IN PIECES?

[affectorator-blog]

HORNHEADD 

Eyebrows rise briefly in surprise. What’s the possibility of finding another blind fellow? With a cane in front of him and both of his hands gripping on it, Matt offers the man a weak smile despite the other’s blindness; purely out of habit.

           ‘’I might not be the person to ask. Y’know, with my blindness I doubt I can be much help.’’ He gives a slight shrug. He’s got to play the blind act in his daylight persona. ‘’But I sort of know the place around. Could lead you a bit if you want to.’’

             “Woah. Damn, my bad.” This is rare. He’s never looked it up but Santiago’s pretty damn sure the non-sighted population of New York is not very dense. He wavers a little on his feet, hands reaching out to take advantage of his barstool’s bolts in the floor. “Just keep me from walkin’ into traffic and I’ll give you sixty bucks.”

[trappmoutharchive-deactivated20]

[affectorator-blog]

trappmouth :

                                                LOOK AT                                                HOW MY                                         BODY WRITHES.                    I MUST BE FULL OF WORMS WORMS                      WORMS WORMS WORMS WORMS                     WORMS WORMS WORMS WORMS                     WORMS WORMS WORMS WORMS

[affectorator-blog]

BADRITUALS

         ‘ Sounds like a wild time, ’ he says with a short laugh. ‘ How bad are we talkin’, though? Bad enough to be stuck in wherever y’all were based or did you guys tour? ’Cause, honestly, I wanna hear all about the Warbucks’n Family tour. ’

              “Our best gig was a benefit concert. President Clinton showed up; it was pretty rad.” Cringe-worthy memories of a skinny, frizzy-haired fifteen year old can still make for a good smile. “Mean, kinda fell apart when they lost their guitarist, but I still talk to some of the guys.” 

[affectorator-blog]

INTERDIMENSIONA

        art let’s the other’s voice remain in a vacuum, it remains for a while in a void before he realises that he should interrupt the silence and actually introduce himself. though the whole nyc’s renowned artist thing always seems to get in the way of these interactions, he’s a person god damn say something. “yeah, i’m art or arthur. jus’ having a look before i head home.”  

             “Oh. Alright.” His sister’s gone off to find Mathias, the husband he’s still yet to properly meet, so Santiago’s just been existing in space for a good fifteen minutes, unsure of the parameters of the gallery or if he’ll knock over one of his own sculptures with one wrong move. “Hey, Art--- they got tables in here?”

[affectorator-blog]

I N T E R D I M E N S I O N A

          morning coffee, black no sugar no milk no cream. a spoon feeds into the liquid abyss sprouting a vortex to another dimension. arthur’s daily routine consisted of this, then a simple walk through clustered bodies and into work. though recognition comes to a face, not physically known, but through works of art.  a constellation wraps around his eyes and the mutant could only stare in admiration, his pupils widen at the sight of him. it’s him.

              It’s a spartan gallery, sporting just a few scattered sculptures born out of his minimal labor of 2015. A lazy year and not one he regrets; the break was much needed both from the psychological stress of traveling every few weeks and the bombardment of the press. Not to mention his success tends to be cyclical. Sandy feels the warmth of a body at his back and his ears twitch with his head. “Somebody there?”               

[affectorator-blog]

F L O W E R S L E E V E

            he does as he’s told, chin tipped up as if to somehow prove something to himself. a bit of pride, he thinks. panzarino curse. not to say he feels threatened  in any way right now, but being nude in front of a complete stranger will give you something to turn your nose up about; blind or not.  

            ❛ alright, ❜   he says very simply, cadence agreeable and unperturbed. he sets his hands to just barely ghost fingertips over his kneecaps, spreads his legs a little. taps the soles of his feet against the bottom rung appropriately.

              Sandy straddles his own stool after bringing it close to Chuck’s knees. The space around him has been mapped out over and over to the point of obsession and he moves freely, as if his eyes aren’t completely useless to him. He spent months after moving in counting steps and memorizing the spatial relations of his furniture with his brother. The need for a space where he was in complete control of his surroundings was overwhelming. A necessity.                “Can I have your hands, Chuck? Just put them in mine.”

[affectorator-blog]

B A D R I T U A L S :

       ‘ Awesome, thanks. ’ They’ve been married for nearly a decade. Deke really doesn’t know why he’s asking for pointers but, hey, he just wants it to be perfect. ‘ –So, you played guitar, huh? ’

             “Mhm. Bluegrass in a shitty band called...uh---Warbucks and Family.” A scoff, slightly pained. Any reminder of a scrawny, four-eleven, fourteen year old Santiago Reyes is usually accompanied with a well-deserved cringe. 

[affectorator-blog]

B A D R I T U A L S

        ‘ Gotcha, ’ he nods, then moves on. ‘ You suggestin’ I go back to my award winnin’ macaroni art days? –Kidding. Would a romantic dinner count as homemade? ’

               “Absolutely. Anything that takes effort. Bonus points for remembering her favorite food.” He won’t mention this is coming from a man who hasn’t properly dated in a years. His advice is still valid. 

[affectorator-blog]

B A D R I T U A L S

        ‘ Rusty, huh? Ah, well. Shame. Gonna have to figure out some other romantic gesture for the wife– ’

             That blows a laugh out of him. “Uh, no. Just blind. If you’re trying for romantic, you might want something more substantial. Something homemade, childish as that sounds.”

[affectorator-blog]

B A D R I T U A L S 

@affectorator / starter call.

         ‘ Hey– you know how to play guitar? Just askin’ ’cuz I wanna learn, is all. ’

            “Used to. Don’t think I’d be any use to you.”

[justrpmemesandmusings]

Send me a faceclaim and I’ll tell you who they’d be in my muse’s life as a NPC

[affectorator-blog]

T H E O D I C T

Santiago’s apartment becomes smaller in the rear-view mirror, and the lines in the road began to blend into a smooth yellow needle. “Gallery opening.” They confirm, once their mind dragged itself out of a conversation with itself (all internal crises weigh more in Cyrillic.) “Nice place. Nice food.”

                “Okay.” That doesn’t do much to assuage the nerves and Sandy firmly plants his feet against the floorboards. Hands curling around the headrest of the seat in front of him, Sandy whistles through his teeth. “I don’t have my wallet; can’t pay for anything. Just sayin’.”

[affectorator-blog]

“Is this how little you think of me?”

HEATED ARGUMENT STARTERS : ACCEPTING

                 “What?”                   His ears twitch; he twitches in surprise. She can’t be serious.                 “You can’t be serious, Em, I—- I just forgot, okay? I fell asleep and— do you really think I’d intentionally skip out on you? You think I’d do that to someone I care about?” Sandy has to put a hand to his head and think for a moment. He knows why she says things like this and he knows they’re neither of their faults— but the hurt still blooms in his chest. 

[interdimensiona-blog]

[affectorator-blog]

interdimensiona :

                                              SOMEWHERE IN-BETWEEN INTERDIMENSIONAL SPACE

[yourmusings]

RP starters: Heated argument.

[affectorator-blog]

yourmusings :

content warning: death baiting.

“Are you even listening to me?”

“Leave. Leave right now.”

“What more do you want?!”

“I really wish you were never born.”

“I hate you!”

“Can you just fuck off already?”

“Shut up! Just.. Shut up!”

“All you do is whine.”

“What the hell is wrong with you?!”

“I can’t do this anymore. Not with you.”

“How did that feel?”

“Oh my god, I don’t care!”

“No wonder nobody likes you.”

“Is this how little you think of me?”

“That hurt you son of a bitch…”

“Pack your shit and go. Get the fuck out of my sight!”

“Leave me alone!”

“I can break your nose if I want to.”

“Are you going to cry now?”

“I wouldn’t miss you. Nobody would.”

“You’re so pathetic!”

“I won’t forget this.”

“I’m going to break your jaw if you keep talking!”

“Why can’t you listen to a single thing I say?!”

“I have a right to be angry.”

“This would have never happened if you wouldn’t exist.”

“Get out of my life!”

“You’re nothing! Did you hear me?! Nothing!”

“You ruined everything.”

[affectorator-blog]

             There’s five carefully lined glasses in front of him, placed just so that when he makes his typical, wide gestures with his hands he won’t send them crashing to the floor. Or when he leans over and finds the shoulder of the patron beside him with some difficulty.              “Uh,” he begins, a little fuzzy. “I, uh, I can’t see, right? Could you lead me home? I’m not far from here and I’ll, hmm--- pay you, or something? I think I have cash.”       

& . @hornheadd     

[affectorator-blog]

            He squirms uncomfortably, hand feeling out the edges of the car window, then the door, which he doesn’t try to open. “Uh. Hey, listen, I didn’t sign off on this. Where’re we going?” 

            I need to call my family and tell them where to find my body. 

& . @theodict