Human again and forever

As promised, Saint was at the proposed meeting spot at 7am; dressed in clothes that didn't fit, hair starting to curl around his ears and the nape of his neck. He twiddled a lighter in his long fingers, glancing around suspiciously.

For a moment, they almost didn't go. Just for a moment, because they really didn't have anything else to do.

They managed to dress as appropiately as they could for a casual hangout (if you could call it that). Of course, they brought at least three brands of cigarettes they kept meticously hidden.

Upon seeing them, they simply spoke to make themselves known. "Hey." No need to ask for formalities. They didn't want or need that.

Bell handed the other a cigarette box.

Saint took it silently, pulling out a cigarette and holding it between his teeth as he held the lighter up. It was a zippo- silver, scuffed up, something unintelligible carved into it.

"What did you want?" He asked. There was no- no malice behind the blunt tone in his voice; he had a mission, a question he needed answered, and that was that.

Bell hummed under their breath, arms wrapping around their body while staring somewhere else but Saint.

"Tell me your reason first and I will tell you mine second." Like someone who had gone through what they have, there's a raspiness and tiredness from their tone. Not quite monotone, rather disinterested in an unintentional way, of course.

Saint allowed the words to hang in the air a moment, blowing out a plume of smoke. He'd never liked cigarettes in reality; only smoked them because it started a conversation, gave his hands something to do other than fidgeting with the wire that hung too heavy around his wrist.

"You said I interest you," he said at last. Already, his tone, his voice, was already shaping itself; moulding itself to theirs. An echo, almost. "How do you know who I am?"

"I don't." Bell was perceptive, had been trained to be. They noticed the small things about others like a cautious animal trying to figure out if the thing in front of them was hostile. It was a defense mechanism part of their paranoia. "Not in a personal way, if that is what you are concerned about. There is just something... Unique about you. I cannot put my finger on it." Or they could, yet chose not to say it. Lying had also been part of the job description for them.

"It is not a bad or good thing."

Saint tilted his head, took a long drag from the cigarette. "You must know something to be this- this interested." He flicked ash off, translucent grey eyes still trained on the person in front of him. He knew nothing about them. His fingers itched; he flexed them, made an effort not to even think about the wire still at his wrist. "And you must have found me somehow. I make a- a conscious effort to stay hidden."

"Word gets around. By word, I am saying that I have learned to eavesdrop." They look down at the falling ashes from their cigarette, stomping on them to hide the evidence under their boots. "Quiet. You sound like I'm a hitman." Bell rolled their eyes, simultaneously taking a drag with what little skinned they showed. The mask had become a habit for them to wear, it made them not see the memories the mirror brings.

"I do not have anyone to tell this to, you can sleep well. I am merely curious about who you are. Who you really are." Like before, they were cautiously cryptic about what they explained or not. Just because Saint interested them didn't mean they would let their guard down

"Who I really am," Saint echoed, softer, curious- though he wouldn't let this curiosity make him careless. "I don't even know who you are, and here you are, asking me to trust you enough to- what- answer some questions?" He tilted his head to the side, the light catching his translucent grey-yellow eyes as he flicked ash from the end of his cigarette. "So, tell me. Who do you think I really am?"

He did have a point there. Honestly, it was kind of stupid to get him to open up without sharing some of themselves first... well, whatever remained of them.

They shrugged, huffing through their nose. It took them a second to speak their mind. "I think you are broken." Bell realized that sounded way harsher than intended. They didn't seem apologetic for it. "And I think broken people could at least stick together. Two wrongs make a right, yes?" Once more, they settled another cigarette for themselves, more to simply fidget and have something to do while talking.

"This does not make us friends. Acquaintances at best."

Saint didn't respond for what felt like a very long time. He dropped his cigarette, crushed what was left of it into the ground with the heel of his boot. The idea that he was broken was one he often considered; after all, he must have been defective in some way to have done what he did to him.

"And what makes you a- a wrong?" He queried, tilting his head slightly to the side.

That question made them scoff, slightly shaking their head as if Saint said the wrong answer to something that was supposed to have a right or wrong answer. "I am not in the mood for that story. What you need to know is that I am not a good man." They dropped their shoulders, turning to the other. "I did not used to be, at least. I did nothing but fucking up. Over and over."

As promised, Saint was at the proposed meeting spot at 7am; dressed in clothes that didn't fit, hair starting to curl around his ears and the nape of his neck. He twiddled a lighter in his long fingers, glancing around suspiciously.

For a moment, they almost didn't go. Just for a moment, because they really didn't have anything else to do.

They managed to dress as appropiately as they could for a casual hangout (if you could call it that). Of course, they brought at least three brands of cigarettes they kept meticously hidden.

Upon seeing them, they simply spoke to make themselves known. "Hey." No need to ask for formalities. They didn't want or need that.

Bell handed the other a cigarette box.

Saint took it silently, pulling out a cigarette and holding it between his teeth as he held the lighter up. It was a zippo- silver, scuffed up, something unintelligible carved into it.

"What did you want?" He asked. There was no- no malice behind the blunt tone in his voice; he had a mission, a question he needed answered, and that was that.

Bell hummed under their breath, arms wrapping around their body while staring somewhere else but Saint.

"Tell me your reason first and I will tell you mine second." Like someone who had gone through what they have, there's a raspiness and tiredness from their tone. Not quite monotone, rather disinterested in an unintentional way, of course.

Saint allowed the words to hang in the air a moment, blowing out a plume of smoke. He'd never liked cigarettes in reality; only smoked them because it started a conversation, gave his hands something to do other than fidgeting with the wire that hung too heavy around his wrist.

"You said I interest you," he said at last. Already, his tone, his voice, was already shaping itself; moulding itself to theirs. An echo, almost. "How do you know who I am?"

"I don't." Bell was perceptive, had been trained to be. They noticed the small things about others like a cautious animal trying to figure out if the thing in front of them was hostile. It was a defense mechanism part of their paranoia. "Not in a personal way, if that is what you are concerned about. There is just something... Unique about you. I cannot put my finger on it." Or they could, yet chose not to say it. Lying had also been part of the job description for them.

"It is not a bad or good thing."

Saint tilted his head, took a long drag from the cigarette. "You must know something to be this- this interested." He flicked ash off, translucent grey eyes still trained on the person in front of him. He knew nothing about them. His fingers itched; he flexed them, made an effort not to even think about the wire still at his wrist. "And you must have found me somehow. I make a- a conscious effort to stay hidden."

"Word gets around. By word, I am saying that I have learned to eavesdrop." They look down at the falling ashes from their cigarette, stomping on them to hide the evidence under their boots. "Quiet. You sound like I'm a hitman." Bell rolled their eyes, simultaneously taking a drag with what little skinned they showed. The mask had become a habit for them to wear, it made them not see the memories the mirror brings.

"I do not have anyone to tell this to, you can sleep well. I am merely curious about who you are. Who you really are." Like before, they were cautiously cryptic about what they explained or not. Just because Saint interested them didn't mean they would let their guard down

"Who I really am," Saint echoed, softer, curious- though he wouldn't let this curiosity make him careless. "I don't even know who you are, and here you are, asking me to trust you enough to- what- answer some questions?" He tilted his head to the side, the light catching his translucent grey-yellow eyes as he flicked ash from the end of his cigarette. "So, tell me. Who do you think I really am?"

#i forgor to reply #Bleh x3

He did have a point there. Honestly, it was kind of stupid to get him to open up without sharing some of themselves first... well, whatever remained of them.

They shrugged, huffing through their nose. It took them a second to speak their mind. "I think you are broken." Bell realized that sounded way harsher than intended. They didn't seem apologetic for it. "And I think broken people could at least stick together. Two wrongs make a right, yes?" Once more, they settled another cigarette for themselves, more to simply fidget and have something to do while talking.

"This does not make us friends. Acquaintances at best."

As promised, Saint was at the proposed meeting spot at 7am; dressed in clothes that didn't fit, hair starting to curl around his ears and the nape of his neck. He twiddled a lighter in his long fingers, glancing around suspiciously.

For a moment, they almost didn't go. Just for a moment, because they really didn't have anything else to do.

They managed to dress as appropiately as they could for a casual hangout (if you could call it that). Of course, they brought at least three brands of cigarettes they kept meticously hidden.

Upon seeing them, they simply spoke to make themselves known. "Hey." No need to ask for formalities. They didn't want or need that.

Bell handed the other a cigarette box.

Saint took it silently, pulling out a cigarette and holding it between his teeth as he held the lighter up. It was a zippo- silver, scuffed up, something unintelligible carved into it.

"What did you want?" He asked. There was no- no malice behind the blunt tone in his voice; he had a mission, a question he needed answered, and that was that.

Bell hummed under their breath, arms wrapping around their body while staring somewhere else but Saint.

"Tell me your reason first and I will tell you mine second." Like someone who had gone through what they have, there's a raspiness and tiredness from their tone. Not quite monotone, rather disinterested in an unintentional way, of course.

Saint allowed the words to hang in the air a moment, blowing out a plume of smoke. He'd never liked cigarettes in reality; only smoked them because it started a conversation, gave his hands something to do other than fidgeting with the wire that hung too heavy around his wrist.

"You said I interest you," he said at last. Already, his tone, his voice, was already shaping itself; moulding itself to theirs. An echo, almost. "How do you know who I am?"

"I don't." Bell was perceptive, had been trained to be. They noticed the small things about others like a cautious animal trying to figure out if the thing in front of them was hostile. It was a defense mechanism part of their paranoia. "Not in a personal way, if that is what you are concerned about. There is just something... Unique about you. I cannot put my finger on it." Or they could, yet chose not to say it. Lying had also been part of the job description for them.

"It is not a bad or good thing."

Saint tilted his head, took a long drag from the cigarette. "You must know something to be this- this interested." He flicked ash off, translucent grey eyes still trained on the person in front of him. He knew nothing about them. His fingers itched; he flexed them, made an effort not to even think about the wire still at his wrist. "And you must have found me somehow. I make a- a conscious effort to stay hidden."

#ask bell #cod ask blog #bell cod #roleplay blog #bell bocw

"Word gets around. By word, I am saying that I have learned to eavesdrop." They look down at the falling ashes from their cigarette, stomping on them to hide the evidence under their boots. "Quiet. You sound like I'm a hitman." Bell rolled their eyes, simultaneously taking a drag with what little skinned they showed. The mask had become a habit for them to wear, it made them not see the memories the mirror brings.

"I do not have anyone to tell this to, you can sleep well. I am merely curious about who you are. Who you really are." Like before, they were cautiously cryptic about what they explained or not. Just because Saint interested them didn't mean they would let their guard down

What do you think about the "other you's" going around here?

I cannot get through my head the fact that, an alternative "me", happened to date... Another version of "me". Greatest example of self-love, or Narcissus behavior.

The rest? Little to no care.

As promised, Saint was at the proposed meeting spot at 7am; dressed in clothes that didn't fit, hair starting to curl around his ears and the nape of his neck. He twiddled a lighter in his long fingers, glancing around suspiciously.

For a moment, they almost didn't go. Just for a moment, because they really didn't have anything else to do.

They managed to dress as appropiately as they could for a casual hangout (if you could call it that). Of course, they brought at least three brands of cigarettes they kept meticously hidden.

Upon seeing them, they simply spoke to make themselves known. "Hey." No need to ask for formalities. They didn't want or need that.

Bell handed the other a cigarette box.

Saint took it silently, pulling out a cigarette and holding it between his teeth as he held the lighter up. It was a zippo- silver, scuffed up, something unintelligible carved into it.

"What did you want?" He asked. There was no- no malice behind the blunt tone in his voice; he had a mission, a question he needed answered, and that was that.

Bell hummed under their breath, arms wrapping around their body while staring somewhere else but Saint.

"Tell me your reason first and I will tell you mine second." Like someone who had gone through what they have, there's a raspiness and tiredness from their tone. Not quite monotone, rather disinterested in an unintentional way, of course.

Saint allowed the words to hang in the air a moment, blowing out a plume of smoke. He'd never liked cigarettes in reality; only smoked them because it started a conversation, gave his hands something to do other than fidgeting with the wire that hung too heavy around his wrist.

"You said I interest you," he said at last. Already, his tone, his voice, was already shaping itself; moulding itself to theirs. An echo, almost. "How do you know who I am?"

"I don't." Bell was perceptive, had been trained to be. They noticed the small things about others like a cautious animal trying to figure out if the thing in front of them was hostile. It was a defense mechanism part of their paranoia. "Not in a personal way, if that is what you are concerned about. There is just something... Unique about you. I cannot put my finger on it." Or they could, yet chose not to say it. Lying had also been part of the job description for them.

"It is not a bad or good thing."

As promised, Saint was at the proposed meeting spot at 7am; dressed in clothes that didn't fit, hair starting to curl around his ears and the nape of his neck. He twiddled a lighter in his long fingers, glancing around suspiciously.

For a moment, they almost didn't go. Just for a moment, because they really didn't have anything else to do.

They managed to dress as appropiately as they could for a casual hangout (if you could call it that). Of course, they brought at least three brands of cigarettes they kept meticously hidden.

Upon seeing them, they simply spoke to make themselves known. "Hey." No need to ask for formalities. They didn't want or need that.

Bell handed the other a cigarette box.

Saint took it silently, pulling out a cigarette and holding it between his teeth as he held the lighter up. It was a zippo- silver, scuffed up, something unintelligible carved into it.

"What did you want?" He asked. There was no- no malice behind the blunt tone in his voice; he had a mission, a question he needed answered, and that was that.

#ask bell #cod ask blog #roleplay blog #bell cod #roleplay ask blog #bell bocw

Bell hummed under their breath, arms wrapping around their body while staring somewhere else but Saint.

"Tell me your reason first and I will tell you mine second." Like someone who had gone through what they have, there's a raspiness and tiredness from their tone. Not quite monotone, rather disinterested in an unintentional way, of course.

As promised, Saint was at the proposed meeting spot at 7am; dressed in clothes that didn't fit, hair starting to curl around his ears and the nape of his neck. He twiddled a lighter in his long fingers, glancing around suspiciously.

For a moment, they almost didn't go. Just for a moment, because they really didn't have anything else to do.

They managed to dress as appropiately as they could for a casual hangout (if you could call it that). Of course, they brought at least three brands of cigarettes they kept meticously hidden.

Upon seeing them, they simply spoke to make themselves known. "Hey." No need to ask for formalities. They didn't want or need that.

Bell handed the other a cigarette box.

enakogan

i am EVIL ena. I'm YOU but I have a LOVING family and THERAPY and I DON'T have DADDY ISSUES

Jackass, I had loving parents. I just. Lost them young.

Bold to assume I don't have mommy issues too.

#this has my bestie Unfreakseus written all over it....#<- 👎#ooc

You said to give you a ring. I can come any time.

You know who this is.

I'm free every day except monday. Just set up a time and a day that works for you.

And bring a lighter, I do not like sharing mine.

Tuesday, 7 am. Be there.

#ask bell #cod ask blog #bell cod #roleplay blog #bell bocw

Will be.

You said to give you a ring. I can come any time.

You know who this is.

I'm free every day except monday. Just set up a time and a day that works for you.

And bring a lighter, I do not like sharing mine.

Hey. I understand that we might not know each other, but you interest me. I do not trust you, and neither should you trust me, but I can sympathize with you.

If you ever need assistance, or if you just need a smoking buddy, I will be there.

@■■-■■■■

Good to know I- fascinate someone, I suppose.

I might take you up on the smoking offer. I have some questions.

I have a handful of brands for your taste, and time. Answers? Depends on the question.

Just give me a ring and I will set up a date.

I do not care about being accepted again. I have learned to not depend on anyone, just myself. I have been doing fine ever since.

I'm all I have left.

I know ya're dads enemy but.... oh well...I'd like to invite ya for dinner.

Ya don't deserve to be all alone.

Friends are good to have, ones you don't depend on, but the ones who make your life brighter

Ah, it is him you mean? I cannot say I'm not at least suspicious. Then again, I always am.

Fuck it. Sure, I would be glad to be invited. If he will be there too, it is best he's ten yards away from me. Just because I have learned to be at peace doesn't mean I will not tear him to shreds if needed to be the case. Or just leave. Perhaps it is cruel, but this is surviving for me.

And, if you need a chef, I am always up to nothing but rotting.

Nah dad won't be there. I know enough 'bout you two to not let you be in the same room, 's just me bein' nice 'n hopin' to mend at least some part of the stuff he has fucked up.... But ya didn't deserve that to be honest...

I see. Then I suppose there is no harm in stopping by. Not like I have much to do by myself.

And I guess that is nicer of you than I expected. Still, I am neutral about how I feel about this.

I do appreciate that, though.

I'd love to host you. When I think 'bout it. I think the random cat in the barn got babies now, so those would be worth showin'

Noted. I do like cats.

Hope to see them soon.

I do not care about being accepted again. I have learned to not depend on anyone, just myself. I have been doing fine ever since.

I'm all I have left.

I know ya're dads enemy but.... oh well...I'd like to invite ya for dinner.

Ya don't deserve to be all alone.

Friends are good to have, ones you don't depend on, but the ones who make your life brighter

Ah, it is him you mean? I cannot say I'm not at least suspicious. Then again, I always am.

Fuck it. Sure, I would be glad to be invited. If he will be there too, it is best he's ten yards away from me. Just because I have learned to be at peace doesn't mean I will not tear him to shreds if needed to be the case. Or just leave. Perhaps it is cruel, but this is surviving for me.

And, if you need a chef, I am always up to nothing but rotting.

Nah dad won't be there. I know enough 'bout you two to not let you be in the same room, 's just me bein' nice 'n hopin' to mend at least some part of the stuff he has fucked up.... But ya didn't deserve that to be honest...

I see. Then I suppose there is no harm in stopping by. Not like I have much to do by myself.

And I guess that is nicer of you than I expected. Still, I am neutral about how I feel about this.

I do appreciate that, though.

I do not care about being accepted again. I have learned to not depend on anyone, just myself. I have been doing fine ever since.

I'm all I have left.

I know ya're dads enemy but.... oh well...I'd like to invite ya for dinner.

Ya don't deserve to be all alone.

Friends are good to have, ones you don't depend on, but the ones who make your life brighter