sky rockets in flight / afternoon delight

private & selective charlie montague / 2-BIT from deathloop.

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written by z. she/they, 28. mutuals only. 21+. timezone is EST. activity sporadic.

non-rp blogs please do not follow or reblog my posts.

[ FiaFeelgood ] oh, yeah, pleasance used to sing lead in a new wave eco-goth band. [ FiaFeelgood ] her sound is so visceral. a total scream queen [ FiaFeelgood ] I’ll ask mercy if she still knows the crew and can get to pleasance [ FiaFeelgood ] hm? no. should i? [ FiaFeelgood ] 💀 [ FiaFeelgood ] oh no. charlie. [ FiaFeelgood ] you need to clean your ears out when you shower so they’re not so clogged [ FiaFeelgood ] i’ll ask my dad to send ear drops from the mainland <3

rp memes: music edition

🤑 - A song that embodies my muse’s jealousy

look what they've done to my song, ma - melanie

🎶 - A song that gets the mun into the muse’s headspace

“You’re the one who decided to hole up in Updaam, man. Dunno what the hell else you expected being neighbors with Dorsey.” Frank responded casually, chin tilting up as he squinted to get a better view up ahead against the setting Sun, “But, shit, guess I can’t blame ya for wanting a bitchin’ drawbridge that bad.”

Funny how Charlie tried to call him paranoid when the guy made his own fortress as practically inaccessible as his, if not more so, at will. Though Frank could tell there had to be some understanding there considering that he helped him develop the ClassPass system in the first place. He supposed, for him at least, it seemed Charlie’s sanctimony could only go so far.

“Anyways,” He continued, letting the runaway thought go, “how’d you feel about li—SHIT!” Frank cut off his own question with a curse as—like déjà vu—his foot once again slammed down on the breaks as an Eternalist darted out ahead in the road, tires letting out a harsh squeal at the violent stop.

“Y’know, really I wanted a moat with a crocodile, too, but they said the water was too cold for it to actually survive.” He also would have needed to figure out a way to raise the waterline around the castle high enough for him to be able to actually see the crocodile, because there’s no point in having a moat with a crocodile if you can’t even see the crocodile. “I drafted up some rough designs for a robo-crocodile but it didn’t really--”

Frank suddenly stops short. Charlie, who had entirely forgotten about his seatbelt, is launched directly into the windshield, his head colliding with the glass with a solid THUNK.

“What--” He’s now wedged almost entirely on to the dashboard, crumpled like a tossed marionette with his legs in the air, his hat askew, the imprint of his face against the glass. “Help.”

He doesn’t realize he’s bleeding until he feels it trickle down to his ear. The scar - stitches still freshly removed, the gash still just barely healed, perpetually delicate now that the loop has begun before the tissue could fully settle - split open from the impact.

EVEN LIKE THIS, THE WOLF DOESN’T CEASE HIS ONSLAUGHT. Charlie might sluggishly lurch away, but Aleksis still brandishes his hand limply at his face to further emphasize his point in the only way he knows how: crudely and physically. “Not– Not nastyyyy, Charlieeeee.” He laughs again in a lazy chuckle from the back of his throat. “Fuckin’ soft. Like peaches n’ cream. Like a velveteen cloud. Like a baby wolf’s lil’ silk belly…”

But he finally drops his arm to simply lounge where he’s sprawled over the cushions. His mask has gone a bit lopsided, so he adjusts it to better glance at Charlie blurrily through unchanged mask sockets. “Oh, I bet she opened everything-everything. Everything. Ya–Y’know what I’m saying? Ev-er-y-thiiiing.” He clumsily mimes a crass image to color his very subtle innuendo – poking his index finger through a circle made with his curled-up other hand. It only actually lands its mark through said circle twice out of the five or six times he makes the gesture.

He falls quiet, though, when Montague’s words succeed at last in truly puzzling him. His voice even sounds cast in a strange kind of wonder rather than the harsh, mocking cackle his sober self would definitely have responded with. “Damn. Like… never? For real?” There’s a beat of silence as Aleksis lets this soak slooowly in through his weed-bogged mind. “That’s some kind of cotton candy fairytale shit. Like destiny saw you two and was all, ‘this freak and this freak HAVE to do it!’ Fucking magical.” 

He cocks his head floppily from one shoulder to the other. “You had to have thought about it, though. Kissing other people. Before you met. Right? Come on. There are soooo many people in the world! Kissable, kissable people.”

Somehow the blunt’s ended up back in his hand. He’s not sure who passed it to him. Charlie brings it to his lips and sinks further into the plush of the sofa with the exhale. His entire brain (what’s left of it, at least) feels pleasantly cushioned, swaddled in a haze of smoke. If he wasn’t convinced it would halt his productivity output, this could almost become a habit.

Charlie stares at Aleksis, trying to parse what he’s doing with his hands now, mostly just relieved they’re not on his face anymore. It doesn’t matter, though. Not with the late-dawning realization of what he’d just said, to Aleksis Dorsey, of all fucking people. A nervous heat crawls up his neck, and he quickly shoves the roach back to Aleksis. He’s too stoned to spiral into full-on panic, but he’s distantly aware that if he was sober he’d have bolted out of the room screaming by now.

“Shit.” Charlie winces, clamping his palms over his eye. "I don’t - I don’t know, man. Does it fucking matter? I guess I thought about it. I mostly just tried not to. It made me feel stupid. Most people didn’t...”

His mouth is running faster than his brain. Charlie cuts himself off before he manages to make it worse.

[ FiaFeelgood ] no [ FiaFeelgood ] uh huh [ FiaFeelgood ] did we? [ FiaFeelgood ] 💀 [ FiaFeelgood ] ??? [ FiaFeelgood ] 💀💀 [ FiaFeelgood ]  [ FiaFeelgood ] are you sure that was me? [ FiaFeelgood ] i don’t remember shrimp swirlies or any [ FiaFeelgood ] O H ! [ FiaFeelgood ] ‘sunday school shaving cream campsite’. [ FiaFeelgood ] one of the girls in my camp dated the second AD’s auntie before we left the mainland.

  Most favoritest thought for thinking about? Her? She? That’s absolutely not news to her, she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was Charlie’s everything, but somehow hearing 2-BIT- with Charlie’s voice - repeat the sentiment? She’s choking. She’s losing her breath. She’s DYING.

    “Baby… Baby Boy.” She doesn’t hear the sound of Charlie slipping away from her. Her peripheral vision is darkened, there’s nothing in all of existence anymore save for a MOTHER and her CHILD.

  A step forward. Away from the decaying half of Charlie behind her, toward the growing half of Charlie before her. “I love you, too, 2-BIT! I’ve always loved you, I’ll always love you! You’re my special boy! I was there when Wenjie pulled you free!” She’s enthralled. Completely and entirely drawn in to the moment. Her art satchel hits the ground, clanking, crunching and crinkling, letting both of her hands lift to press against 2-BIT’s screen. A brain with a smile. A neuron storm for a halo.

    “Yes! Oh, man, yes! Please tell me? Say it for me?” She’s reaching back towards Charlie. Hand gesturing in the air for him to take, still having a hard time connecting his descent to her reality.

  She wanted to know what he said to prompt all of this. To wake her from her horrific dreams, to cost a man his life. What wonders were weaved by way of this, her child? What wonders awaited her here? “Go on…”

“I LEARN TO SING!” 2-BIT announces, his monitor glowing with pride. Charlie had been completely beside himself. Surely Fia would love it, too.

He wants to watch her reaction. He wants to stand beside her and see when the smile cracks. But Charlie cannot keep himself upright. He finally relents, curls up on his side on the mattress, and watches Fia’s fingers splayed out towards him in the air, empty and reaching, beckoning to follow for him to somewhere her he can’t go. It feels like watching her walk down a dark hallway, and the space between them is stretching, and his knees ache, and he’s going as fast as he can, but Fia’s getting smaller and smaller, further and further ahead as he’s lagging behind...

“CITY LIGHT... FAR FAR AWAY! ON TRIP? OR HOLIDAY!” It’s their song. Of course it’s their song. What else could it be? Charlie hadn’t even taught it to 2-BIT - his robot had started reciting it on his own from residual memory, the trappings of temporal dust left in Charlie’s left lobe. “TAKE RIDE DOWN TOWN! WITHOUT... WITHout...?”

2-BIT’s garbled voice trails off pitifully into silence.

“2-BIT FORGET SONG. I SORRY.”

Charlie’s face crumples, hot tears stinging the corners of his eyes. 2-BIT had sang the whole song, before, in his off-key and pitchy voice. Why can’t he sing it again, now? The nauseous pounding in Charlie’s skull presses against his eyeballs, threatens to pop them out like wine corks. Why does he have to be a failure? Why is he making Charlie FAIL?

❝Right… You’re one of those types.❞ The tone is kept neutral, betraying none of whatever opinions may form. Instead, she pulls up to the hospital now, through the emergency route before finding a spot close enough. Doesn’t want to risk parking on the curb; places like these find their profits wherever they can, however they can. 

His side door opened, Quinn leans down just enough to peek over him, see if he’s able to make it up on his own. The hand is offered out for him to take anyways. ❝Do you have your girlfriend’s number? So I can call her; I assume she’s your emergency contact too.❞

“One of what types?” Charlie bristles. “Sorry I don’t have time for distractions."

The hospital can’t come soon enough. He sways, nauseously, while she deliberates over a parking space. If she was smart she’d just pop the car on the curb and deal with the consequences later. What’s a parking ticket or three?

His door swings open. Charlie winces, eyeing her hand like she might have a dagger hidden up her sleeve. Hesitantly, it takes it, letting her pull him up out of the seat.