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[FIN] Slow Motion Train Wreck — Dawson/Maebe Goto Page: 1 2 3 4 [>] [»|]

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medigel

Anxious Spirit

PostPosted: Fri Feb 06, 2015 12:06 am


This was going to be Horrible.

Maebe said sexy and Horace said clean and honestly he wasn't sure he could manage to strike a balance between either. Most of his things looked faded or wrinkled if they didn't have a stain. He'd lied when he told his friend he was going to drink some beer before bed: he'd shut his phone off, considered the messy pile of clothes he had dug out from a different messy pile throughout their Twitter DMs, and finally elected some candidates to rewash with a deep, long-suffering sigh. Like he could honestly sleep well after all those tweet bombs anyway.

Naturally, he ******** up and shrunk some of his shirts in the process. Again: Horrible.

Dawson tried to hype himself up the next day. Think thin thoughts. Think happy thoughts. Think non-Loser thoughts. Thinking about it too much made it worse, so then he tried not thinking at all...which inevitably led to thinking about it. Maybe this wasn't a good idea. Sure it was just a tour, but what if it wasn't? He definitely wasn't ready for anything like that. On the other hand, he considered Chel's words again: you're perfect. And that hadn't been enough. Why the hell would it be? So why worry about a stranger? They weren't in the same league, they weren't even playing the same damn game. No worries. One casual outing. Sure. Okay.

Listen up, Dawson Kimberly Grace, you fatass piece a's**t, barked the memory of Uncle Bobby Rae, you get out there n' you have a good time chasin' a pretty girl around 'n yer gonna ********> like it, mister. 'Cause if you fall down n' boohoo inta yer beer again like a psusy yer gonna make the baby Jesus ********' weep, son.

Yessir.


Downing a can of Red Bull probably wasn't the best choice, but his goal was decent and not best and the jittery surge of energy melding his with already potent case of butterflies would do. After his shift was up, Dawson took a second shower, piled up the deodorant, and attempted to brush his hair; the cowlick stayed up because of course it did. Okay...red plaid shirt, knee-tattered jeans, boots (he thankfully found the other one), oversized leather jacket, a camo hat that had SALT LIFE on it, aaaand the Scooby Doo lunchbox. His beard was starting to come in around his chin, which he probably should have taken care of earlier...eh, ******** it, knowing his luck at this point he'd probably cut himself.

Alright. Not sexy, but at least not dirty either. B-

It only occurred to Dawson exactly a split second before knocking on her door, however, that he had never asked Maebe what sort of snack she wanted, which was Very Important, and shitshitshit--

xxNio Love
SO IT BEGINS
PostPosted: Fri Feb 06, 2015 10:09 am


Despite how strict Maebe was in her orders for Dawson to arrive on time and dressed sexy, she for her effort hadn't really put much time into it. She'd only combed her hair to almost shining perfection, and she'd worn the pink pleated skirt that reached only to her mid-thigh, and not higher. Her cleavage wasn't falling out of some children sized top, but her makeup was on point in every facet, lending to a flawless execution that was only marred by the fact that she'd been crying on and off for days. No makeup could hide that.

She remembered, only belatedly, that she'd invited Dawson over for something. What was she asking him over for? She wasn't actually going to show him around anything. She hardly knew half the facility, for sheer lack of giving a s**t. She'd meant it as a booty call, but she had no idea who she was talking to. It didn't matter. Not much mattered to her, anymore.

The sweet, good hearted man standing in her doorway was faced with a strikingly beautiful, completely empty doll. It walked, it talked, but it did not have a soul, and there was nothing to reach out to within. She gave him her best smile, but her eyes might as well have been made of glass and painted on with skilled perfection. There was nothing there.

"Mr. Grace." She emphasized the sound of his last name with thick, elongated purpose. "We finally meet."

She hadn't taken the time to even look at his icon, let alone care what he looked like, when she'd invited him over. It wasn't like it mattered, and it never did. If Dawson could have taken a look into her past, and the men she'd slept with just to keep herself from being homeless, he would have realized that he looked like a superstar compared to them. She felt waves of an aura of good and sweet and love coming off of him in waves, and she imagined herself a black hole, devouring them all into oblivion.

She held her hand out, stared at him seductively through her lashes, and urged him inside with a crook of her finger.

medigel

Nio Love

Enthusiastic Lunatic

17,350 Points
  • Object of Affection 150
  • Campaign Manager 500
  • Ultimate Player 200

medigel

Anxious Spirit

PostPosted: Fri Feb 06, 2015 10:35 am


Dawson was wrong. He didn't make a whale noise once the door opened, hell he didn't make a noise at all when he first saw Maebe. It was a lot like when he had first met America and Abbi: struck dumb and turning the idiot knob up to eleven. Was there something in the water here or did hunter genes just naturally make gorgeous people?

"Uh." He felt like he was in the wrong movie genre, like some rugged blond hero was going to call him out and say rom com's friend was over in Studio 8B man. "Hey," Dawson managed with a nervous smile, feeling his palms break out into a sweat for the umpteenth time that day. "Damn, f-feelin' underdressed now, hah..."

Phrasing. He clutched his lunchbox like it was a lifeline.

"Uh, it...I, uh..." He averted his eyes from her lidded gaze (in spite of holding nothing there, in spite of feeling the distinct manner of off that made him concerned) and took one slow step after the other past the threshold into her room, already feeling a blush coming on. "Hah. Sorry. Forget how t'talk around a pretty girl."

xxNio Love
PostPosted: Fri Feb 06, 2015 1:17 pm


She looked down at her body, and wondered what about the pathetic clothing choices she'd thought she'd made that day would make him feel underdressed. Of course, when she looked back up and actually took him in for a moment, she realized that Dawson was one of those very familiar types of men who actually wasn't trying to look sharp every moment. He wasn't even trying to look casual. He wasn't trying. He was just him. No well placed vests adjusted just so, no expensive sneakers with colored laces, no quirky shirts just slightly too long to fit his body-

Stop it, She told herself. Don't do this. It's not fair.

He had the perfect antidote to steal her attention away from her melancholy thoughts, and he clutched it to himself desperately. She watched him walk inside, but her eyes were on the lunch box, transfixed.

"Is that actually a lunch box?" She breathed out in disbelief. "People still have those?" She wanted to steal it from him. So bad. She hadn't wanted to steal this badly since Shiloh's ducky boots had made its first appearance. "Is your actual lunch in there?" She imagined tiny sandwiches or lunchables and fruit. She imagined him sitting at a long wooden table, eating it quietly in the midst of thousands of tiny teenagers who shunned him for his social status. (Of course, in this imaginative scenario, Dawson was fully grown, so it was all rather funny to her.)

She closed the door, and immediately moved to direct him down onto the only chair in the room, urging him to sit in it. There, she lounged behind him, where he couldn't quite see her, but he could feel her presence. She slowly leaned down, arms and head using him for support. "There. Now you can talk all you want, without having to look at me. At least, until you get used to me. I don't want to play hide and seek forever."

Every word was slippery, sliding off of her tongue with easily read intent. "So what's in the box? Careful; If you say Lunchables, I might just fall in love."

medigel

Nio Love

Enthusiastic Lunatic

17,350 Points
  • Object of Affection 150
  • Campaign Manager 500
  • Ultimate Player 200

medigel

Anxious Spirit

PostPosted: Fri Feb 06, 2015 1:40 pm


Maebe was the broken doll but Dawson was the one so easily manipulated. He sat up straight in the chair like a good boy, still clutching at the handle of the lunchbox in his lap, baffled as to how he was still a solid mass and not a puddle of bacon grease on the floor yet. It vaguely occurred to him as Maebe all but purred into his ear and draped herself over him that this wasn't how tours normally started.

(He probably should have realized that when she told him to be there in the evening.)

"Naw, I'll prolly never get used to it," Dawson mumbled sheepishly, smiling because he didn't know what else was appropriate. "Don't mind me bein' a fussy baby. Sawry t'say I only packed fruit roll ups n' some, uh, a roll a'Ritz...uh, a Hershey bar...s**t, fergot the water bottle..." He fought the urge to tap his fingers against the silhouettes of The Mystery Gang.

"S-So, uh," he cleared his throat, wiggled his toes, "how you been since yesterday? Good day so far?"

Nio Love
PostPosted: Fri Feb 06, 2015 2:06 pm


Dawson's reactions were nothing new to Maebe. She mentally began to flicker through her files of seduction, to find all the listings for sheepish good boy who had no idea how to handle a woman. Be gentle. Guide him. Show him -

She rolled her eyes and held back the groan from sudden exasperation over how tired plotting made her. She just wasn't made for this s**t, anymore.

"I've got some water if you get thirsty." And just like that, she'd turned it back on like a light switch. "But we'll save that for later." Her hands disappeared from around his shoulders, and a moment later he felt them sliding up into his hair. "How long did it take you to grow all this out? You could do a lot with this much hair. I could do a lot with this much hair." Another momentary distraction. "But you don't have the right face for a braid. You look hotter shaggy. Maybe.." Her hand snaked out and caught his chin, pulling it to the side so she could get a look at the front of his face. Her expression was calculating, and thoughtful. "No, that wouldn't work either. This is the right haircut for you. I guess I'll just have to settle with playing with it.."

Her hand let his chin go, and returned to his hair. Her fingers slid up and down his scalp, brushing the skin with light touches, all the way down to his neck before venturing up again. She noted with vague interest that he had a thick neck. No one was going to be choking him, any time soon.

"Does this feel good?" She asked, brushing her fingers up his scalp. "Do you like when people touch you like this?"

medigel

Nio Love

Enthusiastic Lunatic

17,350 Points
  • Object of Affection 150
  • Campaign Manager 500
  • Ultimate Player 200

medigel

Anxious Spirit

PostPosted: Fri Feb 06, 2015 2:40 pm


He blathered on and off, giddy and nervous and contained all at once. "Oh, uh, i-iunno, couple've months...? Hair grow pretty fast, hah...Prolly like related more ta apes or somethin'..." Self-consciousness won out over what little pleasure he took. Did his hair smell okay? Was it oily again? Maybe he should have lost the hat. No, nope, crazy talk, he never went without a hat.

But even someone as dense as Dawson noticed he was starting to get pulled under, and it took looking Maebe in the face again for those few precious seconds to snap him out of his little reverie. Close up, it was impossible to deny that what he managed to see there made something twist in his chest. The doc called might call her a horrible mistake, but he wasn't willing to believe that. People were people: he wasn't as smart as some, but he knew there was something else going on here. And he remembered Chel, how it hadn't bothered her to put her body in the hands of any someone who knew what to do with it and said yes.

Abruptly he stood up from the chair, hands shaking slightly from residual nerves. "Sawry, sawry, I-I—" He turned to her with sincere apology written everywhere on his face. "—Look, I ain'...Hah, god damn yer good," he continued with a weak smile as he ran a hand down through his hair. "Did feel real nice now, don' get me wrong. Like a fine tooth comb. But, uh..." He was struggling with the words, and it didn't help that his lunchbox was making the slightest rattling noise against his thigh. "God...I-I didn' mean t'give ya the wrong m'pression there, Maebe, but m'not that kinda guy. M'real sorry if I made ya think so."

Nio Love
PostPosted: Fri Feb 06, 2015 2:59 pm


When he disappeared from under her hands, they remained in that exact position, still crooked with running through phantom hair that no longer existed under it. She turned them up to look at the palms of her hands, and regarded them for a moment.

Thaw briefly murmured something about having lost her touch, and she gasped in surprise of the first sarcastic insult her weapon had ever managed to make, ever. She was such a bad influence on him. It made her proud.

Then she straightened up, and looked at the frightened fleeing deer in front of her, ready to bolt. She stayed exactly where she was, settled her hands carefully on her hips, and gave him a soft, pursed smirk. "You didn't make me think so. I know you're not that kind of guy. I promise, I know exactly the kind of guy you are. And I know this isn't right, and it isn't what you grew up learning was a proper way to handle things."

Very small, tentative steps led her towards him, careful not to spook. "So you don't have to worry about that. You have given off the exact right impression. You're a sweet, soft, lovely man. And I think you're very kind for coming down here to see me, despite all of that." She'd reached him. When had she reached him? She was suddenly there, right in front of him, touching no part of him and yet leaving no space between two bodies. She reached up, and cupped his cheek gently with one hand.

"But you are a man. A very cute man. Has anyone ever told you that?" Her hand, still cupped on his cheek, was leading him forward with such subtlety it was hard to realize he was moving at all. "You have very rugged features. And you deserve a little happiness every once in a while, without worrying so much about the consequences."

She had him an inch from her face, but she stopped there. "I'm not asking you to sleep with me. I'd love if you did, but not asking for it. I'm not going to be insulted if you don't want me. All I'm saying is that you worry too much. The world wouldn't explode if you and I enjoyed each other for a little while. The next day would still come. And you would have nothing to worry about."

She smiled, a brilliant, bright smile. "And you don't even have to decide right now. Just stay with me a while. Hold my hand. Breathe me in. And see what it feels like to really be free."

medigel

Nio Love

Enthusiastic Lunatic

17,350 Points
  • Object of Affection 150
  • Campaign Manager 500
  • Ultimate Player 200

medigel

Anxious Spirit

PostPosted: Fri Feb 06, 2015 3:40 pm


Of course she knew. He was stupid to think he was anything but obvious everywhere he went, like everything she said and did wasn't some sort of siren's call for his permanently bruised ego. But the rest of it--a very cute man, rugged features, and most of all, you deserve a little happiness--that was the discordant part of the song he couldn't translate. He didn't deserve anything, that wasn't how the world worked, and there were always consequences, always, always...

More sighed chuckles, soft and self-deprecating. "Yeah, yer right, I oughta loosen up...M'not normally this bad, honest. I just had a hell've a week," Dawson admitted.

He could only send fleeting glances at Maebe's smile, but despite being uncomfortably close he did feel better the more he did so. "Ya drive a hard bargain, hun," he joked, still pink-faced but at last finding the gumption to act, gently taking her hand off his face and curling it around the handle of his lunchbox as he offered it to her with a smile of his own. "But alright. Lord knows I'm always up fer chattin' up new friends. Not sure watcha mean by breathin' ya in n' bein' free, though, n'less ya got like...weed or somethin', hah..."

Beat.

"So the tour thing...?"

Nio Love
PostPosted: Fri Feb 06, 2015 4:14 pm


He was handing her his lunch box.

Maebe froze, trying to understand just what had happened. She looked down at the lunch box, and then picked it up. She recognized the cartoon on it - who wouldn't - and in her confusion, just blurted its name with no context. "Scooby Doo." It sounded like an observation, but really she didn't understand why she was holding a lunch box, and not a man's crotch rocket.

He didn't understand any of what she was saying, and she tried her best to tone it all down a notch, in order to put things in small, bite size morsels that he could digest and intake. She opened up the lunch box, and started to look through its contents. They were just as he'd listed them.

"I don't have any weed. I could get you some, if you come visit me again some time. I can see why weed would be a good idea, right now." She had never been forced to rely on intoxication or drug use of any kind to convince a man to sleep with her. It felt demeaning. She trudged forward regardless.

"I have a confession to make." She pulled out the Fruit Roll-up, and started to break it open with her teeth. "I can't give you a tour. I mean, I know the basics. I know where we spar and where we do those nasty encounters that people do for extra weapons. I know where people sleep and shower and swim, and the infirmary. That's, I think, it? The moral of this story, sweetheart, is that I really just wanted you to come to me." She shrugged, and smiled guiltily. "I'm not as complicated as I might seem. So, is this all for me? Because I'm not that hungry, but I'm taking the Fruit Roll-Up." She'd gotten it open, and started to unravel it. "I like my snacks like I like my men. Sweet."

medigel

Nio Love

Enthusiastic Lunatic

17,350 Points
  • Object of Affection 150
  • Campaign Manager 500
  • Ultimate Player 200

medigel

Anxious Spirit

PostPosted: Fri Feb 06, 2015 5:12 pm


The simple act of sharing food immediately made things more comfortable for him in a way he couldn't describe. "Naw thanks, I'm good," Dawson replied as he visibly relaxed, his smile coming easier now. "No weed needed ta bribe me over, hun—hell, I work on a system a'food n' hugs!" He pat his stomach proudly. "Much cheaper n' more satisfyin', yeah? Eat up watcha want."

Maybe a little too eagerly, his hand darted for the Ritz crackers. Dawson didn't get butterflies so much as he got major munchies.

"S'about as much's I know too," he said between nibbles. "Well, n' some bits've town I been helpin' reconstruct. But hey, ya got me here, hun, so!" He perked up. "Ya wanna tell me why you called yerself useless when we met? 'Cause I see a pretty go-getter who m'purdy sure coulda gotten anythin' or anyone she wanted n' that's like...the opposite've useless, yeah?"

Nio Love
PostPosted: Fri Feb 06, 2015 5:56 pm


A system of food and hugs. Maebe had tugged some of the fruit roll up out, but she paused when he said that, and a flash of genuine pain fluttered across her masked features. It would be easy to bribe Dawson, if food was the way to his heart. Just like chocolate had once been her weapon of choice.

She'd jumped into the pool too soon. She could see that now. She needed more time to forget, to cool down, to stop hurting, before she could win over strangers and corrupt innocent lives.

Dawson was spared. For now. Maybe.

She took the crackers before he could get them, and opened them up. In her hand she held one out, refusing to let him take it with anything but his mouth. Safe or not, she was Maebe. And she would always be Maebe, until the day she died.

"If you come sit back down and show me what all this hugging business you're talking about is, I'll tell you." Maybe having someone to talk to wouldn't be the end of the world, for one day. She really didn't know for sure. But he looked warm, and strong, and if she had to feed him crackers for affection, and leave without having brought him down to hell with her, it wouldn't be the end of the world.

Would it?

Maybe it would.

Maybe she'd leave a cracker trail to her bed, later. She tried not to think too hard on it.

medigel

Nio Love

Enthusiastic Lunatic

17,350 Points
  • Object of Affection 150
  • Campaign Manager 500
  • Ultimate Player 200

medigel

Anxious Spirit

PostPosted: Fri Feb 06, 2015 6:46 pm


He might or might not have been a little wounded getting the crackers snatched away too, but he swallowed it down. A petty theft didn't overshadow that moment's glance at what lied behind those empty eyes.

When he realized he couldn't simply reach out to get a simple cracker without being denied (tried several more times than any smart man should just to see if the game made her feel better), he made a small face, scratches his head like it was an honestly bewildering phenomena, and then laughed it off. "Well if yer gonna be like that, roll's yours!" he said as he went to sit down, chuckling again as Syn added her own toying with her food joke, completely missing both of women's points.

The chair wasn't a safe zone and neither was Maebe's bed, so Dawson sat against the wall and criss-crossed his legs. "Awright, sweet pea," he beamed as he patted his thigh, "whenever ya want. Man, ya forget how cozy regular rooms are after a while down there..."

Nio Love
PostPosted: Fri Feb 06, 2015 7:39 pm


It was funny, how Dawson thought there were safe zones in Maebe's room.

As soon as he crossed his legs, she flounced over and flopped down hard on them, curling into the hole his lap had conveniently made for her little form to sink down into. She picked up his hand with her own, put the crackers in them, and then held them out so she could pick them out one by one and feed them to him.

"Oh, stop being a baby. It's better this way. Just eat them."

She'd never had to deal with the problems of the underground troll basement life, but when she looked at her room through his eyes, she could appreciate how much better it was here. "I came in just at the end of when rooms were filling up. Barely made it. I count my lucky stars." The fruit roll up was shredded into strips. "But if the basement gets too cold, there's always a warm bed waiting for you here." She couldn't promise him a warm body, because she was sure that she was cold, and she already felt how much heat he emanated. The only thing she had to offer was the room, not herself.

"Grace." She muttered, laying her head on his shoulder. "It's such a beautiful word. I've never heard it as a last name. Where is your family from?"

medigel

Nio Love

Enthusiastic Lunatic

17,350 Points
  • Object of Affection 150
  • Campaign Manager 500
  • Ultimate Player 200

medigel

Anxious Spirit

PostPosted: Fri Feb 06, 2015 8:32 pm


Oof. "Yes'm," he said dutifully, still smiling a little as he obliged her. A pretty lady feeding him in his lap meant he had won the lottery as far as he was concerned. "N' thanks. I'll keep it in mind."

It was funny that people kept offering: out of the three who had extended him the courtesy, he was pretty sure he'd only ever be remotely comfortable when he borrowed America's place--and that was if she didn't already have company over. For all of Dawson's complaints about the basement, the spartan layout had become surprisingly welcoming to him: more nightmares, sure, but when didn't he have those? The constant work in progress the basement represented was like a challenge he couldn't refuse, even for company and a warm bed. (Remember, he didn't deserve anything.)

It also mattered that the offers from both Maebe and Chel felt strange in their own way, but he tried to avoid thinking about latter.

The word family in particular gave him pause, and Dawson's cheer flickered as he brushed the crumbs from his hands and chin. "Yep, it is," he said, hesitating before looping his arms around her and locking his hands near the small of her back. Even with Maebe's boldness already in play, it didn't mean he could be nearly as confident. "Sometimes don't feel like I'm wearin' it right t'be honest. S'a big word fer five letters...They're, uh, back in the States, in Georgia. Prolly gettin' ready t'go visit Looziana fer Mardi Gras right about now." A nostalgic but bitter smile briefly formed. "What 'bout you, Maebe-Grace-Bertrand?" Spaces, drawn out like she had done to his name earlier, in an attempt to understand someone who was supposedly not complex.

Nio Love
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THIS IS HALLOWEEN: Deus Ex Machina Training Facilities

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