specious

❛❛ silence speaks v o l u m e s by omission. ❜❜

[danikawalsh]

whaleyisms:

His eyes widen, horrified that anyone could ever perceive this roller coaster from Hell as fun or exciting. But Dani’s always been like this — impossible for him to understand. But that doesn’t mean he’s stopped trying. “Exciting?” he scoffed, “I guess if you think car sickness and nearly crashing into eighteen-wheelers is exciting, then sure.”

"Well, maybe not that part," she conceded, head tilting as she remembered the unfortunate incident occurring immediately after Devin had somehow gotten hold of the wheel. "I guess it's just nice to get out of St Clair's."

[danikawalsh]

donaldredgrave:

Donnie sat at the far end of the van, discreetly working on a project that he shared with no one. In his hand was a lighter and in the other an empty see-through cap-less bottle. During one of their road trip stops he had captured a caterpillar, one he had saved with Danika’s birthday in mind, but up until now he had kept it in a bottle with no lid. His eye was on it constantly to make sure it never escaped, but now he needed a better container for Dani to keep. Thinking of no better solution he grabbed his lighter and began to ‘melt’ the upper half of the bottle to seal it shut. But really, all he was doing was scaring the caterpillar and creating a horrible smell. It had been so silent that when Danika’s voice, of all voices, spoke up, his eyes darted upward, accidentally bringing his finger directly to the flame and dropping the bottle. He bit his lip, dropped the unlit lighter, and clutched his finger, kicking the can and its current resident under the seat to keep Dani from seeing it. His eyes watered as he shook his head and forced a far too innocent smile that would give him up, “Nope.”

Danika's brow furrowed as she heard Donnie's voice pipe up from the far corner of the van; the reaction over-rode the more instinctual one to cast her gaze to the floor and avoid eye contact. She'd suspected him of being up to something for a number of days now, what exactly being a mystery she assumed she was now one step closer to reading the last page of -- she liked thinking of things as stories, little tales that made up the daily of her life. She could only hope this one didn't end with the dismembered body of a hitchhiker under Donnie's seat. Opening her mouth to say something, she quickly clamped it shut again, brow furrowing further as she glanced down to the finger he was clutching and the bottle rolling under the seat besides him. "Are you... sure? What's that?" she asked, indicating to the plastic with the hand she still held the book in.

[danikawalsh]

stokesleighann:

Even with Danika’s slow intonation, Leigh-Ann was immediately startled by her inclination, her head whipping in the girl’s direction. “Uh, no. Burning? You think there’s a fire somewhere?” Her mind went elsewhere, tabulating the amount of possibilities and tragedies in her arsenal.

While the mothering tone to Leigh-Ann's voice -- and her presence in general -- often seemed to more than irritate the others (Devin and Imogene especially, but her efforts with them were futile anyway. Theirs were fires not dampened by the wet blanket of reprimand) Danika found it sufficiently comforting. It was nice knowing someone cared. "N-no, it's probably just something from outside," she said, one hand gesturing behind them towards a window. "If there is, we'll know about it pretty soon anyway." A tease, accompanied by the mischievous grin she wore too often lately.

[danikawalsh]

Danika was sat slouched with legs outstretched across two seats, book in her hands hiding her face from view until she lowered it, brow furrowed and nose in the air, sniffing for something. "Does... does anyone else smell burning?"

[danikawalsh]

whaleyisms:

Louis reached out his hand to help Dani back up onto the seat, feeling incredibly guilty for having sent her reeling, despite the fact that it could not have been his fault. For someone who suffered claustrophobia, the van was not ideal, and he’d just been a state of perpetual illness since they’d begun the journey. And he always had to have a window seat. Luckily, Dani was tiny - she didn’t take up a lot of space and was a good seat-partner. “I’m still not used to it,” he admitted with a shrug.

Taking the hand that hung over the side of the seat, Dani lifted herself up with a huff and pulled away a strand of hair that had gotten caught in her mouth as she sat back down, checking her elbows for injury as had become routine. She looked over at him and giggled, as though to assure him that she wasn't at all hurt -- it answered the question that was plastered across his face in a red-blush shade of guilt. "Mm, it's more exciting that way."

[danikawalsh]

whaleyisms:

Louis hadn’t been paying attention to who was driving (Imogene? Devin? Jane?), but regardless, the ride is bumpier than usual. He gripped the edge of his seat, sucking in a breath as they made a sharp turn. However, the turn was punctuated by a bump, and it seemed his grip wasn’t tight enough, since he wound up jostling the person next to him. “Fuck, sorry,” he laughed, scratching his head, “I’d say I wish we could get there sooner, but that means we’d have to go even faster.”

Dani, barely there in both mental and physical presence, had soon realised that a van filled with teens and driven by adrenaline junkies was certainly not her preferred habitat -- in the brief time they'd been on the road, she'd accumulated many red-brown grazes across her arms and knees from falls as well as general unawareness of her surroundings. Several bruises had by now turned a grotesque yellow-blue, but she hoped they'd fade-- Nope! Another sharp twist accompanied by the elbow in her side from Louis had sent her off the edge of her seat onto the narrow aisle that ran between the rows, a small yelp left in her place. "Don't worry 'bout it, I've gotten used to it!" she called up, base of another seat swallowing the volume so that she could only hope Louis had heard. "Uh, I don't think I'm really a fan of that idea."

[danikawalsh]

bees

—— A gleeful laugh tumbled from her lips at memory that came to mind. Her hand rose to tuck the hair that had fallen from behind her ear to obscure the leftmost side of her face back to its rightful position, mouth still set with corners turned up and dimples embroidering outermost edges. “Oh, gosh, I hate bees. I’ve only ever been stung once, but it was enough to let me know that I had to avoid them whenever possible from there on out. I got stung in the butt because I accidentally sat on one when I was much, much younger, so it didn’t even sting me, I kinda just took it upon myself to get stung, I guess.”

[danikawalsh]

loneliness

—— An inaudible gasp; oxygen sucked into lungs starving, living on their own decay. The word — it feels like an ice cube melting against her ear, uncomfortably cold water of thoughts she didn’t want to think slowly tumbling down the nape of her neck, running through every crevice and fold of skin before reaching the underside of her jaw, where she wipes it away with the names of those she thinks, hopes, care for her. Donnie, Imogene, Cody, perhaps even Devin. Danika doesn’t want to be alone, but she can’t help it. She can’t help that she’s always been an observer; she can’t help that there’s always been a plate of glass between her and everyone she wants to reach out and caress with a caring hand. 

—— She twists her lips into a fragmented smile. It’s a gesture so far removed from mirth that she needn’t have bothered; it’s obvious that every vital organ is squirming inside of her at the idea of having n o o n e. "I— I think loneliness is the saddest thing that can happen. People… people said that word a lot near my father’s coffin. He was always a lonely man, such a sad fate for someone who turned his loneliness into such beauty. My mother told me that was what killed him — being lonely — but I’m not sure. He said he liked being alone, but why would he like something that was slowly killing him? He was a writer, though, so at least he immortalised his death as art. 

—— “Maybe— I think maybe there’s a difference between being lonely and being alone. I’ve always though that loneliness is when you have nobody at all, not even yourself, y’know? Lots of people sit alone on park benches and in coffee shops, but you can’t see their hearts being pulled out of their throats every moment they live without human contact because they have themselves, and they’re so wrapped up in their own existence in that moment that they’re… not alone at all. But loneliness is a different kind of company. The kind that wraps cold fingers around your throat and squeezes your chest and pulls the darkness into your joints and your marrow to make you feel like you are nothing but alone; nothing except for being nothing at all.

—— “I— I’m rambling, I’m sorry,” she says, chuckling and fanning a hand though to clear the air of all of her saddening words. 

[danikawalsh]

janedoejr:

          "You can tonight! We can even catch you some of your own! We just need to find another jar … ."

"I wouldn't want to capture them. You'd extinguish half their light, don't you think?"

[danikawalsh]

itshanakim:

"That’s true. So maybe that’s not the best idea I’ve ever had…. but it was convenient!"

"Well, we'd definitely get somewhere faster."

[danikawalsh]

stars

—— The Stars. Images of people caught between the fingers of the cruel hands of fate and telescopes crossed her eyes, but in truth, the word stars always conjured up one very distinct idea for Danika: love. There was something beautiful about the firmament when painted a medley of colours by the hand of the sunset, something that filled her very soul with the kind of freedom that made people run from comfort and contentment towards instability; towards discord in the hopes of finding something that would complete them rather than simply nourish broken pieces with soft poets’ words and warm bodies. She sighed deeply, as though sucking in the word from the air around her to let its syllables fester in her chest so that she, too, could one day look up and see a part of herself detailed into the night sky. 

—— “I love the stars — there’s something so amazing about looking up and seeing a breadth of possibility hanging above your head, a world you’ll never quite be able to reach but always be able to graze with the very tips of your fingers. They always make me think of people in love: people with their hearts strewn amidst all of the glitter of the darkness and lives tangled in the mystery of it all. I’ve been thinking about it a lot recently, actually — the idea of fate. Having the stars themselves, the ones that are made out of the same brightness as we are, decide where we go and who we meet and what we do. It’s all very mind-boggling, really.”

[danikawalsh]

coffee

—— At the mention of the word, Danika’s nose filled with a murky smell — coffee — that wove itself amongst the scent of flowers and poetry left over from idle thoughts. She smiled. “Coffee… I’m never sure if I love it or hate it. I like the concept of it, and the smell, and the colour, and the richness of the flavour, but not quite the actual flavour itself. The first memory that comes to mind, though, is the stale, burnt smell of it that comes from the kitchen some days. It always makes me think of all the staff members here — they all seem to always smell like coffee too, actually.”

[danikawalsh]

do you believe in ghosts?

—— She smiled, thinking of her father. Perhaps he was a ghost — visiting her daily unbeknownst to her and blessing her with invisible wishes. She liked that thought. “Yes, I do. I think… people can be ghosts sometimes, too, though. You know, sort of always caught between this realm and the next in a purgatory for those not ready to let go just yet. Living and breathing but just not really here. I do believe in the, uh, more traditional type ghosts too, though — it’d be silly of me to deny the possibility of something if I have no proof either way, right?”

[danikawalsh]

do you believe in second chances?

—— Danika’s thoughts immediately wandered to Donald, and perhaps that was how she knew her answer. It would always be yes for her; her heart would always be open to both pain and joy if they came by means of a stranger or past friend with an apology hanging from their lips, and however much she’d want to deny her own naivety Dani knew she couldn’t deny this. A part of her, all of her wanted to believe in the goodness in people — the unwaveringly pure parts of themselves they covered up. “Yes. I think people can change, and I think sometimes—… Sometimes they just need an opportunity to redo everything, start afresh and sew new seeds. How else would you find beautiful gardens if the grass was always uncompromising and hostile to new flowers, right?”

[danikawalsh]

janedoejr:

          "Never?" Jane whispered in surprise, as if to ask too loud would be to jinx Danika’s chances altogether.

"Never," she stated in agreement. "I wish I had, though."

[danikawalsh]

itshanakim:

"Devin offered, actually. Should I take him up on it? At the very least, I’d know how to drive fast." She laughed at that, to show she didn’t mean it.

"Only for a little while. He'd crash you both before you'd get a hand on the wheel," she said, laughing.

[danikawalsh]

itshanakim:

I’m officially bored with being a passenger. Who’s teaching me how to drive?

"Let's hope it's neither Imogene nor Devin," she said, giggling.