from between. @consumant-blog - Tumblr Blog

sorry i haven’t been here -- dean’s taken over a little bit. i’ll probably be on good ol’ andy tonight though xoxo

ALCOHOL BRUSHES LIKE fire to paint his tongue down the center seam. his mouth is full with it. hot out to his cheeks, blazing between his molars and coating the ridged arch of his palate, whisky rinses him of the dusty travel flavor and swirls to plumb his belly and warm his heart.

not even an inch, just enough to call a film, floats over glass in the bottom of his tumbler when the stranger next to him speaks.

bucky watches the trumpet player’s fingers table over the keys. they pump, languid, tumbling after that jaunty beat before sailing into a whining rumble of a blare. his heel slips the bottom stool rung just to tap the sticky floor along with the rhythm.

if this were the old days, he’d be winging across the room, dancing with a girl to impress and sweat licking the back of his neck.

‘ i’ll say. makes you wanna get up and shake a calf.

the words, scrawled across the napkin, quickly get swallowed up by a spilled drink until they smear over the damp paper, letters spidering for the corner.

bucky studies that last splash of liquor, contemplates downing it. he ends up nursing a searing sip while he disentangles himself from his slip with a crackling chuckle.

‘ sometimes it feels like i did. you listen to a lot of it, huh?

consumant-blog

SPEECH SWELLS IN HIS throat; the diabolic machination of APOCALYPSE plays over a stolen tongue -- alongside the bitter singe of alcohol he can taste the chimes which would spell the end of this downtrodden stranger’s very soul. and along with that stinging burn it is swallowed, splashing into a stomach which is only a hollow imitation of the empty, desirous hunger that itches along his hairline. a grin flashes -- at the arc of a piano flourish, his cheeks crinkle and a creaking gesture of good faith is offered. the band is applauded to their own drinks; only when the next tune starts does the praying mantis add a reply. ‘ SHAKE a calf. i like that. dancing, unfortunately, is not my forte. ‘ AS THOUGH AT THE mention of the synonym for dynamic, the band begins its next choice on an accent, syncopated rhythms causing a ripple of toe-tapping to erupt across the bar.

IN THE SMOKY DIN, it is easy to relax such human façades -- to let his limbs move as hinges, to allow his mouth to open TOO WIDE around his next drink; it cascades down a throat scorched by hunger. IF THE MAN AT his side will make no meal tonight, perhaps he can be a useful distraction. fractured humans are, perhaps, nearly as interesting as it is possible for true humans to be. ‘ I listen to all music. music fascinates me. what is your favourite song? ‘

#soldatzimy #licks u #( V: I AWAIT. I AWAIT. I AWAIT. I A W A I T. )

barefanged-deactivated20151209

maybe she wouldn’t be this CHEERFUL without that morning espresso surging through her system, but no one would ever guess otherwise as the woman weaves her way through the tiny cafe. fresh brewed coffee wafts through the air, lacing with the sweet scents of cinnamon && baked bread. ruby hums as she works, a tuneless diddy, specials printed on cards && meticulously placed on each table with care. there is love soaked into every inch of the place, it sings with the amount of care it’s owner has placed upon it’s walls. a glow that almost rivals the soft morning sunshine that streams through the windows. it’s still E A R L Y. most won’t be in for another half hour. so she nearly jolts at the bell above the door rattles. she turns ———– && smiles.

’ ——————- morning !! you’re here super early today. you have me all to yourself ( at least for now. ) what can i get you ?? ’

consumant-blog

A BORROWED FACE SPLINTERS along its seam -- how strange that a fracture is interpreted, in the human mind, as an amicable expression: a symbol of good nature. behind that assumed expression roils & seethes a burning hunger, a fathomless depth bereft of sustenance which threatens to explode from within this temporary shell and CONSUME her entirely. ‘ A coffee, please. ‘ THE HASTILY SCRAWLED REQUEST is flashed in her direction upon the white board. limbs of jutting & angular thinness fold themselves inward as the devourer occupies a seat; cheeks which ( upon assumption ) had once been full & healthy are now sunken and overwhelmed by eyes almost blackened with starvation. in and in and in and in he collapses, until it seems he might pull even the light in with him ( a mirror of neverending children which wait between the stars to envelop every fragment of every universe ). ‘ CREAM and sugar, too. ‘

#barefanged #( V: I AWAIT. I AWAIT. I AWAIT. I A W A I T. )#sits upon.#idk what i'm even writing lol

soldatzimy-archive

consumant

HE LIKES THE bars here —— a damp little public house in the mossy moors, far enough away from the main stretch that the roads are made from crooked cobbles that crack & split, that the roofs of the little houses sink in the middle as though they’ve been groaning from the weight of their existence for centuries—- because he can still smoke. lungfuls swell up, heady & thick with tar and tobacco; ash flits and flakes into the bowls on the countertops, which are always yellowed and warped, beer soaked into the lacquer.

a trumpet wheezes, BUZZES up and d o w n for a cockeyed scale landing somewhere between lazy and jazz.

bucky blinks; his shoulders hang, collar turned up to shade his cheeks from anyone who might recognize him from the trial a few years back.

‘ ‘nother of the same, thanks.

he tosses out a crumpled bill and takes the amber splash of liquor that rusts the bottom of his glass.

‘ nice to hear it like they played it in the old days, ain’t it?

said as he tosses his drink back, to no one in particular.

consumant-blog

PLACES LIKE THIS ARE so very human; they breathe, they smell, they degrade and decay -- the older they grow, the more feeble their foundations become, and yet they stay upright though they may sway with the breeze ( though they may rot from within ). his path invariably brings him to institutions like this one. these buildings lie in the core of his rebellion -- the willpower of a civilization ( down to its very dwellings ) forms the basis of HER their argument against senseless consumption. THESE PLACES WITH THEIR own heartbeats draw him with their promise of numerous shadows -- with their constant reminder that survival is possible in the presence of hope, however feeble it may be. THE EMPTY BAR STOOL beside the one-armed man has a sudden occupant; the darkness in the corner SPAT him out in the swollen sforzando offered up by a clarinet. ‘ MUSKRAT ramble. an enjoyable tune. ‘ THE WORDS ARE SCRAWLED across a napkin and passed over to the man with the concealed face; he then gestures at the stranger’s drink and holds up a finger. it froths in his mouth -- alcohol is best tasted when broken down to its atomic components, and his own favourite has so far been whisky. ‘ YOU say that, however, as someone who lived in these “old days.” ‘

#soldatzimy #love me #( V: I AWAIT. I AWAIT. I AWAIT. I A W A I T. )

HE SEETHES FROM THE darkness, is birthed from the void black of the moonless night and into the chill of the air. a low exhalation is inhabited by the stuff of stars, of the dying light, of the destruction of worlds; he WATCHES. that unctuous darkness is mirrored in this other, though one of them is of the eldest ancestors upon this earth and one is merely concealing himself in a young galaxy.

‘ YOUR soul is strange. ‘

THE WORDS ARE SPOKEN through their normal means; no guise of being human is put forth -- this consumer is no more a homo sapiens than the being before him. that voice is soft even inside one’s mind, and yet it betrays its owner’s ravenous intent.

‘ WHAT are you? i have met only humans -- you are OTHER. ‘

#calisvol #sits on you tbqh.#ok i know him being able to speak inside someone's mind is godmodding?#but i kind of assume he can do it because he's not from earth; he's supposed to #be able to communicate with all beings everywhere.#so if it's not cool i'll change it but ya h #( V: I AWAIT. I AWAIT. I AWAIT. I A W A I T. )

A MOSAIC OF DEBRIS and destruction is he, wrapped in human skin, slinking through the darkness as an emissary of shadows. there are those who would hunt his kind -- who would call them MONSTERS or ABOMINATIONS and eliminate them from the universe. humans: egocentric, young, humorous. TONIGHT THE MOON IS blotted out. the sky is an expanse of black velvet and those hunters skulk in the darkness, thinking themselves quiet -- undetectable. and here one sits, his name and profession whispered about amongst those who have inhabited the inky night since birth, sitting with his head in his hands and waiting for his waiter ( a funny expression; from what he knows of the english lexicon, would that not make sam winchester the waiter? ). ‘andy’ taps the broad human’s shoulder and points to the menu, a clear question in his gaze.

#silently asking what sam wants.#andy works in diners when he isn't eating souls #bloodysalad #( V: I AWAIT. I AWAIT. I AWAIT. I A W A I T. )

HE CAN HEAR THE music playing in the tiny plastic contraptions shoved in the boy’s auditory canals ( ear buds, that’s what they call them ); quickly, deft fingers pluck the dry erase marker from its place in his pocket and scrawl a note across the board. the smile SCRATCHES across human façade -- even after several decades, facial expressions are complicated movements of so many individual muscles, and they do not come naturally even when this faint joy is instigated.

‘ TAYLOR swift. style. i enjoy that song. ‘

#nerddepths #see i wrote u a thing.#( V: I AWAIT. I AWAIT. I AWAIT. I A W A I T. )#also stiles we can hear ur taylor swift

THE WORLD IS STUMBLING to its end, lurching to its inevitable demise with unappetizing slowness; the earth REEKS OF DECAY -- humanity is descending into the open maw of its approaching doom as a babe to its mother’s waiting breast. they brandish weapons against their destruction. they rage AGAINST the bonds of their consumption. how fitting that in the ABSENCE of half of the abyssal twins who should be the harbingers of condemnation, the earth chooses to EAT ITSELF.

THE HALF WHICH DOES reside upon the cracked and BURNING surface searches out the survivors, for only their souls can sustain him; only their undying spirit serves as entertainment when the novelty of being bitten has worn off.

‘ HELLO. how are you? ‘ IT IS WRITTEN ON the dry erase board which he carries with him -- immediately speaking in his typical mode of communication tends to alarm -- and a snap of his fingers is all it takes to get a human’s attention these days.

#laidre #i wrote you a thing bc i love you.#yes; of course asking how someone is #in the apocalype ...#is stupid and impertinent and obvious but ... that's him for u #( V: I AWAIT. I AWAIT. I AWAIT. I A W A I T. )

i am the master of your fate; i am the captain of your soul.

#oc rp #original character rp #fandomless oc #self promo #( SELF PROMO. )#ayyyyeeeee

ivan-alexanderr

"What if my problem wasn’t that I don’t understand people, but that I don’t like them" - Jake Gyllenhaal / Nightcrawler

#░ * CONSUME THE LIGHT; DEVOUR THE DARK. EMISSARY OF DESTRUCTION.

talesofbedlam-deactivated201708

#░ * CONSUME THE LIGHT; DEVOUR THE DARK. EMISSARY OF DESTRUCTION.#HORROR CW

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