#beastsxharlots

Send me a '✉' for a "the morning after" note left on your pillow.

Kat:

Babe, I think getting out of bed this morning was the most painful thing ever. No literally, I felt like I was smacked the face with a full moon when I got up this morning, minus the grogginess and waking up on the cold, hard, natural ground. Anyways, I got a text from Em saying she wanted me to do something with her and when the wife from another life needs me, I go. You know you signed up for this. Anyway, I have bacon defrosting for you if you want to cook it when you wake up or eat it raw or do whatever weird things you do. I love you lots and thank you for reading this stupid little ramble. I'll see you later.

Kat xoxox

Poison:

It was fun, but it's the last time I say "fuck me" around you. I kinda had to up and leave on you because she she bitch cunt pants summoned me for something to do with Jack and since he's my priority in life, I'm probably there dealing with her now. Help yourself to a shower and I'll make you something when I get back.

Poi

Cody:

You leave and you come back the size of a balloon. I usually don't do shit with pregnant chicks, but hey, you give oral. Yeah, due to you not being here, the apartment's gone to shit so I'm sorry it's really not that cool but Eevee told me a good place to find paints so I think I'll get it redone or something. I'll see you around. Hopefully.

Text my muse one of the following...

@beastsxharlots 

Questionable, it was how the weather changed from one day to the next; how it was as unpredictable as the waves that struck the harbor just outside of the town; would Mother Nature feel mercy towards human kind that promising day? Or would she take on the wrath of Titans and Gods and bring on the mighty thunders and storms that Thor himself would be proud of? No matter how technology tried, one could not predict what was coming. Lebane had a terrible track record of drastically unpredictable weather; one day consisting of snow and ice and the next could be heat-waves and droughts. It was what made living there interesting and out of the ordinary.

The health of the residents in the town had taken a down turn as of late; folk moving around with horrendous coughs and bleary looking eyes. Flu, perhaps? Nobody really knew and, since whatever it was wasn’t responding to doctors prescribed medication, people simply carried on and hoped it would simply vanish in the same way it had appeared rather than progressing to something like the plague. An unlikely progression, but nobody knew nor chanced such a thing in the town… there were far too many strange happenings.

Even the dark Earl atop the hill in the dilapidated manor hadn’t been very well, though not in the same manner as the village folk.  His thoughts had turned darker, more sinister; his actions being few and far between. He was even known to have sat in front of one of the partially shattered mirrors in the cellar for days on end; simply staring at himself, at his reflection. He had only rose to his feet once his cat began pawing at his leg and mewling loudly; feeding it and returning to exactly as he was before.

He had set camp up in that position; bottles of wine and empty cigarette packets dotted around in rather large numbers; a pack of playing cards, tarot cards and a lighter in a small pile next to a single candle. New bloodstains riddled the walls nearby; in the form of finely written symbols and illegible words. More stains were on the concrete floor where the running, crimson liquid had pooled and settled; eventually soaking in and leaving the red mark. There had been no intentions of clearing it up made; and thus it was left.

Now residing in the old mortuary, hidden in the North of the cellar; the entrance to which hidden behind a slightly ajar barrel and picture frame; Lyrieux was lay upon one of the metal slabs that had been previously used for the bodies of the deceased… what for was still unknown. It shouldn’t have even been there. Regardless, he had been lay there, in the cold, blue hue of the room for some time; the only movement being of the cigarette to and from his lips at small intervals. A subtle sound of water dripping into one of the nearby sinks prevented the air from falling silent, and it was somewhat soothing to the young fellow whom was lay in there.

 Phone on his chest, wine by his side; IV drip linked to his arm, the contents being to rehydrate him since he hadn’t been eating or drinking, not daring to leave the manor with all of the sickness and disease down in the town. That or he simply had no motivation, no true reason to get him to move outside other than the gardens out the back…

To slip completely off the radar as he had sent rumors of his death around the village; nobody had seen him, nobody had heard from him… no presence at the cemetery; nothing. Some brave souls had even walked up the manors extensive driveway and into the main hall to glance around but found nothing more than the mass bloodstains on the floorboards and scattered books; broken furniture and candles that had long burnt out; leading up to a bedroom that had once been restored but fell recently into disuse. He hadn’t wanted to go in there… not since his bouts of nightmares and terrors. To wake up with your heart racing and feeling as if it was being ripped out was not something anyone wanted to experience… but with Lyrieux; it had been twice a night, every night, for well over a few months.

Tears slipped slowly down his cheeks as he re-read various text messages on his phone; torturing himself with memories of things that had become lost to him. The water on his cheeks took a few moments to freeze in place; blue lips housing yet another cigarette as he glanced up momentarily at the content of the IV bag hanging above him.

He looked over sent messages, void of replies and finally tossed his phone at the wall, watching as it shattered into various plastic and metal pieces and then, the young male curled onto his side; closing his eyes and allowing the words to twist around in his mind. Most of the messages had been like a diary of his movements for the past few months… showing his mental decrease in a pitiful way.