containatrocity

[containatrocity]

It's good to hate, isn't it!? Popping veins, Dissonance- Draw and quarter a stranger To feel some blood on your fingers.

#o.musings

[containatrocity]

I want to feel your bones corrode with mine Close to mine Grind against you like I wanna get inside Ooh, it's just the way that you move, honey I don't know what I would do, if you were to refuse my love Am I alone here? Am I alone here? I've waited all this time, just to let you know How I feel, who I am, what I need, what I need Oh, and if you've got a thing for control You've got me, you've got me...

#a.music #>> #<< #Look away. #Spotify

[containatrocity]

"God Forbid I change my mind? Or have a mind at all." Absinthe hisses, flicking ash from the tip of their cigarette and leaning more firmly against the wall behind them- Familiar fingers graze against him through well-worn leather. The tattoos that flag Absinthe as property to the very people who sent Raziel here a single layer away. Perhaps, in that way, Absinthe can understand. He'd been rebellious, sure, shirking at minimum the vow of celibacy he'd taken as little more than a boy to seek pleasure in others- in Raziel, when they'd worked together all those years ago. But the version of Absinthe that needed anything to feel like a human instead of a tool had died years ago- had only recently elected to haunt them like a ghost.

"Perhaps I've finally worked out that I'm worth more than a hasty fuck amongst the crowded halls of the commune. Perhaps I take issue with those you surround yourself with now. Perhaps I am simply not feeling it- It could be a number of things." His hand turns over, fingertips grazing Raziel's lightly before he lifts them to replace his cigarette- history still lingers. the touch more meaningful than he wants it to be. They'd been two sides of the same coin, once. "I am tired of being an animal, Raziel. The Brotherhood's choke chain has been slack for some time, I've nothing to hunt, no duty to God beyond spreading His word- is it so odd to assume that I might have grown out of what we had in common when I was little more than a blade with a pulse? That despite old habits, I have... tried to learn to be better?" His brows crease. "It is a vice for a reason. Would you prefer me at my worst? Little more than a slobbering hound glutting himself on sex and death?"

Raziel had been preparing for his meeting, leaving the office and locking it before turning and seeing Absinthe through an open door. His lips pursed, recalling how they last parted, and he approached after checking the hands on his watch. He had time.

"You were interested enough the other day," Raziel said absently, running his fingers down the sleeve of Absinthe's jacket. "As much as I would love to see you on your knees again, I'm afraid I have a prior engagement. However, I do believe I'm owed an explanation as to why you ran from me. You wanted it, I know you did. Yet you stopped your most primal instinct. Why? What could've possibly stopped you from indulging in your strongest vice?"

#a.threads #a.raz #a.raz02 #a.event06

[containatrocity]

They've already drawn eyes, scolding the town priest in the street in a hushed voice as Joei tries to embrace her father- Absinthe doesn't want much more attention than this- there's eyes everywhere, and he's not sure anymore which sets are trustworthy. "I will explain, I promise, but I cannot do it here." He knows a place they'll go undisturbed- and perhaps the location will lend further credence to what Absinthe needs to make known. "Come with me. It- It may be best to take Joei to Ondine." He inhales. "She knows I've come to talk to you." There is pain in his face- he wants nothing more than to take his daughter into his arms as she reaches, as Esther soothes her from the upset at not being held the way he always had.

It's a short walk no matter what's decided to where Absinthe seems to see fit to have this conversation- a house tucked in the woods left abandoned since 2013, it's seen a few visitors, mostly teenagers on dares- or the rare desperate too-late-to-get-back overnighter. Absinthe knows this place better than most. It's where he was 'born', after all. Thirteen priests died in the walls of the 'horror house' that night- But one slate left blank made himself anew. He crests the porch slowly, taking in the view from atop weathered wood until Esther joins them.

"First, I want you to know that I did not keep this from you intentionally- not... not forever. Much of what I know now was... only made clear to me after the earthquake. More of it still might be missing." Absinthe leans against one of the supports of the porch, offering one tattooed hand gently to Esther. "It is not because I think any less of you than Ondine that I did not tell you sooner- it is because the more people who know what I'm about to say, the more people that might be in legitimate, prevalent danger. I do not think you are crazy, or stupid, or any less deserving to know- I thought only that I was... protecting you. All of us, really. By just... hoping you would trust me. That was wrong of me. I've made a number of mistakes, lately. Deen wanted to tell you. I begged her not to- you already... struggled with your faith, and with your brother- I didn't want to weigh on you more than I already do."

It's only once he can look them in the eye that Absinthe swallows tightly- and starts to tell Esther the truth. "My name isn't Absinthe Capone. Upon my arrival here, I was Abel Fulci, and my duty, that I served singlemindedly, as it was all I had ever known was to come here, and 'free' Huntsville. I failed. Me, and all twelve of my fellow priests. Most were torn to shreds on this porch one thin door away from me." They turn their offered hand slowly- exposing the puncture scars from his metal canines and blunt human teeth in the flesh between their thumb and forefinger. "I savaged myself and warded the door in blood. Two of us inside. I- I tried to open it. To save someone, anyone- I was attacked by my own companion for doing so."

The heavy thud of a broken table leg against the back of his head- the sensation of what had certainly been his skull cracking. "And with my last fleeting awareness in the moment, I killed him, too. Not for any reason other than he had slighted me- the blood on my hands when I was found here was mine but I am soaked sanguine for my actions- it will never wash off. But... by the time Sunflower's people found me, here... I had forgotten. My trauma locked off everything but my knowledge of scripture and my awareness that- My name started with an A." He pauses. "I do not tell you this for any sort of pity. But that you know the person you love is- only 11 years here. The rest of me is... something worse. And for my sake I hid him away. But... The reason I asked you to... separate yourself. Is that things from that life are starting to slip in. Things that I want nothing more than to keep you from, Esther." He swallows.

"I am a weapon of the Vatican. A sword of His will. I am not supposed to think for myself- much less... have what you and Deen are to me."

Esther genuinely hadn't been trying to locate Absinthe, at least not while they had Joei in their arms. They missed the other more than anything, but also understood the unspoken rule that Joei and Sin couldn't be associated. Even if they didn't understand why. It was only when the toddler exploded in excitement did they realize the mistake they made.

Of course they had a minute. When it came to the person in front of them, Esther would give their very last minute, their last breath, for them. Sometimes they wondered if he even understood that. "Should we...find somewhere else to talk?" they asked, especially since Sin had looked around them for any prying eyes or ears.

Gently gripping Joei's small hand, Esther lowered it from reaching out to Absinthe. They scowled at him. "Yeah, no shit," they seethed. "I hate this Sin. I fucking hate being in the dark. That you and Deen can't trust me to know everything because what? Because I'm not good enough? Smart enough? Too crazy for you?" They couldn't help keeping the hurt out of their voice. Sin had long ago asked them not to ask any questions, so they didn't. That didn't stop the silence from hurting any less.

As Joei started to whimper, Esther kissed her forehead and whispered "sorry baby girl, Mama Esth's just a little mad at Dada." With a sigh they let her down so Joei could run over to her father.

#a.threads #a.esther #a.esther03 #a.event06 #he's got more to say but i'm not making this any fucking longer bro you can WAIT a reply absinthe #if you match me sierra i will savage YOU with MY teeth.

[containatrocity]

Why are you apologizing? Where is Absinthe supposed to start? The distance, the paranoia, he knows its founded- there is no good in what comes from the places that created him- Koda had failed, fled, and was seeking him to save him from the Brotherhood- They weren't part of it, anymore. Maybe Raziel wasn't either. But he was still of their ilk, surely- a need for power and control that if slighted became dangerous. In league with Quinn's beliefs- and the knowledge that the God she might worship is more present here than Absinthe's own... There is danger looming, he wanted nothing more than to protect the people he loves from it- But in his desperation he has deprived them instead, of their friends, of the truth, of being able to tell the truth. It exhausts him, he can't imagine how Deen feels- this is his grand cross to bear- he's pushed it onto them, in turn.

Their lips meet again, longer now, and Absinthe tries to take comfort in the familiar, the taste of them against their lips. "I love you. I miss you." Is managed into the space between. "I- I do not think I was wrong in my concerns, but I have done things that only made things worse for us in my pursuit of ensuring your safety, Esther's safety, Joei's safety- in my desperation to keep the three of you some... esoteric idea of away from harm I... caused it. For that alone I should be apologetic." Their voice breaking makes the cold knife of guilt twist more firmly in his stomach.

It's not much further from the hustle of main street- the remains of a building deemed un-salvageable after the earthquake the shattered backdrop for the rest of this conversation. "I- I know we have not... discussed anything of permanence... at- at least not with me. I know that you and Esther have... each other, and I am comforted to know that there is... stability, for Joei, and someone to call home for the two of you- But I am sick with myself with shame for what feels like I am betraying you- the very thing I chased you from the commune over, so terrified of what they could do I- I nearly found myself in their bed, and-" He winces, stepping back slightly. "I am a poor excuse for a servant of God, and a worse one for a lover. I do not deserve it, but I- I would ask, if I am still worth the trouble, that you hold me solely. That my home ends where you and Esth do.... I- I'll be speaking with them today, too. Telling them the truth. A-all of it. And should they still have any fondness in them for me after seeing the blood on my hands- I- I will be asking them the same. I cannot do this alone, anymore. I don't think Absinthe ever could."

sin's voice sent a shiver up ondine's spine, but it wasn't in a bad way. instead, it was a way that made their skin come alive, the grip on their wrist nearly making them fall to their knees in relief and defeat. they hadn't seen absinthe since their daughter's birthday, holding true to the instructions they'd given them in order to keep their family safe. but that distance only made ondine crave closeness, and as they tugged them into a more secluded space, it didn't take long for deen to wrap themselves around sin. the kiss was soft and brief, and yet somehow it made up for all those months they had to spend apart. but deen wasn't so willing to let sin go just yet, and they made that clear by clinging to them desperately.

"why are you apologizing?" she muttered, her voice soft in that shared space between them. sin's forehead was warm and familiar, and as her fingers traveled to the back of their neck, she couldn't help but let out a soft hum. his presence was slowly filling that absinthe-shaped hole that had formed in her heart the second she'd moved out of the commune, and if this was all she'd be allowed to have for a while, then she planned to take advantage of it. "you've been holding on for longer than any of us wanted. we miss you at home. i miss you, and i'm tired of having to keep pretending that nothing is going wrong." there was a crack in ondine's voice as she spoke, her forehead wrinkling in an attempt to keep her emotions at bay. without another word, she stretched up to catch him in another kiss, though this one lasted longer out of fear that it would be the last for a while.

his suggestion to take a walk had her heart pounding, and without having to say anything, ondine gave a gentle nod of her head. if it meant getting more time with absinthe, she'd do just about anything. "i'm yours for as long as you need me."

#a.threads #a.ondine04 #a.ondine #a.event06

[containatrocity]

"A'right." Rusty smiles as Reggie confirms that he's alright to look around, relaxing into the kiss, propped up on his toes for a moment longer before lowering back to stand flat. "You and Jeconiah, I swear, too goddamn tall." he teases. "Couldn't have been spared a couple inches a' height for me, nah, had t' get greedy." It's easy enough to fall into playful conversation- distraction for both of them from the way Reggie's been feeling lately. But Rusty's not the type to let something rest, not this easily, and he knows that while his boyfriend would prefer to avoid the subject- the weight of his work-life balance being shoved off the edge of a cliff and the grief he's still not grappled with are things Rusty knows might yet completely destroy him.

"You know I'm here to listen whenever y' need me, right?" He offers, softly, as they make their way to the first stall of many. "Soon as you're ready, okay? Don't... don't do that macho shit, where you just cram it down, alright? You didn't let me pull that when I was bent about my eye." He motions to the patch now permanent on the side of his face. "The hurt's still real, even if you can't see it. " He reminds softly, before his gaze shifts to one of the several pottery pieces sat on one of the booths nearby. "Do you think your cat'd be willin' to leave a nice vase alone or does this just look like 'really pretty future chips of broken stuff in th' floor' to you?"

"i know.. i'll look around, i promise." reggie said and gave rusty a smile. there was a point he almost didn't go today, he'd been wanting to spend more and more days inside preferably alone but there was people in his life that wouldn't allow that and of course one of them was rusty. he was grateful for it though, he knows without those people there was a high chance people would just never see him again.

he was staring down at their hands as they walked when the offer was made and if reggie was honest he wasn't feeling up to talking yet. he smiled and kissed him back before answering, "i think finding something would be fun, maybe we could find something for both." he was avoiding the second option hoping rusty wouldn't push that.

#r.reggie #r.reggie11 #r.event06 #r.threads

[containatrocity]

"It is wrong, in a way you can notice, but can't place without the knowledge of where the constellations sit. I wasn't completely sure there was anything quite wrong at all until Ursa Major simply looked... off." it's lovely, despite its troubling subject matter, the crawling unease is blended with a strange sense of awe- but Lex reasons that they've seen plenty of things that elicit those sorts of emotions in Huntsville by now. Even its people had a tendency to be odd... but compelling. He can't find it in himself to blame Odette for her clear nervousness- she'd seemingly spent quite a bit of time considering herself completely insane- He wouldn't have argued with the idea she was at least delusional, had she come to him prior to the discovery of more portals.

"It appears you're still having a hard time being around people, Miss Abbott. I had assumed that maybe your discovery being common knowledge you would feel... vindicated? Validated? Yet you seem to still be in a state of... anxiety, among the public." He steps back slightly, even with the assurance he isn't in her way. "But, to avoid giving any sort of therapy for free- I am sorry to hear you miss home. It's been some time since I've been back in France, I kick myself about insisting so much that I stay close to my work here in America with a surprising regularity, now that I can do nothing about it.- It's easy to take issue with yourself for things you can't change, after all- where is it you're from?"

odette wasn't much for fun or socialising these days. the fear and paranoia of her ordeal had her retreating to the shadows and the safety of her room over at the commune. however, she had promised that she would try to go out more and that was what had brought her to the festival. wandering around the booths, odette paused at one that had a painting that reminded her of the sky back home. a faint reminder of a time less traumatic.

she looked over to see the man "hi" she greeted. she hadn't met him before but she knew of him through other people in town. "no, you're not in my way" she assured him while she fidgeted with the sleeves of her cardigan "it reminds me of back home. i don't remember home completely, but there's this faded memory there of a summer night sky." her eyes boring into the painting like she was trying to trigger the memory "i can see what your saying about the feeling it gives you, it feels like you shouldn't be looking at it but you can't help it"

#l.threads #l.odette01 #l.odette #l.event06

[containatrocity]

"Course not, grab a spot wherever- I'd offer ya a chair, but the only extra one I brought along was Robin's lil lawn chair, Claire's off shoppin' and socializing and Wren's got 'er own booth so I packed a little lighter." The stack of stock boxes behind him likely had been the bulk of what he'd brought along- and knowing Duck, he carried most of them himself, despite the cane propped against the booth beside him. "Now, what's goin' on with ya lately? Last I heard you an' Goldstein were drivin' ol Rust up a wall with yer feudin', and you were havin' a rough go of it."

Tricky settles in, and a number of particularly... substantial reveals spill from the other man's mouth- Duck's not surprised he and James managed to patch it up, despite it all, he knows the both of them are hard to stay mad at- He'll have to pass the good news onto Rusty and Clara that hopefully, things at the station will be somewhat peaceful again. He's also not surprised about the idea of a daughter- He and Tricky were kin of the same kind of cloth, end of day, and Duck was only somewhat certain he'd only ever had the three children. "Twenty two, huh? Were barely older than a boy when she was born then- I don't think she'll hold that against ya, Trick." He jabs at his love life, and Duck lets out a short laugh. "Man, you're hard on yourself a lot, you know that? You got a lot to offer some lucky somebody, once ya piece your shit together. And people worth that kinda offer will wait for you to get that way- or help you there." he turns only for long enough to make another sale, turning back a moment later. "So then, what's the little lady's name, I run into 'er yet?"

"Hey, Mal," Tricky paused, deciding to step behind the booth to catch up. Tricky hadn't really been particularly sociable lately, busy with a few different things, and he didn't really want to disrupt the peace and quiet of anyone else's life. "It's.... mind if I sit?" He took a deep breath, settling down onto the ground next to the only other person he would consider family outside of Addison.

"It's been really crazy. James and I made up - I admitted how much I fucked up. I have a daughter, apparently. So she's stuck her now. She's twenty two and her mom either didn't want to get in touch with me or because my name is pretty common, she couldn't find me. My love life, as always, is in shambles. But I'm slowly trying to piece it back together. For the sake of my daughter. I don't want her to see that I'm such a fucking mess."

#d.threads #d.tricky #d.tricky02 #d.event06

[containatrocity]

"Ah, no, this is a dress shirt, and a bunch of straps of mysterious origin that I was told would 'work' and who am I to question the sage knowledge of both the staff at the boutique and a young man who up until recently lived in a van he'd dressed up like a stegosaurus? The bedsheet might have been cheaper." He laughs, smile shifting just a little wider as Bri sets a kiss against his cheek. "Ah, well, plenty more time to end up at things like this in a sheet ghost costume, afraid this time we're going with... extraneous straps and a weirdly buttoned dress shirt." He's not sure he understands any of it- he's always been pretty small-town minded, after all.

"You go to a lot of these fancy arthouse things while you were like, performin?" He questions, the short walk to Minnie's enough time to talk for a little bit before they're surrounded by the rest of the townsfolk, the kind of momentary privacy he's always appreciated. "I'm glad you're feeling better, you know. I'm more than happy to occupy all your time, or just sit around at my place together, but you- well, you're somethin' worth showin' off. Always have been. Deserve t' get out there, and hey, if you're willin' to be stuck to me while doing it? Even better."

"It means a lot." She slipped her hand around his arm, squeezing it gently before leaning in to kiss his cheek. "I've not been feeling myself recently and this had been the first time in a long time I've had the energy to actually get out and socialise so thank you for coming with me." Briana smiled softly up at him feeling her own bundle of butterflies launch into action when their gaze met his.

"For what it's worth, you could have shown up as a sheet ghost and I'd still think you look good." She teased, smiling just a little, a slight sparkle in her eyes. "Though I'm wondering if it's just the sheet you're wearing since you apparently had such a hard time picking an outfit."

#v.threads #v.bri #v.bri06 #v.event06

[containatrocity]

"Yeah, pretty sure it's made by somebody here in town with motor oil in their bathtub." He takes the drink smoothly, taking a long, slow swallow as he tries in vain to try and puzzle out where Poppy looks so... Oddly familiar, from. "But, it's cheap and it gets me drunk, so we ain't gonna complain too hard." She questions what brand of person he's referring to- October laughs. "Little lady, I can sense the overbearin' pep radiating off of you from a room away, it's the kinda suffocating optimism I'm used to seein' in LA hopefuls, not little blondes trapped 'ere in Huntsville. Figured this place just broke spirits immediately upon arrival so this..." He motions vaguely with his free hand, the heavy black fur of the nicer coat he's worn today making him look even larger than he already is. "Is just catchin' me off guard. That, and I am gettin' the worst sense of Deja Vu lookin' at you." It pings an odd memory at the back of his mind, something 25 years and rampant drug abuse has smudged watercolor and blurry.

"Where on earth 're my manners. I'm October." He introduces. "Your parents were probably way more interested in my doings than you ever would have been." He jokes.

Poppy gave a look down at the drink that had been placed in front of her. She brought it up to her nose and took a sniff, which lead to a very visible reaction. "Oh yeah, that's strong" she moved her arm up to cover her mouth as she coughed, vampire cough style. "What brand is that?" she asked, holding the drink out to him.

#o.threads #o.poppy #o.poppy01 #o.event06

[containatrocity]

"First and foremost, get used to not knowing anything, and not expecting Raziel to give you a straight answer. Or you any answers at all. Safety, what we can do, is all thanks to our hierarchy, and what needs to be known by anybody lower in it is told to them- And what needs to be told to anybody outside of it is told to them, as well. Which, that last bit is why they've got me watching you. Until we know you won't go running your mouth for anything stupid, you require a little oversight. Regrettably I am the most skilled oversight we have." He taps ash from his cigarette, as Hunter declares that he's just as much of a celebrity as October.

"You're a cheap imitation of the golden era, kid. I've got awards and accolades, and where you whine and capitulate to the masses when they 'cancel' you, I was making headlines in tabloids, ink to page, news worthy instead a' fits people throw on their blogs." He laughs, the sound low. "The shit I got up to when I was your age would incinerate a career nowadays. It got me triple platinum." Hunter continues to bitch, and October continues to smoke. "I never said you weren't allowed to look around, boy, just that I'm not gonna stand here and let ya torpedo everything Quinn's worked hard to build by running your mouth. You're the opposite of an appealin' recruitment strategy." he rolls his eyes. "Which means maybe I should at least let you off the kid leash long enough to ensure some people never see the light."

It had seemed fun to begin with but Hunter was already beginning to regret the situation he had now found himself in. Sure, this new set of people were giving him this weird level of safety he hadn’t felt in a while, but now he was being watched, babysat as October had decided to call it, and the term made Hunter audibly groan despite the order to remain silent. Sat by Octobers side, head lolled back with his eyes rolled back even further, he managed the thirty seconds of silence, and then some, doing what he figured was the polite thing by letting October speak, and ask his questions, be them rhetorical or not, he wasn’t going to miss a chance to fucking speak again.

“I don’t fucking know what an echelon is, but I’m as celebrity as you fucking get these days. I just do whatever I want, film it, people watch it and that gets me paid. It’s fucking easy man, even someone like you could do it.” He sighed again, slumping back onto his seat, eyes scanning the room for Max, or Kirby, or Liam. Hell, he’d take Jax or Cyan right now rather than sat here being told not to do anything. “Why the fuck am I even being tethered to you anyway? I wanna go and enjoy whatever this shit is but noooooo I have to sit here and breathe in your fucking armpit stink and not fucking move or speak for…reasons that Raz ain’t fucking telling us?!”

#o.threads #o.hunter #o.hunter01 #o.event06

[containatrocity]

"I'll see ya around- don't be a stranger!" He's in a particularly pleasant mood today, given the way he calls behind his previous customer, grabbing his cane from beside the table and making the short limp to the bins behind him containing the stock he couldn't quite fit on the booth. He's aware of another shadow approaching over his shoulder as he pulls a small stack of the firestarter bracelets he'd made for the event from their box. "Be with ya in just a second-" He insists, turning back around- before realizing exactly who it is paying him a visit. "Well well, if it ain't Lucy- how are you doin', darlin?" He pauses as she wordlessly sits a carving on his table- his namesake, of course- a Mallard duck.

"Why- Lucy this is incredible, kiddo." His tone softens, fond, instead of simply friendly as he seats himself again and takes the carving to look it over. "You know I still got your very first one in my work studio in the basement at th' house, right next to Wrenny and Robin's first carvin's too. This here's leaps and bounds better than where you started- You know what, I'm gonna put this'n on my desk at work." He's got enough keepsakes there already- from his kids, old sticky notes with Tyler's handwriting fading stuck to the monitor of his computer- notes from Hobbes and the other rangers he's reluctant to throw away- he's sure, though, he can find a place for something of Lucy's. "You enjoyin' yourself today?" He questions, placing the carving carefully on the corner of his table behind his mug.

where: duck's booth who: duck romero (@containatrocity )

Lucy made her way over to Duck's booth, carving in hand. She'd been practicing to perfect her work and this time she was determined to give him a carving worthy of all the love and care he'd shown her and even Roman since the first time she'd given him a duck over a year ago. It was strange to think that so much had happened since then.

Without a word, they set the carving in front of Duck, waiting for his reaction and hoping it was a positive one.

#d.threads #d.lucy #d.lucy04 #d.event06

[containatrocity]

Much like any other event they tend to put on in town, Lex's attendance seems largely... begrudging, preferring to be little more than an observer- it's easier to deal with the constant death if he regarded most everyone as a case study, and this little... art fair was no exception. The people of Huntsville were closer to an ant farm than people of their own in his eyes- and it was easier to be divorced from it- it hadn't stopped him from combing the booths, though, as 'separated' as he wanted to remain, it was always nice to spice up the way things looked at home, if anything. He's looking at a painting of the strange constellations that dot the sky above at one of the booths when he notices someone stood alongside him- glancing slightly to see who it might be.

"Ah. Miss Abbott." They've not met- but Lex is aware of her, as he is, once again, with everyone. She'd assumed herself crazy for a time, before the portals dotting town became common knowledge- he can't imagine being proven right was much of a salve on her suffering. "My apologies, am I in your way?" They question, lifting the prosthetic of their arm to adjust the collar of his dress shirt. "I was... simply taking in this painting- it isn't so jarring when it's just something I've barely seen through the windows. this just feels... off." in a way that's oddly... appealing.

@odette-abbott

#l.threads #l.odette #l.odette01 #l.event06

[containatrocity]

"You know, I feel like it aught to be a testament t' how much I like you that I'm willing to endure this whole... Ball thing." Ziggy chuckles, adjusting the straps of the decor on his suit. "Especially when apparently my old trusty suit and tie isn't the 'right way' to dress for it." It's good natured ribbing, and as he offers his arm to Bri, he takes the time to take her in. "God. been a long time since I took you to any sort of dance, huh?" It had to have been his senior prom, just before things got... complicated. "Granted, the outfits? Way different. similar amount of black and tulle, And if I'm rememberin' correctly, most everybody was secretly wearin' converse underneath their dresses so we could pretend we really didn't give a shit about dressing nice, despite the fact that, much like today, I stood in my bedroom wondering if you'd accept 'sheet ghost' as an outfit so I wouldn't have to accidentally embarrass myself."

It's easier, now, to reminisce on things when they were young- knowing that perhaps in another time, maybe, just maybe, he and Bri never fell apart the way they did. Knowing Nattie's safe (relatively, it was Huntsville, after all.) But it doesn't do anything to quiet the nerves- and the vague butterflies. "you... you look real good, Sparkplug. Gonna get both of us all kinds of jealous looks tonight."

@violenttempest

#v.bri #v.threads #v.bri06 #v.event06

[containatrocity]

It's odd, to be suddenly surrounded by something that feels so much like home, but unable to identify himself with it. Face half-painted like a mechanical skull and a wild, asymetrical suit dotted with mirrors and salvaged computer chips, it almost feels like one of the LA parties he used to frequent, down to the undertow of egos just barely perceptible- unless you'd spent years being dragged around in those circles.

And yet, he feels more lost than he has for a while, stood here holding a bottle of liquor, waiting for Sissy to come back from talking with friends they don't have in common. He should be the life of the party- he used to be, a socialite like his mother, albeit one mired in vices far worse- but instead all he can think about, all he's ever managed to think about, in groups like this, after that day in the gym.

someone here is a murderer. Maybe several people. And you are not safe.

He jumps, terrified, suddenly, and whirls as someone speaks behind him. "Wh-What- oh. Hey, Sorry, Cyrus, scared the shit out of me... what uh, what's up?"

@darkestxdreams

#c.threads #c.cyrus #c.cyrus01 #c.event06

[containatrocity]

"Come on, handsome... Ain't no harm in at least lookin' around." Rusty insists gently, fingers laced in Reggie's and a nudge of the elbow clearly intended to encourage him to at least... try, to enjoy himself, today. He's not blind to the way Reggie's been hurting, lately. Knows that with Jessie expecting- and perhaps even Sissy having GiGi- there's a lot weighing on him, the kind of loss you don't get over. Rusty likes to pretend he gets it- he lost Lee, after all- but here, with his hand in another man's it's not the same- He'd managed, after time and effort- to find somewhere different- but happy, just the same.

Reggie aches. Rusty can't fix it- and doesn't want to pretend he knows how to. Hopes at the least- he knows he's there for him. "Why don't we poke around? See if there's not somethin' worth puttin' up on the wall in your place- or somethin' to fancy up that desk of yours, once you get back to work." the offer's half-hearted. concern's biting at him, still. He leans up, steals a kiss gently. "Or we can sit down a minute? I'll talk t' Ms. O'Grady and get you somethin' to snack on, and we can talk. About what's gnawin' on you these days?"

@ghostsbrokenbyfairytales

#r.threads #r.reggie11 #r.reggie #r.event06

[containatrocity]

"Robin! Sit yer ass down." He's not even watching his son today, the elementary schooler instead zipping between the booths belonging to Wren and her bandmates 'helping' make sales in his own... special way. Duck settles back into his seat, as Robin plants himself at the side of G's booth obediently, Mal shaking his head and turning back to his own work before a familiar face passes by. "Well well, finally decided to grace us with your presence outside a' working hours?" He smiles, picking up the coffee mug beside himself smoothly. "How you keepin' on, Trick?"

Mal's been busy, and he'll never hold it against Tricky that they've not had the time to talk- between being back to work in his full capacity, the orchard in full swing of planting and flowering season and his alarmingly stable romantic life- he's been pretty happy to take the back seat to a lot of things- embrace the peace while he has it- and for Duck, that's being busy. But Tricky's still a brother in arms- a friend he's never once taken for granted. and it's always nice to catch up.

@backmaskcd

#d.threads #d.tricky #d.tricky02 #d.event06