tell me i'm exceptional, i promise to exploit you

dusty marsh. that girl. forever strumming. currently watching: freaks & geeks

[dustymarsh]

Meet Dusty Marsh

about page / musings / connections below!

longish bio oops // tldr version: is a former rebellious teen, with incredible adoptive parents, has 3 jobs, and killed her twin brother and became a vamp within the last month argargarg 

i. The brother and sister duo bounced around homes until at age 10 they were taken in for good by a married couple, the Marshes. Combined they possessed enough patience to last an eternity, which was necessary in raising havoc causing twins. Shay and Royal Marsh did not like to think of what would’ve happened to the twins had they never fallen in love with their rambunctious souls. From day one, the couple was able to communicate with the twins in ways no one else could. Trouble still arose quite often and that was fine, because Dusty and Woods were comfortable approaching their parents with the tough shit. Dusty learned that wasn’t common among her friends, who were often shamed for their wrongdoings by their own flesh and blood. That’s fucked, she remember thinking from that young age.

ii. Woods became an ethereum miner, finding he didn’t mind long hours and dirty work when the pay was damn adequate. Dusty actually finished school, earning degrees in both early childhood development and community work. That’s when life got real busy for the former rebellious teen. First, her mornings were filled with an A.M. kindergarten class at a diverse-species primary school in Obsidian City. Then, not long after, Dusty got involved in helping put on community productions in the Theater District. And lastly (and obviously her favorite), Dusty got to live out the rockstar dream. She’s in an all girl rock band, strumming weekly on the bass and electric guitar. All and all, Dusty’s schedule is packed, hardly any breathing room for herself, let alone time to check in with her brother.

iii. Somewhere along the way, Woods started to distance himself from the family. Dusty, Dusty, Dusty was all his parents chatted about over supper. All of her achievements since she’d grown while he remained the very same. He felt because he’d chosen a life of labor, he was now an unworthy outsider. It led him down a scary path of dealing the ethereum he was mining illegally. Not only could he have been caught by superiors, he was getting himself involved with the shadiest of beings on the island. The expected finally happened. He cut short a promised delivery to a clan of vampires. They threatened him, but the threats fell upon deaf ears, which really was unfortunate. His twin sister received the brunt of it. As a sick twist of fate, before they could celebrate their shared 30th birthday, Dusty was bitten. She was undead, but dead, because she was now a vampire.

iv. That was not the end of Woods’ torture. His sister awoke with a bloodlust like no other. And with no one to stop Dusty from pursuing the natural urges that being a monster entailed, she was led to her twin. Woods was her very first feeding, the feeding that solidified her future as an immortal. He was dead and drained completely by the time Dusty was finished. Her grief, of course, was immeasurable. Without a soul to guide her through transition, Dusty has been struggling and fights the frequent urge to feed from more humans. Nobody can know, or everything changes. Not Shay and Royal, nor her bandmates, or the co-workers at the elementary school. To cover her own tracks, she’s allowed Obsidian City to believe her twin, Woods Marsh, was a drug dealer. A drug dealer who’s disappeared after mixing himself up in an incorrect crowd. The only people looking for him now were their parents.

+

connections: Let’s search for the rumored Keys of Ember, a set of five magical and charmed keys once belonging to an elder (and now deceased) fae named Embertine. No key has EVER been found. Until... now. What doth they unlock? Well, the keeper of the keys will have said treasure revealed to them when each one is in their possession.

looking for 1-2 other individuals with their own skillsets and motivations for wanting to find this hidden/rumored treasure

this plot will be “slowburn” and involve heavy, gritty themes at times and require a lil lil dedication b/c i would love to build some island lore with you all!

also would love to build deep connections from this plot so come prepared to cry!!!! LMAO

[dustymarsh]

screamingspector​:

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Zyrynd hid his disappointment, instead feigning interest in her musical endeavors. “Oh?” he asked. “You mean you’ve been writing music or you’ve been playing around some more?” He knew she had been part of a group of some sort. If he were being honest, he had only paid minimal attention to any of that, never caring about her career goals in a way that he retained anything she might have revealed about her musical aspirations. It was all very boring, but he didn’t let any of that show through. 

“Bloodhearth,” he repeated. “We’ll have to make sure we’re well armed there.” Zyrynd for his part did not venture into that particular territory. It was filled with brutish redcaps who were too stupid to stop fighting long enough to try and do something about their dilapidated territory. “Well, I’ll have to arm. You may be able to hold your own as is,” he amended. “But you know, if you’re too busy, they definitely can.” He would almost prefer it, really. 

Zyrynd looked at her rather amused by her next question. He should have been expecting it. “I see you as a friend. I see you as someone who is a lot more vulnerable and fragile than you let on. Someone who’s been through a lot of tragedy and needs a gentle touch every now and again, even if you might insist otherwise.” He looked at her sympathetically.

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Not many people asked about her. It hadn’t been fished for. She even remembered a time Zyrynd had said he recognized her voice as if he’d heard her sing more than once over the years. She did not smile, but the tension inside her frown began to massage away because more than a stranger cared to ask. “I have trouble finishing my thoughts, like my songs. I’ve finally completed an entire thing, with a melody in mind. Can you believe that?” She was more so asking herself, having not ever shared much of this with literally... anyone. “Once I can get some studio time in, the island might finally have something better than cover bands to listen to.”

Into an ashtray, she flicked away the mess at the end of her Ethereum cigarette. “It might be better off for the experts to solve, anyways. But I need to go along. I have to witness everything myself. I wouldn’t feel complete without-” she inhaled shakily. Every thought of Woods was overbearing. How was she meant to complete his treasure hunt in this state? Dusty was back to trembling, half from fear of the past and half from the thrill of Zyrynd’s words.

Her right leg bumped up and down rapidly as she listened. “Nobody’s ever handled me with care a day in my life. I could tattoo fragile to my forehead and still be dropped. You know that, right? I could scream it out loud, and-” she snapped for dramatic effect. “M’glad you’re my friend,” and she hoped that gentleness would follow. She didn’t ask for it, though. Any time she asked for something, she didn’t receive what she wished for. Something about not deserving it. Dusty squeezed his knee shortly and broke eye contact to look away.

[dustymarsh]

nadiacattaneo​:

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“It’s not the eighteen-hundreds,” Nadia replied dryly. Besides, death by plank was too slow for her liking. If she had one though, it suddenly seemed quite appealing, given how much this woman seemed to walk it. “Given I’m not keeping you here, you can do whatever you want.” Nadia held tight onto the jewels though, lest she take it seriously.

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“Soon enough history will repeat itself and let me be the first to say, I can’t wait to watch your great-grandchildren walk the plank over and over again after I turn them into bloodsucking monsters.” Dusty eyed the jewels with pursed lips, then gave a wave goodbye. She’d return another day, now that she knew who to watch out for. “Anywho, toodles, jewel wench.”

the end. 🎸

[dustymarsh]

screamingspector​:

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“Yes, I can see it stuck with you,” he said. “You know, not everyone is going to see you in the same manner. Some may see you as a sibling and others as more and some will see you as a tragedy but many more see you as a celebrity. Not sure how fair it is that we all assume everyone will have the same, singular view of you. That’s what’s so nice about life most of the time, isn’t it? We are not beholden to just one perspective. We get many.” It wasn’t a characteristic view of others, but then again, Zyrynd was not about to punch her when she was already down. There was no point, especially when they still had treasure to go out and find together. “Like I said, I don’t think there’s any point in holding anything anyone thinks of me too near and dear, depending on what it is and if I like it. If I don’t, then why make myself suffer?”

He held out a lighter for her. Zyrynd went ahead and took out a cigarette for himself, producing another lighter and lighting it for himself. “Have you found out anymore more about this little treasure hunt of yours, by the way?” It was asked casually, as if the answer didn’t matter.

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Dusty only wished she could be that strong. You could talk a big game but it was your actions that spoke for who you were. Her shoulders were slumped in regret and he did not seem affected by a damn thing anyone thought of him. The lowest was always spat at the rich boys of the city. As was the highest. Besides, perhaps he did not see Dusty as a sister, or anything for that matter, for the simple fact that he was fulfilled and she wasn’t. Their common ground, besides death and their treasure, was their drug habit. It was the one time she could drag him down to her level. She looked forward to that tonight, inhaling deep as her cigarette was lit and the subject was changed.

“I’ve been working on music.” All to say, no, nothing new had surfaced. “I haven’t spent as much time digging. But I think we’re headed to Bloodhearth next based off the pattern. Fun.” Dusty should’ve felt shame for slowing her roll after finding the last key in Wailing Waters, but writing inspiration rarely hit her enough to complete a whole song and she’d finally done it. She wasn’t lying or making excuses to Zyrynd, at least. That was somewhat refreshing. “I’m half tempted to allow your experts to take over the research part completely,” she chewed at her lip while looking out the window. She could trust him now to go that far.

She circled right back around, because how could she not? This was gnawing at the back of her mind. “What do you see me as?” Dusty’s head turned back to him, her eyes peering into his and not snapping away. He’d be forced to answer her question.

[dustymarsh]

screamingspector​:

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To say that Zyrynd was caught off guard would be putting it mildly. His forehead wrinkled as he looked at her, trying to figure out why she might ask such a question. He should be used to it, really. Dusty wasn’t exactly easy to figure out. On the surface she might seem to be very one-dimensional. However, Zyrynd had longed since learned that not only are people complex, but they had a knack for also being surprising. He wasn’t sure he always liked the idea of being surprised, though this did seem harmless enough. 

“Uh, no,” he said. “I don’t. Never have and don’t see myself considering you a sister in the near future.” He wasn’t sure if that was the answer she was wanting to hear or not. She had lost a brother after all. “Dare I ask why you’d want to know?”

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Dusty chuckled softly to herself, tangled hair moving with her as she shook her head and searched her pockets for an Ethereum cigarette. “Just something somebody said once. Stuck with me.” That’s as far as Dusty went into her explanation. It was so easy to share every piece of herself with strangers, but with the people she knew, she couldn’t waste their time with stupid, immature tales. “I bet anything anyone’s ever told you just bounces right off of you like you’re rubber. I’m that glue everyone talks about.” She licked her lips free of whiskey, setting her empty glass aside. “Think I lost my lighter in all that... murder back there. And you say you’ve got everything to offer, so do you have a light?”

[dustymarsh]

screamingspector​:

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“Dusty, I have money. I don’t know that I’ll ever run out of anything to give,” said Zyrynd. He knew that wasn’t what she was referring to. She meant the idea that people often took advantage of others, only taking what they wanted when they needed it and never giving anything in return. He had seen it happen often in various relationships: friendships, romances. However, Zyrynd thought he had plenty to give. Why not?

“You know, I do love a transactional relationship where both people benefit. You know, I give something to you and then you give me something in return. That’s how most relationships work, I think. However, I also know that many times, when people are friends, there comes a point where you can give and give and expect nothing in return. And that’s okay, because the relationship has gotten to a point where you don’t expect anything in return. And so I’m telling you, I don’t expect anything in return.” 

Zyrynd paused to take a sip of his drink. “And maybe, yes, the day I need a favor from you, I’d hope you’d agree to do it.” He shrugged as if it weren’t a big deal. As if it were inconsequential one way or another. “However, there may never be a day I need something from you, and things will remain as they are between you and me.”

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Romanticizing most situations is one of the only ways Dusty made it through each day, besides the steady supply of drugs she’d blown half a dozen millionaires for. If she read between the lines enough with her rose-colored goggles, she might’ve thought Zyrynd was saying he cared for her. Dusty would never be the type to give so much and never ask for a thing in return herself. Even a single favor wouldn’t make up for the drugs she’d be asking for as soon as they were up inside Zyrynd’s penthouse in the city. If she told herself he cared, much like her parents did, then maybe she could get by without feeling she owed him every dime, inch, and piece of herself. That did pose another worry, however.

Dusty mimicked his pause, sipping generously and allowing the temporary warmth to ignite her next question, “You don’t see me as your sister, do you?”

[dustymarsh]

screamingspector​:

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Zyrynd watched in interest as she wiped a bit of blood off his wrist. He looked back at her, curiously. “Death is unavoidable on an island like this,” he said simply. “I don’t think there isn’t one person here who isn’t affected by it in one way or another.” 

He didn’t answer her question right away. The answer was some place in between and he only wondered how honest he should be with her given the circumstance. “I had started to see something. I also happened to see you disappearing into some warehouses, and I thought better to follow you. You never know, especially in that area. Besides, we really only see death when we’re near enough to it.” He knew if it wasn’t her, it would be someone, and he figured it ought to be someone else. For all of Dusty’s faults, he wasn’t sure that she ought to die. 

“After drugs?” he asked now. “You know, I always have whatever you’re looking for,” he pointed out. 

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At that, Dusty remembered an earlier conversation of theirs. Her mind was so hazy from the event and the last few weeks that she couldn’t remember if they’d spoken at the benefit concert or the Halloween masquerade, but she’d heard him say this before, and now she understood all the more why. Death was unavoidable to him. Dusty figured you were meant to shield yourself with a coat of armor of your own making when you faced it most days. There was no wonder he was so... cold, was the best word she could use. She was cold too, but mostly physically.

No ability was black and white, she knew as he told her. In fact, the entire island existed in a shade of grey. Dusty thought being a vampire would grant her special skills, but it took time to acquire then master these abilities. She could not hear heartbeats, but she could hear veins. Then, if you focus on the coursing bloodstream long enough, you’d make it to the heart. She was sure the most experienced vampires would know what she was feeling before she did. Dusty was as lost as ever, but his offering along with the warmth of his skin at the cuff of his sleeve was inviting. As if she’d been given a direction.

“You can only offer so much of yourself, till there’s nothing left to give. You’ve given me lots already.” The sizable donation for Woods’ funeral, the partnership through the masquerade circles of hell, and his resources towards their treasure hunt were only a few to name. The road they’d taken let her know they were not going to Treaty Towers either. She didn’t deserve any of this. She sunk back into the seat beside him, hands cupping around the glass. “And I ain’t got anything left to offer anyone, honestly, so I haven’t asked you.” These days, almost every sentence she spoke sounded like a plea for help. “I know I’m a user, but m’not trying to use the couple people who help out when they can.”

[dustymarsh]

nadiacattaneo​:

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Nadia didn’t bat an eyelid at the woman’s woe-is-me act. She didn’t particularly care for it from anyone. “No, I won’t be,” she also didn’t care for taking out the trash, as it were. She would keep a close eye, but eventually she knew this woman would get bored and move on. She reached down and picked up the necklace that only moments before had been in the purse. “I was merely curious. It’s a rare piece.” It would take a while to sell, she knew that, but when it did – well, the entire crew would be happy.

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“Curiosity has killed a couple on these docks before,” she chuckled softly. It was easy to make threats in the face of danger, but Dusty knew she’d feel sick to her stomach all day long for bringing up the death of that damn pirate again. She still did not know his name and he existed in the front of her brain to this day. “Are you going to take me to the plank to walk or am I free to go? I’ve always wanted to see a plank. You get splinters cleaning it?”

[dustymarsh]

screamingspector​:

Zyrynd leaned forward to let his driver know they should go to his penthouse in Obsidian City. The car began to move obediently and the partition moved up to allow the two of them some privacy and just like that, the car was on its way to his home. 

Of course, this was a luxury car, which meant it came with luxury amenities and Zyrynd opened up an inconspicuous armrest and took out a bottle of liquor. It was a dark malt whiskey. “Drink?” he asked. Sure, Dusty hadn’t had a chance to wipe the blood that specked her face, but Zyrynd knew Dusty and he knew how she already coped with the horrors she dealt with. He went ahead and grabbed two glasses and poured the liquid into each, passing one to her. 

“I can’t imagine a slow death is wanted,” said Zyrynd as he shook his head. “I don’t imagine knowing you’re dying and it taking time is comforting.” However, despite what may have been seen as a crass way of responding to what might have felt like a traumatic event, Zyrynd put on a sympathetic face as Dusty went on. Even as she asked her question, he gave her a look. “I’m a banshee. I see death all the time. Do you know how many people I am near that are on the verge of their deaths that I see in advance?” he asked. That was true. In a city that was so full of people who were being killed whether by natural or unnatural causes, he had seen it plenty. “It follows me whether I like it or not. I can’t avoid it, with or without ethereum.” It was a good explanation for why he wasn’t shaken having just killed a man.

.

Dying fast would’ve felt like a blessing to some, but Dusty had answers and her guilty conscience had needed relieving when Woods had met his demise. He deserved to know it was all an accident, despite its cruel and vicious nature. Woods flooded her thoughts, poor Harvey and whoever had met their end in the warehouse tonight not fleeting anywhere nearby for her. She was quite selfish, but after the yacht ride with Zyrynd and his employees, she knew the mess would be cleaned up by morning. She could afford to be selfish at this moment because he’d bought her the time to be, trembling hands folding around a glass of crystal filled with whiskey. 

When you were as cold as Dusty existed, she could feel the heat of the alcohol before it hit her lips and traveled through her body. “I thought I could avoid it if I tried, but-” There was no use in continuing since he’d seen the deaths as much as she. A cocktail napkin had been plucked up to wipe at a speck of blood she’d noticed at his wrist. “Can’t have you looking even a bit out of place,” she uttered under her breath. Dusty could appear day in and out looking completely out of place, but she couldn’t allow it for the man she’d grown to know better. He wasn’t the same person she’d grown up beside as a teenager and the vampire was finally learning to respect what he’d worked to earn and become. Jealousy took a long time to form into something else.

“Was I going to die?” she asked, drawing her own conclusions. “Had you seen my death or was this all a happy accident?”

[dustymarsh]

screamingspector​:

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Zyrynd nodded. “Yeah, it’s me,” he confirmed. He could only assume the trauma of walking in on such a scene may have left her blindsided by his sudden appearance. He looked at her, his eyes searching hers as if to make sure that she was alright. She seemed unharmed, but then again, her vampire abilities made sure that she was quick to heal. He supposed that was for the better. It meant she was whole and fine, even if mentally she might still be seeing the scene that was laid out before her. 

He waited for Dusty, and was surprised when her arms suddenly moved towards him. “Oh.” He didn’t fight it, though. Instead he put an arm around her, patting her back. He could feel just how cold she was from the simple motion. “I’ve been here this whole time. Obviously not in this warehouse, but certainly around.” 

Zyrynd stood up straight so that he could look at her. He knew it wasn’t what she was asking, but he wasn’t entirely sure what she was trying to ask one way or another. “Come on. My car is out here,” he said as he gently placed a hand on the small of her back, guiding her out of the warehouse, away from the heinous scene that had been left there. By the time any sort of authority arrived, it would be gone and cleared away. He pointed to his car, still waiting right where he’d left it and opened the door for Dusty so that she could get in, before he followed. “Yours or mine?” he asked. 

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It hadn’t occurred to Dusty that she had a type when it came to her cravings -- alive. Because not a drop of the blood splattered across the warehouse appealed to the vampire’s lust. It’s all which scrolled through her seemingly empty mind, body on auto-pilot. Nobody would be able to tell if it were her own legs or Zyrynd’s guidance which led the leggy redhead away from the scene of the crime. The gunshots must’ve alert officers and yet, these thoughts did not dawn nor worry the already burdened soul. It could’ve been one man who died or an entire thirty people who’d been massacred before her very eyes by this man, and she could only drawn one conclusion. How utterly safe she felt, knowing she was not alone in murder anymore.

Before she could understand, the warmth of his car had welcomed her into its arms. Their appearances were stark with differences. Dusty’s nails were dirtied, her skirt too out of place for this time of night, and a coat too out of place for the season. Her hair was frizzy consistently and if you’d looked at her, you’d know she hadn’t washed her face all day. The crime hadn’t brought her to tears, but somehow, harsh eyeliner still smudged her rims. 

She picked at a run in her black tights, glossy eyes keeping trained to look outside the window as buildings began to move past them, “Take me wherever I deserve to be.” It was a depressing request.

Dusty should’ve had enough composure to keep her limbs from trembling, but she constantly shook these days. She was full of anxiety. She was constantly missing a hit of what was next. She’d forgotten all about the drugs she’d travelled so far and desperately for, however. The partition rose, because he was respected. Dusty wanted to feel that respected. But with the privacy, she allowed herself to speak freely. Honestly, the privacy would not stopped her in this moment.

“People die so fast... I did, before I was turned. I thought I’d be able to plead with Woods. See his eyes once more before the life drained, but it’s not how it happened.” The relevance wasn’t necessarily there, but did that matter? “I haven’t been able to speak to a soul about any of this.” Besides her song lyrics, which were now utterly haunted. “Who would understand it?” Dusty’s eyes finally flickered away from the view of Wailing, to the man who’d stopped her from dying again tonight. Or... killing again tonight. “You’d understand it, wouldn’t you? I’m not alone in this, am I?” She licked her lips, voice hardly a whisper as she questioned her sanity, “Does death follow you, too?”

[dustymarsh]

screamingspector​:

Zyrynd was in his car, looking at his phone and texting back and forth about some changes that were wanting to be made with the menu at his coffee shops. So many CEOs were stupid. Zyrynd knew the difference between him and every other business man is that he actually understood the consumer. He understood that shuffling things around could be harmful. People feared what was new and unknown. Of course, it might not hurt to add new things to the existing menu, but to just take away old options and try to replace them with something new? Absolutely not. There was customer loyalty in the old menu items and he was unwilling to compromise. He said as much in his message back. 

Looking up from his phone as he drove through Wailing Waters, the various buildings and sights moved past. The car wasn’t going too quickly due to traffic, so he had time to take in the various people who walked along the streets, their appearances able to be taken in. In fact, he was almost certain he saw someone who looked remarkably like a familiar face disappearing down an alleyway by a series of warehouses.

Wailing Waters being known for its gambling and brothel meant that shadier characters tended to linger. Shady people existed everywhere on the island, of course, but it was especially true of Wailing Waters. The type of people who were attracted to these businesses made sense. The perfectly legal casino and brothel simply attracted a specific sort of crowd and oftentimes it could be dangerous. Although the red hair had disappeared quickly, he was quite certain as to who it had been. 

“Pull over here,” he told his driver, who obediently did as he was told, the car smoothly parallel parking into a space. Zyrynd exited the car and disappeared among the warehouses himself. 

“What’s this redhead doing here?”

Zyrynd moved onto the scene. Being a banshee and given that he was almost always on some level of ethereum, he’d already seen the scene play out before him, so his actions played out smoothly. He was quick to disarm the gunman. Zyrynd might not look it, but he knew how to hold his own. And once the gun had dropped, he had taken it up and didn’t hesitate. One. Two. Three shots rang out into the warehouse. They echoed and the anonymous threat fell motionless. Blood splattered and Zyrynd dropped the gun, quick to turn towards Dusty. 

“Are you okay?” 

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Dusty’s back had remained turned to the crime. It could’ve been her time to be taken away, whether it was to heaven or the silence of six feet under, she had accepted it. She stayed still, hoping whatever shot rang out to take her life took her quickly. And she did hope, she hope it’d come. Because forever suddenly felt too long if these darkened corners if what she’d been destined to face now. The circles around her eyes seemed lived in and not those of a former kindergarten teacher. The tracks on her arms might’ve healed within hours each time she used, but you could not mistake how strung out of her mind she was. Because when she turned around, it was a pair of brown eyes she thought would be meeting hers. 

The frame had nearly been identical in height, but the eyes? Dusty had been greeted with blue eyes, nearly as cold as her own. “Zyrynd?” she breathed, in disbelief. “It’s-- it’s... you.” Dusty had been blinded to a lot in her life, and suddenly it felt her friendship with him felt to be one of them. “It’s you,” she hadn’t expected him. It’d taken more than the two diving to the bottom of the ocean for Dusty to realize how much he was on her team, as much as she was. 

And he’d killed them. He’d killed them for her and at a sudden, Dusty’s arms were folding around Zyrynd’s middle to pull him close. No one had yet been so bold to show their true self to her. Dusty had lived inside of the guilt of the death of Woods. Of the random pirate, she still did not know the name. Inside of Courtney. In an instant, Zyrynd had evened the playing field. Her cold limbs fell away from his warm ones, holding herself up as she’d taught herself to. She was definitely not okay, and hadn’t been for so long. “Where’ve you been all this time?” What a loaded question. 

[dustymarsh]

WHEN: May 15, 2023 WHERE: Somewhere in Wailing Waters WHO: Dusty + Zyrynd ( @screamingspector )

Dusty had gone out of her way today, to meet with her dealer. He had texted her multiple times about being tied up in business near Wailing Waters, but that had not stopped her desperation from leading her here in an attempt to gain what she needed hours fasters. She was tired of dealers always making her wait. And as she’d been reminded by a few strangers over the past month: she was Dusty fuckin’ Marsh. She waited for nobody. She’d at least had the decency to warn him she was nearby with another text, exiting her Uber. She’d ridden the train, then used a coupon on Uber while ridesharing with somebody else. 

Dusty watched as the red taillights disappeared along the horizon, bringing the coat in close to her person as she wandered the desolate streets for the location he’d sent her way. The building numbers weren’t easy to read, but soon she realized it was a warehouse she was meant to enter. This should have been alarming, but in the ten months she’d been a vampire, fear had slowly melted away. She’d face God, she’d face the Devil. She believed nothing could make her quake, because this world would always be unsafe as it was yesterday and would be tomorrow.

She was going to call out her dealer’s name, but the scene she’d stumbled upon had silenced any sound. Her dealer looked to have been beaten. Beaten to death, she’d assume, her stomach turning at the brain matter which spattered nearby walls as he slumped over in a metal chair. “Harvey?”

The scent of his blood was so overwhelming, she didn’t hear the shuffling and clicking of a gun from behind her until they’d announced themselves. She’d come here to claim some semblance of power back inside of her life, and it seemed it was only going to be taken back.

“What’s this redhead doing here?”

[dustymarsh]

whatisbloodworth​:

Oumar wanted to ask what she meant by people like her. He wanted to point out that she had invited him, a perfect stranger, to her home and had bought him food. Even if she demanded payment, what was the worst she’d do? Kick him out onto the streets where he lived, anyway? No, Oumar didn’t believe it when she lumped herself into a group of people who were meant to be avoided. Perhaps it was the naive optimism just taking over, but people often showed themselves in ways they might never think. 

He didn’t say anything, though. He nodded as if to show he understood. Truth be told, Oumar knew that people who came off as unkind and cool often didn’t want their kindness pointed out. It was as if that might ruin their street credibility (or whatever sort of credibility they were attempting to keep up) and so he would afford her that, not saying anything that might have her deciding she ought to be more overtly mean just to prove him wrong (even then, Oumar would believe it was only being done to make a point and not because she was meant to be an awful person). 

So, he didn’t say anything. He watched her leave and come back with food. He decided the biggest surprise of all would not be to say she was wrong or right, but instead to move on altogether. Besides, as someone who liked to live in the moment, Oumar did that, taking his shakes and burger happily and living in that moment with a proper meal and some comfort, even if just for the moment.

the end.

[dustymarsh]

nadiacattaneo​:

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Nadia’s laugh was different. Soft, musical, yet laced with an obvious layer of cruelness. Irony had her with no patience for thieves, although she was one herself. She wouldn’t be a victim of her own crime. “Of course you’re not. You’d hardly be capable.”

.

“You sound like- everyone I’ve ever met, hah,” Dusty’s brows shot up in amusement. You’re hardly capable wouldn’t be a bad line in a song, or something along those lines. The bitterness towards the sentiment soon settled into the vampire’s dilated pupils as she glared onwards, “So’re you going to be the one to remove me? This song and dance have been fun this far.”

[dustymarsh]

whatisbloodworth​:

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Oumar’s eyebrows rose slightly. For some reason, he couldn’t see her as a teacher. It was surprising, but in a good way. He didn’t say as much, though, instead listening as she explained the experience, taking the cigarette she offered him. “You know, that makes a lot of sense,” he nodded. “Learning you’re a teacher and then being able to teach yourself, or I guess it’s not so much teaching yourself, but being open to learning on your own.” People often saw it as being your own teacher, but in reality it was more about the act of gaining new knowledge, wasn’t it? Some people were just more open to it

He blew the smoke from his mouth, passing the cigarette back. “If I were scared, I don’t know that I would have come here alone. Or at all.” His eyebrows raised as if to say that was a ridiculous notion. It was, though. Oumar could sometimes be seen as naive and viewing the world through rose-colored lenses, but he was far from stupid either. 

“Do I need a reason to be nice? I mean, world kind of suck as it is. I just don’t want to be another reason it sucks, you know? You ever having a bad day? And I don’t mean the bad days that some people consider to be most of their lives, but the really, awful sort of day where nearly nothing is going right. You wake up and right from the get-go, you have no hot water, you’ve run out of toothpaste, you have no clean laundry and hey, you trip while you’re trying to get to the train station smelling like the gym at the end of the day and break your nose in the process. That sort of bad day. I like to think that maybe I can be the saving grace for that one person. Having someone do something nice for no reason in the middle of a bad day, a bad week or bad year can be all you need to feel good again. So, why not be nice?”

.

“People say you’re meant to give out the energy you wish to receive, but that’s never the case. Opposites attract always. You put out enough kindness into the world and you’ll earn the worst people as your friends. One day you’ll wake up amazed you’re surrounded by so many great people who need your laughter and advice to survive. And one night you’ll go to bed empty because that’s all you are to them. You’ll try to recall the time they’d asked about you, cared about you, supported you in the ways you’d done for them and you’ll come up empty and you’ll turn bitter and really fucking sour.” The next inhale of the cigarette was sharp and deep. “I’m not saying be cruel. But don’t ever overextend kindness for those who don’t fucking deserve it. People like me.” Dusty was speaking on the experience of both ends now, kindness and cruelty as volatile as the other if you compared their pros and cons.

A ring of Dusty’s phone cut through her explanation, causing her to push herself up from the carpet and back to her feet. “You’ll disagree with me and I will find it really annoying, but guess what? I’m going to fetch our food, so you hold that thought and tell me how wrong I am when I get back. Or better yet, surprise me by telling me I’m right. Nobody ever fucking surprises me these days.” 

The next time Oumar would see her, her frail arms would be filled with enough food and shakes to get them through the night. Sometime within the elevator ride down, she’d taken a hit of something off the back of her hand. Her heart and head had a way of making every subject feel heavy, even when the boy she was talking with was all smiles.

[dustymarsh]

nadiacattaneo​:

Nadia’s first thought, her first instinct — no price that you can afford. Her eyes washed over the woman as she placed back the necklace and managed to bite back the comment. It wasn’t from any desire to be kind, no, Nadia would’ve happily said such a thing to anyone, but she was intrigued. “How much would you have resold it for?”

.

Dusty’s laugh was loud and dry, considering the amount of cotton mouth she was experiencing at the moment. You could count on the rockstar to have a stash of liquid somewhere inside her slouchy satchel. She cleared her throat, lifting a flask of only God knows to her lips. And then, she laughed again, “I am not your fucking appraiser, sweetheart.”

[dustymarsh]

kai-pak​:

It was a bad idea, anyone could tell him that. His sister would, his parents, his parole officer. Even he himself could, but he didn’t listen. Although it was the theft that landed Kai in jail, an act of good, of support for his gran, that didn’t mean Kai didn’t do other questionable things that easily could’ve landed him in jail earlier — that risked his early release status. And hey, he’d held out this long. What was one night?

Taking her hand, he stuffed the other in the pocket of his jeans, thumb rolling distractedly over the smooth service of his empty lighter, leading the way.

If Kai had thought the bar he’d been in before was a shit hole, then the spot he lead them too was a shit-well. No one who was seeking a respectable night out would go there. Sure, the bachelorette party at the last place were probably disappearing in pairs to sniff away in the bathroom, but at least here no one was screaming ABBA at him. The lone bouncer barely even acknowledged them as they entered the bar. It was dark, and a low kind of music was playing, the kind that strung together perfectly to enhance the senses. But it was quiet in the way Kai liked. Enough people to disappear into their night, but not too many either. “What’re you drinking?” He asked, nodding to the bar.

.

Dusty hadn’t chosen this man out of the dozens to be floored by. In her thirty years, no fairytale had walked into her life and she would not waste a breath waiting for them to. Down a deep dark hole is what Dusty was led through time and time again. If it was not done by own self, she could count on the kindness of a stranger to keep her in line. They were lowly, trash, and meant to be sipping liquor in these questionable confines. Dusty fit in with ease, letting go of his hand to wander deeper into the trenches. “I will have whatever you are,” seemed to be the appropriate response. She’d coursed him thus far but was ready to see what world Kai had to offer her. Her world was out on the table in an instant, drugs for all to see.

the end. 🎸