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 Posted: Sat May 14, 2016 7:27 pm
Home The apartment is freshly cleaned and smells of paint and coffee, the distinct spices of something freshly cooked. Thorne throws his legs over the edge of the couch, Millie on his chest, and waits. Waits for as long as it takes for Shiloh to come around again.
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Posted: Sun May 15, 2016 6:14 pm
Home
And he comes around again, because he always does. It's been happening more often lately, but he doesn't really say anything. His posture sometimes speaks for him. Today it's the fresh bruise on his cheek.
He can't really say he's home, because he doesn't live here and he still feels awkward. It's hard to look Thorne in the eyes when he walks through the front door, his backpack hastily slung over his shoulder and still unzipped. There's a spare shirt hanging out and it's obvious he was in a hurry. He pretends for a minute that he isn't there.
And he stays by the door for a long while, closing his eyes to calm down, taking in the gentle smells wafting around him. He's not sure if safe has a smell, but if it did, it'd be this.
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Posted: Sun May 15, 2016 8:20 pm
HomeThorne knows the footsteps coming, knows when Shiloh is about to enter his apartment. He feels something twist like a knife in him when he sees the dark bruise forming on his cheek. His voice is calm - because he needs to be calm. He needs to be the safe haven in the storm for Shiloh. "Hey, kid. Hungry?" He swings his legs onto the ground and stands slowly, easily, moving to scoop Millie off of the other cushion so Shiloh has his pick of seats. She meows in his arms incessantly, paws on his chin. He walks over to Shiloh after the kid has had a minute to calm down. But he makes sure always - always to stop short of the others personal space. He gives Shiloh the choice to come closer, if he wants. "Are you alright?" He asks, softly. Because he isn't going to bombard Shiloh with questions right away, no matter the storm inside of him. Be there for him, he thinks, and swallows the anger that makes his knuckles feel restless and his mind blank with violence. Be there for him.
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Posted: Sun May 15, 2016 9:36 pm
Home
When Shiloh opens his eyes, Thorne's standing there and Millie's shoving her paws in his face. He's in low as hell spirits, but the scene makes him smile, despite the pain in his swollen face.
And recently, his personal space bubble has been shrinking less and less. He lets Thorne come closer now, and he approaches him with a little less tension.
He toes his shoes off slowly. He's sluggish and sore and that much is obvious, but his boots are by the door now, and his backpack is set down carefully next to them. He's considering his answer quietly, because he knows the truth is already written out on his face.
"...I don't think so, but I will be." because he's always okay. He has to be. He has to move forward. Life doesn't wait around for anyone. His smile says don't worry about it, but his eyes are tired and helpless. Change the subject, it'll come back to it. Always does.
"What'cha cookin'? It smells nice" but he always says it smells nice, no matter what's on the stove, because he's simple and easy to please and nothing beats something warm in his empty stomach.
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Posted: Sun Jun 12, 2016 9:13 pm
hunting groundsThorne kidnapped Shiloh on a blustery, boring, and ultimately useless Sunday afternoon. He'd lured him out with the promise of food, but the car was filled with nothing but iced teas and the diabetes inducing frappe drinks sold in convenience stores, a packet of oreos all but devoured already. Thorne hadn't given Shiloh any details on their afternoon adventure, but that was largely because Thorne didn't know what they were doing.
So now they were driving the outskirts of Ashdown, the districts full of abandoned manufacturing buildings and warehouses, overgrown lots for sale in disuse and dives that had never quite won the audience of the town over.
"What if," Thorne said mildly, tapping a rhythm on the steering wheel, "I just bought a warehouse."
It wasn't, in the grand scheme of things, the stupidest concept he'd ever had in his head.
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Posted: Mon Jun 13, 2016 1:06 pm
Hunting GroundsWhen Thorne said there would be food, Shiloh had been on his front porch in record time. When he got into Thorne's car and saw none of the aforementioned edible material, he sat quietly, watching every single convenient store, fast food joint, ordinary restaurant that passed them by...
So now he was sitting—or well, he was—in the passenger seat. He had slid down so far that his legs were folded awkwardly in the seat's leg space and his head was knocked against the cushion where his mid-back should have been.
Shiloh did not look very happy.
"A warehouse." Shiloh's voice was dry and deadpan, "Like, an entire warehouse? Do you even make enough at that shitty art shop to afford that?"
Not like Shiloh ******** cared, because Shiloh was ******** hungry. "Look, I don't really caaaare." he emphasized with his hands, making vague gesticulations with them.
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Posted: Mon Jun 13, 2016 1:30 pm
Hunting GroundsThorne felt kind of bad. A little. Just a little. That he had tricked Shiloh into his car.
"I'll buy you whatever the ******** you want for food after this," he retorted, reaching over to jab a finger at Shiloh's stomach (gently.) "So start thinking. If you say McDonalds, I'm going to be disappointed in your lack of creativity."
Thorne glanced over at Shiloh. "You know there's an ungodly amount of sweets in the glove-box, right?" With a slow smile, he added, "You really think I only make money at that art shop?" He perked up as the wheels of the car dropped from smooth sailing to the bumpy texture of a gravel road that wiggled in a serpentine pattern through some decrepit grassy fields to what had to be the most rundown red-brick warehouse in existence.
It looked gutted, black-eyed, the second story full of monolithic windows worn out by age.
"Oh," Thorne said. "That one. That one's good."
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Posted: Tue Jun 14, 2016 3:30 pm
Hunting GroundsThough the jab was gentle, Shiloh's response was highly unnecessary, if not probably expected. While he didn't raise his voice (or make any sort of sound), Shiloh did shoot straight up into his seat, knees smashing against his chest as he balled up where he sat.
This was all followed by a very soft, petulant mnehh!
"And what if I did want ********' McDonalds? What if I was dying and that was my last goddamn wish?" he was reaching into the glove box with a new reckless abandon, "Would you still be disappointed in me? Some dying guy who just wanted some carcinogenic chicken to clog up his arteries one last time?"
Speaking of artery clogging, Shiloh wasn't even looking at the candy he was unwrapping as he shoved it into his mouth, momentarily placated by the sugar that dissolved so sweetly into his mouth. Soon would be the tooth pain, and by god he was ready.
Or well, he would have been, except Thorne had stopped in front of probably one of the most trashiest places in existence. Shiloh stared at the warehouse—and the warehouse stared back.
"Didn't you ever like... take those aptitude tests in school?" Shiloh started very slowly, "Like y'know, "where do you think you'll be in ten years" kind of garbage. Because this—" he motioned to the decrepit structure, "—isn't really where most people end up. I think this is where most people avoid Thorne. You're going backwards."
Shiloh sighed, because it honestly wasn't his choice, but he couldn't help but be completely perplexed.
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Posted: Tue Jun 14, 2016 4:36 pm
Hunting Grounds
Thorne rumbled at Shiloh's response, a noise that could have been apologetic. "Sorry," he said out loud, exhaling sharply and looking back to the road. At the accusation, his lips curled upwards into a wry smile, and he drummed a beat onto the steering wheel.
"So we're really going to end up at McDonalds after this? Because if we are, I'm going to eat a minimum of seven McFlurries, as a prerequisite to everything else." Thorne watched Shiloh rip into the glove box and devour his cache of reserve sweets with absolute abandon. It was something to marvel at, really. His grin was light and teasing.
His eyes flashed as he looked back at the trashed out warehouse, the red brick showing the signs of climbing ivy and weeds in the foundations and cracks. There was something marvelously terrible about it that Thorne loved.
"Those aptitude tests were junk anyways," Thorne retorted. "I mean. Did you write down 'in one month I'll see myself in a car with a guy who obviously shouldn't be trusted to make adult decisions in his own life because I was lured outside by the promise of food'?" His eyes flicked to Shiloh. "It could obviously use some work but hell, better than a boring apartment, right?"
He smiled at Shiloh before putting the car park and kicking open the door. "Come on, let's do something illegal. And then I swear we'll find the closest McDonalds and I'll make a call."
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Posted: Tue Jun 14, 2016 7:54 pm
Hunting GroundsHonestly, the touch hadn't bothered Shiloh that much. It was just—well, this was Shiloh after all.
"Look, I'm not saying we're going to McDonalds, I'm just wondering what your damage—" he paused at the end of his sentence, "—Illegal? What the ********, so they were parked now. He looked up from his chocolate coated finger tips at Thorne, who was already kicking his door open. Well, nothing better to do than follow in his proverbial footsteps. Shiloh's buckle came off, and his passenger side door opened up almost as unceremoniously.
"Anyway. At the least the stupid test gave me some viable form of hope. Life's still garbage though." well, that wasn't necessarily true. He had Jamie and he had Chris and...
Well, Thorne was kind of a moron, but he had him too. Honestly of the three, Thorne probably understood him the most, despite being the goddamn oldest. "I mean, you'd have an assbackwards amount of space I guess?" he looked at the dilapidated windows, the dated look and all the wear and tear that this thing had endured over the years. "Like, assbackwards amounts." what would one single person even do with this much room anyway? Shiloh couldn't fathom.
Okay, well, if he had this much room, he'd probably convert it into the worlds largest turtle sanctuary, or something. It'd be great.
"We gonna take a look around?"
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Posted: Tue Jun 14, 2016 9:19 pm
hunting grounds"s**t, kid, you think all I ever do is paint and chase hooligans around art shops?" Thorne shot back with a warm smile, his eyes wicked and bright. He was stepping out onto the gravel and dirt of the makeshift drive before Shiloh was out, the wind whipping his hair back and bringing with it the scent of crabgrass and oncoming rain. Sooner or later there would be a storm-front. Thorne tilted his head back and looked at the windows.
And what a cool place to be able to watch it from.
"Hey," Thorne added, glancing up at Shiloh with a slight grin, "at least you're not alone, yeah?" He shrugged and stepped onto the cracked concrete that formed a walkway around the building. "What would you do with that much space?" Thorne asked mildly, glancing at Shiloh when he got out of the car. His grin was slow and amused. "An assbackwards amount sounds perfect to me. If you've got it, flaunt it... or something, right?"
He gestured for Shiloh to follow him and didn't even bother testing his weight on the rusted staircase that led to a second story entrance before climbing it to the top. There was a certain practiced ease about everything he was doing, from the way he tested the door for weaknesses before simply - jimmying it upwards and popping it open like this was a ******** Oceans Thirteen heist.
The inside was exactly what he expected - an aggressively open maw of space, full of concrete flooring and high vaulted ceilings with windows decrepit with age. "There," Thorne said, pointing to the closest alcove. "Kitchen. And then... laundry, if it isn't ******** up, bath, closet? A lot of closets?" He was pointing to doors or coves that branched away from the main space, envisioning something that wasn't there yet, a slight wicked steel in his voice that spoke of a choice already made.
He glanced back at Shiloh. "Have I surprised you yet?"
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Posted: Wed Jun 15, 2016 12:32 pm
if it fits shiloh??? sits??? Approximately a week after Thorne kidnaps Shiloh for a warehouse adventure, Thorne kidnaps Shiloh to pack. But instead he ends up sitting on his counter in the mostly empty space, eating out of one of the three boxes of pizza they'd ordered beforehand.
"You're so small," Thorne says to Shiloh, "I bet I could fit you in one of these boxes and mail you to Chris. It would be like Christmas in July."
Melancholies i'm literally using shiloh to expedite this whole moving part LMFAO
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Posted: Wed Jun 15, 2016 2:06 pm
Hunting Grounds"Well you seem pretty damn practiced." Shiloh retorted, standing next to Thorne as he sized up the storm front. Water wasn't Shiloh's favorite thing in the world (at least not swimming in it) but the rain was nice and soothing and atmospheric.
"And I dunno what I'd do. This is a lot of space, y'know." he made small talk responses as he followed Thorne to the door, watching as he popped the door clear open like it was nothing. The interior, somehow, looked much sorrier than the outside. Thorne might be seeing a potential living area, but Shiloh was pretty sure this place was just a dump.
"Sure, sure. Just put a shitton of closets in, that makes sense. You can have this half and I'll put my room on the other." Shiloh was being smarmy and sarcastic, because who the ******** would want to live here other than Thorne. he kicked his leg as his shoe caught on a cobweb, grimacing slightly, "I'd say the only surprise would be you developing that mesothelioma s**t they talk about on TV commercials all the damn time, but that would hardly be shocking." Seriously, a place like this was probably loaded with asbestos clear back from the sixties.
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Posted: Wed Jun 15, 2016 2:46 pm
Hunting GroundsThorne snorts, laughter curling from his throat. "I traded my soul to the devil and he gave me the ability to break and enter and never get caught," he retorted, throwing a glance over his shoulder at Shiloh.
"It is. I guess that means I'll have to find something to do with it. Maybe I'll get a dog. Or just kidnap you." Thorne shrugged and entered the warehouse, undisturbed by the things Shiloh seemed held up on. Maybe there was something wicked in him that wanted a massive project to deal with. Maybe Thorne was just crazy.
Whatever it was, it meant a long phone call to someone, and then fifty more to everyone else. McDonalds would have to do - where else would he get cheap sweets for as many hours as it took?
"I'll need one dedicated to my secret collection of offensively large hats first," Thorne joked back. He glanced over at Shiloh though, and his tone dropped, serious as a sudden thunderclap. "You know you always have a room wherever I live, right? All you have to do is come. A key goes to you wherever I go, kid." He shrugged, and pointed at the concrete. "This will be hardwood floor. The windows... will get cleaned." There was a pause. Thorne pointed up. What looked like an office was connected to a ramp that circled the second story entirely, an age-old cat walk that secured the perimeters for god only knew what reason.
"What the hell should we do with that?"
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Posted: Thu Jun 16, 2016 2:34 pm
if it fits shiloh??? sits??? Three pizzas was, somehow, both excessive and not enough. Shiloh had a terrible tendency to gorge himself when the opportunity presented itself, and this was good as one as any.
"What the <********> He asked after a bite, a long string of cheese still connected to the pizza slice in his hand. <******** you. You're just tall, jackass."
He was tall and he was highly unproductive, if all the pizza was anything to go by. Sure, they'd moved a little here and there, but mostly? Mostly it was just the pizza. At least it was for Shiloh.
"Besides, that's ********' weird as hell. Why the hell would Chris want me for Christmas. s**t, wait, actually—" Shiloh's eyes sparkled in a sudden realization "—D'you think Christmas is his favorite holiday? Like, it's got his name in it and s**t. Christmas."
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