human error.

i.zeus walks around at 2 a.m by himself; he just wants someone to talk to but he has a bottle instead and the bottle keeps looking back at him. you’ll never find someone to love you, it says. he knows it too well but he keeps on hoping; maybe the bottle is wrong. ii.poseidon finds himself staring at the sea with his thoughts alone. when did he become this sad? this lonely? this hopeless? he was once such a happy boy. do it, poseidon, they won’t miss you, the sea whispers. he considers it; was this all there was for him? iii.hades is lost in all the darkness around him. one pill after another, after another. all have different colours and they all make him fly. just one more, they say, one more won’t do no harm. he is beyond saving anyway; so what could one little pill do? brandon eugene lowe. xxii, english, juris doctor degree student, intp, scorpio.

[noelleskye-blog]

She stuck her tongue out at him, before placing another piece of sushi on it. It was very sweet of him to take them to get food, especially with the level of exhaustion he had been facing. Crawling over to him, she poked his nose, smiling softly. “Yes, I know. I must be a pain in the arse,” she murmured, doing her best to imitate him. “But I am your pain in the arse, after all.” Setting the take out container off to the side, Noelle sat up on the mattress and picked Kayla up, setting the girl down in between them. Her heart sped up as she looked at her daughter, an immense love filling her. The brunette didn’t think she could ever love someone this much… well, other than one person. She wished she could capture this moment like a picture, their small family lying down together. Brandon, Noelle, and their daughter. “Who would have thought,” the brunette whispered. “Think back to when you first walked into the annoying 12 year old girl placed in your care. Would you have thought you’d be fathering her child?”

[destructivedonnie-blog]

The twenty-three-year-old boy blinked his eyes softly from the quick touch of Noelle’s fingertips; but his half-dazed gaze was wiped and replaced with a fairly amused grin. He rose his brows as he listened and witnessed the girl’s imitation of him, the corner of his lips struggling to keep a straight face. “You’re most definitely a pain in the arse,” he teased her back, groaning grumpily through an amuse expression; giving her somewhat pleasure for ‘nailing’ her impersonation of him. The sight – though hazy from his lack of sleep – of both Noelle and his daughter warmed his heart. Unfortunately, after his sister’s death, his heart has been left empty with a hole, but it seems as though the two girls laying in his bed had somewhat numbed the pain; healing it slowly if anything. He assisted Noelle on setting his baby girl down, adjusting his position and moving a tad closer towards the baby; wriggling a finger into the grip of Kayla’s small fingers. “Who would have thought,” he repeated very quietly, his eyes and attention paid onto the little girl laying in between himself and his best friend. He was too mesmerized and deeply in love to even throw back a witty remark. For someone who once claim to not like children, here he was holding onto and playing with the tiniest slender fingers he could ever cling onto for support. “I’m quite lucky,” he blurted out, chuckling.

[noelleskye-blog]

“nine months without sushi is like trying to train a horse to roll over.” she murmured, shoving another piece in her mouth. “it’s just painful for everyone.” staring down at kayla, the little bundle of joy that sat in a booster seat next to her made each bite taste more and more extravagant. “the sacrifices i made for you, you little monster.” she murmured affectionately, giving her daughter a kiss on the top of the head. 

[destructivedonnie-blog]

Brandon had his body face down against the mattress, an arm tucked underneath his pillow while his head rested against above it. His eyes were close, and he was faced at Noelle’s and her daughter’s direction; but even though he felt restless and had rushed to a Japanese restaurant for the sake of fulfilling Noelle’s craving earlier, Brandon couldn’t fall asleep. It wasn’t because he wasn’t tired (he’s been tired for a long time now) but much rather, he chose to stay awake to watch the little toes and fingers of Kayla’s wriggling. “And the things i do for you,” he muttered quietly, his eyes slowly opening to see Noelle digging into her takeaway box, and of course, Kayla on her booster seat.

[lbrliajane-blog]

“I don’t know! I’m not a Brandon am I?” she grinned. “It’s not like this is my first tattoo I’ll be doing. I’m just finally opening a shop of my own!” Lia chewed on the inside of her cheek and she rocked back and forth on her heels. “Okay … No pressure, I’m just … nervous? I’m slightly terrified this whole thing is gonna flop.” Lia was excited, without a doubt, about opening this store, but it was also the first time she was making a really big career move. This store could make or break her and she was really scared of it doing the latter. She wasn’t willing to share her woes with just anyone, but Brandon had always been like an annoying little brother to her. Now, more than ever, she felt compelled to look after him and tease him and just be there for him. So, she figured dumping her nerves on him would give him something else to think about even if for just a second. 

[destructivedonnie-blog]

"I know,” he paused, “i was just saying -- you know when people open up their resturants and they’re not used to the kitchen, so they’d plate their dishes out at a slow pace, that sort of thing.” Brandon didn’t know why but he felt the need to explain. Perhaps because he noticed the nervousness Dahlia was radiating off her small, tiny, being. It amused him there and then; the thought of a tattoo artist he once bothered so much was this nervous, and so unaware of her own talents. He watched the girl as she paced, slowly feeling like his old self again as he nearly spat our a joke; but he remembered one task he had been wanting to get on with. He wanted to imprint his sister’s initials on his body.

“Look,” he interrupted Dahlia before she could completely psych herself out, “this whole thing isn’t going to flop.” He could feel his pessimistic nature crawling over his shoulder but he shook it off, wrapping it around with reality. “You worked really hard for this, and you’re a great tattoo artist. Sure, your business is going to be slow for a few days, but once your loyal customers finds you, and once you’re finally established, it’ll get better.” His shoulders raised just slightly and he fidgeted around on the spot for a short seconds. “I-- are you busy?” He felt hesitant. He was eager to engraved his sister’s initials on him, but he too wasn’t... ready? “Never mind, i think i have to get going.”

Tattoos are permanent after all.

[alsudairy8-deactivated20170616]

[ffsitsblake-blog]

“I didn’t think you were fluent in anything except sarcasm,” Blake countered, ignoring the fact that Brandon had flipped him off. This was a normal day for the two of them. Keeping each other occupied with banter as if they were an old married couple. “I don’t think your ass is going to win me a spot in any photography show, sorry,” Blake replied with a roll of his eyes. “Comparing your butt to anything of a baby is disgusting.” He shook his head, pressing a few more buttons on his camera to try to ready it. As he took the picture he laughed, but his laughter died when it finally came out clear. “Fuck, you’ve got to be kidding me.” Blake shook his head again. “Now pull your damn boxers back up. I can’t believe the first clear picture on this camera is of your butt.”

[destructivedonnie-blog]

"You’re making me insecure,” Brandon yelled out; the pillows softening his tone and lowering the volume of his voice. “My butt is capable on winning you awards. Everyone wants a piece of this,” he continued on, cutting himself short as he heard the sound of the camera clicking. Brandon was far too lazy to toss himself back around, and so he just lay there for a few more seconds, exposing his cheeks as he waited for results. Brandon broke the silence with a loud laughter, and soon he was sat up with his boxers back on properly. “It’s meant to be,” he told Blake, “you can call me a liar and shun me all you like, but what you’re holding and what’s stored in that damn camera is a living proof.” He had a finger pointed at Blake as he made his point. “Frame it.”

[ffsitsblake-blog]

“Well if you’re fluent in French then feel free to give it a go, grump ass. The instructions aren’t in English.” Blake raised his brows at Brandon quickly before looking back at his camera. The two had taken to making a mess of their own place, but Blake didn’t quite care at the moment. Even if he could get a clear shot of the takeout boxes everywhere he’d be happy. “You really want me to ruin this camera with a picture of your ass?” He stepped forward anyways, laughing. “I swear if this is the only picture that comes out clear I quit.”

[destructivedonnie-blog]

Brandon paused, lifting up a finger from where he lay; not at all once bothered to remove the pillow on his face. “I’ll have you know i am fluent in French, not-so-smart ass,” and with that he placed his finger back down, resuming back into his previous mode where it involved no interest shown towards Blake’s direction. “You’re a picky photographer,” the brunet complained, though with the pillow pressed onto his face, all Blake could probably hear were muffles. “My butt’s fucking majestic. It’s as smooth as babies’ cheeks,” he carried on, soon doing Blake a favor by flipping himself over and lowering his boxers down to reveal what he probably would consider ‘curves’. “Take it or leave it, you ungrateful bastard,” he continued to muffle, with his face pressed against the pillow. "I'm not getting out of bed for your own selfish needs."

[ffsitsblake-blog]

“I thought,” Blake paused, fingers fiddling with buttons on his new camera, “that the sales description for this camera said ‘easy to use’. Easy to use my ass.” He held the camera up, trying to focus it for a decent picture. “This shit is impossible.”

[destructivedonnie-blog]

"There’s a reason why new things are packed together with an instruction booklet,” Brandon grumbled quietly under his breath; obviously annoyed at Blake’s constant whining and complaining for the past 30 minutes. The living room was quite a mess. Empty -- some half empty -- take-out boxes placed and covering the coffee table whole, while Brandon has now turned into a frequent couch camper. “Am i going to pop the cherry of your new camera?” He muffled against the pillow he covered his face and wrapped his arms around with. “Take a picture of my butt.”

[lbrliajane-blog]

Lia smiled gently in return.. It was good to see Brandon out and about. “You say that as if that’s ever stopped you from being a nuisance before,” she joked, poking his shoulder playfully. “But, you should stop by. See how fabulous I really am and then you can go off and do whatever it is that Brandons do.”

[destructivedonnie-blog]

He gave out a quiet chuckle, ducking his head bashfully; the remembrance of his constant annoyance around the parlor Dahlia once worked at, and now she opened up a place of her own. “What do Brandons even do?” he narrowed his brows while he questioned, continuing to chuckle as he leaned against the direction he was pushed towards from the brunette’s light poke. “How about I let you settle in for a week or two? Most people need to get a hang of their environment cause they tend to fuck it up during the first week, so i’d rather not be any of your victims.” He shrugged, “i’ll come by... soon.” He couldn’t promise or plan ahead. He wouldn’t know if he’d be better, or in the mood to wake up and he hated disappointing. So he rather just not.

[gracehudsonxo-blog]

It was only after she saw the pain flash over Brandon’s face that Grace realized her choice of words and wanted to kick herself. She was surprised when she received a call from Brandon asking to meet up for coffee. He’d been grieving so strongly – and rightfully so – that no one had really seen or heard from him in weeks. She was glad to see he was at least functioning a little better, a tiny bit more present in the world. “What are you sorry for?” she asked, straightening up in her seat, eyebrow scrunched together in confusion. She could see him squirming as if his skin was itching to come off and, hesitantly, she reached across the table to touch his wrist. “Yeah, Brandon. I’m fine. I was just … being stupid, you know? I knew better than what I was doing, but I just didn’t care.” Grace stared at him for several moments, trying to figure out how to ask her next question without sounding like a complete tool. “Are you … ?” Okay? Fine? Holding up? Nothing seemed to fit right. He had lost his sister and he wasn’t going to be okay in just a few weeks.

[destructivedonnie-blog]

There was a long list of things he should apologize for. It wasn’t the right moment to pin point them down, nor is it the right moment to bring them up; but his head was far too messy and absent to differentiate what was important and what wasn’t. He shook his head slightly, in attempt to wave his accidental apology away, or much rather saving it for another day. Sitting in front of Grace was surprisingly comforting and it was when she reached forward and touched his wrists Brandon was reminded as to why he called her in the first place. His own selfish needs and his constant woes after learning her big secret. “Who knew?” He asked quietly, not able to register the news. He could have easily picked up the signs. He could have done better in observing while they were together. He could have taken better care of her.

“Fine,” he easily answered and completed her question straightforwardly, not quite wanting to deal with yet another cycle of an ‘i’m so sorry for your loss’ talk. He didn’t need another reminder. Kayla was okay, she is okay.

[coffinracinginspo]

Excuse me if I’m not in the most chipper of moods. I just got back from visiting my family, and they’re just as dreadful as I remember. Anyways, what’s that you’re drinking and where can I find one? Alcoholism solves everything, right?

[destructivedonnie-blog]

“Whisky.” Short and simple were the words Brandon could only offer. He hated when the night grew dark, for his thoughts - like unsettled spirits - found confidence in haunting. He nodded in agreement as he slowly swung the glass he held at its rim clockwise, putting it down and gesturing the bartender for another glass. It’s the least her could do for some company.

[lbrliajane-blog]

“so my tattoo shop is finally opening up this weekend – am i gonna be seeing you there or what?”

[destructivedonnie-blog]

He offered the girl a small genuine smile -- one he had not given as frequently, and one that not many people could earn from him themselves. He congratulated her, giving out a soft chuckle. “I doubt it but i guess we’ll see. I don’t think you need a nuisance hanging around your parlour on its first day -- bad luck.”

[gracehudsonxo-blog]

“I wish everyone would stop looking at me like i’m about to fall apart … I just got out of the hospital, I’m not coming back from the grave or something,” Grace huffed as she fiddled with the ends of her still-pink hair. The color was fading and pretty soon she’d be faced with a decision – re-dye it or go back to being blonde. It was something silly to be focusing on, but she’d rather focus on that than all the hovering her mother and others had been doing since her minor heart attack and stay at the hospital. Secret was out: Grace Hudson has a heart defect. 

[destructivedonnie-blog]

Brandon did not dare the slightest to look right into the eyes of Grace Hudson’s. It was probably a mistake to call her out, to ask for some of her time over a cup of coffee, or to just... see her; especially after the news of her heart condition painted all over magazine covers. He couldn’t exactly pin point his reasons, especially when not many people had seen him after his sister’s death. Oh God, Kayla. A rush of memories of what occurred a few weeks ago caused a heavy bang into his chest from Grace’s poor choice of words; his eyes finally lifting up to look at Grace. It wasn’t her fault. Everyone moves on; everyone is expected to live their own lives, to resume back into it, to continue. Everyone but Brandon it now seems. “I’m sorry,” he blurted out unexpectedly; giving him just a few short seconds to finally realized he apologized. For what, Brandon? “You’re fine... though, right?

His sentences cut short and he rubbed his two sweaty palms together to keep himself from fidgeting. He sat there with as much strength he could possibly hold inside of him but if you just touch Brandon just a little, he might just break.

[noeden]

The blonde shook off her tan trench coat, draping it over the backrest of the stool. Her crystal blue eyes trained on the male before her. One of her bare legs crossed over the other. Sure it was cold out still, but that was never going to stop Eden from putting a nice little dress on. It was more of a sweater than a dress but she made it work. She reached forward to pick up the drink placed in front of her. She lifted the cold glass to her lips, but didn’t take a sip just yet. “That’s good to hear Lowe. I’m happy to see you out and about. It’ll get better.” She advised, watching him before she leaned forward. Her elbow placing itself on the bar, drink still in hand. “Me? Oh you know. Places like these are always the best for finding a little, fun.”

[destructivedonnie-blog]

As the duo began a conversation, Brandon did not once advert his gaze to look over at Eden. Quite frankly, he was uninterested with what the blonde has to say -- well, actually, his mind wasn’t there at all. But despite how he had blocked out everything -- not leaving out the part where the other had attempted to ‘comfort’ him with the usual ‘i’m glad things are going fine’ talk that people seem to be entertaining him with recently, he finally turned himself around with a kinked brow tossed her way; ignoring the arrows pointing to the direction their conversation was heading. Brandon Lowe have had just about enough with people pitying him; pretending they gave a damn about his sister’s death whereas they would go on with their lives like nothing had happened. Fuck them, fuck every single person in this damn bar. “You consider this fun?” He questioned dully, turning and pulling his gaze back onto the glass he was holding as he rested his elbow on the solid surface.

[gracehudsonxo-blog]

She swirled the liquid in her glass as she watched light of the lamps around reflected off of the crystal. It was easier to focus on a menial task than it was to think about all the implications of talking with Branding right at that moment. He was in a dark place, a darker place than she had even known and she was scared of what he was capable of. She didn’t know what to expect of him. ‘I like it here.’ It was a simple enough answer for an exceedingly complicated situation. His words turned harsh and venomous in her direction and hearing the voice she loved so much address her in such a way was startling, at first. It wasn’t something she could have expected, but she was determined to stand strong in the face of his behavior. “That’s not what I meant, Brandon,” Grace snapped. Her heart aching at the thought of Kayla and what she would do if she could see her brother in that state. It would have broken her heart and then Kayla would have likely kicked his ass. “I meant the drinking,” she clarified, her tone just as rough as his. Grace clenched her jaw at his quip about her hair, but she straightened her back rigid. “What’s that supposed to mean exactly?” the former blonde asked, eyes narrowed in Brandon’s direction. He could be harsh when he wanted to be and with everything that had happened, she was sure he was set to detonate at any moment. There was only so much that any of us could handle after all. 

[destructivedonnie-blog]

Brandon had his attention lowered and set on the glass he was holding once again. He couldn’t quite figure out what’s good for him at the moment. Being alone seems like a good idea; it was what he needed and has been for the past few weeks -- alone; not like he given anyone a chance to set foot within a meter from where he stood. He either blew them off or ignored them till they got sick of trying. But as he sat down with the one company he had forced himself to accept, Brandon knew being alone did him no good. Sure, he might hate the company and presence of someone around him, he might hate to force smiles or put in any effort to carry a conversation -- but he was also aware of his actions, and what he was capable of. Being alone for him right now carried too many risks. His blank stare softened as his eyes got hypnotized by the swirling liquid. Before anyone could claim that he was soulless, Brandon blinked through his frozen gaze. “I don’t--” he paused, taking in a deep breath before exhaling, “... know.” He honestly didn’t. If there were some way to numb the pain he would drown himself in them -- if anything, the blonde should be glad that it’s alcohol he’s depending on right now.

“I meant it looks good on you,” he simply retorted. “Didn’t think you were that bold.”

[ameliahudsonx-deactivated201901]

Amelia was aware that the likely hood of anything ever happening between the two of them was almost non existent, but she couldn’t help but feel like she was at home in his arms, she hated it – she didn’t want to still love Brandon, yet here she was. Pushing the thoughts aside Amelia threw herself into the kiss, her hands snaking up into his hair, she couldn’t get enough of him. Amelia couldn’t help but laugh at his question, this was all so sudden and confusing for Amelia but she wasn’t going to voice that now, in fear that it would stop. “Better now.” Amelia mutters as she kisses him “You?” A  small gasp flew out of her mouth and into his as she was lifted up, her legs clung to him, she didn’t really like the feeling of it – in the back of her mind she was scared that she’d fall down. Gripping onto him tighter Amelia pulled her lips away from his only to trail them down his neck. “Gonna keep me here forever?”

[destructivedonnie-blog]

As Brandon felt the tightness of Amelia’s legs wrapped around his waist, like always, he made sure of it that his arms were wrapped around her petite body, his hands holding onto her legs for support; an assurance for her to know she was safe. He wasn’t going to let her fall -- no matter how weak and out of it he currently is. He hummed in response to her question; his lips unwilling to pull back away from hers to answer a simple “good,” or “okay,” even if he was neither of the two. So the boy hummed as he deepened each kiss; his eyes taking small glimpse here and there, his legs moving steadily towards her bedroom while he carried her.

As soon as he made in, without interrupting or causing any gaps in between their swollen lips, Brandon took a seat on the edge of her bed; leaving Amelia seated on his lap. While his brows furrowed from the sudden cold air brushing his lonely lips, he made a noise of a soft whine the instance Amelia pulled away from him. “You’re killing me here,” he complained softly through a hoarse voice; leaning back on his straightened arm which are now placed behind him. “It depends,” he told her through a quiet whisper, his eyes wandering around her face, making no contact with her light hues whatsoever. He dragged his teeth along his swollen bottom lip, bringing up a hand to lock a golden strand of Amelia’s hair behind her ear. “Am i going to have to keep you hostage, or are you more than willing to be here?”

[gracehudsonxo-blog]

She’d been hovering behind him silently for several minutes, content with just observing him and making sure he didn’t find himself in too much trouble. His request was so quiet, she wasn’t sure she’d heard him at first. Grace hadn’t thought that he had noticed her, but his demand clearly stated otherwise. Nervously, she scratched at her arm unsure about taking the few steps forward to sit beside him. The bartender placed a drink for her on the bar and Brandon insisted again. The female took in a deep breath to gather her courage and took the stool besides Brandon, nodding thanks to the the bartender before lifting the drink to her lips and taking a large sip. Grace licked her lips and placed the glass back on the bar. Her index finger swirled around the rim as she looked on forward, too much of a coward to look at Brandon directly. “Funny meeting you in a place like this.” He hadn’t seen her since she dyed her hair and, even though she’d done it on a whim out of her own wishes, she was suddenly terribly self-conscious of how it looked. Grace fidgeted with the ends of her hair before clearing her throat and asking, “How long are you planning on doing this?”

[destructivedonnie-blog]

He watched the yellow transparent liquid dance around the walls inside of his glass; his eyes slowly losing its own focus, as well as his sight which grew hazy each second. His body was way too weak for anything right now -- all he had been doing lately was either visiting the bar, forcing himself to sleep with the help of pills, or just laying around in his apartment, mostly still grieving over the death of his beloved sister. He had no motivation whatsoever to push himself -- which applies heavily on his studies and work; in fact, by now, he could already be consider as unemployed. He gave out a forced chuckle, closing his heavy eyelids for a brief second before shaking his head. Seeing him in bars is never rare, but seeing him in them after his sister’s death -- was better than not seeing him at all. “I like it here,” he simply replied, though he didn’t really mean what he said. Staying alone in his apartment only brought back memories. On days he would find it a blessing -- the memory of his sister lighting up his features for he is so thankful to have someone so lovely in his life, but on others, it reminded him how little time he had spent with her, how he can no longer create new ones. Throughout the first few minutes of Grace joining him, Brandon made no eye contact. A part of him didn’t want anyone to worry, but yet another part of him wanted to kill with all the anger he has boiling up. These people were the cause of his sister’s death -- with evidence or not. He shrugged at the other’s question, not entirely getting her point -- whether she meant him drinking, or his disconnected state. “You mean grieving?” He asked bluntly, narrowing his eyes which lifted an angle. All he could think about was his sister. Everything connected to her in his life. “You mean crying and hurting over my sister’s death?” His spat out every word like it held venom. “All my fucking life if you must know.” He lifted his glass and downed it all; he wasn’t going to cry. He had no tears left to cry.

“Nice hair,” he pointed out in a scornful manner. “It suits you.”

[noeden]

A smirk formed on the blonde’s red lips at the offer. She had spotted him from across the bar. She had already made up her mind about walking over to him. She was going to join him if he liked it or not. His realization of her presence was a bit surprising as she had closed in on him slowly, a lion sizing up its prey. But instead of stopping in her tracks she continued right on with his open invitation. She slid onto the stool beside him, her hand set on his shoulder as she helped herself up. “Haven’t seen you around much Lowe.” Her hand slid down his shoulder before she pulled back, her eyes trained on him. “How are you?”

[destructivedonnie-blog]

Brandon gave out a forced and dry scoff; his head cocking backwards just slightly as he did while he raised his glass of whiskey up in a form of “cheers” before taking a sip. “Haven’t really been around,” he explained through a dark grin, a burning sensation running down his throat from the liquor. Not that he would say it out loud, or ever admit to himself, but Eden was the perfect distraction he needed. It wasn’t as though this was the first time she had ever distracted him from his own fucked up and clouded mind anyway. “Good,” he lied terribly, almost choking from how forced it sounded. “I’m good,” he repeated through soft chuckles though his chuckles held anything humorous. “And you?” Brandon asked the blonde -- not out of concern; quite frankly, he couldn’t really give a damn about anyone right now. The question was merely out of a subject change. Eden had always enjoyed talking about herself anyway. “What brings an attractive woman like yourself, alone at a bar?”