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Rabbit Vaughn: 25/25, thank you, tall mysterious girl

"Yeah. Here." He held out his hand, his gargantuan sleeve hopefully hiding the mask she was to pass him from burning eyes. "Thanks."

alois scholz || 25/25 || >_>!!

Alois scoffed, and with embarrassment heating his face as thoroughly as his father’s flames, he crossed his arms over his bare chest. „Why are you even looking?“ He responded, pitched.

„Fine, you’ll haf’ it back later, now get out of here! And as for your ******** promise... Cross my heart and insert-tasteless-holocaust-joke-here because you’re about to suffer ze same fate if you don’t get ze ******** back into ze party!“ Alois parted arms from around his chest just long enough to give the other girl a stern push, hoping to dissuade her from more witty verbal repartees in exchange for survival.

[ thorne (unmasked) | 25/25 ] : sad :c

Thorne exhaled softly, watching Chris's actions, eyes roving the hall to make sure they were not watched before returning to the teacher. He tilted his head, a painful flicker crossing his eyes at the way Chris recoiled. At the break in his voice and the wet shine in his eyes.

His breath broke open in his throat, a soft hiss of sound.

"What did he do to you?" He asked. His voice was a hush of noise. It was violent and protective all at once. Thorne's body shook, not from fear, but from a shudder of hungry longing. To shield Chris from whatever he had endured. But it was too late, too late. And now the teacher was before him.

Corr had told him he had broken, but Thorne had been shattered himself. They were still standing. That had to mean something. They were still standing.

Chris asked him why and Thorne closed his eyes for a long moment, slowing his breath. His heart stuttered inside of his chest. Why, Chris asked him, and Thorne barely knew how to respond. He could lie. He could just not bother to respond. But Chris deserved to know. Thorne could see the fracture lines bruised into his being. Whatever he had done in a reckless gamble for Thorne -

"This is my fault." Thorne's voice didn't break, and it was a small blessing. He tilted his head, looking the teacher over, looking down at the point of contact where Chris now gripped his wrist. He turned and stepped close to Chris. With his free hand, he raised it to hover just beyond Chris's cheek.

Yes or no hung in the air between them. Chris was the one who would choose.

"If I am forced to play their game, I'll play it by my rules, and I won't take his dare," Thorne said softly, "But it was you that he hurt in this game." His voice splintered slightly. His voice fell lower, lower. "All along, it was you."

Thorne stilled when Chris asked him for a minute. He stepped closer, tilted his head. Their warmth burned together between them. Here in this isolated space, Thorne once again felt grounded.

But in this instance, it was Chris that would lead. Thorne's hands shook. Someone with his face had done something to hurt the teacher. Someone with his face had been living in his body for three months, hurting the people he cared about.

He had done this.

His next words burned like a confession or a promise. Something fallen into the in-between.

"You have me. For as long as I can stay."

Alexis Tucker: 0/25, Ow x2

"Sorry," Alexis manages, ash-faced and quite likely biting their own tongue (it barely even sounds like a 'sorry', it's more of a 'thorryth'); they stumble for a second, almost slumping into Ezra's burning form, barely managing to stay upright. Their legs don't quite want to work.

Everything's so cold. Their wrist hurts. It hurts.

They're doing this for Autumn. Why are they doing this? They need to help her. They need to - it's so cold.

shibrvgane

i never saw snowpiercer sry. let's just go with a frostbite scar idk???

Ezra: 25/25, damage time is over now

"Thank you," he says, as if he's not heard anything else.

Then he turns on his heel to rejoin his children. "And you are?" He raises an eyebrow at Temperance. (It's visible because of the glow of his eyes.)

[ thorne (unmasked) | 25/25 ] : bein gay

"Don't," Thorne breathes, closer to Chris now, burning with his warmth, "Don't compare your own trials to mine. It's unfair to you. It's - " He doesn't know what to say. It hurts to say things to Chris in this treacherous place. He misses the apartment. He misses his plants. Midnight calls and snapchats and the jibes over ungraded papers. "I've faced nightmares. But so have you."

He does not press Chris for an answer. He looks at him and searches and searches before settling back. And he exhales softly. And he wants to touch him more than ever, but this is not a dance he leads.

"Teachers aren't supposed to lie," Thorne breathes quietly, his voice teasing and loose. He is unmade in a completely different way now. He wonders if he'll ever put himself back together the right way. Wonders if there even is a right way.

His eyes flicker to the patrons and back. He winds his fingers with Chris's. Whatever he will have to brave tonight, Chris will be safe. He wears a mask. He has to be safe. When Chris tilts his head into Thorne's hand, there is a small bubble of laughter, helpless and fond.

Thorne runs his thumb against Chris's cheek, a gentle and sweeping motion.

At the comment, Thorne only shook his head. His eyes were lidded, burning with a different sort of light now.

"No," he said. "I won't let you bear it alone. I let her - leash me long enough. And I let him hurt all of you long enough."

Thorne smiles at the request, the shock in his eyes making them brighter, wilder somehow.

"A dance," he echos, as though he cannot quite comprehend why anyone would ask him. But he tilts his head and eyes the patrons, and pulls Chris backwards, towards one of the edges of the hall beyond the auditorium seats that cuts open into marble and starlight. Out of sight. If only for a minute.

If only for the span of a single dance.

"Of all the people to ask," he says as he guides Chris back, out of sight, out of sight, "me? Are you sure?"

But there's an agreement there in his voice, while the chaos in the backdrop covers their quiet interlude.

"Come on," Thorne says. "I'll try not to step on your toes."

Hux Keighley (unmasked) - 25/25 - talking with Juniper

Hux hadn't moved during all the commotion. Hadn't even bothered to look up as the Burning Man delivered his punishments unto whatever poor sap he figured deserved it. He just nursed a flute of some sort of alcohol and sipped. There wasn't much else for him to do but wait, after all. Wait for the end.

Until Juniper, of course.

He glanced up just in time to see her head jerk. He might have smiled, had he been in the mood to. Instead, he stood with a grimace as pain lanced through him at the movement.

"Gonna get more wine." He murmured to Adoelle before parting through the crowd with his bulk. When he had reached Juniper, he touched his long fingers to the strap of her dress.

"I didn't realize you were so, mmm, revealed before." He said to her, eyes dancing across her rather impressive bosom before focusing back on her blue irises.

"What did you want? I can't be away from her for too long... and, where's your mask? It's dangerous to not have one."