#graybasestatic

[Closed RP | Mason and Colin - @santa-carla-dhampir ]

Colin’s luck was completely unfathomable- strictly speaking… he had none. That same group of loud.. reckless, sleazy surfers who’d jumped him not two nights since.. were again, chasing him down. Their words like a blade that had struck deep and hard into his fragile skin. Each comment, each sentence- no matter how grammatically incorrect— caused a piece of his heart to shatter. He knew how most people saw him.. how his father still saw him. That was someone he’d left in the past.. he wasn’t that person, not anymore.

These boys… they didn’t see that though. All they saw was a small, defenceless guy who didn’t know how to hold his own. Their thoughts being much too worse for him to actually ponder on.

He skidded down the pier, clutching his messenger bag desperately, his eyes locking onto that so wonderful oddities shop… the one he’d spend all yesterday afternoon perusing.

Slamming full force into the door he ran inside shutting it behind him, tears overwhelming him.. his cheeks now stained with hot salty beads of sadness. He couldn’t bear to look at himself. Closing his eyes he sat with his back against the door.. hoping they wouldn’t find him.. unaware of the presence already in the store.

[Closed RP | Marko and Colin- @boardwalk-anarchist ]

Santa Carla pulsed to life after midnight, flashing neon lights flooded out of the Arcades, the scent of the sea air mixed with the grease fried delicacies handed out from food booths. Music spilled out of every corner.. seeped into the pier.

People didn’t care- bikers and surfers prowled the boardwalk, missing posters scattered across attractions like wallpaper. Folks that lived here- they knew they belonged.

Colin didn’t.

He sat there, outside one of the games booths, a deep gothic literature book clasped between his gloved hands. His pin riddled messenger bag sat beside him at his boots. The poor thing hadn’t even been there a week and he’d managed to become a local target- particularly for the surfers.

Surf Nazi’s as the locals like to call them.

Colin however, believed there was a slither of good in everyone- he didn’t hold it against them, he never did. That’s just how he was programmed. Raised in a.. traditionally feminine household- he’d grown up learning his manners maketh.. the person.. in his case- now. The man.

Moving away with his mom had felt.. strange. She’d called it a fresh start- away from his father. The same father he’d been hiding from. He’d learned to make himself scarce.. invisible around him.

Humoured by a fresh start to a town donned ‘The murder capitol of the world’ Colin couldn’t help but be skeptical. He however kept an open mind for her..

He’d spent the afternoon wondering around the boardwalk.. trying to find oddities to pique his interest. His only luck being a tiny store at the edge of the pier, filled with creepy little trinkets and literature to his hearts desire.

One thing he couldn’t help but realise however- the unnerving amount of people that spoke about not staying out after dark.

Surely just a ruse to deter tourists.. testing his luck- Colin had decided to brave the night, staying out. He sat there, under the neon lights of the boardwalk, fiddling with his bracelets.. an autistic habit.. whilst reading his book. Enthralled by the scents.. the new faces and experiences.. he practically tuned out the ridiculing from ongoing locals.

Motorcycles.

Roaring came from down the sandy beach, making Colin flinch, the sound making him clasp his ears uncomfortably. Swallowing hard, he shoved his book onto his bag, his eyes flickering towards where they’d parked. By the stairs by the pier… shit- they were coming here. He truly was in no mood to get a beating.

[Closed RP | Orion and Colin- @cetus-lupeedus-luminary ]

The world completely lurched sideways.

Stumbling aimlessly through the trees, leaving a trail of blood in his wake, Colin cried out, his pasty hands clasping at the burning gashes in his stomach. His breath ragged.. coming in bursts that ripped at his throat causing dry whimpers to leave his mouth.

Every single step he took, a reminder of how ruined his insides had become. Cracking.. snapping.. the trees held secrets.

It had been her. The one girl he’d trusted- put his faith in.

Jennifer.

It couldn’t have been surely- It had to be some form of.. entity..

Despite his mauled state, Colin still couldn’t find it in his heart to press blame on the one girl he’d loved. It just couldn’t possibly have been her.

Her soft eyes, glittery pink lips.. her agreeable expression.

But the way she’d moved.. it had scared him to his core.. her jaw had dislocated, she’d ripped into his stomach.

Taking the opportunity, the trees silent around him, he leant up against the bark of an old trunk, his ringed fingers moving to trace the wound. Coming away slick with his crimson blood.

The adrenaline wore off.. he’d nearly made it to the pier.. his knees buckling under him- his head woozy.. he couldn’t keep going.

Not now.

Letting out one last pained gasp, he collapsed to the ground, his body limp and unresponsive. His arms.. his stomach.. his face bloodied from the succubi’s wrath.

[Closed RP- l Jennifer Check and Colin Gray]

The sign outside The Bijou flickered, for a campus theatre- sure it was rundown… had its quirks, but something about that enticed Colin. The idea of such an old building being passed through time- letting artists express their craft within its walls, it left him in awe each time he entered. He’d offered insistently to pick Jennifer up- each time she’d politely declined, he respected her boundaries.. hell he respected her more than most.

The Rocky Horror Picture Show, a sign glowed in red jagged letters- a clear rise in budget it seemed. Pulling up into the lot, he switched off the engine, quickly checking himself over.

Eyeliner, check.

Hairspray, check.

Jewellery, check.

Wallet, check and check.

The plan was to see the movie, have a blast with the girl he’d been soft launch pining over for years- and treat her to whatever he possibly could with his pay check. Sliding out of his car, he made his way to stand under the cover of the theatre, pushing his hair back nervously. Minutes passed… each time someone drove past.. each time he heard heels- his head shot up.

No jennifer- not yet at-least.

Why he ever thought this was a good idea- why he’d assumed she’d even want to see him was incomprehensible. He was quiet, artistic, reserved. She was beautiful, confident, popular. Nothing about them was remotely similar, the only connection being the passing of class notes and his completely whipped ideals of doing each essay or report for her.

From round the corner, he locked onto her almost immediately as she came into view. His right arm crossed over his stomach, his left raising in thought.

She actually showed up?

For once his sheer audacity had payed off.

‘Jennifer..’ He rushed over, quick, almost pathetic.. grovelling perhaps. Sliding off his jacket he held it over her head shielding her from the rain.

[Closed RP| Billy and Colin- @popularmxnster ]

Rain had settled over Woodsboro.. an unfortunately typical Autumn school day. Lunch hour had just begun and Colin had so warily made his way out of his advanced literature class— clutching his messenger bag so tightly to his chest.

His recent.. alliance? With Billy Loomis had just made him even more of a target, allegations of queer behaviour flying in his direction.. even more so than usual. He was used to being invisible.. sort of just blending in.

Billy had completely ruined that.

Making his way outside, he clutched his black rosary in his fishnet gloved palm. His eyes scanning the courtyard, desperate for an empty place.. somewhere away from the prying eye.

All that hope was distinguished when he saw Billy. Sat in the corner with his friends on the wall. A low.. exasperated sigh left him.. his chest heaving for a moment.

He’d spotted him- no getting out of it now. His expression, stunned, like a deer in headlights. Making his way over he just kept his head low.. and his breathing as quiet as possible.. as to not annoy anyone. The only sound, the sound of the chains on his pants.. the clinking of his jewellery.

‘Billy..’ He murmured, his right arm crossed over his stomach, the right held up into a position of thought as he fiddled nervously with his lip ring.