(autoplay) myrmidon.

you debate pulling out another cigarette. with the mood this one has going on, the dark and looming suffocating vibe he’s pulling, fuck you might need one. listening to people’s problems, gaining information from them and learning about their lives just wasn’t your thing no matter what way you looked at it. sure, you had no trouble half assed listening to one of dave’s spin offs about something and could even pretend you were paying enough attention to get him to laugh or to go on, but in the long run? there were just other things on your mind. like- rappin’ bitches, rappin’ bitches, bitches and rappin’ rappin’ and bitches till of us switches. it was so iconic you could never forget those words while trying to figure out what they even meant. which was insanely ironic because you were well aware what they meant but wanted to find out again anyway. it was akin to that of opening a surprise, closing it and then opening it again just to enjoy it for the thousandth and eighth time.

Well, he wasn’t going to sit down, if that was the implication. Not literally on him. That would just be--no. He wasn’t even going to entertain the idea any further, hesitation clear in his body before eventually giving in. It was much easier to give up than usual. Taking a perch across from him, leaning back against an opposite wall... this was probably wrong. And he kept thinking about that. But it wasn’t like right had been a much better option lately. So maybe just tonight, this would fall somewhere in the middle. He wasn’t attempting to decide one way or another.

PASS. COMPLETELY.

Pass. Always pass.

That sense of determination. A drive and a goal, a willingness to fight. He hadn’t heard someone like this in, truly, months...

He’d seen a lot of death in his life and, well. Horrifying would put the video lightly. 

What do we do? 

      What was with these blond assholes in unnecessary sunglasses and their puppet fetishes?

It would certainly seem like a pattern. Although... they weren’t all bad, if he’d come to know anything at all concerning blondes in sunglasses.

      You continue to frown, running your fingers slowly through your hair and leaning back against a streetlight as you check over the rest of your phone’s data. Everything is as it should be – looks like Dave just borrowed it to fuck with Lon’qu. 

Well that’s nice, at least. Solace was mutually shared, in fact, knowing that he was no longer talking about something as vile as the aforementioned subject. The idea that Yuan had said any of that was troubling enough on its own -- actually reading into the subject matter? That much worse.

      You don’t move from your spot on the street after you send the text, back straight and rigid as you stare at the disgusting messages. That someone had stolen your belongings from you, used your name for this –

Unaware of the other’s torment (though he could guess the embarrassment and shame), he blinked at the response. Certainly he didn’t consider it a fault of his, did he? It didn’t seem like it was his intention for this to happen, anyway... Hm.

You hesitate for a second, mulling it over in your head before you decide to concede. You can’t imagine he really likes texting all that much anyway, whereas you spent a good portion of your life only talking to people through these kinds of devices.

Left to his decision, he felt more nervous. It’d been easier when it was Dirk who suggested to do any of this... but why he kept seeking out “easy,” he was certainly unsure of. Perhaps because easy was less tiring. Less trying. He could only stand so much, despite what he may think otherwise.