[PRP] Oh ******** no (Shiloh & Preacher)

[Melancholies]

Shiloh was pretty good at bike riding. He could do the stunts, used to avidly follow BMX shenanigans, ate s**t plenty of times trying to copy his idols. While he was busy with a pair of handle bars, his brother had picked up the skateboard, and while Shiloh was quick to defend how cool bikes were, he had to admit that longboarding had one hell of a charm. Sure, he knew how to keep his balance well enough on one, but he wasn't... efficient by any stretch of the imagination.

He ended up in Otherworld one cloudy afternoon, and it was perfect. He wasn't about to let someone in the real world watch him undoubtedly bust his a** every other second. Not only would it be utterly humiliating, but his plants would start blooming out of his scrapes and gashes, and that wasn't really good for someone who was trying to hide his magic from the general populace. No way they'd let him do social work if that s**t got out.

Eat s**t take number 4: Shiloh was currently sitting on the curb with an overturned skateboard next to him as he fussed furiously with his knuckles. He wasn't mad at least. Only way he'd ever learn was through working at it, and blood never bothered him.

The Semblance of Unity

 

[The Semblance of Unity]

Preacher was beginning to kind of hate getting yanked into bullshit land. She'd gone to the bathroom at work and, coming back, been whooshed away. Now would be a good time to start wondering about time here versus time in the 'real' world, she supposed, kicking a rock.

Looking up, she froze. It was ******** mcwereface. Preacher felt a little guilty for punching him, so she continued to inch closer to him. Maybe she should say sorry? "Hey!" she called out. "Ya face looks better now!" There. Close enough.

melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

The skin on his knuckles was starting to populate tiny little buds. Thankfully it was making the scrapes heal much faster. He tensed at the weird, unfamiliar voice.

"Huh?" Was his eloquent response as he looked up, squinting at Preacher. Nope, definitely didn't know her. "My face? The ******** you talking about?" He flexed his injured hand, the buds sloughing off to reveal newly healed skin underneath.

The Semblance of Unity

 

[The Semblance of Unity]

Her eyebrows arched and she flipped her ponytail over her shoulder. "Ya face, ya nose, my fist." Apparently, Preacher hadn't made as much of an impression as she'd feared. She wondered why he was skateboarding in bullshit land.

Her eyes wandered, choosing instead to stare at a nearby telephone pole. "Sorry," she mumbled.

melacholies

 

[Melancholies]

Shiloh wasn't very smart nor was he very astute, but something clicked in his brain regardless. Here was someone apologizing to him for hitting him in the face, in the nose, despite him not knowing...

...maybe because it wasn't him. Maybe because it was someone who looked like him. Someone who was his twin brother with a giant a** bruise on his face.

The look on Shiloh's face was caught between bewilderment and hostility as he quickly rose to his feet. "You." His eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Your fist 'n my face, huh? You moonwalker that hit my ********' brother?"

The Semblance of Unity

 

[The Semblance of Unity]

For a second, Preacher rather looked like a deer caught in the headlight of a car, if Shiloh was the car. Oh ******** s**t on a c**k waffle. This wasn't the were. Preacher suddenly decided she hated identical twins. ******** them. Here she'd worked up the gumption to go and apologize and it wasn't even the right ********' blonde guy. God damn it.

"Well, I was tryin' to apologize. I didn't know 'e had a doppelganger."

melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

"Did you know anything about him when you smashed him between the eyes?" He huffed right back. It had been a surprising amount of time since he was so... outwardly hostile with someone. He almost hated to admit that he liked the adrenaline rush. Jamie would be so pissed. Still, at least he had enough sense to stew, hold off, wait a hot second for an explanation (and god it better be a damn good one).

"The hell you even get off wailin' on people like that anyway?" He folded his arms to keep them from swinging, even though his nerves were itching at this point. "I'd give you some credit if he was bein' a snappy d**k, but he said he didn't do anything and I believe he dumb a**."

The Semblance of Unity

 

[The Semblance of Unity]

The more she listened to Shiloh, the more she started seeing red. No one, not a ******** single soul would ever understand that she hated the pack touch, that it made her panic and do anything to get it to stop.

"'Course I didn't ********' know 'im from Adam!" If she had known Oliver, Preacher never would have offered her hand to him. "He touched me." That she liked fighting was beside the point, here - she didn't usually picks fights for no goddamn reason. Okay, maybe she did, but not here, not since moving to Ashdown.

melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

"Touched you how." He pressed as he took another step forward, his arms still decidedly crossed. "'Cause I doubt he was tryin' to hurt you."

He stopped, wanting to be intimidating but not enough to provoke something without getting all the motives out. "He said you flipped out over the weird touch thing?"

The Semblance of Unity

 

[The Semblance of Unity]

Shiloh stepped forward and her eyes narrowed. "Are you a moonwalker, too?" Preacher wasn't about to give him information he could use against without making sure he couldn't.

melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

Shiloh snorted. "Did you hear about the ball?" Most people had, but he supposed he'd give her the benefit of the doubt. "You wanna touch me and find out?" Dangerous, Beaumont.

"I'm as noble as they come." He said with a shrug. "Just 'cause my brother's one and I'm dating one doesn't mean I'm one too." Though he supposed it did incriminate him in the sense that it made him seem like he was super into, like, furries or something. Preacher wouldn't be the first moonwaker to dislike him he supposed. "But I guess that all depends on how much you believe me, too."

The Semblance of Unity

 

[The Semblance of Unity]

"Ball? Uh, basket ball?" Did he... did he wanna smoke her on the court? Was this a shirt joke? Her frown grew heavier. "I don't wanna ********' touch you, ya goddamn pervert." Preacher took a deep breath and reminded herself that fighting was bad, fighting was a last resort.

"Look, I just don't like moonwalkers n' their janky touch bullshit, okay. I think I'm allowed that."

melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

"The Fae dance sacrifice bullshit." He waved his hand. "It's neither here nor there, ******** it. It sucked. I don't want you to touch me either, Jesus." He rolled his eyes, "Not like that."

"Anyway, I don't really, like, care." He sighed, his arms unfolding, one scratching the back of his head. "You don't like it, fine, it's whatever. I don't even really know what it feels like, so I can't say anything, not my place, happy?" He huffed. "All I wanna know is why you whacked my brother in the face. Because of the touch thing? I doubt he knew you were one either."

The Semblance of Unity

 

[The Semblance of Unity]

"Well, I ain't know s**t about it anyway, so..." She shrugged. It was kind of infuriating that no matter how hard she tried to be nosy, tried to find s**t out, she came up empty-handed. Mercer'd probably joke and tell her she wasn't a detective. But goddammit, it sucked to be in the dark.

Preacher sighed. "I whacked him 'cause of the touch. 'Cause he couldn't let go fast enough, 'cause no one ever ********' understands how awful it is. No one." As she voice, her voice got tenser and tenser. "You ever been forced to have a family? No, I bet tha ******** not." She'd tugged her thick ponytail over one shoulder and combed through it with her fingers in fidgety movements.

melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

He listened quietly. "Still don't think that's a good reason to whack him." He sighed. "Ollie didn't mean to make you feel awkward. Don't gotta be a b***h about it."

Still though, he wavered a little. "Families ******** suck." He said after a while. "I love Oliver 'cause he's my brother, but he's the only good thing that ever came out of our ********' family. I never said you had to like the ******** touch." He shrugged, "Hell, I probably wouldn't like that s**t with strangers either. Not family." He had Jamie and his brother and that was enough family for him. Sure he was open on the friends account now, but family made him think of his Dad, of his Mom, and that was no ******** good.

"Look." He sighed, "Can you at least ******** apologize to him? I don't wanna wheel off punching you in the face too 'cause it'll make my boyfriend cry if he learns I've been getting into fights again. Which," he warned, "My boyfriend is a moonwalker too. You touch his a** too and it ain't gonna be pretty, I don't give a ******** if it's an accident."

The Semblance of Unity