HUMAN FRAILTY!

“Do not speak to me about decorum,” Sebastian sneers, deeply unimpressed by Drew’s arrival and his persistance to stay. One should have the good sense of mind to stay away from one’s enemies, but he supposes Drew has never acted with much sense. His presence is a blight Sebastian must simply suffer through.

“What is that ridiculous tuxedo you are wearing, anyhow? It is not even fashionable for the time. You ought to make a better effort.” He makes no attempt to hide his disdain, clasping his hands behind his back. “Yes, it is indeed objectionable to me, for I am quite aware of your behaviour and your reputation, Andrew.”

✦   ;   drew fraser—@humanfrailty

❛❛ never? maybe we ought to fix that. ❜❜ a little gasp escapes as clouds of grey ash gently billow through the stuffy air. music was the only thing that got her through this neverending life. the one solace keeping chloë from completely crushing herself into nothing but a breathing corpse hanging on to whatever final shreds of humanity she desperately craved. granted, she’s no prodigy, but she made effort getting familiar with an instrument or two over the decades. it’s great to pass the time. ❛❛ what’s something you always wanted to play ? or a sound that seems to draw you in ? ❜❜

ego is the last thing on her mind. she’s been there, done that with quite a many who thought vampirism is something to be put on a pedestal. what did they know ? what did she even know ? it’s a curse. one she hopes to keep under wraps for eternity. at least there’s some comfort knowing others are out there like her, like drew. that, perhaps, not all were raging narcissistic murderers (just the normal murder would make do). ❛❛ who’s to say what’s ‘good’ anyhow ? good is just muscle memory. being bad is an art. ❜❜ she can’t help but laugh at the notion, shaking her head when she goes to inhale a long lingering drag of her cigarette. ❛❛ god, no. i keep it separate. honestly, i think they’re too drunk or high to notice even if i ripped a guy’s neck apart on stage in front of 'em. ❜❜

“Ah, I don’t know. I guess the most obvious thing for me to learn would be the guitar, since I sing, but—” Well, he uses the term sing loosely. “I dunno, never really been my thing. I picked up a lot of languages, but musical instruments still escape me.” He grins, as he flicks the ashes off his cigarette. “I don’t think you can teach an old dog like me new tricks.” Chloe is comparatively young next to him; he’s had many more centuries to become set in his ways and jaded. 

Faye knows what she looks for, usually. It’s that CONFIDENCE AND SWAGGER that comes from a person, who knows who they are, and what they want. Harry, though, doesn’t seem to be any of those things. In fact, he’s all but stumbling over himself, the way that he’s like tongue-tied and playing to impress. It’s unfair to draw him onwards like this, as if something might shift and change within her, or him, to make this anything other than the picture of her using him. But right now, when he had a nice car and was willing to fumble himself to make her laugh, the attention feels nice, doesn’t it? And maybe his earnestness is something that she could find charming for an afternoon. 

How lovely it is to lean back and let him treat her, though, she suspects he doesn’t have the mean. And part of her doesn’t really care - and isn’t that the worst of all? The nice boy who’s been taken advantage of, she leans in, those RED LIPS GRINNING back at him, and she thinks, even still, this is more fun that he’s probably had in a while when not sitting in the front seat. And maybe, for fun, she could convince him to take her for a spin, adrenaline junkie, troublesome woman, she’d do her worst to get what she wanted… and for now, her glass tipped against his own, already feeling herself warm like honey beneath the influence of fine whiskey. 

“You’re fun because you shouldn’t be fun. Because I feel like I might ruin your life, or make your night, and I think you FEEL THE SAME WAY about it, and can’t wait to find out. Because you’ve been waiting for something like this, haven’t you? To shake you, wake you up, make you into a person you’d be proud of. So here I am. And you’ll be fun to watch to see what wins. So. Think about it .Where do you place your bets in this, Harry?”

“Yeah, s’pose I do.” He shrugs his shoulders and takes a sip from his whiskey glass, slightly startled at how well she’s able to read his emotions. Not that it’s hard; he’s an open book, for better or for worse, the kind of man who wears his heart on his sleeve because he doesn’t know any better. “I do hope you don’t ruin my life though, because it would be rather a lot of bother.” Harry adds, a touch of that self-depracating humor ever-present. He finds himself wanting to down the whiskey to give himself the liquid courage to look Faye in the eye, and not wanting to look like a complete heathen in front of her and everyone else in this much-too-posh establishment. 

✦   ;   harry thomas—@humanfrailty

❛❛ のどから手が出る. ❜❜ the words murmur aimlessly past sore lips as ryusei can’t help but frown at the poor sight before him. it was an old idiom from back home ; get out of your throat, to want something so bad you could almost taste it. that’s how he used to feel a couple years ago when he and the martians were starting out. hardly a dollar to their names, managing to get by with busted equipment and many a stolen item snatched from local stores when caving in to desperation. harry’s circumstance brought him right back to those days. lately they managed to get by just fine, but it wasn’t so long ago they were all riding that same boat.

❛❛ wait here. ❜❜ ryusei softly commanded before dipping into the back room where he and his bandmates were hoarding their instruments, quickly returning with a guitar case in his hands like a dog happily retrieving a bone for their owner. ❛❛ take it. i have no need. ❜❜ he insists while forcing an awkward tilted smile to curl at the edge of his lips. while he struggles to truly express himself at times, it takes no effort to show a little kindness. ❛❛ don’t refuse or there will be hell. just play. ❜❜

“Ryusei.” He finally looks up from his beaten-up guitar, at the sight of his friend presenting him with a brand new one. “Look, it’s a really lovely gesture, but I can't take it from you.” There goes Harry with his endless principles again. He doesn’t feel like explaining the whole sob story— of how he’s always wary of being accused of getting things because of who his father was. Never mind the fact that no one in this music venue gives a fuck about his long-dead dad, or the fact that this has nothing to do with motor racing. He’s going to stick to his guns.