skav is free for a race if anyone is in need of interaction ;D
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Dion,
AlteredTundra
Status
Recent Statuses
6 yrs ago
Current
rpg’s biggest issue? the gender binary
2
likes
6 yrs ago
im a fool in fool clothes
2
likes
6 yrs ago
pussi
6 yrs ago
the nyc commute grind reveals why adults pass out at 9 pm daily
4
likes
6 yrs ago
its a dick suck dick world ya know
7
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Most Recent Posts
Emotional Anorexia
Lonely Boy
Big Houses
Marigold
Magic
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☄ ☄ ☄ Mental Magic | Emotional Magic ☄ ☄ ☄
▲ Protective
▲ Loyal
▲ Caring
◯ Lonesome
▼ Fragile
▼ Blunt
▼ Truculent
Whenever communion rolled around during Sunday morning Mass, Skav found himself muttering the same old prayer over and over again– please God, hear me, hear me. Tell me who I am. Forgive me for what I've done. Hear me, hear me. Whenever they accepted the host and shook their head to the wine, their fingers fumbled and folded with each other. Whenever they walked back to their pew, head hung low in humbleness, they were met with curious of frightened eyes. Of course, that should be a generally normal reaction, seeing as Skav still wears their crow mask even in holy spaces such as this, but still it was something to notice every week. Most were not yet used to the feathers or the sinful eyes of the mask, even after most had experienced it for countless months now. People, Skav had decided years ago, are just simply too hard to please.
All of them were sinners, sinners, sinners.
So, they sat alone and observed in their pew, hands folded neatly on their lap as the general hum of movement continued on through the ringing of gold bells and the quiet choral hymns. Their tongue had gone dry after accepting the bread, sticking to the roof easily, irritatingly, but despite such displeasure Skav felt a need to appreciate it. At least this would be something to pay attention to while all the elderly shambled up to accept their own blessing. They focused on shifting their neck and moving their tongue, tasting desert and dirt and the impression of flesh, licking life back into their teeth and gums. Skav, once again, regretted not accepting the wine. The fake, vile tasting drink would have brought him relief from the dryness that was Christ, but Skav knew they shouldn't rely on even the suggestion of alcohol while trying to rid himself of sins.
The last elderly woman shambled off down the left side of the pews, slow and serene, and Skav recognized her as one of the few who actually paid no heed to their mask. She was a sweet woman, someone who felt the need to talk and talk and talk on and on and on about every little thing that was going on in her life. Skav hated getting caught in her web of social interaction, but they found amusement in catching others dealing with her rambling. Skav's shoulders rose and fell, an action of simple contentment, and their head turned back to altar.
The last hymn was familiar and grounding. Skav sang along quietly, and again prayed– please God, tell me you're hearing me– until the priest and altar boys were escorted out of the sanctuary and Skav was free to stand and stretch with the rest of the worshipers. They already heard the whispers as their head bent and snapped to relieve some morning tension, the hushed, cruel thoughts that spurred when those foolish few believed that once the ceremonies were concluded God wasn't watching anymore. Skav let their mask skim the crowd before their own eyes, just to note the new reactions, and they felt the cruelest of smiles form beneath the feathers and latex and glass. Sinners, sinners, sinners. The only one allowed to judge Skav was the Lord currently; nothing uttered from a human mouth would sway their stance.
Skav waited patiently as most of the church goers cleared out to their cars, hands idly folding to and fro within each other. The black gloves hiding away their skin were growing unbearably warm, but Skav felt uncomfortable showing even the slightest strip of flesh while still in the sanctuary. The bruises were still fresh. The fight still left impressionable memories in their mind. It was all evidence against them. Sinner, sinner, sinner. Skav shifted idly along with the stragglers, tall and noteworthy, slow and serene. Now that Mass was over Skav could feel the ache of his bones, calling for the road. They wanted to sin so soon after being forgiven– what an addict they must be! The light of the morning was welcoming them, threatening them to shed their outer skin in favor of bruises and tattoos and scars fit for a criminal (a sinner), and Skav pressed through the rest of the crowd, thirsting for the outdoors, thirsting for a sin or two.
Everyone in that sanctuary was a hungry, raving sinner, but Skav had been starving for longer.
"Oh, babe, did you miss me?" It had only taken Skav a five second strive to reach their familiar, glistening Camaro, and it took even less time for them to lean over and whisper sweet nothings into its interior, "I missed ya. Missed ya so much. Now, let's go for the ride of your life~." Skav felt more stares on their back, more whispers. More sinners. With a huff they popped open the door and sank into the roasting interior of The Qrow, grunting as fire bore from the leather of the wheel and the buckle on the seat belt, but nonetheless they settled down and tore open the windows and breathed for the first time all day. One could only handle the oppressive smell of incense and candles for so long. Skav tasted the faintest memory of Christ on their tongue as the engine revved under their finger tips, and then everything burst into a kaleidoscope of life. The Qrow smelled of summer when they first pulled it open, and now, as it roared over the mumble of sinners and worshipers alike, it smelled of gasoline and sex and possibility.
Someone had flipped Skav off as they revved the engine further, but they could care less. First, the mask ruined most of their vision thus making the action barely notable, and finally, Skav had no reason to feel bashful over their loud car and louder appearance. They returned the gesture easily with one hand while the other turned up the radio, allowing a pounding synthesizer to eat up whatever quiet was left in the parking lot, and then the gloves were off and the gears were shifted and Skav was peeling out of their spot and onto the open road of the city. Everything was fire and electricity, a storm waiting to happen. Skav hollered over their cassette and engine as they skimmed round a corner and started off towards the more open highways, ready to speed and race and sin till the sun was swallowed and the day was night.
Skav was starving.
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Ashley pouted when Winter pecked his nose, eyebrows raising as he realized, belatedly, that his plan to lounge in bed all day was quickly uprooting itself. With an exasperated sigh, Ash buried his face into Winter's chest. He inhaled first before saying anything else, breathing in the scent of coffee and sugar and sex, and then flipped over onto his back to exclaim, "Fine, fine! Go be a successful adult already!" The sheets that curled around his legs hung low, showing off the wide-set V of his hips and the barely-visible hair that curled from his naval down, and Ash couldn't care less about the chill now. He just wanted to be asleep again, lazy and free. He just wanted to sit in this room that wasn't his and be fine with that. He just wanted everything worth working towards to fade away.
The buzz of his phone reminded Ashley, sadly, that there was indeed a life for him outside of Winter's loft. He didn't move immediately. There was a spell placed on him, again, that kept him pressed into the mattress with his hand full of Winter's and his mind full of morning mist. Sleep would welcome him, more so then a steady job. Ash couldn't help but feel his calluses rub against the soft flesh of his partner's hand, couldn't help but remember how he got them, couldn't help but know that if he would be able to stay this carefree if he went back to his old life.
Flash, crack, bang.
Ashley slipped his fingers free of Winter's when he felt his palms grow clammy with anxiety. The phone had gone silent after two more buzzes, and from his spot on the bed he could see three segmented messages gleam out on the cracked screen. With a grunt he sat up again, reaching over to unlock the nasty little device and skim the words sent to him by one Michael Wilde. Job offers rested between his calloused hands now, two possible jobs-- a fashion magazine wished to use his face for some organic makeup brand advertisement, and another commercial offer wished to dress him up in a new designer's label. Both were well over the amount of money he would be making back at his old haunts.
Ash sighed and glanced back at Winter, eyeing his almost cautiously. He trusted this man's word more than his own, especially when it came to business matters. Mike hadn't said anything about choosing one or the other, but still Ashley assumed he could have to favor an option in the end. Winter definitely had a better eye for jobs. Ashley shifted back onto the bed, legs tumbling beneath the sheets noisily.
"Got two job offers currently-- I think. It's still a bit too early to read." He settled back down onto the bed, placing his phone screen-up onto Winter's chest, "One of 'em wants me modeling makeup, huh? Do you think I'd make a pretty drag queen?" Ash pursed his lips for a moment, turning to lay on his side, and then his mouth open to a wide smile and his eyes glittered mischievously. His hands, however, fumbled with each other by Ash's stomach. He pinched the callouses on his fingers and dragged hard flesh across his sweaty palms, forming a rather quiet shuffling noise of skin against skin. It was his anxious habit. Everyone had one, right? Some people chewed on their hair, or picked their cuticles, or bit their lip. Ashley twisted himself. Wound tighter and tighter mentally until his fingers were red from strain and bunched nerves.
He had no reason to be anxious. Ash tilted his head until he could easily see the shape of Winter's jaw, and then he said, "Which offer do you think suits me best?"
Emotional Anorexia
Magic
Willow Tree March
Marigold
Lonely Boy
▀ ▄ ▀ ▄ ▀ ▄ ▀ ▄ ▀ ▄ ▀ ▄ ▀ ▄ ▀ ▄ ▀ ▄ ▀ ▄ ▀ ▄ ▀ ▄ ▀ ▄ ▀
☄ ☄ ☄ Mental Magic | Emotional Magic ☄ ☄ ☄
▲ Protective
▲ Loyal
▲ Caring
◯ Lonesome
▼ Fragile
▼ Blunt
▼ Truculent
The!!!! Prettiest!!!! Boy in Town!!!!! In a school full of delinquents it's almost rare to see such fear but he's so cute and terrified and Perri just wants to stab him in the stomach so bad--
DO N T DO THAT PERRI DO NOT
LETS TALK RELATIONS.
So all females r gonna have an enemy symbol next to their names regardless because Robin is frightened of all of them but besides that,,, who wants to talk relations with me ;D
Robin Lowe
Robin observed the crowd, as he so often did, and chuckled to himself.
They were all the same, every year. Every single knew child stood in wait for direction and every returning soul ambled along to their posts, ready for another year of Hell. It was a fun passed time, watching confused or apathetic faces shift, especially when his collar was kicked in and he was unable to greet anyone or draw anything without being blurred and bleeped like some kind of indecent act on the TV. His eyes skipped across familiar and unfamiliar faces as he crumbled paper in his fist and pressed his back against a rough tree, feeling grounded by the splinters that pricked through his uniform. He chuckled again, tongue flicking out to wet his lips as he stared idly at a certain gathering of children.
They were all newbies, he could tell by the curious curve of their brow and shifting of their hands. One of them looked about his age, sixteen, and she was folding her hands over and over as if trying to start a fire without anything to catch it. She said something quietly to the boy on her left (?a brother?) and the boy sighed and turned towards the gate. His gaze was forlorn. How pretty. Robin followed his gaze for a moment and then returned to staring.
Another game he liked to play was "Guess the Freak", and it was best done at the beginning of the year, where new meat remained foreign and unknown in his mind's eye. The girl and the boy seemed painfully average (and related. Robin noticed their shared noses and pale hair), but the collars around their neck signified their need for punishment. Robin touched his own collar and muttered a vivid swear weird. A harsh beep emitted just in time to cancel the hideous waste of vocabulary, and Robin winced as he saw a few eyes turn his way, curious and new. He returned his stare to the two possible siblings, ignore the whispers and gazes, and watched. He watched and watched and watched until the girl did something of note. She ran her finger along the inside of the choker. Something sparked. His mind screamed lightning freak! and, just as she attempted whatever she wanted to do, a minimal shock of electricity burst from her collar. She straightened and drew her finger away, babbling suddenly and quickly to her brother. And her brother, confused, placed a hand to his own collar and gulped.
They discovered a restraint. Robin discovered a new girl to avoid.
He eventually grew tired of the view and sighed, eyes turning down to stare idly at the blurry, scribble-picture of what would have been a rad-looking snake if not for his own restraint. The blur was impossible to see through. Stupid, stupid school. Robin let his head fall back hard against the splintering. And, with narrowed eyes, he wondered where the few kids he knew well were hiding.
Ok shhhhh that was mostly done on m phone I'll fix up the tags and color later
Location: Motel Room > Kitchen
Interacting With: Jay @McHaggis, Mia, Andy @Roosan
Mentions of: Cody, Malcolm, Tish
"Looks more like a Kevin to me, Tish!"
The other girl was gone before Glo could get a reaction, and her meager smile shifted and fell as words met the back of her head. Gloria fought an exasperated sigh as the plans of playing it safe and staying in seemed to fall through. Of course she should have expected this. Teenagers were teenagers no matter the circumstances, and keeping them all in would result in a hideous case of cabin fever, spread around six bodies. She shifted through the crowd carefully, reaching for her bag again to rip her photo album from the darkness. She couldn't think, so she needed something to curb her attention, keep her thinking. Her mind rolled thoughtlessly, flipping through various plots and plans as she leafed through the glossy pages of her album. Memories from the past few weeks smiled up at her, and the warmth of positive energy warmed her fingertips and her attention returned to the others. Plots, plans, plots, plans.
Gloria knew it was dangerous to step out in a large group, but it would probably be even more thoughtless to let them rot away behind a motel door. She closed the photo album and her eyes, sighing. These weren't little kids she was dealing with, her mind whispered, everyone was old enough to care for themselves. They needed freedom; fresh air and leg room. They needed to not be in fear of being found, because that worrying thought could be responsible for killing all of them if they dwelled on it for too long.
Her head was swimming and she felt a pang of guilt and pity for poor Jay, who probably had to sit and bath in her whirring brain waves. Gloria stood again and turned to the others, hands pressing hard into her hips, so much so that she felt bruises spring from her own finger tips. The regular, slight flash of magic she felt flipped once, twice over her, and then she smiled. Her legs felt gelled already from under use, and as Jay's sudden interest in heading out to a mall or a store came into light she pointed dramatically his way and nodded. "Jay-Jay's got a good idea, and even though I said we should do something 'safe' earlier..." Her hips swiveled, and her head fell back to stare at Andy with dubious, curious eyes, "It's probably best to not keep everyone locked up in here."
The motel room seemed to groan around her words after that. Her eyes turned to the bathroom for a moment before turning to Mia, gaze hard and furious. She continued on idly, "Cabin fever is real, as evident by lovely Miss Mia over here, and some fresh air never hurt anyone." She pressed back against a wall, hands crossing over her chest casually. She let her eyes settle on Cody, and then Malcolm, taking into account each teen's way of handling life and stressful situations, remembering each bad thing that could happen if all of them stepped out into the world, and then she purred, "Of course, if some people want to stay in they're free too-- but going for a walk or some shit wouldn't be too bad." As long as we stay inconspicuous. Glo lifted a finger to point at Andy, much like a college professor who was calling on a or, unsuspecting student to answer a question, and shot him a surprisingly nervous grin. Her face was hot as she realized she had rambled on too easily.
"You got final call, though, chico. What say you?"
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