one half of a deadly duo

matthew PANIC musker find me roaming around... just don't tell hades, okay? he's scary.

[judyhoppscpd-deactivated2016103]

“Sorry to bother,” Judy started, slightly out of breath from her jog to catch up with them. “I’m Officer Judy Hopps, with the CPD? Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?”

[dreadfulpanic-blog]

—     As soon as she said “Officer,” Panic froze. Never deal with the police. Never deal with the police. And always keep your mouth shut if you do. He gave her a shaky smile, that he hoped was convincing. “Uhhhh... only if it’ll not take a minute,” he said. “Wait. I mean, only if it’ll be short. I’m uhm. Late for work.”

[faeriydust]

It was probably a little uncalled for, for her to pick up her pace to try and get him to fall behind– but she was angry, and when she was angry she was mean, and when she was mean she was irrational. Or maybe it was the other way around– it wasn’t really like, in her actual fragile body, any of those things could be separated from one another the way people might try to do, logically. Everything just bumped around inside her like a swarm of bees and she felt it all.

She was determined on keeping the silence, if only to punctuate her irritation, and so even once Panic had set pace with her and they’d gotten a good distance from where they started, maybe a quarter-mile or so, Tinka still didn’t say anything. In fact, she kept her lips pressed together just to make sure nothing would come out, even though she never had trouble being quiet. 

[dreadfulpanic-blog]

—     Panic didn’t really like this whole... walk of silence thing. It made him feel as if he was walking to his doom. If his heart wasn’t beating fast before, it definitely was now. He was sucking in breaths as he tried not to let it beat of out of his chest. He was this close to start rambling just to fill the silence. This girl wasn’t very happy with him, obviously. But no one ever was.

“So... Tinka, right?” he started. Oh no. “Tinka. Tink-uh. Tin-kuh. That’s an interesting name you’ve got. How’d you get it? I mean obviously your parents gave it to you... but how did they come up with it, do you know? Also, do you know where we are or where we’re going? I think we’re still in Carthay. I wouldn’t know what anywhere else looked like anyway. I’ve never left. Have you left Carthay before? I hear of people leaving, but I don’t know if I could.” 

If he wasn’t stuttering up a storm, Panic was rambling to fill the silence. One or the other, but never both. 

[wendiisms]

‘ and what might i ask, is it that you have DONE…? ’

[dreadfulpanic-blog]

—     “Just... some... art.”

[sillyoldwinnie-blog]

Winnie was nearly skipping. It was Friday, she had finished another semester of college, and there was a pint of ice cream in her canvas shopping bag. She was humming to herself as she walked quickly home, hoping to beat the sundown so she could watch it from her window as she enjoyed her ice cream. 

Turning a corner, Winnie happened upon a curious sight. There, sat firmly on a bench, was a young man she hadn’t seen before. He was wringing his shaking hands together frantically, looking vaguely like a frightened deer staring into a pair of bright headlights. 

“Excuse me,” Winnie trailed off, listening to the man talk to himself, “Are you alright? You seem a little…panicked.”

[dreadfulpanic-blog]

—     “Th-that’s what they call me,” Panic stammered, his immediate response. But then he looked up and saw a girl towering over him. She looked like one of the university girls, probably happy that finals were over or something. He didn’t keep up with the university schedule since he dropped out.

“Y-yes, I’ll be f-fine.” Maybe. That really depended on what happened today. “I just ... don’t like today.” 13 was a bad number. Friday the 13ths were always bad. There was no such thing as a good one.

“No mirrors. No black cats,” he repeated, almost as a chant. 

[ofoveralls-deactivated20160922]

“Whatever you say,” she smiled and walked up to the counter. He seemed nervous for some reason and her eyebrows came together briefly. “Did you want me to order? I don’t mind.”

[dreadfulpanic-blog]

—     Panic nodded vigorously, almost making himself sick by doing so. “Yes, yes please!!” Then he remembered that she probably wasn’t a mind reader. “I want a large caramel ribbon crunch frappuccino.”

[ofmardigras-blog]

         Charlotte thumbed the opening of her coffee, not drinking it yet because it was too hot, but distracted. Things weren’t looking great in her life at the moment, not that they were ever much different than this, but when things accumulate and thoughts and loneliness grow… It becomes a heavy weight and she wondered when would be the next time she’d explode. Sighing softly, the blonde looked up though and that’s when she caught a glimpse of him: Panic. Knowing everyone in town practically, of course she knew who he was. And how he was acting made her head tilt and blue eyes narrow. Strange. He was sitting near her, though, she thought she’d say something. Speak up.

“Sugar, are you all right?” For once her voice was soft as she watched him. “You look all afright. Maybe you should lay off the coffee.”

[dreadfulpanic-blog]

—     Panic jumped about 10 feet in the air, not expecting anyone to talk to him. Of course, he’d already been on edge, but the shock just made his inherent jumpiness that much worse. 

He turned towards the blonde girl sitting next to him. Charlotte La Bouff. She was one of the richer residents of Carthay, and if Panic was honest, he’d spent a fair amount of time trying to break into her family’s country club, with varying amounts of success. Sighing, he shook his head.

“Not coffee. It’s today. Bad day, bad day. Say, you don’t happen to have some salt with you, do you?”

[toughgirled-blog]

         Hazel eyes narrowed at the gears obviously turning in his head – gears that probably needed grease and were rather rusty if she thought about it, though, maybe that was her propensity to think Panic and Pain were both rather dim-witted. Not that she was wrong – they weren’t the brightest crayons in the crayon box, but she often didn’t give them enough credit when credit was due thanks to the many times they didn’t deserve it in her eyes. And probably Hades’ for that matter. Still, she didn’t see why he tried lying to her or even trying to think about ways to keep the truth from her. Megara was always liable to find out. And if she didn’t, well, Hades did. And which was worse? Surely, she was the lesser of two evils. Especially when she didn’t care, but oh well. He’d try anyway.

“So you’ve gone rogue,” so to peak. What he did wasn’t necessarily against the lord of the dead, but it still wasn’t ordered and he wouldn’t like it if he found out. If, if was good. But what happened to his rodents wasn’t of consequence to her. Nor was it her job to find out and tell him what each little worm did. Still, it was a little fun at least to watch them wriggle when she found them. Which was exactly what Panic did.

Part of her was surprised he didn’t scamper off like a little bunny as she spoke to hi, but she could tell he wanted to and that was at least one thing as she examined her nails lazily and put on a show with a slight hum of exhaustion as he carried on. “You think you were bored? Panic, do you know anything about yourself or do you just go with whatever someone tells you to?” Naturally no one told him he was bored, but still. The thought that he was hesitant at it wasn’t exactly insuring. “You’d think by now you’d have picked up some of Hades’ confidence, but apparently not,” the brunette observed before standing straighter. “So are you going to tell him about this or shall I?”

[dreadfulpanic-blog]

—     “I didn’t go rogue!” Panic nearly yelled. He scared himself and jumped, taking a step back. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath. In, out. He reopened his eyes, and looked at Meg, pleading.

“I haven’t gone r-rogue,” he stammered. “And don’t tell Hades! Puh-please. He’d be mad.” Just the thought alone had Panic wanting to turn tail and run, or hide behind something and pretend it wasn’t happening. But neither of those were options when Megara was around; she wouldn’t allow it. It was as if she could control you with her eyes alone. If she had your eye contact, you were trapped. 

He thought about what she said, though. Did he know anything about himself? Panic was pretty sure he did. He knew that he liked to knit and read gossipy magazines. Staying up to date with the outside world was one of his favorite things. He knew he liked going to the craft store and picking out new yarns. Panic’s eyebrows furrowed as he realized that yes, he knew things about himself. Why didn’t anyone else believe him when he said so?

“N-no one is going to tell him?” he suggested. “I like that option.”

[perfectgeorgette-deactivated201]

Georgette nodded decisively. His regained confidence reassured her she’d made the right choice- Of course she could have had one of her staff do this errand for her. But then, she would have run the risk of this getting out, and she couldn’t have that.

“For your own sake, pray that you don’t.” She held out her hand for his phone. “I’m going to give you my personal phone number. If you abuse it, there will be consequences. I want regular check-ins, at least every couple days. And when it’s over, we’ll meet up so we can discuss if your debt has been paid or not,” she rattled off, inputting her number under the name Jane Doe. Maybe her instinct said she could trust him, but her instinct didn’t say anything about his friends.

[dreadfulpanic-blog]

—     “You got it,” Panic said, his voice becoming more and more sure as he fell into the familiar pattern of contracted work. He was still terrified of course, but he could do this. He was used to this. And it was something he didn’t mind doing, really.

“I won’t abuse the number, no no no,” he shook his head vigorously. He learned that lesson with both Hades and Meg. He looked at the name: Jane Doe. Panic would have to add an emoji to it later so he’d remember which Jane Doe Georgette was. “I’ll start on this as soon as I uh,” he looked back at his phone. “Track the guy. Yes. That’s what I’ll do first.”

[alchemistpirate-blog]

“Well I’m glad to hear that, Matthew,” Zarina smiled. “I think it’s much nicer than Panic, really.” It was true - surely having the nickname Panic set him on a path that he could never return from, A self-fulfilling prophecy, if you would. Even if he managed to escape his anxiety, the reminder would always be there. 

“It’s awful, isn’t it? You just can’t seem to get rid of it, and then when you do, you feel empty,” Zarina’s voice was distant as she remembered some of the worst times of the last year. “It’s not healthy though.”

[dreadfulpanic-blog]

—     “Yeah I guess it is...,” Panic mumbled. He kind of liked Panic, just because it gave him an identity other than just Matthew, but he didn’t have much of an opinion either way. The decision wasn’t his to make. 

He thought about it for a minute. No, it wasn’t healthy. But neither were the copious amounts of caffeine he drank or the junk food he ate. Or the line of work he was in, or the people he hung around with. Wait, could a person be healthy? Other than in a physical sense? He didn’t know.

“Guess not. But that’s what... it is, right?” He laughed nervously. 

[squirrel-and-thepizzaman]

[lovestoriesend]

[dreadfulpanic-blog]

—     Panic looked right. Then left. Then right again, his eye twitching. His hands were shaking and wringing together like no tomorrow. Today was always one of his most hated days. Friday the 13th. There was literally a horror movie by the same name! Oh, and he worried so much about all the bad stuff that could happen. It was almost as bad as Halloween. So there Panic sat, refusing to do anything, just looking around and twitching.

“Oh, this is no good. Not good at all. Not good in any capacity. I hope I don’t see a black cat. Or break a mirror... again.”

[lanetsezer]

[lovestoriesend]

[pelekaish-deactivated20180802]

“I mean….it really is though….like dude, I need to have a clean reputation. My living situation relies on me not getting into shit like this.”

[dreadfulpanic-blog]

—     “We won’t get caught,” Panic stammered. “Hopefully. It would help if you didn’t say anything.” Right to keep silent and all that shit. Panic knew the Miranda Rights better than he’d like to admit. Thanks, Hades!

[ofoveralls-deactivated20160922]

“Okay,” she shrugged and let the subject drop. Once they got the the coffee shop, she opened the door for them and made a face. “That doesn’t get rid of the coffee taste.” 

[dreadfulpanic-blog]

—     Panic thought for a moment, how best to explain coffee to her. There isn’t really a good way to do so, he decided. So he would just order something for her and hoped she liked it. “Not supposed to get rid of,” he said, his sentences fragmenting from anxiety of having to talk to the cashier. “Just make bearable.”

[theroaadsofar]