Jan 1, 2024
Roman and Harley a Discussion.
If not friend, why friend shaped???
@silverjetsystm, @echoestm
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Roman and Harley a Discussion.
If not friend, why friend shaped???
@silverjetsystm, @echoestm
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"if you could snap your fingers right now and be anywhere you want, where would you pick?" Somewhere exotic, Sam bets. Or is that only Aunty Nicky? See, this is why it's better to ask than assume. She peeks over, her smile encouraging to speak freely and ridiculously if need be. It's just them girls, hanging out, no pressure. "I'd pick Puerto Rico. Good food, cool beaches, and really close to New York." (echoestm, Sam, Clarity-Love.)
THIS. | no longer accepting. ( @echoestm )
She's staring up into nothingness when the question burst the hazy bubble in which her thoughts resided, Clarity's attention focusing now on Sam. "Hm," she hums softly as she thinks on it. Even if her friend wants a goofy answer, Clarity's giving it serious thought.
"If you go, can I come too? Sounds great." Another soft sound, this time more of a dreamy laugh before she turns over on her side, head propped up on her hand.
"I think I'd like to go Japan. I'm sure it would be overstimulating, but the country's beautiful and full of history, and it's also so ahead of us in technology... It would be so interesting to see a place like that."
Β "Β πππππΒ Β ππΒ Β ππππΒ βΒ (sam, billy, echoestm)
Smash or pass? - @echoestm - Always accepting
Neither one of them should be playing this sort of game. They clung to their sanity with clenched, blood stained hands and possessiveness was one of their fatal flaws. This game could only end one of two ways..
Fortunately they were surrounded by coworkers and customers within the bar. A nightly routine turned tricky when he was dragged into this game by them. It wasn't like they hid their relationship but they also hadn't come outright to confirm it either. He knew it was harmless pointing by those involved and yet..
He hesitates before he answers, letting his eyes linger over the dark haired woman, watching her and her alone. "Smash." He hums thoughtfully after that pregnant pause and grins as she narrows her eyes. Tonight would be fun.
The straddled a fine line, the Loomis', walking a tight rope that both shrunk and enlarged their world in equal measure. Their complex was safe, secure but it wasn't cut off from the world and furthermore.. He was a spoiled kid on the outskirts of Hollywood. Daddy an entertainment lawyer. He was connected and not connected all at once. That's how Roman found him, that's how Roman really found Her but those were thoughts he didn't wish to sink into tonight. It was Sunday. Euphoria day. And a date night with his eldest daughter. Some might think it odd, a father watching a show that featured so much sex, drugs and teenage drama but there's where the tight rope really comes into play. He knows the world, he sees it for what it was and he grew up in a Woodsboro that didn't care a local housewife was turning boys into cheap tricks, they just.. Didn't believe, didn't want to make waves or some other bullshit. But Billy was statistic of their failure. Him and Stu. Randy.. And a handful of boys that never came forward. Not that he and his partner hadn't, no really.. Anyways.. That's one of many reasons he sits with her during all the more adult movies and television shows. She needs to know what's real and what's fake. He knows she'd watch it with or without him.
And he needed her to be comfortable with the topics the show covered so that, god fucking forbid, anyone ever tried to harm her.. She'd know she could tell him. But it was more than just another layer of protection he casts over her. It's something more, something deeper. Sam's his kid. He loves her. He wants to be apart of the things she's interested in. To share moments of disbelief and outrage and shock as they roll through her. He had missed too many firsts with her. He refused to miss any more. Tonight though.. Tonight he wished he wasn't trying his hardest not to be a failure of a father. Because tonight he thinks is the first time he's ever truly scared his daughter. It's good. It's like every other Sunday. The cast was playing their roles to perfection and then Cassie opens her mouth to defend herself and her misdeeds with Nate and.. She says something that throws him into a complete, full blown melt down. He's holding a glass of coke one second and the next; "Her dad died, ours just stopped calling. I don't know which is worse."
The glass shatters in his palm, he doesn't even feel it, nor does he notice Sammie's relation from beside him. She freezes like a deer in headlights. He sees it. But he can't do anything about the rage that spills out of him in waves. He manages to pause the show, he manages to trail blood of their entertainment room to the kitchen. He manages to put time and space between them but she's a fucking kid; his kid and she's worried. He's already laying waste to the island in the center of the room, screaming outrage and grief and pain. He doesn't even see her. He doesn't notice she's come to witness him as the monster they still call Ghostface. He'll always be a monster in his own mind, it's what She had turned him into, what this city had turned him into but.. Sammie.. She had only seen the weirdo who stole her apple slices, her fries. The man she came to call daddy. But this.. A fit of white hot anger that was laying waste to the kitchen, madness sputtering from his lips as he ranted about how it had to be some blonde bitch on television that gets it, to put words to the thoughts that had haunted him longer than he cared to admit. How some stranger in a writer's chair had finally gotten it. Finally seen the sanity in his madness. "Maureen didn't leave Sid. I took her out. I took her life like the one she stole from me! But no.. No, even when the truth is staring you in the face you wanna play blind, dumb and deaf. Wanna climb onto that.." Chris is suddenly in his face, a hand across his face, pain finally snapping him from the flashbacks and the rage they always seemed to triggered. She's talking but even though the words were directed at him they weren't meant for him. And it's then he realizes and his gaze shifts to his perfect daughter. She finches away, out of the room and he doesn't even blame her. She's never seen him like this. Never seen him cry. Never seen him scream. And after tonight he doubts she'll ever be able to unsee the wounded boy who never really got to grow up. He's laughing bitterly as he slides to the floor, Chris's arms going around him even as she calls Stu. He's sobbing now, face pressed into her chest as he mourns and hates himself, the world. "Even in death she still takes everything away from me."
π¨(billy, sam, echoestm)
Billy's Having Nightmares - @echoestm - Always Accepting
She's ten feet away from him, buck-120 bloody in her hand and an ache blooming to life across his right wrist. The cloud of sleep clings heavily but as it slowly slips from his gaze the full scene comes into focus. Blood stains the sheets, the slash across his flesh bleeding freely as she stands transfixed and at the ready. He sees her tremble, just barely and he hisses a curse. But she isn't looking at him. She's staring down at the bed and he slowly follows her gaze. It isn't often he finds himself proud of someone who had just injured him but when the cold steel burns against the softness of the fabric covering him.. He was proud. She had faced a threat, someone she covered for and dealt with it beautifully. He can only guess what's happened. A nightmare, one that had him reaching for the closet weapon and unconscious attack. He doesn't see any marks on her gratefully. She had quick reflects, like any good soldier and acted in kind to the threat he had posed. Hands held up, he slips from the edge of the bed. "You good? I hurt you?" He still doesn't care about himself. She's scared. She has every right to be. She's already slept with one monster that pretended to be human. At least Billy had always been up front with her, he didn't get into this relationship by chance. He had chosen her, like she had chosen him. They were in this together. His voice seems to calm her, he watches the tension leave her body is slow waves so he keeps talking. "Wanna put that down? Or you thinking what I'm thinking? Turn bloody sheets into a crime scene of our own makin'?"
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Somewhere along a wall on Fourth or something. . .
Sam inhales deeply from precious cigarette and blows it back out prettily, lovely cloud of nicotine smoke perfuming the air between them. She's supposed to have quit. The city makes it easy. Life makes it hard. Sometimes, it's the only thing even somewhat allowed that hits the spot.
"You skipped a pretty important science class. Or you read too much DC. Or... you spent that science class reading DC." Those seem the logical options, applicable to wholly illogical man as measured by tired and wary woman. "So, listen up. It might actually help something."
"The first law of thermodynamics says, like, energy can neither be created nor destroyed. Not really. Only transformed, or transferred. Case in point, way too many religions with beliefs about coming back, circling around, whatever. Ghosts too. Things that linger." He knows. He shares the same imperfect planet that she does, and for all intents and purposes seems as bothered about most of it as the standard agnostic or atheist.
"You want to be the J to his Bat so bad you're trying to blot out the sun with a finger. It's not gonna happen. You can give yourself a blindspot but you're not making any eclipses for anybody else."
"Not-J... what would you even do with that car if you caught it? Ledger never figured it out, I don't think you would either. Not for long. Definitely not permanently. Perma-Chaos with him at your side? Let me tell you, one Hollywood former teen to another... a coke habit would last longer and disillusion you faster. He's almost forty. You're not going to be his First Love, he probably had one before he made it out of elementary. You're not even going to be his Second. You're not going to be The One or his Father or his Maker. By this age he's had all of those and then some, probably. In more areas than you or I know about."
"You're not going to unmake him or his history and if you built a time machine and did? You wouldn't have him, and then what would be the point?"
"So welcome to the second-fiddle band. Grab a roster application, submit it legibly, and we'll get back to you. You might just discover you can still be important to him without putting a knife or chainsaw to everyone he's already afraid enough to care about."
"Or don't. I don't care. My buck-120 is bigger than your switchblade and I know how to use it. He'll spend the rest of his days looking over his shoulder, wondering what ever happened to you while I make cooing noises to make him feel better about it and he'll never know." (echoestm, sam, z)
He hates her instantly, he thinks, for reasons he's sure no one would be able to pinpoint. They'd think he hates her for the relationship she's forged with Moonknight and the hold she has on his heart. Nothing could be further from the truth. His delusions take care of that, he knows with misguided and cloud tunnel vision that he's that bastard's soulmate; his truest companion and the only one who could truly know him. If such things were real, often he wonders if they were, then he and Moonknight were a single soul torn apart. No.
That isn't the problem. What she hadn't said, what she had vocalized, is where his new round hate stemmed from. He doesn't need to hear her speak to know.. She knows. That she had figured him out long before anyone else could. Marc Spector didn't even suspect. Reese hadn't pieced together the information that had just been sitting in front of her. And Soldier was just an idiot bully who didn't think for himself. Sam on the other hand had clocked him in spare moments spent in each other's company. She knew his secret. Not his name, not where he came from but something more damning. She knew he was young. Younger than he looked. Younger than he sold himself to be. A little older than the age Reese had died at but not by much and therefore.. In her eyes just a kid.
He hated her for it. Yet it gives him pause, just enough that he sits silently as she speaks. Beneath his mask his mouth is thinned into a sour line but his gaze remained on her. Did anything she said matter? Did any of it ring true or hit too close to home? Fuck yes. Every word she had spoken was like a stab to his heart. She had gotten that right too. His love, obsessed and possessive, was something he didn't know how to handle. And even with all the threats in the world, he hadn't actually pulled the trigger on anyone he truly cared for. Not enough to kill them, to take them from them. A part of him knew it wouldn't give him what he wanted and another part of him knew he wasn't even sure what he really wanted. Fuck. He was just a dog chasing a car. He's opening him mouth to deny everything she's just said, refusing to give her the satisfaction of knowing she's nailed him to the ground. Then she threatens him. In a way that makes him blink in stunned shock but makes him wonder if he needs to take a very cold shower. He's never underestimated her but he's never thought she could be a threat to him. He knows better now. That one statement pure sexual tension and violence. "Maybe I will submit that paperwork.." He shoves his mask up and over his nose, his hand slipping out to steal the cancerous stick from her fingers to bring to his own lips. He takes a puff as he brushes skin to skin and grins. "You sure sound like a fun ride."
// Lasher telling Katherine Mayfair she did okay actually as a gaslighting method, to make her comply but stillβ¦
*I am dragged stage right and shot by Julien Mayfair; which I brought on myself.*
