@biirdbone SAID: ❓ >:) i think it’s about time z finds emma in her natural state of confusion and distress ☆ MEME: send an icon ☆ send FANMAIL!
Reversed familiarity.
When she looks at him, she doesn’t seem to recognize him. She appears to be looking right through him, dazed and unfocused and haunted. Panic in her eyes. Exhaustion. Confusion. Pure, unadulterated misery. She is not the Emma he knows, but he recognizes that she may be the Emma that’s always been there, lurking in the periphery and waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
He’ll be there for her. He owes her. Once upon a time, she’d found him like this, broken and alone in a back alley, lost somewhere between hell and nowhere. Now, it seems, it’s her turn.
He ignores how sweet she smells, how delectable, and gently reaches for her hand.
❛ Hey. I don’t know if you know who I am right now, but I’m here to help. Is that okay? I want to help. ❜
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It had been nearly two weeks since he walked out of her bedroom door. Rudely awoken the next morning by a gruff looking Omerta thug who had “kindly” asked him to leave. Ben didn’t dare make too much of a fuss about it; not only because their fire power outweighed his own a million to one, but he knew any more wrong moves and he would end up with a permanent ban. In that time, he spent the first few days drunkenly whining to anyone who would listen to him at the Atomic Wrangler, telling anyone who would listen (and even those who didn’t want to) that he had a plan. Until one day, Hadrian has just about enough of his moaning and told him ‘well, stop talking about it and do it!’. After a continued night of drinking, waking up with a horrible hangover that he decided to cure with some Rebound and a shot of whiskey, he had done just that.
The entire set up of his plan took a few days -- bribing one of his old NCR comrades stationed at the farm, who he knew would look the other way, for an extra uniform, a smaller one than the ones he would need. A child’s one, he swears. A gathering of supplies that he kept locked away in the footlocker of his rented hotel room at the Wrangler, a couple of extra guns and meds that he managed to sweet talk Ralph into selling him. Ready, set. He has only a little doubt that this plan won’t work.
As he approaches the monorail, he keeps his face covered. Sunglasses, face wrap. No-one suspects him. And what grounds would they have to, anyway? No-one is stupid enough to impersonate an NCR trooper on the off chance they might get to see a pretty girl they’ve kissed once and not been able to stop thinking about since, and that every time they do think about her, their chest burns and their hands ache and their lips tingle and all they want is the chance to kiss her again. No, certainly no-one is that stupid.
It doesn’t take long for the monorail to slide and grind its way from Camp McCarran to The Strip. No-one questions why he has a bag full of supplies, and why would they? He’s an upstanding citizen of the New California Republic! Ben avoids all other troopers as they disembark, watching them disperse for their day of debauchery and bad decisions. Knows that they will end up making a fool of themselves and their commanding officers will end up dragging at least one of them out of here with piss-stained pants later that evening. But it won’t be him, at the very least.
Into the Gomorrah, without any trouble. Ben swears the big three have ties that run so deep with NCR that they would let anyone in uniform waltz in here without batting an eyelid. That definitely works in his favour. Sneaking into places he isn’t meant to be suddenly seems like less of a daunting task. As he enters the Brimstone, he can’t see Emma anywhere. Immediately disheartened, but doesn’t give up. He makes his way through the building and out into the open-air courtyard. The girls out here are much more scantily clad, if that were even possible, than the ones inside. All giving him the eye, a waggling finger to try and entice him to spend just a couple of blissful minutes with them. That’s all it will take, honey. Ben avoids eye contact, searching for her. All he wants, all he needs, is her. And oh, how his heart blossoms as he catches sight of her entering the building at the other end of the courtyard.
He picks up his pace, and manages to catch up with her. Ben reaches out for her arm, and as he will soon come to find out, should have announced himself first. But with a gentle force, he’s opening the door to his right that leads to a closet, and thankfully not an occupied hotel room, and pulling her in with him. ( @biirdbone )
BLEND DOESN’T LIKE HAVING HER EMOTIONS TAKE SUCH A FIRM GRASP OF HER LIKE THIS , MAKING HER PARANOID AND DESPERATE ( HATES HOW DESPERATION FEELS , WHAT IT REMINDS HER OF ) - ----ivy makes easy work of the steps leading up to ben’s & emma’s apartment , feet practically gliding across the floor as she sprints to the door as fast as she physically can , heart beating loud enough that she’s sure they’d both hear it .
blend practically tears the door off of it’s hinges in her haste , palms smacking loudly against the wood of the door frame in anticipation ❛ come on kiddies , time to stop fucking and start answering phones yeah ? ❜ as soon as the door’s open , ivy is barrelling in , cautious look given to emma as she passes her ( should disturb her how easily emma allows her into their apartment , no questions asked ) , but in times like this , ivy is thankful . spinning to face the demon once she finishes her brief scan of the living room , she thrusts her unlocked phone towards her--- ❛ he hasn’t answered me in like three hours , where the hell is he ? you guys know you can’t just block me out , it doesn’t work like that . ❜ she’s barely finished speaking before she crowds the girl , looking as imposing as someone still in their pyjamas can . ❛ look emma , i know you don’t like me , but this is bullshit---- ❜ hands come up to grip their girls’s arms ( harder than she means ) , earthy green orbs burning into cool marble green ❛ ----ems , all you gotta do is tell me where he is so i can kick his ass two ways to friday then i’m gone ; you won’t even hear from me all week , promise . ❜ what she hoped to be laugh comes out as a cruel rasp of breath , earthy green orbs widening as they finally take in the appearance of the girl opposite ; dread sinks to the very bottom of her stomach like a heavy stone , tears threatening to burn & spill past orbs ❛ . . . emma , you do know where he is . . . right ? ❜
“What ---- what do you mean you can’t find Ben? How could possibly lose a whole person?” It is not unlike his brother to go AWOL. Never been the best at communicating. But as Emma says it, Miguel can not deny the sinking feeling in his stomach. It has been different, the absence of any answering of his texts. At the very least, he normally gets a thumbs up. But nothing. Radio silence. Miguel is placing down the two cups of tea between them, carefully stepping over Augustus who has decided to lay down at Emma’s feet to sleep as he does so, before sitting back down beside her. “He has to be somewhere.” ( @biirdbone )
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“You know what I could use right now?” She really wants to say a nap, but ultimately decides against it. Instead opting to say something a little more normal. “A nice amount of caffeine.” There’s a small sigh as she comes to rest her head in her hands. She’s tired.
“Emma. Emma.” Zelda nudged Emma’s foot with her boot. “It’s over,” she stressed, eyes wide and gleeful. “It’s all over. Can you believe it?” She couldn’t. It was too good to be true. None of it felt real. Eden’s Gate. Joseph. The whole fucking nightmare. Over! There were fourteen of them in total. Packed into the back of a truck like sardines. Stifled by the heat. The stench. The sweaty bodies. Emma sat opposite her. She was the only face Zelda recognised as she slumped carelessly against the truck’s wall, cuffed wrists limp in her lap. She didn’t care about any of it. Not the humidity, not the body odour. Not the way the handcuffs dug painfully into her wrist bone. People were crying. Others were praying. Zelda was smiling. Laughing. What else could she do? “Ohhhhh fuck --- it’s all fucking over!” She yelled out over the cacophony of other sounds. “We’re fuckin’ free! Suck my dick, Joseph! Ha-ha!”
@biirdbone SAID: closer. ( who even says this is sexual? emma sneaks up on people she wants to murder all the time -- ). ✚ MEME: whore memes ✚ send a MESSAGE?
It’s hard to catch him by surprise.
Izaya is an alert creature by nature; he prides himself on being at least three steps ahead of any possible opponent, aware, anticipatory, and ready to react — but it’s not impossible to get the upper hand. His torso has the scars to prove that.
Emma in particular has the rather pesky advantage of being inhuman. Her abilities extend far beyond his own, which, unfortunately, is a concept that not only lends itself to playing dirty, but practically begs for it. There is much she’s able to get away with — why wouldn’t she indulge?
He doesn’t see her, doesn’t hear her, doesn’t feel her presence — not until it’s too late, anyway.
He thinks he’s alone on that rooftop, perched precariously on the edge. Perhaps he isn’t paying as much mind to his surroundings as he usually would, so confident in his isolation that he allows himself to grow complacent. In fact, he appears to be somewhere else entirely, lost in thought as he peers beyond the precipice and observes the distant masses far below.
It’s a tall building. One wrong move and he would fall to his death. The possibility doesn’t seem to occur to him — or doesn’t seem to matter.
And then, all too suddenly, she’s upon him, eyes filled with hate and rot. It happens quickly and anticlimactically — a small push, unceremonious despite her clear disdain. The brutality of it is so careless that it becomes casual, almost.
He notices her too late, but luckily it doesn’t prove fatal; just before he stumbles into oblivion, he grabs onto her and shifts his weight in the opposite direction, sending them both crashing onto the rooftop’s cold, indifferent cement. She breaks his fall, however slightly, landing beneath him.
Despite everything, including the knowledge that a small injury would mean nothing to an entity such as herself, Izaya cradles the back of her head so that it does not hit the ground.
And then laughs — right in her face, he laughs in that way she so hates, vile and unfathomable, joyfully manic. He kisses her forehead, then her mouth, pulling away and standing up before she can begin to flail and fight. All the while, he laughs.
"Emma — oh, Emma! Did you just try to kill me?” It’s asked between giggles, and the tone of his voice is absurd: he says kill perhaps the same way someone else would say ‘kiss’, as though a threat of death is nothing more than a sensual promise.
Emma scrambles to her feet, wild-eyed and enraged. She’s quick to use her power on him, no second thoughts or second guesses, inflicting as much pain as possible at a distance. As he seizes and falls, lost in an agonized, ecstatic frenzy, she thinks she hears him call her beautiful. It is somehow more horrific than any alternative.
She leaves him where he is, overcome on the ground, and runs.