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 Posted: Mon Jan 28, 2019 7:40 pm
xxxx → ғяιםαч, נυℓч ⑥тн ←
םαч ⑤ σғ ⑦ υитιℓ тιмє sкιρ
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☾☼ ιи-яρ םαчs sιиcє ℓ.σ. σρєиєם: ☼☽
◦ םαч ②⑦① ◦
( ⑧ мσитнs, ②⑧ םαчs )
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Posted: Wed Jan 30, 2019 5:14 am
 ❛There he laid looking at me in a way no one had ever looked at me.
My hands were shaking as I explained my knotted past. I will not always be easy to hold onto, for my heart is scattered with thorns.
Some nights I will be quiet and he won't know how to pull me out of my weeded mind. Some nights I will forget what he sees in my and lose my balance.
Some nights I will trip over my own feet and apologize for the mess I made.
On those nights the one thing that will drag me out of my own labyrinth is that look. No one has ever looked at me quite like that.❜
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I'm feeling indifferent. || I'm speaking to no one. || I'm wearing something casual || I have $200 on me and $800 stashed in the bank. || I have feelings for no one.
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“No one else there to worry about but Alex.”
He had been resting then, eyelids heavy from the slumber that refused him within the past few days, when his phone buzzed on his nightstand at exactly eight thirty five in the evening, lighting up the small interior of his bedroom. By then, he turned to his side, facing his back towards the brightness that burned against his blurred, and exhausted vision while he forced his eyes shut, until it buzzed again. “ ‘Yeah, he could screw this up,’ that’s what they were thinking” the sound was loud, in a room that was quiet enough to hear a pin drop, accompanied by the faint ticking of the clock that nearly drove the young man insane. Pale hands reached upwards to cover his ears in attempt to ease the tension that stretched from the crown of his head, to the nape of his neck. By the time the notification lights grew unbearable, he turned around to turn off his phone. At eight forty two in the evening, the last message struck a chord, pooling his mind with brief flashes of his own past while he sat himself up on the side of his bed. “God knows I’m the only thing my parents didn’t get right.”
“God knows I’m the only thing my parents didn’t get right.”
Slender fingers latched onto the cold surface of his glass, lightly tracing over the clear water droplets that glistened against the solid surface while he sat by an empty seat on the far end of the polished bar counter. He fidgeted in his seat, like an ant on a hot griddle while his mind struggled to come to terms with how he went out of his way to invite Alex out, when they’ve only briefly spoken within the three months they’ve known one another. But Hope would be lying if he said he wasn’t the least bit worried of the reaper’s well-being when he received said texts within days or weeks passed. A quiet sigh escaped his soft, cherry pink lips as he brushed his fingers through his slightly overgrown blonde locks that loosely framed his porcelain features, dusted with fading freckles like the fallen leaves of mid-autumn, like paint splattered onto an empty canvas that was his skin. He was thankful of the dimly lit interior of the establishment, hiding the discolouration of a strangled bruise around his neck, and the slow spreading of purple and red across both his forearms, with a fine hint of green, like ink staining clean piece of cloth. Yet it seemed fascinating at the same time, like the colour of the galaxy.
Ah, it stung.
He brought the glass to his lips, taking in the scent that smelled of zesty orange, and the sweetness of cranberries, along with the fine hint of vodka he knew would leave a mild burn on his throat. He took a small sip, savouring the sweetness that lingered upon the tip of his tongue. He felt a tad overwhelmed in the area, yet despite having never stepped into a local club, he felt an air of familiarity surrounding the place. The familiar scent of perfume women wear, that was sometimes a tad harsh on the nose. Sometimes it was the strong scent of cologne men wore, lingering in the air even when they’ve long since walked away. A blurred image of a person sat next to him, causing the young man to look to his side with a curious gaze. There were fine whispers he couldn’t make out, drowned out by the sound of soft jazz music playing in the background, bathing him in a serene atmosphere. A blurred hand reached towards him, ghosting above his own, leaving fine goosebumps in the wake of his skin, as though his body was reacting to the ghostly touch his overworked mind had conjured.
“..nes.” he heard. “Agnes.” Of course. This memory hadn’t belonged to him. This wasn’t his body to begin with, after all.
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Posted: Thu Jan 31, 2019 2:05 am
 
Alexus was honestly surprised at the invite, he had counted Hope as a- How to put it-- A lost cause? For once, this person seemed like the type who needed...more. Actual affection. The death-bringer would typically avoid such relations, the type that could lead to unreciprocated feelings or attachments on the other's end; alas, the pale skinned blonde did wield the sort of beguiling allure he himself wasn't often willing to escape. Wasn't it worth it? Wouldn't he be a distant memory to her soon? In a week or so he would have been separated from his wife for two months. Maybe that was to be expected, but his constant self-disputes of how much he deserved it no longer hushed his frustration in it all, namely Rylee's refusal to talk to him. He would wonder if were over already, but since she wasn't type to pay it forward by letting him suffer the wait, it was obvious the delay was because she hadn't determined to divorce him yet; so why not take a single text or phone call? He had nothing to work with, no discourse to discuss, no way to know what came next, and maybe she was feeling that way too off on her own.
Why shouldn't he think about moving on? If his marriage was a lost cause...Alexus tapped the edge of his finger nail against the aged plank helping support him, the smoke of his cigarette seeming to dissolve into the wet air even beneath the overhang outwards of the door. The reaper didn't want it to be over, yet he couldn't think of any reason why it should not. Hadn't he said he was unhappy being married? Yes, but not that he no longer wished to be. Not that he wanted to be isolated from her. A short sneer met his lips, shoving against his flaring nostrils until he forced it to ease. That was easy in the wake of his distress, his finger drifting to tap his thigh instead. He was a mess, wasn't he? He couldn't escape with anything but more sex, and even now that was only a noose around his neck...Yes, in spite of the urge, in the moment, the thought seemed exhausted. Those urges had been at fault for this to begin with, his inability to resist them. With a sigh, his head leaned back against the wall, Alexus contemplated going inside yet. This was a disservice, maybe- To them both: To the man whom cared and the one who didn't know why he was here.
Alva's comfort didn't go far, she was broken that way, and so lacked, he supposed, the emotion for the touch she wished to share and the tenderness she wished to speak- Even if he began to wish she could. He moved his arms around his midsection, willing for all his insides not to well over and break; he blew smoke out of the corner of his mouth as he calculated how long he'd been standing there. Five minutes, felt like ten. In his red sweat suit, the only one he owned among his drawers filled with button-ups and his closet filled with suits. There was hardly casual wear to be found, and he be damned if he'd walk around in Versace. He cared too little, and too much- Wouldn't chance getting it wet, and couldn't be bothered to go out of his way to keep it dry if he did wear it anyway. Hair not styled, hanging in that way he sorta hated, the way that made him look like a bum. Defeated didn't wear well on him, not at all. All he wanted was for her to talk to him. Not needing to eat, or sleep, or anything, it left a lot of time to let everything consume him. Even going out like this, getting to be around other people...yet overwhelmingly forsaken.
Alexus growled under his breath, spitting his cigarette into an ash tray positioned over the bin, having ground the cylindrical stick apart between his teeth. There was no way to keep this up, so seeing as he was at a bar, he may as well. Taking to the dim inside, the angel shoved his hands in his pockets and skulked mindlessly towards the bar. This place seemed to draw the creatures of the night with the way the atmosphere promised secrecy and seclusion. Whether that was only a thin veil because of the private rooms, he could only guess, but, it felt safe and comfortable. It took him a few moments but he found the mousy freckled man and slid into the stool beside him, ordering a Hurricane before shifting his chin into his palm, his elbow neatly nestled onto the countertop as he angled his body towards the familiar unknown being. "This isn't your scene, you know." He'd hum amusedly, crossing his legs at the ankle. "Or perhaps this is how you stand out wherever you go." Most predators looked for the small and vulnerable, after all. Alexus paused to stare over his counterpart, his opposite. "How're you holding up, Sunshine?"
Reaper |◈|Agenda: Unorthodox Meetup |◈|With: Hope |
|◈| Wearing: Eh-- It's Passable/Driving |◈|Living @: 1414 Doux |◈|Spending funds: $1146
|◈|Last Purchase: |◈| Humanity: XXXXXX
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Posted: Sat Feb 02, 2019 8:47 am
❛There he laid looking at me in a way no one had ever looked at me.
My hands were shaking as I explained my knotted past. I will not always be easy to hold onto, for my heart is scattered with thorns.
Some nights I will be quiet and he won't know how to pull me out of my weeded mind. Some nights I will forget what he sees in my and lose my balance.
Some nights I will trip over my own feet and apologize for the mess I made.
On those nights the one thing that will drag me out of my own labyrinth is that look. No one has ever looked at me quite like that.❜
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I'm feeling indifferent. || I'm speaking to Alexus. || I'm wearing something casual || I have $200 on me and $800 stashed in the bank. || I have feelings for no one.
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He picked up the sound of faint whispers, of passing crowds speaking of lost love while they drank their sorrows away. Some were parting ways with old colleagues, others celebrating their new job offers and promotions. Baby blues glanced sideways, noticing the way their cheeks glistened with shed tears beneath the soft lights, like the shimmering reflection of sunlight on the gentle ocean waves. Some had their cheeks flushed a delicate pink, the colour of red roses blooming upon an empty field that was their skin. His eyes shifted in the opposite direction, this time locking onto the woman sitting on the opposite end of the bar, refusing the persistent advances of a man that reeked of alcohol, with hard liqour apparent in the breath he heaved. Absolut vodka, mixed with a fine hint of mint leaves and orange zest, and a breath that reeked of poor oral hygeine. Unknowingly, Hope’s movement matched the woman’s, both pressing their index finger against the bottom of their noses to block the off-putting scent. Poor thing, he thought, until his crystal clear gaze witnessed the imprint of her hand spreading across his cheek, like the sudden bloom of poppy flowers, like a drop of red ink into clear waters. The sound was crisp, falling deaf to the ears surrounding them, yet amplified against his own.
And then the man left, with his tail between his legs. For a split second, he looked almost.. pathetic. But who was he to judge?
Pale fingers clenched against his highball glass when her head turned to meet his. They held a sharp glint, dangerous, like the light that gleamed off the sharp edges of a blade. Laced with lingering traces of frustration from moments earlier, her features were hardened, her jaw clenched with apparent tension. He offered all but the briefest of smile, tearing his gaze away while he watched the whitening flesh of his fingertips at the tight grip around his drink. The interior was dark, like a small area secluded from the rest of the world the moment he stepped into said establishment. Not a single trace of light could seep through from the outside, with the only apparent light source being the ones that belonged to the building. He took another sip, this time feeling the numbing soreness that spread through his forearms at his sudden movement. In a way, he felt uncomfortable without hearing the sound of seconds ticking, without the sound of raindrops that grew either heavier, or lighter as time passed, without the comforting lemon scented air freshener wafting in the safety of his own home.
But in this unfamiliar area, there was one thing that soon approached him with an air of familiarity. Dulled sapphire blues glanced to his left, invited by the sight of pale skin dressed in red that matched the striking hues of his piercing gaze, and a black undershirt that was a similar shade to his raven locks. He smelled of rain and cigarettes, a masculine musk he found oddly soothing in a place that smelled only of alcohol and scented perfumes. "This isn't your scene, you know." his tone was laced with amusement, and Hope nervously chuckled at the statement. ”I thought I could avoid sticking out like a sore thumb if I stuck to a corner- but--” a quiet sigh escaped his lips, ”Is it that obvious that I don’t belong?” For a person that had only lurked in places such as the local bookstores or the library, or even the cafe in the shopping district, he found himself unsure of how to behave in a different place, faced with a crowd that seemed to grown accustomed to the act of approaching, and being approached.
Curious gaze landed upon his unruly raven locks that were let down and draped loosely above his brow bone, unlike the usual days he had them styled neatly upwards. Seconds passed in silence, with eyes of blue locking onto a scarlet pair that flickered beneath the dim lights, but as always, his gaze drew away before the fifth second, eyes downcast onto the smooth, polished countertop. Though he has grown more vocal in the reaper’s company, baby blues still failed to look at his whenever he spoke, choosing instead to fall upon either his cheekbones, the loose strands of raven locks, the wall at the far end of the establishment, the bar stool he was sitting on, or even the vein he noticed upon the nape of the reaper’s neck. It was always everywhere else, but the eyes. The question was initially met with silence as the half android pondered, wondering if hard earned slumber meant that he was fine, despite the increase of his medication. Dark crescents were no longer as heavy in comparison to a month prior, when his exhausted mind was plagued with nightmares and memories, when sleep refused to take him despite his eyelids that struggled to keep themselves open. ”It could have been better- but I’m not complaining-” slender fingers withdrew from his glass, unconsciously running over the streaks of discolouration, like the stripes belonging to a zebra, upon the delicate skin of his neck.
”But- um, how are you doing?” his gaze flicked upwards, meeting his for a brief moment, before once again, dropping to the collar of his red sweat suit. ”Are you okay?”
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Out.Of.Crocodiles:
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Posted: Tue Feb 05, 2019 11:31 pm
Was standing out such a bad thing? Outside of having a negative reputation and special circumstance, Alexus had been taught that predominance was a good thing, desirable, even. He raised one brow as Hope tentatively began to explain his reasoning, as though he anticipated where the conversation was headed. Hiding in a corner certainly did not help. Luckily, no one seemed to be on the prowl for his type at the moment, which was almost odd, asking him. The clank of his chilled glass was solid on the bar top, the minor most shiver under his resting elbow drawing his attention a degree to his left. He plucked up the glass, sitting up to sip from the straw and scan the area. He supposed it was only good he hadn't arrived to see the poor blonde being hounded by some unlikely stranger. "In a place like this, you, sir, are a daisy growing in a pile of manure; but maybe it can use some pulchritude." No offense to the non-scum here, the ones that were trying to make an honest living or disappear behind the sultry atmosphere.
Alexus knew what to expect from the blonde behaviorally, though he found it slightly uncomfortable himself to be looking elsewhere while chatting. That was what he did regardless, to help his companion feel less stared down. He focused on people watching between short convergences of their gaze, all those whom lived like they were dying tomorrow, unknowing of what their lifespan determined for them truly. The obituaries were the most read section in the newspaper, or perhaps it only used to be before this age. And this one, whom tottered somewhere between life and death, Alexus took his word but he wondered if he could trust the truth of a meek soul to be accurate. "Perhaps you should." The reaper wasn't appreciative of optimism, even before losing his mortality. Those whom constantly looked to the 'bright side' weren't short of living in denial, let them say it didn't mean they couldn't see the bleary for what it was- but did they ever. Perhaps Hope was being a realist in his own way, just a humble one.
And what of him? He wasn't doing so great, he wasn't too prideful to admit that. Less so, he didn't want to go on and on about it, particularly not to the same people over and over. The writer pondered how to sum up the days, dragging his elbow off the counter to scoop his hair aside and push his straw to and fro with his fingers. This wasn't living, he'd think, and he was technically dead. "I'm getting by, I wont lie and say I'm having an easy time of it." There was more frustration today than there was sorrow, and it would be like that for the next few days if not weeks- however the stages of loss went, or what have you. Alexus moved on to studying Hope, following a feeling that neither felt like going into their individual situations. Still, talking had its medicinal effects and he was curious about the blue hued soul. "You seem like you've slept some, at least. It's better than last time. Finally found someone to help you with the whole orgasm thing?" The latter of the remark passed in a sly snicker, though only to tease. Some how he doubted it, he felt, if anyone fell in infatuation with Hope they'd be at his side as much as possible. He was that way at Rylee, in their early marriage.
Reaper |◈|Agenda: Unorthodox Meetup |◈|With: Hope |
|◈| Wearing: Eh-- It's Passable/Driving |◈|Living @: 1414 Doux |◈|Spending funds: $1146
|◈|Last Purchase: |◈| Humanity: XXXXXX
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Posted: Sat Feb 09, 2019 10:47 am
❛There he laid looking at me in a way no one had ever looked at me.
My hands were shaking as I explained my knotted past. I will not always be easy to hold onto, for my heart is scattered with thorns.
Some nights I will be quiet and he won't know how to pull me out of my weeded mind. Some nights I will forget what he sees in my and lose my balance.
Some nights I will trip over my own feet and apologize for the mess I made.
On those nights the one thing that will drag me out of my own labyrinth is that look. No one has ever looked at me quite like that.❜
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I'm feeling flustered. || I'm speaking to Alexus. || I'm wearing something casual || I have $200 on me and $800 stashed in the bank. || I have feelings for no one.
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Hope would think of himself as anything else but. He was but a wallflower, usually the presence that goes unnoticed in a crowd, the one that no one quite paid attention to, or perhaps the black sheep as he was told in the past. Though days like those were long passed, and he had come to terms with what happened, there were nights he found words like those repeating itself in his mind, acting as a constant reminder of what he was. Nights like those he felt fear that belonged not to himself, but instead to the man who’s lingering fear remained within the body that once belonged to him. A pale figure approached him, foggy yet just enough to ressemble one of whom he recognized. Blonde unruly locks that were combed upwards, dressed in black denim jacket, and a black sleeveless undershirt, with a red flannel shirt tied around his waist. Baby blues cast to his right, looking on at whom he knew was the cause of his sudden outbursts of crippling anxiety. Baby blues stared, falling silent for a short moment before he finally drew his gaze away.
It had been staring.
”I’d like to think I’m more of a wallflower--” he paused, easing a quiet chuckle through his lips while he redirected his gaze, this time actually falling close enough to hues of crimson: the point between his brows. ”I thought you’d be more comfortable in a place like this- is all.” unlike the bar downtown, this place had a much dimmer lighting, quiet, with soothing jazz music playing in the background, loud enough to be heard, but soft enough to roll the tension off stiffened shoulders. It was secluded, like a bubble that existed outside of the reality many were trying to escape, each to their own privacy. But perhaps he was right. Hope didn’t belong, being a person who would seem more likely to blend in at the cafe Uptown, with a cup of hot coffee in one hand, and a thick novel in the other. Hope was grateful that his companion chose to compromise with his less than appealing qualities, feeling the tension that had partly left his tensed limbs that was once bathed under pools of red that flickered behind curtains of dark raven locks. Like blood moons upon the empty canvas of the navy blue nightsky, like ruby gems glistening within the dark underwater caves. It was strikingly magnificent, as it was eerie, leaving the young man both intrigued and intimidated at the same time. But it was a beautiful shade none the less, like the colour of red poppy flowers, like the colour of blood from a fresh wound.
Index finger grazed across the wet surface of his glass, gathering the trickling droplets of cold water upon his fingertips while the image of red hues burned into the depths of his mind, as did many other little things Hope found fascinating: like the way the pupils dilate when they fall upon a subject of interest, or how the sequins on the costume of a burlesque dancer glistens beneath the spot light, like the shimmering sunlight reflected off the surface of the vast ocean, like the stars that were watchful gazes twinkling upon the dark night sky. ”Should I?” he asked, watching the thin layer of melted ice floating atop liquid of orange and yellow hues. The glass was brought to his lips, pressed faintly against skin of soft cherry pink, only taking in the scent of acidity that belonged to oranges, and grapefruits, laced with the sweetness of cranberries and peaches that followed after a sip, or two. ”It.. doesn’t seem to change much of anything.” it had become a habit not to, knowing it brought inconvenience to his previous family when he did, knowing the ends of the leather belt, or sometimes even the burning cigarette would meet his already malnourished body if so much as a single word escaped his lips. Eventually Hope stopped speaking altogether, knowing it did little to no good in a world where people couldn’t care less about another’s well-being, other than their own.
Sapphire hues followed the swift movement of his hand that casually brushed through tousled locks of raven, revealing the pair of striking hues now laced mildly of frustration, perhaps a hint of restlessness? Though the half cyborg could be fairly wrong. But the conversation didn’t last long, with himself unwilling to elaborate on a matter that only seemed confusing to another, and the reaper who had replied to his concern with all but a brief answer. But nonetheless, worried gaze of darkened hues eased, softening into a shade of steel blue, yet lacking the brightness of the brighter hues it once possessed. While he hadn’t pushed the reaper for an answer last he received the surprising text, the young blonde somehow understood briefly of what Alex spoke of, feeling the heartache over the frustration and sorrow carried within the heavy words that hammered like steel nails against his chest. But what could he have said then? “It’ll be okay.” like a pathetic know-it-all that didn’t know what they were doing? Or “Everything’s fine.” despite knowing the way things were crumbling in bits and pieces for the other party?
“Are you okay?” was all he managed to say after the barrage of notifications he received, even though the answer had been obvious, then. “Do you want to talk?” he asked again, when worry began to grow apparent in his restless mind.
”Oh, yes- the hospital offered me stronger prescr--”
“Finally found someone to help you with the whole orgasm thing?"
His lips were left parted, first in shock, then in silence before the gears of his mind started grinding once more. This time, leaving his cheeks flushing in every possible hues of red, like the full bloom of a field of red roses, like the vibrant colours of mid-autumn upon his vast snowflakes of faded freckles. Widened hues fell upon the upward curve on the corner of his lips, followed by the quiet sound of cheeky snickering that did not go unnoticed by his sharp hearing. ”H--Hush-!” the young man huffed and puffed, lowering his hands to shield his crotch when his legs tensed up and closed the remaining gap in between. His voice all but escaped his lips in bouts of nervous stutters, accompanied by occasional awkward laughters. His head turned away, hiding behind locks of platinum blonde that were long enough to cover the sides of his cheek, yet despite so, it did not conceal the redness that had begun to spread to the tips of his ears. His gaze was downcast, hidden behind a thin layer of light coloured lashes, opting instead to stare at his own reddened fingertips from the cold air of their surroundings that now relaxed, and settled against the countertop. ”I-- I can.. do it on my own--” his voice softened towards the end, stubbornly protesting despite knowing his prudish answer would only do more harm, than good.
Dry laughter escaped his lips, only lasting for a brief moment before his less than amused gaze met crimson ones, accompanied by a small pout, and a half-hearted glare that held little to no intimidation. Like those that belonged to a child’s. Regardless, Hope did not take anything to heart, laughing it off as he did most of the things in life. ”Y-You know- I don't think you're a bad person-” he spoke up, shattering the short, and -surprisingly- comfortable silence that shrouded over them like a cloud. He could be wrong, but in that passing moment, it was what he chose to believe. While he knew his worries may not be needed, the young man felt the need to express his thoughts, or at least offer a single getaway should his burdens grow too heavy to carry upon his shoulders. While he never had people to talk to, Hope figured just maybe he could be the listening ear he, himself never had. More or less towards a person he had begun to consider: a friend.
”I’ll always listen if your burdens grow too heavy to bear alone--”
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Out.Of.Crocodiles:
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Posted: Mon Feb 11, 2019 5:12 pm
xxxx → тυєsםαч, נυℓч ②④тн ←
םαч ② σғ ⑦ υитιℓ тιмє sкιρ
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
☾☼ ιи-яρ םαчs sιиcє ℓ.σ. σρєиєם: ☼☽
◦ םαч ②⑧⑨ ◦
( ⑨ мσитнs, ⑯ םαчs )
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Posted: Mon Apr 01, 2019 2:30 pm
Butterscotch Faerie Tales  "Don't carry on, just walk away
How many more sent to their graves?
In this lesson ignored
I fought your fight
Bought your lie
And in return I lost my life
What purpose does this serve?
What purpose did I serve?"Æþelsige ♆ "Swampy" ♆ Rheinmann It was early afternoon already before he finally awoke. He never usually slept in that late, but then again a lot of things had been changing of late. And all of those changes had been bad, well, bad by most people's standards, but he couldn't help but be excited about it: he finally felt like he was dying. He had been trying for so long, and now it seemed the alcoholism, late nights, poor diet, and inordinate salt intake were finally paying off. It made up for the stressful time he had been having. With the flooding, he had had to spend most of his time at the house, the house that he could hardly bear to see much less stay in, to try to keep the damage to a minimum. Surprisingly, it hadn't really been damaged, and a little mopping and tidying later, it was as good as it had been back in the day. With the flood waters receding, people were heading back out in droves, and it would have been foolish of him to avoid such a crowd. He had gone to the park every day to perform, and with so many people around, the crowd often didn't wind down until late at night, by which time he was too tired to do anything besides go back to the beach and sleep. At least it meant he had earned a lot of money, which he was now going to spend on getting completely plastered. Dressing in some random jeans from who-knows-when and a t-shirt he didn't even recognize, he bee-lined for the bar and took his usual place. Bartender didn't even bother with asking what he wanted, just grabbed a bottle of vodka and slid it down his way. "Thanks. If I ever get rich, I'm paying you to be my full time bartender." The man merely shrugged, "you stop dripping all over the place, I might give you a few rounds on the house." "Want me to bring a bucket next time?" The bartender just shook his head and went back to washing the same damn glass. He knew better than to talk to the pretty boy when conversation wasn't invited. The man might look sweet, but his normal personality was anything but.
"Hold my breath as I wish for death
Oh please God, wake me
Now the world is gone, I'm just one
Oh, God help me
Darkness imprisoning me
All that I see
Absolute horror
I cannot live
I cannot die
Trapped in myself
Body my holding cell"
Funds: $435.83
Relationship: Widower
Mood: Enthusiastic
Ooc: I swear, my opening posts are my worst posts.
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Butterscotch Faerie Tales
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Posted: Wed Apr 03, 2019 1:51 pm
Peers Karstensen Funds :: $1000
Company :: N/a
Glamours :: N/a
Outfit :: N/a
⋐ ↝ ↝ ↝ ↝ ↝ ◉ ↜ ↜ ↜ ↜ ↜ ⋑
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Posted: Sun Apr 07, 2019 10:41 pm
Butterscotch Faerie Tales
How many more sent to their graves?
In this lesson ignored
I fought your fight
Bought your lie
And in return I lost my life
What purpose does this serve?
What purpose did I serve?"Æþelsige ♆ "Swampy" ♆ Rheinmann He watched as someone else entered the bar. Welp, judging from the fact that it was kind of early and the man thought it was a good idea to hit up a bar, he would either be pleasant company, or fiendishly annoying. He tore his gaze from the man for a moment to tip the bottle up, draining about a fourth of the contents before setting it back down and wiping at his mouth with what must have been his best dress shirt. Damn the alcohol feels so good... he couldn't help but smile as the alcohol burned at his belly, probably removing a few layers of insulation. He noticed the slip, but would hold his tongue for the moment, at least let the newcomer settle in before making himself a nuisance. Taking another swig, he couldn't help but get a little more curious when the man ordered what he was having, and...what was that movement? Did the man have a tail? There were a lot of strange beings in this place, but most of the ones back home that had tails made sure to hide them. He raised his bottle as well when the man said cheers, and he managed to down about half of what was left before setting the bottle back down. "Sorry about the slick spots, that would be my fault." He shook out his wet lank hair, and a few more drops crashed to the ground. The rest of him was not wet, but his hair seemed to be drenched. "I am actually apologizing because you seem to be a man of taste. Maybe not good taste, but at least similar taste." He tipped the bottle back and downed the rest of it. The bartender opened up another bottle and slid it his way, throwing the other one away. These weren't the pamby little 20 oz. bottles either, this was the full bottles you were supposed to pour into a glass and mix with something else. Swampy just drank them straight because after several decades of heavy drinking, it took a lot for him to feel anything. "Name is ******** impossible to pronounce, so just call me Swampy. If ya want. Or something else. I don't much care. You're...not from around here, are ya?" Swampy had lived in this city since the early fifties, so he knew by sight a fair number of the residents. This guy was not ringing a bell."Hold my breath as I wish for death
Oh please God, wake me
Now the world is gone, I'm just one
Oh, God help me
Darkness imprisoning me
All that I see
Absolute horror
I cannot live
I cannot die
Trapped in myself
Body my holding cell" Relationship: WidowerMood: Bemused
Ooc: Sorry that took forever.
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Posted: Mon Apr 08, 2019 1:34 pm
xxxx → sυиםαч, נυℓч ②⑨тн ←
םαч ⑦ σғ ⑦ υитιℓ тιмє sкιρ
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
☾☼ ιи-яρ םαчs sιиcє ℓ.σ. σρєиєם: ☼☽
◦ םαч ②⑨④ ◦
( ⑨ мσитнs, ②① םαчs )
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Posted: Tue Jun 04, 2019 9:39 pm
 ▁▂▃▅▆███▆▅▃▂▁◥🅻🆄🅲🅸🅴🅽◣┏━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┓
Lucien walked through the doors and the smooth music hit him, he looked around the dimly mood lit place and a.smile spread across his face. It was perfect. when Miyo had suggested they go to a place called the 'captains deck' he hadnt been expecting much, especially with her previous 'drink like a sailor' comment. But he was pleasantly surprised and more.than pleased that she actually had great taste.
He walked to the bar, the place hadnt been open for long and there weren't a bunch of people milling about, it was a Saturday so he figured it was going to get crazy. A quick surveillance told him that she wasnt here yet. pulling put his phone he clicked on his messenger. going to their conversation which only really consisted of an agreement of place and time he began to type-
I'm here, are you coming?🍆🍆🍆💦💦
snickering to himself he set his phone down and took of his jacket, half hazzardly pushing up his sleeves as he leaned back on the bar and waited.
┗━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┛
【Profile】【Outfit】【OOC::】
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