* DOOMED JESTER !

>look inside

✒️ ┋ Honestly, he'd expected more pushback—in either the affirmative or the negative. Some wild-hearted insistence that he was the more capable of the two, that it was his duty to look after him in the place of a guardian; an angrier display of betrayal, a fervent declaration that he'd never truly been needed in the first place.

Instead, Mapplethorpe was placid about it. Too placid.

It set Jay's teeth on edge, a decidedly neutral stare levelled at him as he considered whether to push a little further or not. In the end, he decided to leave it be. If he insisted too much, something in the man could break. There was no other choice than to accept the calm, though he was smart enough to suspect that it was preceding a storm that neither of them could quite see on the horizon yet.

❝ Alright, ❞ he said, a nod offered, a slight smirk lifting the corner of his mouth despite it all. There was nothing to do but take things as they came. That was always the case, but now more than ever. ❝ Well, that's that, then. ❞

He reached into his blazer pocket (something he only continued to wear on the basis of it being warm; its edges were already tattered, serving as makeshift gauze in a pinch back at the university) and retrieved a shoddy handmade map. After a second of surveying it, he lifted his head north and squinted into the dark.

normally, mapplethorpe's feet would dig into the ground and he'd probably pushback a lot more than necessary. ( anytime he felt hurt, he'd usually become volatile. ) he'd raise his voice, he'd pinpoint your insecurities and say things he didn't mean just to hurt you back. ( though, even as delusional as mapplethorpe can be, he knows jay has a point. ) that probably hurt more than anything jay could have said to him.

jay had every right to be concerned about mapplethorpe's reaction. ( a storm is brewing and subconsciously, they both knew that. ) mapplethorpe hasn't had his medication for about a week, taking his last one with a look of exhaustion had been on his face as he tossed it into his mouth. ( he's been medicated for his bpd since he was sixteen. ) it would only be a matter of time until his abandoned issues and the angry outbursts would raise it's ugly head.

he'll chew on the inside of his cheek as his head turns towards the direction jay had been looking at. a groan leaves him, head falling back as he narrows his eyes up towards the night sky. ( no light pollution. that was one good thing about the apocalypse. ) he'll turn his head back towards jay, smirking. "too noisy. need, like--... hunting knives. yeah, a little too close for comfort but no noise to draw in a horde." he'll look down at his lap.

midnight blue eyes shift to look over to jay, who was illuminated by the flickering light from the fire they built. ( he'll pull his knees in towards his chin, wrapping his arms around them to make himself look small. ) mapplethorpe was never keen on showing vulnerability, even around jay. ( they've been through this shit since the start, but mapplethorpe always makes sure jay isn't awake to let it out. ) usually in the form of silently sobbing to himself as he kept watch. ( he feels put on the spot, which he doesn't like. ) he'll poke at the fire with his stick, moving some of the logs as he sniffles loudly. "i thought you always told me the truth," a bit of sarcasm in his tone, knowing this probably isn't the truth. ( though, if jay shatters the delusion, then he'd have to face the reality. ) a soft pout as he chews on the inside of his cheek. "guess your gonna tell me anyways, huh?" / @coastercruushed

✒️ ┋ ❝ I do. Typically. I've never really been in the business of telling lies—but omission is a way around that and kid, I've been omitting a lot. ❞

There were things he was keeping from Mapplethorpe simply by way of wanting him to be able to cling to some kind of comfort. He wasn't a child, but this situation was unbelievably bleak. In a loose fashion, Jay felt somewhat familiar with it, if only through stints of childish rebellion and mental preparations made in ink. This was hardly the first time he'd faced the thought processes accompanying an apocalyptic situation.

It was merely the first time he'd been in one himself.

he'll shift uncomfortably on the ground he sat on, letting one of his legs to straighten out and resting his arm on his still bent leg. ( he always felt like he'd survive the zombie apocalypse. ) years of call of duty and resident evil told him so. not to mention he had always been a great shot with a paintball gun. ( though, the recoil from an actual shotgun was much more powerful. his shoulder was still a little bruised. ) a reminder of his new reality. this shit was real and not a video game.

he needed nicotine but his pen died a week ago and he hasn't been lucky enough to stumble across any cigarettes whenever they raided any drug stores. ( he'll take a deep breath, a little shake in his voice. ) though, he'll force a bit of a smile and a stiff shrug.

"awww, you think i'm capable of mass murder? thanks!" he'll click his tongue loudly on the roof of his mouth. ( the only death he was the cause of was his own. ) oh, also that close call with chester whenever he passed out and barely made it into violetta's arms as the sun rose but we don't talk about that. "i've been tellin' you that it's dangerous but apparently you're deaf." he'll step aside whenever she pushes past him, tongue clicking on the roof of his mouth. "'cause people leave me the fuck alone," he'll cross his arms against his chest as he watches her carefully.

oh, the grim reaper--... that coaster took more lives than any other ride or equipment in this god forsaken park. ( the irony of the name was not lost on the fun kids. ) whilst it was named such to make it seem more terrifying to children, the large coaster seemed to take it quite literally. "yeah but--..." he'll motion towards his ear with his index finger. "selective,"

His hand sliding down to paw at his waistband in a silent request sends a shiver down Gary's spine. While he's been passed around so much, this is the kind of thing that makes this all feel so different and new. That Mapplethorpe is asking him, with weak pulls at his boxers and the prettiest pleading look, rather than just taking them off himself right away. Like Gary has been. He can feel himself blushing, but he still takes them off.

Gary bites down on his lips that start to smile while he pushes his fingers further into Mapplethorpe's mouth. His dick twitches up against him, stirring to life at the familiar feeling he's thought about nonstop. "Missed that mouth," he murmurs once he pulls his fingers out.

"Fuck you- didn't say that I was," she snaps back, shifting her weight between her feet and grabbing her camera strap tighter. Her jaw sets while she debates how honest, if at all, she wants to be. "I just live here now, and got bored," she eventually says, then quickly adds, "the country, or whatever. Not right around here. Just saw some pictures of the place, looked up if they put up somethin' else, and came here."

ah, yeah. this one was a firecracker, wasn't she? head tilts to the side, eyes narrowing as his catlike smirk stays on his suspiciously pale features. ( the park was dark, only lit up by a very bright moon. ) he can blame the dark circles on the lighting, but he isn't the best liar. ( though, he knows how to spin a tale. ) so long as he plays make believe, he should be able to hold it together until he can get this cute girl out of here. ( what? he's a sucker for mean girls. ) he'll offer a grin. "selectively."

his eyebrows shoot up, holding his hands up in mock defense. "don't threaten me with a good time," oh, he's definitely still eternally a teenager. ( at least he didn't make a your mom joke--... but the night is still young. ) he'll grin, eyes narrowing again. "ah, so you decided to come to an abandoned amusement park that is notorious for being dangerous and--..." he can't help but laugh, leaning forward as he grasps right above his knee. "well, notorious for killin' a shit ton of kids--... even recently. though, if you did your research, you'd know that." though, thank god she didn't or she'd recognize his photo if his obituary popped up.

"no. they ain't here." his voice drops a little bit as he stands up straight, jumping whenever she suddenly takes his photo. ( he can't help but look briefly mortified before she decides to turn off the camera instead of looking at it. ) he wouldn't be in the picture. probably just a bright orb or even some mist. ( that would be hard to explain. )