true friends stab you in the front

feel free to edit or elaborate as you please .   ( add  ‘ reverse ‘  to your message if you’d like to see how my muse would perform the action ) . otherwise , send in one of these for my muse’s reaction to   …

[ lit ]  your muse lighting a cigarette , spliff , etc. for mine . 

[ order ]  your muse ordering for mine at a restaurant or bar .

[ guide ]  your muse putting a hand on mine’s back to lead them .

[ pay ]  your muse paying for mine at a store , bar , restaurant , etc . ( you can specify where or for what . )

[ open ]  your muse opening a door for mine .

[ dry ]  your muse drying mine off with a towel after a shower , bath , swimming , etc . 

[ instruct ]  your muse giving mine instructions / telling them what to do . 

[ groom ]  your muse adjusting mine’s appearance , such as straightening a tie , fixing their hair , or buttoning their shirt for them , etc . 

[ direct ]  your muse taking mine by the chin and telling them to look yours in the eye .

[ disagree ]  your muse sternly telling mine  ‘ no ‘ .

[ rest ]  your muse resting their arm over mine’s shoulder / s .

[ clean ]  your muse cleaning a smudge of something off mine’s cheek , forehead , etc .   feel free to specify what and how . 

[ answer ]  your muse answering a question meant for mine . 

[ coat ]   your muse holds mine’s coat out for them while they put it on .

[ pilot ]  your muse taking mine by the arm , hand , shoulder , etc . to lead them . 

[ stare ]  your muse staring mine down . 

[ placement ]  your muse telling mine to sit down .

[ teach ]  your muse taking control of mine’s hand , arm , hips , etc . to make sure they do something correctly .  

[ patience ]  your muse telling mine to be patient .

[ tears ]  your muse wiping away mine’s tears .

[ swat ]  your muse swatting mine’s hand away from something they’re not supposed to touch .  

[ jewelry  ]  your muse clasping a piece of jewelry for mine , such as a necklace , or earrings . 

[ enough ]  your muse commanding mine to stop talking . 

[ retrieve ]  your muse requesting or ordering mine to retrieve them something .

[ invite ]  your muse inviting mine to sit on their lap .

[ lean ]  your muse inviting mine to lean into their side while they’re sitting or laying together . 

[ calm ]   your muse telling mine to  ‘ just breathe ‘ .

[ scold ]  your muse scolding mine for something .

[ comfort ]  your muse pulling mine into a reassuring hug .

[ approval ]  your muse complimenting mine on a choice they’ve made .

[ beckon ]  your muse beckoning mine to them without speaking . 

[ laces ]  your muse lacing , tying , or zipping something for mine , such as shoes , a dress , or a jacket , etc .

[ stay ]  your muse telling mine to stay in the car . 

[ defend ]  your muse defending mine’s reputation , dignity , or safety for them . 

[ feed ]  your muse feeding mine something , feel free to specify what .

[ volume ]  your muse demanding mine speak louder .

[ read ]  your muse reading something to mine .

[ refill ]  your muse refilling mine’s glass for them . 

Parted lips give a murmur of assent, understanding of his task. He kept to the shadows, stalking around the edge of the area, behind the hook, keeping an eye out. He heard Liberty’s soft voice speaking to her, and under it, the sound of his own heart.

It wasn’t the hard rush of a nearby killer, at least, not yet. He did, however, come back just as they were finishing up. “We should go, in case he comes back. Do you know which gens are done?” He directs the question at the survivor, who says her and the other survivor had done one before getting split up. Hal hums, that made two done so far, that they knew of anyway. Maybe the other guy was doing them. He could hope.

Hal swore he could feel the heat of her glare on him, it made him antsy- or maybe that was the remaining adrenaline. She could ruin everything, just by opening her mouth. He took them towards the middle of the realm, hoping the trapper was somewhere dealing with the other guy.

He rounds a corner as his heart beats in his ears, maybe it was the killer and maybe it wasn’t- thats the mind game, isnt it? He growls under his breath, trying to recall where the generators were.

    There’s some tension in the air, and he gets the feeling the girl leaning on him heavily and the boy leading them around aren’t entirely friends. He can’t let inerpersonal drama drag them down however, and he readies himself to tend to any growing quarrel. 

Inhale.      Exhale. He calms his beating heart, if his heart is hammering out of fear, how can he hope to rely on it as a warning bell? It eases, slowly, but it does. At least for now. 

It’s the woman who points him towards the next generator, his arm extending to gently touch Hal’s shoulder in a silent bid for attention, motioning in the direction their new companion has directed them. It isn’t too far away, he’s decided he doesn’t like this place, too many areas exposed and too many too closed off. He prefers maps with trees and tall grasses.

The girl gets to work immediately, and with two people to do the generator, he decides his tech-dumb hands have no place even touching it. 

“If I try to help, I’ll likely simply slow you down” he admits.      “But I can watch  your backs. If he comes, I’ll make sure you escape”

“Just focus on not fucking up and accept that I’m helping you.” He hisses, they were almost done, and if they fucked up “-I swear to god.” He muttered the last bit unintentionally, but luckily, they get it done without a hitch. Hal stands, wiping his hands mindlessly on his jacket.

1:A song you like with a color in the title

2:A song you like with a number in the title

3:A song that reminds you of summertime

4:A song that reminds you of someone you would rather forget about

5:A song that needs to be played LOUD

6:A song that makes you want to dance

7:A song to drive to

8:A song about drugs or alcohol

9:A song that makes you happy

10:A song that makes you sad

11:A song that you never get tired of

12:A song from your preteen years

13:One of your favorite 80’s songs

14:A song that you would love played at your wedding

15:A song that is a cover by another artist

16:One of your favorite classical songs

17:A song that would sing a duet with on karaoke

18:A song from the year that you were born

19:A song that makes you think about life

20:A song that has many meanings to you

21:A favorite song with a person’s name in the title

22:A song that moves you forward

23:A song that you think everybody should listen to

24:A song by a band you wish were still together

25:A song by an artist no longer living

26:A song that makes you want to fall in love

27:A song that breaks your heart

28:A song by an artist with a voice that you love

29:A song that you remember from your childhood

Hal hums in appreciation at the encouragement, getting back into it. Luckily, their progress hadn’t been set back too far. Crossed wires and connected pieces, he’d worked on more complex things in his spare time. He sighed once it was done, standing up and letting his wings half stretch behind him while he glances around.

“I wonder if the others have done any more…” He muses to himself. They could always ask, if they meet up. A shrill scream cuts across his thoughts, someone was caught in a trap or hooked. He looked over at Liberty, then turned towards the scream. It was closer than he would have liked, perhaps if it was farther he could ignore it, but as it stood his pale acquaintance definitely seemed the type to want to stage a rescue.

“We better go get her.” He says, moving as quickly as he could without sacrificing his ability to see. His wings and dark clothes were a welcome advantage in letting him hide, when he brought his hood up, it hid his light blonde hair. He had enough frame of mind to hope he wasn’t just running straight for the killer, of course, but if the survivor was hooked then time was definitely not on her side, and he refused to fail this task he had set himself.

    Excellent! It seems Hal has much more of a knack for technology than he does. Maybe he can get him to teach a thing or two. But that will have to wait for a later time. For now, they should find another, and th-

The cry makes his head whip towards the source, but it’s Hal who suggests they lend aid before he has a chance to, it immediately endears him to the other man, he can understand how easy it would be to simply concentrate on one’s own survival here, in all honesty he wouldn’t even blame anyone, how could he?

But that just makes the bravery Hal shows more meaningful, he thinks, and though his expression remains almost impassive in its tired set, he nods swiftly and sets off after his companion with as much swiftness and as quietly as he can manage.

She isn’t far away, the closer they get the more he slows, and the more he hunkers down, until he is all but crouched. The woman is so still as she hangs that for a moment he wonders if she even lives, but then, the stillness is intelligent, struggling only causes more damage.      Because Hal is shorter, he reaches out to touch the other’s shoulder almost in reassurance. “Keep lookout, and run if you see him.” his voice is soft, all but a whisper now, the Trapper could be skulking nearby still. But he won’t be long. He approaches the hook cautious as a deer, but is more than strong enough to help haul their teammate off the wicked curve of the hook. It makes a terrible sound.

It really is a nasty wound, she won’t die, whatever rules this place won’t let her unless certain conditions are met, but he kneels beside her and speaks with a soft, reassuring voice as he tends to her wound insomuch as he can without medical supplies. Mostly that consists of stemming the flow of blood, at one point, he reaches up to tuck a lock of his hair back and smears a line of it over the top of his cheek near an eye. Something he notices and tries not to think about.

It wasn’t the hard rush of a nearby killer, at least, not yet. He did, however, come back just as they were finishing up. “We should go, in case he comes back. Do you know which gens are done?” He directs the question at the survivor, who says her and the other survivor had done one before getting split up. Hal hums, that made two done so far, that they knew of anyway. Maybe the other guy was doing them. He could hope.

Hal swore he could feel the heat of her glare on him, it made him antsy- or maybe that was the remaining adrenaline. She could ruin everything, just by opening her mouth. He took them towards the middle of the realm, hoping the trapper was somewhere dealing with the other guy.

“sounds…” he thinks it through. “Well, ain’t a smart choice”

You could invade someone’s property that way. 

His head snaps to the left, the soft crack of some twig drawing his eyes but he decides, in the end, that it’s nothing. He could use Hal to go check generators, but it feels unfair somehow, so he doesn’t. Instead he just sort of encourages the boy to keep close and hopes their conversation doesn’t carry too much, it’s never seemed to matter too much in the past. If anything, survivors seem less wary around speech.

Hal isn’t struck by the concept of meeting another person with albinism- his family were all pale skinned and odd-eyed- no, but he is stuck with how beautiful the man who had saved him is. He looses almost half of what he says, Liberty is his name, how funny, his voice is nice, something about a conversation? He does get that they should stick together, yes, good idea. He nods in agreement, his feathers rustling as he turns, trying to remember where the generators are. Luckily, he does know how to do those.

He waves to his new companion as he weaves around piles of scrap, locating a half-fixed generator, and kneeling down beside it with no pause. He gradually worked through it, looking up occasionally for any sign of the killer. His knees sit in cold, damp dirt, it’s an uncomfortable position. He was almost finished when the machine spit angry sparks back at him as he flinched back, covering his face with a curse.

“Fuck, shit-” He hissed as he got up, shaking his hand and carefully looking around. maybe the killer was busy.

     No words but they aren’t needed, he follows after his new friend silently. Part of him wonders if he shouldn’t try to help and should simply play lookout, he’s really no good with these things, but he decides it would be bothersome to force Hal to do it all alone, so he kneels, the ground cool even through his jeans. It makes his spine crawl, how is he supposed to clean them? Die again he supposes, they always come back fressh.

Best not think about that now, his fingers glide over the wires and the little metal parts and he wishes, selfishly for a moment, that Tex were here to help him, it’s fleeting however, he doesn’t really wish she were here. She deserves better, but still! She’d totally rock these.

The generator practically explodes, and he quickly stifles the little sparks and fires with the sleeves of his coat. It certainly was loud, makes him peer over his shoulder and then over the generator. 

“I wonder if the others have done any more...” He muses to himself. They could always ask, if they meet up. A shrill scream cuts across his thoughts, someone was caught in a trap or hooked. He looked over at Liberty, then turned towards the scream. It was closer than he would have liked, perhaps if it was farther he could ignore it, but as it stood his pale acquaintance definitely seemed the type to want to stage a rescue.

((Feel free to add your own. Have fun~ ))

By whatever gods existed, Hal loathed the Trapper.

Autohaven itself was bad enough, with it’s low light and reminders around every corner of the Wraith, but he would take his jealous snapping over the feeling of his ankle catching in another trap. He’d just disabled one of them, when his heartbeat suddenly spiked, and he quickly found himself running to escape the killer.

He had to get away quick, they just got stronger, faster, over time. Around the corner and- Shit, there’s someone there! Hal’s too startled to speak, his wings drawn tight against his back as he’s shoved into a locker. He goes stock still, despite the way his chest protested, until the pounding of his heart fades. Only then does he take a breath, slightly dizzy still when the locker opens. His bright blonde hair is frazzled, some of the ponytail falling out of the tie, but he’s unharmed. He nods, stepping out and turning around to get a look at his savior.

“Yeah, thanks. I don’t think I could’a lost him.” He says, looking over the other, as he realized he seemed to be new here. He hadn’t seen this one around before. His wings shifted as he tilted his head slightly, curious. “I’m Hal. Don’t think I’ve seen ya around before.”

     He finally has a chance to examine the other survivor, his appearance takes him offguard for a moment. The white-blond of his hair and the red of his eyes. The shock of seeing someone with the same genetic mutation as him almost distracts him from the wings, almost, he finds he wants to touch them, to see if they’re real, but best not. That seems like it would be as rude as asking to touch a stranger’s hair.

“Excellent, I’m glad, things were harried, I was worried I may have done more harm than good.” he turns his head in the direction the Trapper had lumbered off in, but there’s no sign of the man’s return, good. His attention returns to his new companion.

“A pleasure, Hal.” his voice is gentle, surprisingly high and soft for a man who stands at an impressive six feet tall. He can’t be bothered to waste the energy trying to lower it right now and if anyone wants to bother him about it that’s their issue.

     “My friends call me Liberty, and I invite you to do so as well.” 

His hand finds his necklace, turning the little golden cross over and over between the tips of his fingers. It’s a thoughtful, but nervous motion. 

He waves to his new companion as he weaves around piles of scrap, locating a half-fixed generator, and kneeling down beside it with no pause. He gradually worked through it, looking up occasionally for any sign of the killer. His knees sit in cold, damp dirt, it’s an uncomfortable position. He was almost finished when the machine spit angry sparks back at him as he flinched back, covering his face with a curse.

He’s never seen this trialspace before, not unusual, he’s the new guy after all, for all he knows, these places never end, it provides little comfort, the great piles of rubber and metal that litter Autohaven Wreckers serve only as monuments to decay, there is nothing he can see in them to bring reassurance or comfort, they do not even have the kindness to present some long, ruined scrap of metal to serve as a weapon.

All the same, he tries not to let it get to him, frustration never made anyone better at anything. 

His heart is in his ears.

It makes him whip his head to the side, pale blue eyes scanning the dark, a twig snaps. Heavy. Too heavy. He catches only a glimpse of the Trapper before he takes off, he’s agile despite his height, and fear makes him even faster than usual, surprisingly perhaps, the fear is not overwhelming. It is more a sense of purpose than it is true terror, live, escape, repeat.  Find a way out.

He takes a corner so hard he practically slams into the person in front of him, quick reflexes result in the boy merely being grabbed instead, he feels bad for it, surely it’s shocking, but there isn’t precisely time to explain. Attempting to balance haste with subtlety he tosses open the door of the decrepit locker stationed dutifully by the nearest heap of scrap.

There really isn’t room for both of them, so he doesn’t even try, just sort of shoves the stranger in with a murmur of “Sorry!” before closing the doors and disappearing behind the scrap heap in question, scrambling over it bites at his hands but the heavy blue peacoat and sturdy black jeans he’s wearing keep the metal from tearing at too much flesh. He could keep running, but from here, he can watch to make sure the locker isn’t disturbed. If it looks like it is, he’ll be able to steal attention away before that stranger is revealed.

     He stifles his breath, his heartbeat roars harder in his ears, harder, harder, harder. His fingers curl around a nearby scrap of metal, not ideal, but better than just giving in.  Louder. Louder…Softer…Softer. 

He dares to let himself relax, to exhale a held breath, the adrenaline is making him a little nauseous but that will fade. When all is silent again, he creeps around the side of the scrap heap and back to the locker, knocking twice before opening the door and looking down at the poor man he’s so rudely shoved into a closet.

Autohaven itself was bad enough, with it’s low light and reminders around every corner of the Wraith, but he would take his jealous snapping over the feeling of his ankle catching in another trap. He’d just disabled one of them, when his heartbeat suddenly spiked, and he quickly found himself running to escape the killer.

He had to get away quick, they just got stronger, faster, over time. Around the corner and- Shit, there’s someone there! Hal’s too startled to speak, his wings drawn tight against his back as he’s shoved into a locker. He goes stock still, despite the way his chest protested, until the pounding of his heart fades. Only then does he take a breath, slightly dizzy still when the locker opens. His bright blonde hair is frazzled, some of the ponytail falling out of the tie, but he’s unharmed. He nods, stepping out and turning around to get a look at his savior.