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moonjavas

PostPosted: Fri Aug 26, 2016 10:30 pm


      Thorne (Masked) | | 25/25 | | Ready to ******** s**t Up (TM)


Clink, clink, clink went the mask.

Tap, tap, tap went the boots on the floor.

Thorne was on the hunt. It wasn't midnight. Not yet. Probably. So he didn't have anywhere in particular to be. His twin was probably still in his dirty little room full of plants, smelling of dirt and panic. Melany was in the Ivory Hall. And when she didn't call, he had no need to answer. He could stand there and look pretty for her all night - but why bother? There was his twin for that, and besides, if Melany wanted him, she would call.

And of course he would answer.

But for now, he bit down on the sweetened edge of freedom in this festering kingdom and searched the halls, listening to the muttered chaos of chickens running around in a crazy. Everyone wanted to find answers, but what were answers but an end to something?

Clink, clink, clink went the mask.

Tap, tap - tap.

"Ah," Thorne hummed out as he turned a corner and found someone new. Someone familiar. Someone -

His head tilted at Chris, half-veiled by the ornate rabbit mask. The man looked beautiful. Fit for this place, from the flowing scent of flowers in his hair to the pretty clothing the magic had given him. Was it a blessing or a curse that he wore a mask himself?

What had someone told him once about myths and legends and ancient things? They led the most beautiful ones in, and killed them. How strange.

"Chris," Thorne said, his mouth gentled away from the casual grin he'd held in the Ivory Hall, the feline smirk that he'd used on Hux. "You've been to see him." He tilted his head, inhaling sharply. The scent of dirt and sweat, the wet-soft heat of a room swallowed by green. There were a few steps between them in this darkened hall, this empty space full of pockets and alcoves and cold stone, brittle flares and flickers of light that didn't stretch far enough. Never seemed to touch.

Thorne cut across the space with ease, until they were only a hairs width apart. Beautiful thing. The mask jangled softly, the expression flared across his face, not quite anything yet. Where would this go? Lead me, Thorne thought. Show me who you are.

"Hey," he said, his voice accented and sultry and slow, "Shall we play a game?"


PeanutButterPies
Testing testing 1 2 3 >B)
PostPosted: Sat Aug 27, 2016 12:07 am


Chris Watts || 25/25 || Not Dealing with This

He had only wanted a breather.

Chris had been so accustomed to being on his own for long that the whole ball itself was somewhat overwhelming. It wasn't in a bad way, persay. just that so much of his time was spent on his own that it was kind of strange to have people talking to him again. To have so many bodies pressed against his, to have so much noise and excitement. Back at home, it was him and his cat and the music or TV he'd have for background noise sometimes. Oh, he'd go out for things sometimes, to get groceries or chat with Jer, but they were always small things, spaced out between weeks and weeks of time.

This, this was all at once and was just... so much. So overwhelming, and that was without even everything else.

Everything else being Thorne and Shiloh who had been here for so long, both of them who didn't remember him. Shiloh treated him like a stranger and Thorne didn't even know Chris' name, just knew him by sound and sight and smell. Things that didn't add up to the bigger picture, just fragments of everything.

The way Thorne looked like he was empty, echos of where he seemed to absentmindedly be checking for things that shouldn't have been there. How Shiloh looked tired, acted nothing like he had been, off kilter and almost as much of a stranger to Chris as he was to Shiloh.

That in itself could have been enough to turn Chris' night upside down, but both of them combined had just left him feeling strangled and overwhelmed as he tried to process it both. So he was taking a breather, some time to think about everything and nothing at all, just charge before he went back into the fray.

Looking for a way out for him and Thorne, for Shiloh and Jamie and everyone else who needed out. The pieces were starting to form in his hands, if he could just put them together then - then he would know what to do. He could fix it all.

Fix what he had messed up.

His head snapped towards the sudden noise that he heard, someone encroaching on his space. He had had enough of Otherbeings, of things taking no notice of his space and pulling him into dances and treating him like a toy, like he was nothing. He couldn't imagine Thorne doing this for months if this is what it was like and he bared his teeth, ready to tell whatever was coming to ******** off. He had no love for this court, he would burn the whole damn place to the ground if he could. Take the fire that Jer wielded so well to make the whole place ashes.

Oh, what was that saying his mom had told him when he was young? Bad things come in threes, she had said, mouth a thin line.

First, was the tithe itself. Second, was Thorne and Shiloh and being here.

"Who the <********> are you?" Chris hissed to the third, fists clenched by his side.

elkbones
hello, lets get this show on the road :3c

grayseasons

Tiny Trickster


moonjavas

PostPosted: Sat Aug 27, 2016 12:24 am


Thorne (Masked) | | 25/25 | | About to start some s**t

Thorne tilted his head.

Clink, clink went the mask. His laughter crowded the air, the tight space of the hallway. There was nowhere to go. He could touch him if he wanted to, right here and now. Not yet, not yet, a voice whispered. Wait. It is better that you wait. A soft, lupine growl or laugh or purr fell from Thorne's lips at the question, pulled through his teeth by the soft bite of amusement.

"You know exactly who I am," he returned. "Take a wild guess, Chris."

He stepped closer, felt the heat radiate off of Chris. Hunger burned through him, sharp and incessant. He could never seem to sate it. Not in the Ivory Hall, not in Hux's little cage. His body felt wired, electric, and Chris was an iron rod stretched out towards him. Waiting on fate. Waiting.

"You reek of him." There was a slow, contemptuous furl in his words, and Thorne bore his fangs in a smile or the threat of a bite. It was unclear. It was both. It was neither. "But wouldn't you rather play a game with me? I might even give you something nice."

He paused, reaching a hand up to touch the tip of his mask as though he might take it off. But instead he only toyed with one of the golden droplets, worrying it between his fingers with a second, dangerous sound deep in the base of his throat.

"After all, don't you want to save them?"


PeanutButterPies
get ready
PostPosted: Sat Aug 27, 2016 12:37 am


Chris Watts || 25/25 || Wanting to ******** Nope out

The sound of that mask, oh Chris absolutely hated it. Earlier, when he had given Rabbit that foxcat, he had told Chris that Adoelle was part of the tithe. That she didn't have a mask and Chris had realized that this was a little more than a masquerade. The masks offered something, because those that didn't have masks were few and far apart.

They were something important and that this, this impostor had one but Chris' Thorne didn't, it stung him deep.

Pieces, all he had was pieces and nothing to show for it yet. Nothing worked together where he could get a full picture, just bits and things that didn't entirely make sense yet.

"A cheap impostor," Chris replied flippantly, mouth a snarl. "A bootleg."

He jerked backwards as the other came closer, trying to get as much space as he could. Stay away, stay away, his instincts screamed, feeling on edge and hunted. Like nothing but prey.

"Can't stand the smell of something better?" He hissed, his own teeth bared, all anger and rage. Do not touch, it screamed, Do not come closer. If he was smart, he would follow those rules, take the warnings and leave.

But of course, Other Ashdown always played by its own rules.

He watched him touch the mask, eyes narrowing behind his own mask. There was something about the masks there, information he couldn't quite grasp. Oh and there it was, there it was the bait to snare the trap. Something that Chris couldn't resist, not here and not now when he was too raw and open. Nothing to defend himself with except words and actions, but no real thought behind it.

"What could you possibly offer me?" The words themselves sounded flippant, defiant, like he could care less. But there was undercurrent of vulnerability under there, curiosity. An opening.

elkbones
here we go~~

grayseasons

Tiny Trickster


moonjavas

PostPosted: Sat Aug 27, 2016 1:16 am


Thorne (Masked) | | 25/25 | | ******** around with Chris

"Fooled you," Thorne said evenly, tilting his head at Chris. He felt wild and electric and this was going to be fun. Chris was a mirror with a hairline fracture. A block of ice on the verge of shattering completely. He was beautiful, and breakable, and Thorne thought that the sight of him breaking might be something worth stealing.

"How many times did you find me?" Thorne asked, his voice dipping. "How many times when you couldn't sleep and thought it was him?"

The mask jingled again. It was a soft stutter. A lullaby of sound. This hall echoed with their voices and the breath they caught in between. Thorne clicked his tongue, condescending, at Chris when he jerked backwards.

"You can call me whatever you want," Thorne said, dropping his hands and spreading them to either side. In every respect, he was a mirror image of his double in the alcove. A closer inspection warranted small deviations. Three fresh piercings in his ears. A new tattoo, curving up hungrily against his exposed neck.

He was the same. He was not. He was a fracture image. Painted wrong.

But what did details matter anyways?

He stepped forward, crowding Chris backwards. He let a hand slip out, flat against the blonds chest, nails on the edge of biting. A bright starburst of contact. How many times? His mouth curved, and he flashed his teeth in a smile. A smirk. Something else entirely.

"Call me a cheap impostor, a bootleg, a fraud." Thorne exhaled each word like a bullet. "But you fell for it. You fell for it. And you left him here. All of them." He hummed, a soft sound that would have been soothing in his twins throat. But from the masked Thorne, it came off like a taunt, a tease, a dangerous, prowling sound.

"Play my game and I'll tell you," Thorne purred, and his nails suddenly dug into Chris's flesh, a biting reminder. "Or run around in the dark. You only have so much time left. So make your choice."

Thorne flipped his other hand, nonchalantly, eyes rolling beneath his mask. His mouth curled into laughter. Turned at the wrong angle in his mouth. Something that shouldn't have been sinister in this body but was.

"Or let him die."


PeanutButterPies
PostPosted: Sat Aug 27, 2016 1:45 am


Chris Watts || 25/25 || About to ******** break

It would have been easier for the Impostor to shoot him and with the way Chris flinched, it was almost like he had.

It was true, that Chris had come to him a handful of times without any sleep. When he was on the verge of breaking, when his hands were shaking and he couldn't think straight, couldn't do anything but sit there and wish his body wouldn't fight so violently against him.

Is it you? He would ask him, every single time he opened the door. It was a cruel joke now, a trick on Chris.

"I..." He started, but his mouth hung there useless. I couldn't have even told my reflection apart from myself, how could I have told the difference, he wanted to say, but there was no defense to be had without admitting some vulnerability he didn't want to show.

There was no defense for him in reality, anyways. He should have known. He should have always known.

Is it you? Echoed again.

"Bootleg, then," He quipped, but there was less bite in his words than before, less of a fight to put up. Instead there was shame, ensnaring him, trapping him. Weak, weak, weak.

His breath hitched at the sudden contact, the sudden closeness and everything in Chris was screaming at full pitch, telling him to get away. He felt far too caged in, far too much like someone ******** you," He hissed, pushing Bootleg Thorne away from him, trying to get some space. Trying to feel like he could breath again, like he wasn't two seconds away from collapsing. "I couldn't... I'm fixing what I did. I'll fix it."

He huffed out a breath, focusing away from the other's face to try and find other details, picking out what was different. Calming himself down, trying to feel less like the child he was sounded like and more like the adult he was, someone who could think things through rationally.

But all his fears were being preyed on and he couldn't resist.

It was a second of breathing, of Chris narrowing his eyes at the bootleg and pretending like he was considering. But he had already agreed a minute ago and he knew it, knew that he was about to play a game he shouldn't. He should have walked away when he saw him but Chris was finding he was weak when it came to Thorne, no matter the version.

"I'll play, but don't touch me," He said finally, distaste clearly evident.

elkbones

grayseasons

Tiny Trickster


moonjavas

PostPosted: Sat Aug 27, 2016 12:56 pm


Thorne (Masked) | | 25/25 | | It's about to get bad

There was something wrong with this Thorne, like looking at a distortion. From one angle, everything was right. And from another - wrong, wrong, wrong. Smart of Chris to notice it. Smart, but there was nothing he could do. Thorne had seen him countless times on the edge of breaking.

Is it you?

He had always laughed, always. Who else, a ghost? he'd ask Chris as he let him in. And this one was a different taste entirely in his throat. The past haunts of Thorne's life from before had left a bitter taste in his throat. A constant pang, like regret, like the taste of smoke from a bitter drag. But this one had tasted like promise, hope. A dangerous, hungry thing.

Of course he'd wanted it.

Who else, who else, he'd laughed. And every time he got a little closer. Every time he let his touch linger a little longer.

"At least buy me a drink first," Thorne teased, his voice low and soft and sure. "You're fixing what you did? You really think you can?"

Thorne huffed, an animal sound of amusement. He dropped his hands and coiled them against the small of his back, watching Chris with a patient sort of amusement, lupine and wicked.

"Was it so bad with me?" Thorne asked, tilting his head to the side. "Was it so bad all those nights when you couldn't stay away? Isn't there a reason you kept coming back, thinking it was him, only to let yourself get led away by me?" His eyes shuddered, lidded, and the mask jingled again. He reached out and slid his fingers against the material of Chris's own.

It was obvious he didn't listen to anyone else's rules but his own.

"Truth or dare," he asked.


PeanutButterPies
PostPosted: Sat Aug 27, 2016 3:19 pm


Chris Watts || 25/25 || Choo Choo all aboard the train to hell

He hated being near this Thorne, hated this echo of someone he cared about mock him. Remind him of his faults and his flaws, the moments where he hadn't been enough. The possibility that he couldn't be enough.

Who else?

"Oh, clever. Very original," Chris said dryly, trying to hide his discomfort. Trying to hide that he was being hit everywhere he was vulnerable, even though that the other Thorne would know, had seen Chris already at his worst. There was precious little that he could hide.

"I don't think I can, I know."

There was no other option, no other way around it. Chris couldn't fix that he had ******** up in the first place, but he could make sure that he wouldn't ******** up a second time. This was the universe giving him a chance and no matter the odds, he would take it.

Maybe Thorne would forgive him, some time after it.

"How am I supposed to know," He hissed, "I barely remember any of it." A lie, a bad lie, but he didn't want to admit that he couldn't tell the difference. That he thought they were one in the same, that he had been fooled and wasn't any different than anyone who had just the barest relationship with Thorne.

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, tried to find some calm. Tried to not feel like his skin was crawling when Bootleg touched his mask, so alike yet so different from Thorne. He wouldn't lean into this touch, wouldn't savor the affection that was being shown his way.

"Truth," He said, sounding more calm than he felt.

elkbones

grayseasons

Tiny Trickster


moonjavas

PostPosted: Sat Aug 27, 2016 6:43 pm


Thorne (Masked) | | 25/25 | | Starting slow

"It gets to you at least," Thorne retorted, and stepped back, crossing his arms and leaning against the near wall with lupine ease. He felt confident enough that Chris wouldn't walk away from him. And even if he did - well. He was a fractured creature clutching straws.

Thorne wanted to watch him burn just to know what his own reaction would be. Before he had wondered about the acrid taste of hope in his mouth at the thought of this one. Now he wondered about the aftermath.

"Very well. You know." Thorne gave the argument up easily, but his tone was condescending. His tongue flicked across the inside of his cheek, pressing up against the sharp canines, tasting the hollow there. "I'll enjoy watching you try."

Thorne tilted his head back, baring his throat as he laughed. Truth, Chris picked. Did he think Truth would be easier? Thorne thought about his first question, a low hum coiling in the base of his throat. He chased the edges of before. The feral, growing thing that had erupted between his twin and this one just before he'd slipped in through the cracks. A manifested double, a perfect mirror image, bludgeoned by every encounter until he was unmade and remade again.

"Truth," he echoed with amusement, and looked back down. He was quieter now. Thoughtful, sharp, watching. Waiting. In the blink of an eye, his entire demeanor flashed from wicked and alive to something coiled back inwards. There was a softened look in his eyes behind the mask. It was easy enough to mistake for his twins fond gaze that an untrained eye would miss the hunger of it. The way it was inverted, different.

"Are you willing to die tonight?" He clicked his tongue, thoughtful, and tilted his head to the side. "For him. Them."

His eyes flared, wild-bright. Dangerous, content to wait on this game to begin.


PeanutButterPies
PostPosted: Sat Aug 27, 2016 8:44 pm


Chris Watts || 25/25 || Not sure what's about to happen

Chris rolled his eyes, but didn't make any effort to leave, just savor the fact he had some personal space back. He had said he would play the game anyways, he wasn't about to leave. Who knew, maybe this a*****e would give him information he needed.

He hoped he would, anyways.

"I'm sure you will," Chris said, frowning deeply. He wouldn't say anything after that, but he knew Bootleg didn't believe him. It didn't matter, he could burn with the court too. All that mattered was Thorne getting out, Shiloh getting out.

Chris' frown turned into a scowl, knowing that he was being mocked. It wasn't that he had picked truth to be cowardly, it was just something that he had always done. Pick truth to sound out the game, to see what they might pick as a dare, what they were going for. Easy, when you were fourteen and if you didn't pick dare they wanted you to "say who your crush was", which then Chris would know what the dare would be then.

A bit harder now, that he was bargaining with some ******** up version of his friend, but habits were habits and strategies were strategies. Even if it didn't work, it still was fine to start out with.

He still watched Bootleg, watched him consider what to ask. For a second he looked like Thorne but... there were differences. Small things that Chris could pick out that weren't right, once he was looking for them. No small wonder that he had been fooled, but it still didn't burn any less that he was so stupid.

"Yes," He said without hesitation, the answer almost surprising himself. But it was true and he knew it the minute it came out of his mouth. He would do it because they had proven to him they were worth it. Worth more than him, even.

"Do I also get to ask you questions in this game? Or is it just you?"

elkbones

grayseasons

Tiny Trickster


moonjavas

PostPosted: Sat Aug 27, 2016 10:33 pm


Thorne (Masked) | | 25/25 | | Get wrekt

Thorne chuckled and it was a slow, melodic thing. He laid against the wall with ease, at home in this dark corner with Chris. And to an untrained eye, he looked exactly like his twin. If he tried, if he put in effort, he could surely fool anyone into the belief that he was something else entirely.

He tilted his head at Chris's response to him. The scowl was cute. The expression was pretty. He flicked his tongue up to the roof of his mouth. So this is what you wanted, he thought. So this is the company you were searching for. Well, it wasn't one-sided. Too bad it's too late. It was a sweet revelation, like honey for the tragedy of it.

Thorne locked the information away though, and lowered his eyes. Later, later. It would all come into play. Later. Truth or dare was for most players asinine. It meant nothing. But here, now, it was the angled edge of something sharp. If Thorne pressed on it, would it pierce? Would it fracture? How strong are you? Thorne was asking, really, how pliant are you to this?

"Well now, a martyr, how cute," Thorne responded, his voice soft and low. His head tilted to the side, eyes locked on Chris. "Do you really think that will solve anything though? You know what it's like to live with guilt. And death doesn't happen to you. It happens to everyone else." He spread one hand out, a smile on his face. "You lose either way. Kill yourself in this endeavor, and you choke them on the guilt of your sacrifice. Or cut yourself on their pieces, trying to drag them out."

He paused, a delicate hum chained in his throat. There was an air of suspension here, like watching a serpent in a wooden basket, not quite contained. Coiling and hissing, lying in wait.

"He won't let you, either way, and you'll be his bullet," Thorne added as an afterthought. "As much as Melany has broken him, he's unable to be tamed, and he'd take the kill blow before letting you. Do you know what you tasted like to him?" He paused, flicking his tongue over the answer in his throat and switching tracks. "You're in a losing game. As for the other one - well, I've seen the pieces. He'll hate you if you take him, and he'll forget you if you don't."

Thorne drew his arm back and adjusted the mask. It jangled softly. It reminded him of who he was.

"If you'd like," Thorne said with laughter that mimicked his twins in a cruel fashion, warped just enough to be a knife. "I'm a generous host. Dare."


PeanutButterPies
GET WREKT
PostPosted: Sat Aug 27, 2016 11:17 pm


Chris Watts || 25/25 || Getting ******** was unnerving watching this copy, although he wouldn't admit it within an inch of his life. In his moves he could see things that were Thorne, things that he had seen happen before. He picked at the edge of his bracelet, giving Bootleg another frown but nothing else.

He wondered what was going on in his head, wondered what made him different from Thorne that he was afforded this sort of ease that the original didn't have. What allowed him to laugh so freely, to give smiles like this, when Thorne was so pensive and drawn back.

So many questions, so few answers. He wanted more than he was being afforded, but he would have to make it work in his favor. He was not leaving this court with nothing.

It was a minute before Chris replied, eyes narrowed. "It doesn't matter if it will solve anything. Your question was an if, not a death sentence. Just because I would die for them doesn't mean I have to and I don't plan to." He took a deep breath, trying to contain himself. Smoke and mirrors, this was all that it was. Nothing this double said had to be true. "Unless you're trying to state something here?"

He leaned back on the wall, trying to appear more relaxed than he felt. Like he wasn't trying to sort through words to just find something that would help him.

"Don't.. It doesn't matter. It won't matter," He hissed, angry all over again. Angry for Thorne who couldn't defend himself, who had been stuck in this hell for so very long. "He's not a dog to be tamed, he's a ******** human and there won't be any death if I can manage it." He paused at the last question, confusion obvious. Unsure how to answer, how to give any reply to that. It was easier to move on.

"He's hated me already, it doesn't matter. It won't matter," He brushed it off, the words not bitter so much as familiar. A truth he had admitted to himself so many times to make it stop hurting. He knew Shiloh didn't like him that much, wouldn't like him that much. It wouldn't stop him from doing the right thing.

He tilted his head as he watched Bootleg adjust his mask. There was a question he needed to ask, but would take it later.

"I dare you to not ******** touch me. Still Truth."

He wasn't going to question the boon he was getting.

elkbones

grayseasons

Tiny Trickster


moonjavas

PostPosted: Sun Aug 28, 2016 12:16 am


Thorne (Masked) | | 25/25 | | Being a Little s**t (TM)

"Nothing in particular," Thorne replied in a drawl, eyes flickering up and away. "We're all dying, anyways. Tick tock goes the clock, or something like that." He closed his eyes. "Death is a variable of tonight. It could be your life or someone else's. But it doesn't matter. Not really. Just a side effect." Thorne chuckled and opened his eyes again, turning his head and angling it at Chris. He pushed away from the wall at the rest of the others response.

"Oh, but you should have heard him howl," he said softly, "should have heard them bark. Melany could tell Shiloh to heel and he would. She could tell him to kill someone and it could be you. And he would do it. Do you know what she does to people? She takes away their hope." He gave a shrug, nonchalant, and dropped the subject just as quickly as he'd picked it apart.

"But you're so angry," Thorne drawled, his voice a lush hum of pleased sound. "You're burning with it. If it didn't matter, why are you so afraid?" He tilted his head at the dare, one way and then the other. The soft jangle of his mask whispered through the hall. And the thing itself was a contradiction, beautifully crafted. A rabbit mask for a wolf waiting to bite.

Fitting, fitting, fitting.

"That's a boring dare," he drawled. He stepped forward. Once. Twice. It was a slow, dangerous predators pace in him, and he used it to draw out the seconds between when he was at one end of the hall and the other. When he was close enough that their breath mingled against each others, Thorne smiled.

"Very well," he said. "No touching. For now."

His eyes dipped down, up again, hands once again resting at the small of his back.

"What were you looking for," he asked slowly, his voice soft, nearly gentle, "when you came to him all those nights? You kept asking is it you? But I think you were searching for something else."


PeanutButterPies
love u too babe
PostPosted: Sun Aug 28, 2016 1:43 am


Chris Watts || 25/25 || Doesn't know what to do

Chris only tilted his head, considering what he was being told. Was this something to remember, or just another round of bullshit intended to baffle Chris. He decided to not reply regardless, simply following Bootleg with his eyes.

He flinched at the description, at the knowledge that Shiloh would kill if just told. At how they'd been broken, used. "Hope is the most dangerous thing," He whispered softly, an old adage that he'd never been able to shake. One that seemed to hold true.

"Fear and anger aren't mutually exclusive concepts," He replied carefully, avoiding the question. Avoiding the real answer, the idea that could poison himself if he let it happen. Afraid of failure, of not being able to do what he promised, of being less than anything but the best he could be.

He wouldn't reveal what few cards he had left.

He only scowled at Bootleg coming close, pushing the rules but not breaking them. But Chris had gotten what he wanted, at least for now. Small steps, build up to what he wanted the most. Chris was patient, when he needed to be.

Oh, but what a question to be asked for truth. He stared at Bootleg, considering, wondering what to say. But most of this had already been revealed long before he knew the game and so he sighed, dropped his head to the wall behind him and looked up.

"I was.. I was looking for comfort. For safety. I can't- You know this, what a stupid question to ask. But when I don't sleep that long I start to see things and I can't tell the difference between what's real and whats an illusion. But it's easier around someone else, the things start to go away. I can tell what's truly there, what isn't." Chris sighed, mouth pressed into a line before finally saying, "Thorne, the real one and not you, he made it better the best of all. Some of them, it took awhile for everything to go away, I don't know why. But he made it all real in just minutes."

He turned to put a rather pinning gaze on the bootleg Thorne - considering, thoughtful. "I guess I was looking for that I made something real for him too. That maybe I was just that special."

The unspoken phrase under that though was clear - I wasn't.

elkbones
you could at least buy me a drink before you ******** me up like this

grayseasons

Tiny Trickster


moonjavas

PostPosted: Sun Aug 28, 2016 1:11 pm


Thorne (Masked) | | 25/25 | | Bitchy

It felt strange and electric and suspended, this game of theirs. Time dripped from it, malleable, uncertain, like it didn't exist in this serpentine hall where their voices echoed and drifted. Clashed and crowded the air. Time dripped. Thorne wasn't sure that he liked that. It was a remnant, an aftertaste. Of before, before, before.

There were a lot of things Thorne knew he could break in this world, in this instance, in this hall, in this man.

That was not one of them.

"And that isn't really a reply," Thorne drawled in return, lazy and soft. His eyes dipped, bright beneath the mask. It jangled once more. The golden droplets hung close to Chris's forehead, reflecting a soft spectrum of color across the flowers that adorned his own, across the angry blue of his eyes.

His hands felt restless when he looked too long.

The answer was met with a long, searching look. The adder still slept in the corner of his smile, the cruel tangle of his fingers against the small of his back. He could knife through every memory that he'd gathered with this one man, Before, After, and still feel that empty hollow in the back of his throat.

What do you want?

But Thorne wasn't here to comfort hurt little children. He didn't smile, but he stepped so close that there was a hairs width between them, burning up with heat.

"You?" He echoed, inclining his head so that Chris could see clearly the sharp violet panels of his eyes. "Special? You can't even save yourself from your demons, let alone others."

He stepped past Chris, laughter curling against his tongue.

"You tasted like hope," He answered himself, eyes flicking to the nowhere-space beyond them. The dark and the shadows. "But now you're just a ghost. Are you so stubborn that you cannot do everyone a favor and just disappear? You should know why they forgot you. You should know that it was their choice."

There was a soft exhale, a sigh. Thorne blinked beneath the mask, hands itching, body in the atrophies of reaction. He was wholly himself, but he could taste the aftermath of Before, of his twin. And he was violence, violence, violence.

This was not allowed.

"Truth."


PeanutButterPies
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