye ten times with a hot knife than continue to talk to him. Pulling out her phone, she sent a quick text before pulling out of the parking lot, this time opting for music rather than silence like before.

Be there in ten. Just ran into your brother. Good to see he's still charming as ever. *inset eyeroll emoji here*

As promised, Claire pulled up to the Townes residence in just under ten minutes and stepped out of the car. Walking into the mechanic shop that was connected to the home, she heard some noises, and then her eyes landed on Logan. Two for two. Running into Liam had brought back a few emotions; anger, irritation, and nostalgia. The last one being something she wasn't going to admit out loud. Seeing Logan right now brought up different feelings but the main one could be labeled simply as nausea.

"You know, a little heads up would've been nice. I wasn't aware Liam was back in Wilmont," she said the words but it wasn't what she really needed to say. She'd told him she wanted to come here for a reason and now she was stalling. Dancing around the real point of her presence. "He's still a real prick so I guess college doesn't change you much after all," she added, this time offering a forced smirk as she walked around one of the toolboxes sitting on the floor.

As she looked Logan over a million thoughts raced through her head but there was only one that she needed to actually get out. Just pit it out already, Claire.
code by valen t.
 
Last edited:
mood :
He a little confused but he got the spirit

location :
Sam's car
outfit :

Da fit
mentions :
None

interactions :
hery hery , ditto ditto
Hayes
;; Alex
It was a lovely afternoon and Alex Hayes was gladly spending it the way he liked the most; lazing around in someone else's house, mouth stuffed of whatever he'd found in the kitchen or in this case, whatever Lex's mom had brough him to eat. He wondered if that was some kind of mom thing he'd never heard about (or experienced, sad violin noises). Was she constantly bringing Lex food and checking on him every couple of seconds? Or was she only doting on them because her son had a friend over? Either way, he loved it. And he'd made sure to use her hospitality to the best of his abilities. Now in his second plate of chocolate chip cookies and orange juice, Alex made a mental note to come over to Lex's house more often.

Not that he hadn't been spending few time with Lex anyways, quite the contrary. High School had been over for him for what seemed like an eternity, and with most of the people in his grade or older either in college or at work, it left him with the current senior as his favorite choice for a hangout buddy. Besides, it felt good being able to talk to someone who wasn't so... grown up. Someone he could just reminisce about High School with without being bombarded with the dreaded "are you going to college?" "what are you going to study? "when are you gonna get a real job?" questions. Not to mention the brief relief from the everlasting and constantly growing existential dread he suffered from at the mere prospect of his future and life. Having no real plan for the future and no ambitions made it so he had little to nothing to look forward to. No goal to work towards. Nothing to go to from here. But at the same time, did he really want to be one of those people who just stuck around in his hometown his entire life? Maybe with a wife and a couple of kids once he was older, but then the only thing he would have to look back on would be his High School years when being a popular jock was all he had to be. His life was passing him by and he was acting as nothing but an observer, apathetically watching everyone progress around him while he was still there, amounting to nothing. Then again, it was possible that it was simply all life had ready for Alex. The only thing destiny had prepared for him and it was silly to give it any more thought. There was, after all, nothing he could do to change things.

Being an adult sucked.

Oblivious to his inner turmoil, Lex continued rambling on about work and how sad it was that he hadn't been able to get a job with him. Alex chuckled, he barely did any work anyways, he couldn't even imagine how little he would get done with Lex there to serve as a distraction.

"Nah dude, you're overthinking it. My manager is evil anyways, she probably only left your application laying there to make you mad." He commented, his eyebrows furrowing a bit at the thought of that woman. He was by no means a good employee, granted, but man was she awful. Always angry and eager to let it out on her underpaid, mostly underaged, employees. Fortunatedly for them, Alex was the worst member of the team by far - to the point some of his co-workers wondered if being shit as his job was simply a game for Alex or if he was trying to set a world record for most fireable offences. And fireable they were. He'd lost track of how many times he'd gone home without a job, not really sad as much as relieved for not having to put up with it anymore, only to be called back a day later with an unexplainable raise.

If the poor boy had more than one braincell, he would've connected the dots and realized that his incredibly controlling sister, the one with mind control powers who was also the only person who wanted him to keep his job, had something to do with his manager's moodswings. Alex, however, apart from not being the brightest one around, was also incredibly trusting. So the theory of his manager having an evil twin who she switched shifts with was his best bet.

"Give me your application and I'll give it to her with a recommendation from her most, er, entertaining employee," he said with confidence, despite knowing all the flaws in his plan. "Worst that could happen is that you get rejected, I get fired again, and we both look for a job somewhere else. Anywhere with cuter costumers."

It didn't take long for Sam to pick them up, as awkwardly and sad as he remembered him. He hadn't changed a bit, but Alex didn't mind. He knew of Sam's reputation as a "creepy little incel rat," (his sister's words, not his), but he didn't want to judge the guy to heavily before properly meeting him. If he was Lex's friend, then he was cool in his book.

"Ey, Samuel! How's it going, man? Long time no see!" he exclaimed, a bit louder than he was sure the other two were comfortable with, and greeted Sam with a fist bump. And before he knew it, they were off. Both Sam and Lex engrosed by the most riveting and interesting conversation on... comic book villains. Cool. Very cool.

As fascinated as he was certain the conversation was, it wasn't as gripping as his social media profiles, which kept him entertained as the two rambled on and on about who the best superhero or supervillain or super...whatever was. It wasn't until Lex shoved the comic book into his face that he started paying attention again. The comic told him absolutedly nothing for his answer, damn. Lex hadn't told him that being quizzed was part of the plan today. Not that he would've studied, but still.

"Uh...Doctors are there to help people, how could a doctor be bad? Plus, Master Ultimate? That sounds so much more badass! Yeah, Ultimate for sure. No contest." Alex had no idea what he was saying, but he doubted they expected any better from him. But then, before Lex could continue with any more questions, they were asked for their order. Finally, something he knew the answer to! "Big Mac, small fries, and coke for me!" he shouted out, making sure the employee could hear him from where he sat.

"So, where we going after this? Whatever it is, I'm game."

coded by reveriee.
 
the urge to
save humanity

is almost always
a false

front for the
urge to rule

SAM MAEGER
Mood
[ Exploring time ]

Location
[ The woods (well, not in them yet ]

Mentions
[ N/A ]

Interactions
[ Lex, Alex ]

Tags
[ hery hery fancries1 fancries1 ]


Sail swallowed hard, smiling awkwardly at his friend and the backseat football guy. Come on, man…please don’t make me choose for you…, he groaned inwardly at Lex’s stammering that mimicked his own. “Burger…,” he repeated, and he forced a chuckle that came out goat-ish. Was that the place for a forced chuckle? Absolutely not. Did Sam really know social cues well? Look in his passenger seat to see the kind of people he surrounded himself in and then try to ask that again with a straight face. “Nuggets, uh, and fries? And an ice cream cone? And…water.”

His hand found the button to roll down his window as the jack dude answered with confidence, and he looked over at the pole, as if it took eye contact for it to understand him. “Ah…uhm, and, uh, one other…” Shit. “No, no, uh, two other burgers, and, uh, fries. And…uh, make them…uhm, extra large fries?” Wait, that wasn’t a thing— the McDonald’s menu expert knew that much. “Er, wait, no, uh…two fries. Large fries. And, uh, nuggets. Uhm…twenty piece. And uh…I’ll take a large Sprite…and…uh…a water.”

There was a pause, and then, in a shriek, the box came to life again. “I’m sorry, sir, can you repeat that?”

No, no, no…

Sam forced a chuckle. “Ah, I said…uh…” His voice trailed off as he tried to remember the order and push the words from his mouth intelligibly.

“I got a Big Mac, small fries, and medium coke,” said the box. “What else?”

“That!” he agreed, forcing a laugh. “That, yeah. I want that, and…two more of those? Except for, uh, make one with water? So three of that order, but, uh, one with…with water, and I also want a twenty-piece nugget. And, uh, a small vanilla cone.”

Nailed it!

There were a few seconds of pause, and then came the question that caused Sam’s awkward smile to shift into something a bit more triumphant: “Is that all for today?”

“Uh huh,” he answered, and he began to pull forward before the person could even finish saying his total— which he realized, a bit too late, was not what he was supposed to do. He slammed his brakes, which caused a shriek, and he shoved his stick into reverse and pulled back to the box. “Huh?”

“I…your total is—“ The voice at the box gave the total again.

“I see. Thanks,” Sam said, and he began to pull forward again, kicking himself.

Ugh, that was so awkward! Why couldn’t he even order food right?

Alex’s question fell on his ears without them registering, and when they did register, it had already been twenty or so seconds.

“Oh, uh, sorry,” he stammered quickly when he realized this. He forced another goat-isn laugh. “It’s, uh…so…” He glanced at the window, making sure that it was shut before he divulged the great tale of where they were going and why. He turned to Alex and began to tell the tale in a hushed voice. “There was this rich dude— George Bachman— who lived in the woods because he didn’t want to spend all of his money on a mansion. He ate from cans and, uh…yeah, all of that stuff that homeless people do…and, uh, yeah, he buried all of his money in boxes in the woods.” He paused a second, and he realized that that second was too long and coughed awkwardly. “So, uh…yeah, man. I bought a metal detector.” Well, his parents did. “We’re going…to, uh, go search for some treasure.” He finished his story with a too-bright grin, and then turned around to face his wheel once more as the window slid open.

Two minutes of awkwardly accepting the plethora of food— Sam had kinda panicked, okay? He didn’t realize how much he’d gotten— and handing it to Lex and then back to Alex when Lex’s lap got full later, and Sam began to pull out onto the road again, holding his hand out for his part of the food. “So, uh…yeah, like I was saying. This is an adventure.” He paused, and then he forced another goat-isn laugh as it registered what Alex had said literally just as he got into his car. “Also, it’s not Samuel— it’s Sail, but it’s Sam.”

Long story— his parents were hippie dopeheads for a long time, okay?

Pulling out a comic book, Sam resumed his chatter with Lex about the comic, exhaustedly explaining a theory that hinged on one minor detail between bites of his food and sips of his Coke, his rough driving not seeming to phase him.

Before too long, he pulled up to their destination: the woods just outside of the city limits. He parked on the shoulder of the road (and nearly in the ditch), and then he turned to Lex, crumpling up the wrapper of his final food item as he asked, through a stuffed mouth, “Are you two ready for this?”


code by ditto (head empty go bonk)
 








Aster




MOOD: shookethin
LOCATION: aster's place
OUTFIT: clothes
TAGS: ditto ditto
MENTIONS: n/a
Aster's eyes followed Brahm, his deep mistrust in its entirety exposed to the man sitting on his bed. He spoke so calmly despite Aster's sudden hostility and, while the shorter man liked to think he wasn't nearly as anxious as he was years ago, Brahm's friendly attitude was a little frightening. Aster stood over him with crossed arms, yet even that firm stance wasn't enough to stubbornly casual dynamic Brahm was pushing.

He offered no reply to the blonde man, frustrated with his apparent nonchalance over the whole thing. He'd been trying to get a solid read on him for ages, yet even his mind seemed to be an expert at concealing his emotions. The guy had hidden himself deep, which was apparent by the meager hint of something that flashed on Brahm's face. Aster picked it up with his power, tracing an internal blip of negative emotion within him. It was too faint to decipher whether it was fear, agitation, or something else, but it was enough to keep Aster invested. His early activation of his powers seemed to work in his favor, as if he hadn't been using them to scour Brahm's mind for the blackness within he wouldn't have detected anything out of the ordinary.

"I'm not one for idle chitchat," Aster shot back, refusing to make peace with the possibility that Brahm may never get to the point, "I don't see how all of this formality is necessary given the circumstances. And I especially don't see how kidding ourselves with some lighthearted conversation furthers your agenda." He met Brahm's gaze straight back, his hazel eyes sending a message of unwavering confrontation.

He relented, nodding with a highly pensive face as Brahm went through the questions, some answers vaguer than others. "Most people's endeavors don't start with the intention to harm," he countered matter-of-factly, keeping his mind's eye—and his real eyes—out for anything fishy, "It's those who are open to it that you need to watch for." His stare intensified, returning none of the pleasant energy Brahm was sending to him. If he was still adhering to his superficiality, there was even more cause for concern. It was obvious Aster knew there was something off about the guy. At least, he was pretty sure there was. What was truly scary, though, was his decision to maintain this gregarious persona. That only told Aster there was even more hidden beneath what Brahm had already offered, like an onion of deceit.

Aster lost his cool composure for a moment when Brahm stated outright that he wasn't threatened by him, but he couldn't find the words to refute what he'd said. This guy sure was an arrogant asshole under that cheery exterior of his. Assessing threats when they'd hardly gotten acquainted... what gave him the right? He didn't even know a thing about Aster's power, so there was no logical way he could have made that assumption.

He was bluffing, of course. He couldn't have analyzed Aster's mental state from this interaction alone; Aster had hardly gotten a clear picture of who he was talking to himself. All he had deduced was that there was virtually nothing he could get off of the guy. Nevertheless, he did his best to rid his face of the awe painted over it moments ago and nodded in agreement that a fight in the current moment was something neither of them wanted. "Again, formalities. I'm not asking to schedule a duel. The last thing I want is to fight anyone if I can help it."

Aster listened with evident intrigue, as opposed to his previous unfriendly disposition. "So it seems you know as least as much as I do." He averted his eyes from the man sitting in front of him, thinking hard. "If not more," he added with a drawl, remaining confident in his decision to admit his ignorance. Aster had to learn everything he could. That was the only thing he knew for sure that he had to do and if it meant sacrificing a bit of his pride to get through to this guy, he'd do it.

"And yes, the concept of trust is not beyond me. Asking questions isn't all about the right answer. Sometimes it's about catching lies, expressing doubt, clarifying misconceptions..." He paused to check the clock on his nightstand. "...and sometimes, witnessing someone evade direct questions is all you need."

Only a few moments later, all at once Aster felt his limbs and neck being constricted by a sudden force. He grunted gracelessly. Panic set into his eyes as he began to realize what was happening. The dark-haired man instinctively stretched his neck up and leaned his head backwards as the firm grip of the tendrils squeezed him. He wasn't in danger of serious harm due to their safely loose hold on him, but it was enough to shock him into action. "What the hell are you doing, you sadistic freak!?" he barked, tugging and tensing his muscles in a vain effort to release himself from the tendrils' hold. Without thinking, Aster jerked his arms to the side and shook his leg, fighting to release himself from Brahm's trap. Overcome with consternation, he looked back at the grinning man and, gritting his teeth, locked eyes with an unrivaled, burning intensity.

Not a moment later, Aster felt as though he'd left his body and drifted straight into Brahm's deep, blue eyes until he was so far in that there was only pitch black as far as the eye could see.

His figure, wandering deep in this abyss of the mind, began to surround itself with a mauve haze until it was transformed completely into a faceless, humanoid shape. Low murmurs could be heard in the distance, gradually increasing in volume as the figure trekked down this pathless recess. The figure shifted from a walk to a run to a sprint, leaving behind thick, misty traces of dark purple in its path. As its speed increased, so did the volume of the murmur, until each step was a hurried, harsh patter drowned out by a garbled mess of screams and shouts.

All that could be heard was bellow after screech and the occasional sharp tap of the figure's hurried footsteps, chasing a nonexistent goal in a never-ending space shrouded in nothing but the dense, oppressive miasma.

Aster saw only mauve through the figure's vapor-coated eyes and felt a deafening hollering penetrating his eardrums until he was sure his ears would bleed. But the figure kept going, every second emitting more haze until all that was visible was a solid mass of gray and purple.

Suddenly, Aster was thrown back into reality, causing him to jolt and blink rapidly for a split second. His eyes peculiarly burned and his heart beat rapidly. When he focused back, he realized he'd directed that cacophony of horrifying disorientation straight forward at the man who he now realized, after getting a better look, had these pesky appendages coming straight out of him like some kind of comic book supervillain.

Aster blanched as he realized what he'd done. All he could focus on was the inexplicable throbbing inside of his ears and the aftermath of the mental onslaught he'd just sowed in the blonde man's brain.

code by low fidelity.
 
mood :
Muahahahaha

location :
Alley Near Mall
outfit :

Da fit

mentions :


interactions :
Winona Winona , ditto ditto
Hayes
Angela
Waiting for others, especially strangers, was something Angie was not used to nor comfortable with. Not in the slightest. It had only been a couple of minutes since she'd arrived to their little rendevouz point, but even the little time that passed proved enough to make her impatient and fidgety. Not out of nerves, no. There was no room for that in the overly confident and arrogant mind of Angela. It was out of sheer excitement, so strong it made her feel like a kid in a candy store again. Contrary to popular belief, Angela had yet to use her powers against someone else out of hatred or revenge; only targeting people for money or to use them as practice dummies. This time, however, it was different. The hairs in her arms rose in anticipation for what was to come.

What better way to see what she was capable of? Maybe if this turned out as well as she expected it to, she could do the same to others. Manipulate them into ruining their own lives. Just the thought of how many people she could get with that made her giddy.

After what seemed like an eternity, the couple finally arrived. The girl taking the lead once again as her male counterpart simply stood there, not doing much. Just as she expected. He hadn't struck her as much back in the jewelry store, just another sad boy cowering behind a woman completely out of his league because they were to incompetent to perform actions as basic as simply carrying a conversation by themselves. She couldn't blame him much though. Had she been born in another inferior body without a hint of her current beauty, she was sure she too would've had a hard time leading a conversation with someone as gorgeous as she was.

The other girl, his soon-to-be-wife, wasn't much of a threat either. Not a threat at all, strictly speaking. She was just a woman who really wanted her ring, but she doubted she would actually do anything dangerous to obtain it. Even so, she wanted her gone. Just the fact that she thought that she could take her precious ring away from her made her blood boil. The audacity of these people, it was disgusting. Luckily, she was there to correct them.

"Oh, please, drop the pleasantries," it was always fun not having to keep the nice act up. There really was no reason to, considering her actions would soon override fake smiles and nice gestures.

As the other girl asked about her ring, Angie slowly inched closer. Taking a few steps forward until she was close enough to stick her hand in their faces, proudly and elegantly displaying her ring. Completely amazed by the way the diamonds glimmered in the streetlight. Truly her most wonderful purchase yet.

"This ring, you mean. My ring. It is beautiful, isn't it? I can see why you would come all the way here and agree to meet with me to get it. How stupid, didn't mommy teach you not to follow strangers?" With every word, she inched closer. Her steps so small they were barely noticeable. She didn't want them to freak out. Not yet, at least.

"If you had this ring, wouldn't you be sad to part with it too? It's something I thought on the way over. I would be crazy to accept an offer from either of you. Both because one: no offense baby but you don't exactly reek of money and two: it's not like any amount of cash you could offer would be enough for me to give you the ring.... Still, I'm sure there's something we could work out."

She was right next to Leea now, her hand delicatedly placed on her shoulder with a tight grip. Still, her eyes focused on Connor, only to make sure he wouldn't try anything while she spoke to his beloved. Moving her lips next to her ear, she used her free hand to cover her mouth, ensuring that no noise would leave and she would accidentally control Connor. There was a time for that later but for now, she just wanted to experiment.

The lovely little tune that she softly sang in the girl's ear was enough for her powers to take over. She noticed the tell-tale signs as the girl's eyes lost their focus and her body quickly lost all signs of tension. "That's better. See that boy over there? He's hurt you, he's hurt you so much. And you hate him. To the point you'll never want to see him again." Angie whispered, briefly considering leaving it at that and just having them break up. But that simply wouldn't be as fun and besides, she was aching for a good show. "In fact, you hate him so much. You never want him to hurt anyone ever again. Earth deserves to be free from vermin like him. Now go, attack!"

As the girl took in her instructions and the ideas she'd inplanted in her head, Angie quickly stepped in order to enjoy the show. Watching with glee as the girl moved to attack the person who she once wanted to spend the rest of her days with as a happy couple. "That'll teach you not to come after my shit, bitch."

She really needed to do this more often.


coded by reveriee.
 
there is not
always a good guy

nor is there
always a bad one

most people are
somewhere in between

BRAHM LOVELESS
Mood
• Still talkin' •

Location
• Aster’s apartment •

Mentions
• N/A •

Interactions
• Aster •

Tags
hery hery


Unsurprisingly, the fly in the trap began to struggle once the threads of the web were closed around it, and as Brahm watched the dark-haired, boyish man struggling in the grip of his pink appendages, he couldn’t help but let his grin slip into being victorious again, for just a moment. It was nothing to gloat about, surely, but watching one’s plans come to fruition and unfold just as one planned for them to was simply a gratifying experience.

“Sadistic freak? Hol’ awn, now— let’s not get ahead of ourselve—“

The other man met his eyes, and an inexplicable feeling washed over him. It was as if he couldn’t move— it was as if he had no body at all, and he was somewhere above, in a darkness where he could see nothing, feel nothing, hear nothing, think nothing, and sense nothing.

It’s dark.

I can feel something touching me— it’s far too tight…it’s something that’s holding me like it’s trying to keep me down.

I need free, an—


Suddenly, he was thrust back into awareness, his heart jumping in panic as he saw a flash of white before his eyes, his pulse rapid and his breathing heavy. His tendrils instinctively tightened around the other man as he brought his hands to his head and held them on his temples. He was hyperventilating now, his frenzied mind unable to think.

After a moment of panic, a wave of confusion rushed over him. His slowly dropped his hands from his head as he loosened his tendrils’ grip around the other man as he lifted his head to look into the eyes of his captive.

“Tha hell?” he mumbled, struggling to catch his breath as his brows furrowed. “Was that you?”

He brushed a hand through his hair, and he stood from the bed, his countless tendrils still gripping the other man uncomfortably as Brahm brought one of the shorter ones that he’d kept around Aster’s feet to move in front of himself.

“Ah must admit, that was surprising.” He curled and uncurled the end of his appendage, then brought it up to his own neck in the blink of an eye to scratch at a spot beneath his jaw. A grin spread across his face. He could feel his heart beating out of his chest, and he brought his tendril to it, feeling his pulse with a soft chuckle. “Compared to yers,” he said, focusing on the feeling from the tendrils around Aster’s neck, “my heart’s beatin’ pretty slow, though.”

He paused a moment, looking away from Aster for an instant before slowly releasing his grip on him, though he didn’t retract his tendrils. “Ya see,” Brahm began, curling and uncurling his tendrils as was a habit of his (he’d trained his ability through curling and uncurling, and it was second nature to never let them rest), “Ah meant ya no harm. Ah simply answered yer questions, an’ Ah demonstrated my ability. You did the same, and Ah didn’t expect somethin’ like that from you.” He grinned at the other man as he continued to speak casually, as if what had happened had not just happened. “Not that Ah’d say that Ah’m impressed, but Ah’m definitely pleasantly surprised. What was that…fear inducement? Er somethin’ along those lines, at least?” He shot one of his tendrils to wrap around his pinky in an instant, its movements a quick blur that lasted only a blink of the eye. “And, as you can see…” He slowly unwrapped the appendage from around his pinky, lifting it into air and beginning to stretch it towards the ceiling, stopping when he felt it connect. There was still a lot of the limb hanging, and he grabbed it with his hands. “Ah’ve got these little guys.” He let go of his tendril and began to retract that single one into his back again. “That’s my power— pretty simple, huh?”

Casually, he lowered himself onto the bed, chuckling when he accidentally sat on one of his tendrils. His return to his seemingly oblivious nature might have seemed a bit odd, all things that had just unfolded considered. “Ya know, the two of us seem ta have similar motives.” He grinned. “We both seem ta be around the same age, both seem ta have nothin’ ta do…” His eyes met Aster’s again, not a bit of fear or apprehension within them despite what had happened. “An’ we both seem ta want to get stronger.”

He extended his hand, slowly retracting his tendrils. “Whaddoya say you an’ me make somethin’ of ourselves as an alliance, huh?”


code by ditto (head empty go bonk)
 
fillerfillerfillfillerfillerfillerlerfilelifr 2:45 PM fillerfillerfillerfillerfillerfillerfillerfilr
Logan
INTERACTIONS

Claire

MENTIONS

Liam

TAGS

jasmyn jasmyn



He felt like shit.

It wasn’t an unfamiliar feeling, just the way it was. Hell, Logan couldn’t remember a morning afternoon he didn’t wake up feeling this way. He rolled himself over to the edge of his bed and groaned as he sat up and placed his feet on the floor. Okay...maybe he felt slightly worse than usual.

His dad’s recent death had brought his big brother home after years away. The prodigal son. And with that came a whole load of baggage he didn’t want to deal with. In fact, he had spent his formative years and the subsequent years after avoiding it at all cost.

He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and sighed heavily before pulling himself up by the bedpost and steadying himself before making his way out of his room. He glanced down the hall. Liam’s door was open. He wasn’t home. Fuck was that a relief.

He grabbed his pack of smokes on his way onto the front porch. “Morning, Mrs. Brinkley.” He said with a brief wave, ignoring the disgusted look on her face as she hurried down the road. He glanced down, noticing he was wearing only his boxer briefs. Oh well. Nothing the old bat hadn’t seen before. He brought the cigarette to his mouth and flicked the lighter in his hand. He inhaled sharply and his eyes shut. There was nothing like the first drag of a morning afternoon cigarette. Especially when he was as hungover as he was.

With the cigarette dangling loosely between his lips, he stretched and glanced around. He eyed a stack of mail on the small patio table. Liam. His responsible and organized older brother. He didn’t need to go through them. He knew exactly what they were. Bills. Bills. And more fucking bills. It wasn’t like Logan wasn’ trying, okay? He was. When his dad got sick, who stepped up and took over the auto shop? He did. Who made sure his dad ate and bathed? He did. Where the fuck was Liam, huh? Nowhere to be found like usual.

The dick just abandoned them. Went off to some fancy college and left his family in the dust. Just like their mom. He took another drag from his cigarette. And now he was back with a list of demands he knew Logan couldn’t complete.

Did he sleep with Liam’s girlfriend behind his back? He did. It was FIVE FUCKING YEARS ago. Dude needed to move on and get over it. It wasn’t like he wasn’t planning on dumping her the minute he had left for college anyway. You’d think that his brother would have dislodged the massive stick up his ass while he was gone, but nope. It was still perfectly in place.

Logan put out his cigarette and flicked the butt into the yard before entering the house and back to his room. He pulled on a pair of oil-covered jeans and white tank top. Slipping on his shoes, he made his way out to the shop. Townes Auto. In its prime, it was the best place to get your car repaired.

Logan had spent hours watching his dad fix cars when he was younger. It was where he learned everything he needed to know about his current vocation. Then his mom took off, dad never recovered and now he barely made enough to cover the mortgage and by the look at the stack of bills, he wasn’t even sure if he was doing that.

He grabbed a loose cap from a quart of oil. He turned and tossed it up at the wall and watched it bounce off several objects before finally landing into the trash can. With a satisfied smirk, he turned and grabbed a beer from the mini fridge and cracked it open. He earned it and something had to help with this hangover. He took a large swig and looked over the paperwork on his desk and towards the car. Time to work.

His phone buzzed but he ignored it. He needed to finish this guy’s car today. He took another swig of his beer and lifted the hood and began working on the car.

“You know, a little heads up would have been nice.”

Logan shot up and hit his head on the hood of the car. “Shit.” He said as he rubbed his head and looked around the hood to see Claire waltzing in. Guess the secret was out. “Christ, Claire. Speaking of heads up…” He motioned to the hood. “Warn a guy before you bellow up while he’s under the hood of a car.” He said as he grabbed his beer and took a sip. “And no. He hasn’t changed a bit.” He said eyeing her. Clarissa Tayler. Ex-girlfriend. Current booty call. Oh yeah, and she was technically Liam’s girl first before he stole her away.

“Look, I’m sorry, okay?” He set his beer down and grabbed a towel to wipe off the grease as he moved towards her with his patented puppy dog eyes. “I honestly didn’t think he’d still be here and figured it’d just piss you off anyway.” He said with a sigh. “Forgive me?” He said with a small smile, closing the distance between them. “I haven’t showered yet if you want to let me make it up to you.” His smile turned into a smirk. A smirk he knew all too well had an affect on her.



code by ditto (head empty go bonk)
 

OUTFIT: xoxo

MOOD: "fuck. fuck. fuck."
basics

logan.

mentions
Clarissa Taylor
claire ~ 22 ~ pansexual ~ pain inducement

All morning Claire had been practicing the words in her mind. Thinking of how exactly to tell him what she needed to. It wasn't exactly something Claire thought that she would be uttering to anyone in her life but especially not to Logan Townes. Usually, the blonde was a pretty straight-forward girl, she didn't get nervous or have trouble speaking her mind. This was different though and her stomach was practically doing flips as she walked into the garage-like area where Logan was working on a car.

“Christ, Claire. Speaking of heads up…” His voice almost made her forget the real reason she had come here. In comparison to how Liam had called her Clarissa and then proceeded to be a dick, this was just a much less hostile environment. It always had been though. Maybe that's why she found the younger Townes brother's company better. He was just much more care-free and laid-back which, okay, maybe that was a sugarcoated way of describing him.

Once again, she had forgotten her reasoning for being there entirely as she watched him take a few steps in her direction. The distance between them shrunk until there was barely any left. His effect on her could be chalked up to just pure sexual tension but Claire knew that wasn't completely true. Somewhere inside she had realized that and chosen to ignore it years ago. At this moment all she could think of was how easy it would be tojust slip right back into their usual.

“Forgive me? I haven’t showered yet if you want to let me make it up to you.” -- Why did he have to do that?

The line paired with his signature smirk would've normally worked and it still almost did. She could already see one of them making the first move. They could be inside right now doing what they did best. Ignore life's actual problems. In this instance, though, his comment just made the nerves creep back up. Her mind running through the scenarios of how he would react to her revelation.

"Tempting as that is, I came here to actually talk for once," she shook her head, stepping back to reopen the space between them. "I have something that I need to tell you and I'm just going to force myself to get on with it because if I don't then I might actually puke," she explained, her confidence becoming less noticeable as she continued. "I'm, uh, I-" she choked on her stupid sentence. Just say it. "Bloody hell. Logan, I'm pregnant," she finally managed to get the words out.

God. She really was gonna be sick. Claire and Logan might've just been fuck buddies to put it plainly but she had known him for years. They were teenagers when they met and honestly, not much had changed. He wasn't the type to be a fucking dad. Hell, she wasn't mother material herself. They would be shitty parents and she knew it. Neither of them was capable of taking care of another human being.

This was happening though, there really was no other choice. She had to tell him and they had to figure this shit out. Either he was going to be there or she was in this alone. That was just it. So now, here she was, awaiting his reaction. Her ocean-blue eyes searched his for any hint of how he felt. All she wanted was for him to just say something already. Anything was better than this silence, it honestly felt like it was lasting a damn century.

code by valen t.
 
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Lex




MOOD: adventute: start
LOCATION: the woods
OUTFIT: clothes
TAGS: ditto ditto fancries1 fancries1
MENTIONS: Alex, Sam
Lex released the breath he was holding in at Sam's utterance of the word "burger". Sam hesitated and was very obviously having the same struggle he had just moments ago, and while Lex would consider himself a pretty charitable guy, he had no intention to return to the indecisive mess he just was deciding between a burger or nuggets.

He sent the boy an enthusiastic smile and thumbs up once he started ordering, not unlike a mother watching her son miss the goal at a soccer game. He had to support his friend. A pained look would only serve to embarrass Sam, but that was all Lex could force out after listening to him list several more unnecessary food items. Well, he couldn't entirely blame Sam. After all, it was Lex who listed the entire McDonald's menu hopelessly trying to make a quick decision. He opened his mouth to speak, but even the overwhelming urge to amend his friend's scrambled order and save him some anxiety wasn't enough to force any words out of Lex's mouth.

Lex felt the second wave of anxiety rising through his body dissipate as Sam repeated the order, proud of his friend for sticking with it. He regretted bringing up all those food items earlier, because he really wasn't even that hungry after being bombarded with food all day by his mom. He felt even worse that he'd made Sam pay for so much; hopefully his stomach could bear all the extra food for the sake of honoring Sam's wonderful breakthrough in drive-thru ordering. Alex seemed a viable option for handing food too after proving himself to be quite the big eater at Lex's house.

Things would be fine. It was going alright. This definitely wasn't the first time Lex and Sam had been socially awkward messes in each others' presences, and he always trusted Alex not to judge.

However, as all lulls in awkwardness in Lex's life go, the moment was short-lived and Sam moved forward, only to jerk the car to a halt and reverse. Lex let out a sharp, involuntary grunt, instantly feeling bad he'd made his anguish so noticeable to his two friends, one of which was already trying to hard not to screw things up.

Lex easily jumped onto the next topic, suddenly reminded of the thrill through the form of metal detecting to come. "Good ol' Georgie! What a miser," the blonde boy laughed, looking forward to mapping out the area and potential treasure spots, "It's crazy how no one's really into this stuff. It's, like, local history! And good adventuring experience. It's the closest thing I'll get to geocaching..." There was a light in his eyes as he geeked out to Alex in the backseat. "... which we all totally have to do one day. I'm telling you, man, it'll be the next big trend. Count on it."

Lex gratefully accepted the food bags from Sam, making sure to set it safely away from Sam's comic on his lap. He always made sure to take good care of his own, but he wasn't so sure if the same could be said for Sam, who recklessly kept his copies in the glove compartment of his car. It was hard that moment, especially as the ice cream cone began to melt in his hand. He hurriedly finished it before he'd gotten to his burger, already mortified to find sticky liquid coating the side of his index finger.

"So, anyway, I uh, I think it might be a bit more complicated than that," Lex sheepishly replied to Alex's explanation of Master Ultimate's identity, sounding unsure to preserve his feelings, "But you know, I could hook you up with some of my own comics if you wanted. They're in, like, really good condition." Please don't ruin them. They're my pride and joy. Lex didn't really expect the former high school jock to actually read them, but it was worth a try.

Or... was that too presumptuous of Lex? Or maybe offering at all was preying on Alex's courteousness and he'd crossed a line. He bit his lip, wondering whether taking back his offer would sound more rude than it was intended, because really, it wasn't at all within Lex's intentions to embarrass or pressure Alex or anything. Seriously!

After silently begging Alex to eat the nuggets to avoid waste, Lex moved on to the main part of his meal. After unwrapping the Big Mac, he was greatly displeased to find that it had sauce all over it. It was his fault for not being clear with his order, but it still kind of sucked. Lex hated the sauce they put on Big Macs. It had so much mayo. Ew.

Stubbornly mindful of Sam's feelings, Lex braved his way through the burger, taking slow, unenthusiastic bites of the sub-par food item. Between his long periods of chewing, he continued his discussion with Sam, respectfully but firmly getting into it over the political affiliation of a nameless background character and its relation to the villain's (who had yet to be named—mysterious!) weaponized walking cane. And why did he need a walking cane anyway? He seemed like a perfectly fine walker, at least under all those layers of that terrifying, villainous garb. Lex was so absorbed in their discussion that he'd unknowingly ignored Sam's reckless driving, perhaps for the best.

After all, the three of them got to their destination in one piece. Lex had hardly made it through halfway of the burger, so when Sam asked if they were ready, he faltered. Ashamed to have to call it quits on the poor, unappreciated burger, Lex nodded and covertly wrapped and shoved the half-eaten burger deep into the trash bag.

"Sure am!" he chirped, getting out of the car and heading to the trunk to grab the metal detector. He felt powerful being the one to hold it, although it was a bit troublesome to operate the thing given his uncertainty about the fine details of his electric powers. Lex casually switched the sensitivity on the tool all the way to the bottom, hoping in some way this would lower the chances of Lex's passive electric field being picked up... or something.

Damn you, honors physics! If only Lex had paid attention to that unit. All that was left was to turn the darn thing on when they were ready; Lex kept his fingers crossed there wouldn't be some weird interaction with it. To be safe, Lex did his best to put himself in a relaxed mindset to gain better control over his erratic static charges, just in case. He hadn't done anything like this in the past month and was frightened to be exposed by a metal detector—if that's even how physics works.

Guess it was time to wait and see. The whole thing would be worth it anyway; Bachman's treasure would make huge news and maybe, just maybe, Lex and Sam would be able to graduate from total loserdom by flexing their treasure hunting prowess.

Popularity... make that two things Lex doesn't understand.

"Let's go, let's go!" he rushed the two boys, beginning to head straight into the woods, metal detector in hand.

code by low fidelity.
 
fillerfillerfillfillerfillerfillerlerfilelifr 2:45 PM fillerfillerfillerfillerfillerfillerfillerfilr
Valencia
INTERACTIONS

Cam

MENTIONS

N/A

TAGS

Winona Winona


Cemetery?

What the hell was Camlia doing all in a cemetery?

Valencia watched her reactions carefully, and ultimately doing her best to read whatever she could— but she wasn’t an expert at this yet. Was it touch based or was it simply because she wasn’t strong enough? As much as Camila believed Val was asleep, that much was wrong. It’d been hard to sleep these past few months, the brunette had found herself staying up past 3:00 AM, simply staring at her ceiling. It was as if every time she closed her eyes, V was haunted with a thought that wasn’t even her own.

“Who could sleep when you’re out breaking priceless vases?” She questioned with a raise of her eyebrow, turning her head towards the hall where the vase once stood near the main entrance of the house. It might have been easy for anyone else to believe Camila was visiting their mother’s grave site. But since the funeral neither of them have gone back... well, Val hasn’t. Apparently Camila was using it for a pass time of some sort.

“Healthy isn’t staying out until the break of dawn. What I do with my time is none of your business.”

Yes, she stood at home. Which was surprising. Val was a people person, always was. But now? Being around people has been known to overwhelm her... more so than usual.

Besides classes, work, most of Valencia’s time was spent at home. And yes, an heir to a certain De Valdez had a job. Her father had needed to make sure Valencia was ready for financial responsibility before her trust fund would be able to access.

Of course the time she’d spent working in the coffee shop wasn’t enough money to continue living in the luxury that she does now, she had hardly even needed the tiny paycheck she’s given. V had everything she wanted wrapped around her finger. This job was simply for show. And for the million she’d come to collect later in life.

“Let’s make this easy for the both of us, and you come clean about why you where... where you were.”

A heavy silence passed between the two, and V kept eye contact with Cam, just waiting for her to break while she ignored the thoughts— and many feelings she’d absorbed from the man she’d come in contact with this morning.

How Val wasn’t breaking down right now?

She doesn’t know.

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.

The sound of the teapot had nearly stopped her heart, but Val had only blinked in response— she had never shown her feelings— well, fear directly. There was a lot of it growing up with a sick mother, and there was only so much you could say, do, and show in front of your younger sister.

The brunette took her time to place two cups beside the stove, reaching for a lemon wedge and squeezing the juice in both cups of steaming hot tea.

This was a core memory.

Every fight, every break down, every hurtful moment was comforted with the one memory of their mother, and tea? Tea was the only way either of them could cope with their feelings now that she isn’t there.

It isn’t something they speak about.

But Val and Cam haven’t been very talkative enough these few years to speak about much.

She’d taken a seat on the stool, handing a cup to Cam and pushing the container of honey spoons towards her. They were more than just aesthetically pleasing, honey spoons were Valencia’s favorite.

Absolute favorite. It was surprising how something so small could ease just a fragment of what she was feeling.

‘How does she know? What do I say?’

V huffed, clearly frustrated with her younger sister. There was no use continuing to test the waters when Valencia knew this was just a tsunami waiting to blow over.

“I just... know, tell me the truth. Was you visiting... mom?”

It hurt to say that.

It hurt to pretend a corpse in the ground was a means of spending time with someone you love.

It was ridiculous.

code by ditto (head empty go bonk)
 
fillerfillerfillfillerfillerfillerlerfilelifr 2:45 PM fillerfillerfillerfillerfillerfillerfillerfilr
Liam
INTERACTIONS

Clarissa

MENTIONS

Logan

TAGS

jasmyn jasmyn



He watched as, instead of taking Liam up on his incredibly nice offer of purchasing her a coffee, the bitch instead bade him a rather rude farewell and took off.

Well, it wasn't as if Liam had really wanted to spend his money (or, well, not more of it, anyway) than he already had when he'd been dumb enough to date her. But alas, she'd been hot and he'd been an idiot high school boy who really thought she was his whole life. A snort of laughter escaped him as he shook his head.

Dumb bitch.

She was probably leaving to go run off to his brother and complain to him about Liam or snort a line of coke and then bitch to Logan about him. That was a much more likely story. A much more likely occupation of her time, if you will, and Liam let out a small tsk of disapproval as he stepped into the coffee shop and let the door fall shut behind him.

Really, though, how much longer was Liam going to find himself stuck here in his past when all he really wanted to do was get the fuck out and go back to living out his life?

You know, the life that took him far away from the dreary, sleepy town of Wilmont. The life that took place on the other side of the country, where things were sunnier, and the people didn't all look worn out on life by the time they were eighteen. That was the life that Liam so desperately missed, and the life that, to him, seemed so far away.

He ordered a black coffee and waited for it, rather impatiently, until the barista brought it forward. With a smile and a thank you, Liam took the hot beverage and walked back out of the coffee shop.

His steps took him lazily down the sidewalk. He didn't want to go home -- not yet -- because there were just... too many memories wrapped up there. But walking down the street left him with nearly just as many memories. Looking around, nostalgia kicked in and he looked from store to store as memories of his childhood started rushing back to him.

A smile cracked on his face for a moment.

And then it fell away just as quickly.

This town would be better off with the entire thing burned to ashes.


code by ditto (head empty go bonk)
 
fillerfillerfillfillerfillerfillerlerfilelifr 2:45 PM fillerfillerfillerfillerfillerfillerfillerfilr
Logan
INTERACTIONS

Claire

MENTIONS

N/A

TAGS

jasmyn jasmyn



Victory. He watched as she leaned in. She already forgot she was mad AND he was going to get to have sex. It was a win-win. His smirk widened as his finger trailed slowly up her arm. The dance they did before sex was always just the right amount of build up. It wasn’t fair, really. He knew she couldn’t resist him. Maybe if she could. She’d have wised up and realized she could have done better.

His smile faded as she opened her mouth and stepped away. He cleared his throat and stood up straight, pretending that it didn’t bother him. Something to tell him? Well, it was only a matter of time. He knew this moment would come sooner or later. She did, in fact, wise up and realized that she was way out of his league. He had tried to tell her that before, but it never stuck and eventually...he stopped.

He just wished that she had done this months ago. Before he made her his only booty call. Okay, so she didn’t know that he had stopped sleeping around. It didn’t matter. Dating wasn’t for them. They tried dating...and they failed miserably. But what they had now worked. GOD DAMN did it work.

“Bloody hell. Logan, I’m pregnant.”

Whatnow? Logan fell silent. He already wasn’t talking, but, if it was possible, it got more quiet. It was like his ears stopped working and all he could hear were the last two words: I’m pregnant. Like a broken record screeching in his ear. Pregnant. Claire was pregnant. His eyes roamed around the shop as if an answer would appear. He wasn’t even sure what the question was.

Pregnant.

His eyes went wide as he eyed her belly and he went to speak, but he had nothing. No words. It was unusual for him because usually it was his mouth that got him into trouble. Well, his mouth or his dick..either way he had no words, okay? Did she meet someone? Is that why she hadn’t been around as much lately. Maybe she met someone who could give her the life that she deserved. Someone that could function throughout a day without the aid of alcohol or some mind-altering substance.

He felt light-headed. It was probably due to the fact that he hadn’t taken a breath since she’d uttered those words. He inhaled sharply trying to remind himself how breathing worked and rested his hands on the hood of the car. He took a few more breaths before he turned his gaze back to Claire. He opened his mouth and finally found words. “Is it mine?” He muttered without really thinking because the minute the words left his mouth, he knew he was in some deep shit.




code by ditto (head empty go bonk)
 

OUTFIT: xoxo

MOOD: "fuck. fuck. fuck."
basics

logan.

mentions
Clarissa Taylor
claire ~ 22 ~ pansexual ~ pain inducement

The silence lingered for what felt like hours, Claire trying desperately to get a read on Logan as he took in the news. This was what she’d been dreading. His reaction. The way that the vibe between the pair changed and the tension just felt so heavy. She just wanted him to speak up and say anything to fill the quiet but when he finally did open his mouth, it was not what she’d been expecting. “Is it mine?” -- Was he fucking kidding?

Okay, okay. So the question itself was fair. They had never been the type to stick to one person and it wasn’t like they were dating. To call them both promiscuous wasn’t a stretch. Each of them had their fair share of intimate affairs and so maybe she shouldn’t have been offended. Maybe if that hadn’t been all he said, she wouldn’t have been. Her mind wasn't thinking of the logic behind Logan's stupid question, she only saw red.

Twice. In the matter of half an hour, Claire had managed to be hurt by the words of both Townes brothers, and that utterly pissed her off. Her jaw clenched as she stood there, her eyes not leaving him as he leaned on the hood of the car. "Are you actually serious right now?" it was all that she could manage at first, frozen by his words. -- "You're the only damn person I have slept with in months, of course it's yours," she finally spat out, the delivery much harsher than the words themselves.

"But I get it. I'm such a whore that it must not be, right? I just came down here to tell you, of all people, that I am pregnant instead of one of the many other suitors I am screwing because I thought you'd make the best father out of all of them," her British accent only got thicker with her anger. "You know, I would expect something like that from-" she stopped herself but only for a moment. "I didn't realize how much you and your brother think alike," she added, knowing how the comment would hit him.

Of course, she didn't mean it...but she was so enraged. Her emotions were taking over and she knew it but she just couldn't stop it. Claire's words were coming out faster than she could think them up and they sounded like poisonous darts intended to hit their target right in the damn heart. The blonde was fully aware that she wasn't speaking from a place of ration but from wanting to hurt him.

She wanted to make him feel what she felt. To make him feel the way his three stupid words had managed to make her feel. It was like she was suffocating, drowning really, in the thoughts of her having to do this alone. Like a hot blade pierced through her or her blood was boiling just waiting to make her head explode. All she kept thinking was how badly she wanted him to feel that pain and she hadn't even realized what she was doing.
code by valen t.
 
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