#copadjacent

🛑 ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh no

☕ @copadjacent | wipe the blood from my muse | memes -> always accepting !!

Hands, painted with sticky crimson, violently TREMBLE along with the rest of her body. In waves of convulsion, the sound of her own heartbeat sending flashes of dirty colors across her vision. It's only when the warm cloth is gingerly wiped across her skin does it calm. Cleaning the red mingled with salty tears from her discolored cheek, but she still can't look him in the EYE. Instead, her vision sweeps across the scene. Red, white, and blue sirens illuminating a body, glistening off of the gun that had been in her own hands just minutes ago an altercation that unveiled the desperation it took to escape her captor and IRRATIONALITY had her anticipating abandonment.

Minor bruises and scuffs were nothing to her, the sting was nothing compared to the TERROR of losing him again.

@copadjacent​ sent

[ offer ] sender is cooking for receiver and offers out a spoon for receiver to sample a taste

Nova moved away instinctively when the spoon first came into view. She hadn’t been paying attention to what Jane was saying, or doing, she’d been working on a drawing in her sketchbook. She looked from the spoon with a small scoop of red sauce on it, to Jane’s face before reaching to take the spoon from him. As she held it, her other hand held out beneath to catch any potential drippings, she briefly glanced back at Jane before she tasted the scoop of sauce. It was sauce alright, tomato-y, sauce. She nodded as she placed the spoon on the counter beside her. 

    “Are you whom a fella consults for a ‘psychic reading?’”

The man that approaches Patrick is diminutive, yet something about the bottomless brown of his eyes, and the deadened, hypnotic sway of his head, suggests that he contains a black hole somewhere, perhaps in his brain or his chest or his very anima.  His smile does not assuage. 

@copadjacent​ 

for @copadjacent

𝔖𝔥𝔢 𝔣𝔢𝔢𝔩𝔰 𝔟𝔞𝔡, 𝔟𝔲𝔱 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔤𝔲𝔦𝔩𝔱 𝔦𝔰𝔫'𝔱 𝔢𝔫𝔬𝔲𝔤𝔥 𝔱𝔬 𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔳𝔢 𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔥𝔲𝔫𝔤𝔢𝔯.

She'd been on her own now for... how long? Too long. A few days, maybe three. Where's mama?

She's not sure when her parents will find her again, only that they promised they would, and she'd be ready when they did. And happy. She'd be very happy.

Until then, she'd just have to deal with living in the streets and stealing from gas stations. It's easier to grab little things, that much she has discovered, and it's easy to cause a scene if she needs to. Most people don't want to call the cops on a kid.

She's got a bag of chips in her hand and a plan to stuff it in her overalls, and then she suddenly has a problem. There's a man following her. Her first instinct is to look around for someone to ask for help - a woman, preferably, but she'd chosen this place because it was empty.

Plan B it is.

She spins on her heel with an accusatory glare.

( two word sentences. ) @copadjacent​ asked; “i’m listening.”

   Irene regrets coming all this way for .... whatever this has turned into be. There had been some mention of a lecture ( in the program or by whoever had been hosting it, she can’t remember ) but she had been under the impression that the speaker would be more interesting than this. She fakes a yawn, barely making an attempt to cover her mouth with her hand before she flips through the program. She’s hardly listening to the man with the microphone and only barely catches the comment. ‘ I’m sure he’ll be happy to know someone is. ’