"Iâm havinâ âa long dayâ, I believe is the phrase."
"Well you're just gonna have to deal with it then. I ain't having one of mine killed off because they're 'having a long day'."
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@huntingalexia
"Iâm havinâ âa long dayâ, I believe is the phrase."
"Well you're just gonna have to deal with it then. I ain't having one of mine killed off because they're 'having a long day'."
"No itâs not."
"You clearly dont know who I am."
"Youâre terribly rude, arenât you?"
"Apparently so."
"Iâm a Blight, I donât opt to eat the flesh of others.. not even if Iâm starving and about to die. It just.. it doesnât sounds right.."Â
"I'm a gang leader, not a fucking cannibal."
"âŚThe hell are you lookinâ at?"
"Is that really how you're gonna talk to me?"
"Doesnât means everything living in it must be cruel and inhumane.."Â
"No, it doesn't. That comes with being a Blight."
"Thatâs.. really gross."Â
"No. That's tame."
"Donât tell me what to do."
"I'll tell you to do whatever the fuck I want to tell you to do."
âOuch. Iâm offended!â
"Good. Next time I won't be so pleasant."
"No, no, I didnât throw it at you, I swear. What? I didnât! Would you tell him I didnât?"
"I don't care who threw it."
lexi hunter | moodboard [2/?]
"Thatâs a bit inhumane, donât you think?"
"This is the fringe. Deal with it."
    âPulling out someone elseâs hair doesnât seem like a fair trade off for my suggestion.â
"Dealing with a whiny kid isn't a fair trade for me."
"The streets would look better in red."
"Start painting then."
"I'd rather rip your hair from your scalp and eat it than do that."
Humanity; [lexi+trix]
In a world filled with suffering and oppression it shouldnât be surprising that confusion was rooted into every kind or pleasant act, anything that didnât have a directly negative effect. But still it was confusing and still it was difficult to understand. When you get so used to something its counterpart becomes so alien to you that it scares you. Positivity scares you. It terrifies you. There must be a catch, a loop hole of some sort, a way out, a double bluff. Nothing could be viewed at face value. Even if you trust someone completely it can take away your understanding. Maybe even your understanding of why you trust them, why you would do anything for them. There was no way to understand that. No book you could read or class you could take. It was just unfathomable and it would stay like that.
Thatâs what Trix felt as she bit down on her lower lip and studied her friend as she finished her explanation. It wasnât so much an explanation as a rambling of what escaped her comprehension. Those topics being, as put so eloquently by the Gypsy Queen herself: everything. Trix knew that feeling all too well when stress kept her awake at night and she ran circles in her own mind, never able to find a beginning or an end. In her own feelings Trix had cracked what it was that was plaguing Lexi but she was either oblivious to it or didnât dare to let herself think that Lexi could feel the same way.
Against her mind telling her not to, Trix took Lexiâs hand and gripped it between both of hers, her fingers wrapping tightly around the otherâs. She did so to focus the other woman onto her and only her, but she also did so just because she wanted to. Sometimes she just couldnât help herself and did what she wanted because she could; sometimes even when she couldnât or shouldnât she would do it anyway. With the heat of Lexiâs hand passing into her palms, Trix locked her intense eyes onto her companionâs, her features remaining controlled apart from the shimmer of concern around the edges of her blue gaze. Â
âThatâs okay, though, honey. No one understands everythinâ. Like me, I donât understand a hell of a lot and itâs fuckinâ confusing,â she paused for a moment, her eyes scanning over Lexiâs expressive features. She then took a breath and nodded slightly before resuming in her calming, soothing tone of voice, âBut I do understand that you can do this and keep on goinâ on because youâre a fighter, sweet baby, anâ thatâs what you do. Anâ I understand that those Gypsies of yours fight anâ cut each other up but theyâre still a gang because you lead âem anâ they see somethinâ in you else they wouldnât bother. Cut throats donât bother unless they got somethinâ worth followinâ, baby girl. Anâ I understand that we can get though this together, whatever this is, because thatâs what we do, Lexi. What weâve always done.â
Her eyebrows pulled together causing a dainty furrow to form on her brow as she spoke and the intensity in her gaze softened fractionally as she relaxed. Trix was aware of her relaxation but she wouldnât let it slip completely. The focus wasnât on her at that moment in time and she would keep it that way for as long as humanly possible. That way she was less likely to fuck things up again. She kept a firm grip on the chains holding her wall up and sheâd be damned if she let them drop again.
Trix kept her fingers wrapped around Lexiâs even after sheâd spoken. Where one of Lexiâs digits was being held against the inside of Trixâs hand she could feel her faint pulse beating in its tip. It was rhythmic and repetitive. It was comforting. It was like a drum thumping faintly off in the distance. So constant that it faded into other background noise but continued to diligently do its job and beat away even if it was under appreciated. It held the orchestra together and kept the chorus singing but it remained unnoticed by the crowds. It wasnât unnoticed by Trix and it certainly wasnât under appreciated.
At Lexiâs mini rant and then bitter sweet smile, a humoured smile of her own crowned itself upon Trixâs lips. Trust Lexi to turn it into a mini rant. Only she had the ability and the sheer will to manage that. Thatâs what amused the Syndicate leader more than the topic because that wasnât funny. She tilted her head to the side, a few strands of her hair falling across her face as she did so, and she let her amusement spread across her features and into her eyes.
âWell, sugar, maybe youâre new enough⌠refurbished, even.â One of her eyebrows quirked up playfully, ridding her brow of its previous furrow.
A personâs mannerisms often told larger story than their actual words or actions. Something as simple as their posture could often present the difference between a successful rouse and a complete failure. It was like a river as it ran its course, it seemed deadly, fastest at the source, flowing over jagged rocks and dropping off of cliff faces in majestic waterfalls yet it clearly wasnât dangerous, it was the river as it approached the sea where things got dangerous. It appeared calm, collected, nothing threatening about it yet as soon as you step in it? Itâd drag you away and drown you before a chance arose to escape.
Lexi knew that if somebody held themselves in a confident way, people would be more likely to believe it, less likely to look into the minute details and find out that the confidence was little more than an act designed to cover up insecurities and weakness. People are always more willing to go out of their way to please somebody who came across as confident â partly in fear of what they could do, partly due to the natural respect for others that was seemingly ingrained in lesser people since birth â than they are to somebody whoâs meek, carrying themselves around like theyâre worth little more than the dirt between their toes.
The annoying thing about mannerisms and posture? The odd person just couldnât be completely read, not unless they wanted to share themselves. Trix was one of those people. Whilst the woman didnât particularly hold herself in a way that was confusing â at least not to Lexi whoâd spent years training and living with her friend and usually knew how to read her almost like an open book â the Gypsy Queenâs current mind state addled any logical thought, any logical analytical cell in her brain, and left the leader of the Syndicate as little more than a blank leather book, only a title on display.
It was something she hated, not knowing instantly what her friend was thinking, how she was feeling about everything. She hated not knowing if sheâd need to come in to help the other woman in any way. She hated feeling so defenceless to the otherâs whims whilst she couldnât think straight.
Feeling Trixâs gentle hands â something which most people, especially those whoâd witnessed the woman in action, wouldnât expect to see from the leader of the Syndicate â entangle themselves around the Gypsyâs hands was what temporarily broke Lexi from her confused state. Of course she knew that almost as soon as she left the meeting the confusion would come back full force, likely mixed with the anger that would inevitably come back in full force as she made her way back to Gypsy hub. But that was the future. In that moment Lexi was staring back into Trixâs intensely icy blue orbs, completely devoid of emotion other than a small slither of confusion which managed to worm its way into the very outskirts of the desolate city contained within.
As the other woman began to speak, Lexi felt both relief and more confusion. She was relieved, knowing that Trix often felt just as confused as she did in that moment about things, that she wasnât the only one having to deal with so much bunk whilst the rest of the world frolicked around in their metaphorical meadow of flowers, attempting to live in ignorance of the life they were forced to live. The confusion came back when she watched the otherâs actions, watching Trixâs eyes scanning across her own features seemingly searching for something which Lexi would likely never find out about. Apparently whatever sheâd been searching for had been found if the nod which came from the other woman was anything to go by.
Hearing the rest of the words coming from Trixâs lips caused Lexiâs throat to clog up slightly, hearing just how much faith the other woman seemed to have in her, how much belief she had that the Gypsy Queen would be able to keep going, to keep fighting on â both against herself and the Clout skunks who wanted to destroy everything that had become dear to her since arriving in the wasteland that was once a thriving city full of dreamers but was now full of the dregs of the world.
âI know weâll get through it, I know youâll likely have plan after plan forminâ in that wondrous head of yours... but this time feels different. Donât ask me why, I donât know. It just does. It feels like we ainât gonna be able to beat whatever it is if it donât choose to let us or until it destroys us first. I hate feeling like I canât fuckinâ beat something that should be so easily destroyed.â The words came out in a voice that was both strong and weak, both desperate for answers yet so certain of themselves. None of it made sense and Lexi was certain that none of it would make sense any time soon.
A gaze of conflicting emotions stared deeply into the brunetteâs own comforting gaze. That was another thing that most would gawk at, the thought of Trixâs gaze being comforting when so often they resembled small shards of ice just waiting to dig into their foes and destroy them with the superior intellect that the woman knew she had. It would be something almost impossible for the pathetic bods â and likely some of Trixâs Groupies themselves â to imagine, the Syndicate Queen being comforting to the leader of a ârivalâ gang.
Continuing to watch the otherâs facial expressions, a somewhat amused grin spread onto Lexiâs own face as she saw the humoured smile on Trixâs. She knew that the expression wasnât done out of malice, she knew how Trixâs mind worked and she knew that something sheâd said â or even the entire situation â was what had caused the amusement to bubble within the other woman.
Hearing the words â and seeing the following raising of an eyebrow â caused a small bout of genuine laughter to escape from Lexiâs throat. It only lasted a few seconds but she knew that it was enough, enough for Trix to know that she took no offense to anything sheâd said or done since the disastrous rejection, enough for Trix to know that Lexi was willing to go back to what they had before, to forget everything thatâd happened in the warehouse.
âNow youâre just speaking outta your ass. The only times Iâve been refurbished were when I escaped the Kosher curs and when I arrived in this piece of bunk.â The words were obviously spoken in jest, her amusement at the situation evident across her face and in the light tone that the words were spoken in.
Maybe, just maybe, things would work out for them.
[ The struggle was real for the beggar as he battled against his fear and the threat at his finger tips. Both aspects were as strong as the other and deriving from the same source: Damon. He pushed with all his might against the guyâs hands and he could feel the muscles in the bodâs arms beginning to give way under the pressure. Damonâs laughter ripped through the useless cries for help. He wasnât as crazed as he made out to be. Then again, maybe that was what made him insane.
A voice behind him. His head whipped around to see Lexi standing there and all he could do was grin as the man struggled to escape. Damon grabbed his wrist without even needing to look and he twisted it around the back of the man. He could feel the bones in the arm splintering under his palms. He could hear them. Damon twisted the arm around until it scraped with friction in its socket and the beggar was forced to his knees. A grubby trainer hit between the guyâs shoulder blades. He smacked into the floor. Face first. Grazing down the side.
The teenager jumped onto his back and still grasping the arm he pulled. He yanked it upwards and kept on twisting. Twisting the bone, the muscle, the edges of sanity. Pop. Scream. The arm flopped to the floor beside the crying bod; useless in its existence. It was symbolic of the beggar. It was the picture of perfection.
Still standing on the lanky guyâs back, Damon stretched and turned back to Lexi. The Gypsy leader was interesting to Damon. Benny worshipped her. In the kidâs eyes she was his saviour but from Damonâs point of view he was the only one to ever save Benny. He was always there to protect him, just a breath away, when no one else was. The wild looking ladâs grin did not falter as he fixed his gaze to the older teenager and finally replied. ]
Outstandingly, Lexi. If you came to check on Benny I have it under controlâ
[ He broke off as the guy under his feet squirmed and shouted, trying his best to unbalance the stocky teenager on his back. Damonâs grin faltered and a flash of anger shadowed his features as he stomped on the guyâs shoulders and bent down to grind his face into the concrete pavement with a firm hand. Talk about kicking someone while theyâre down. Fingers wrapped around the back of the manâs neck and they began to dig into the tender throat until he could see tears welling up in the chapâs eyes. When he spoke again the anger subsided back down to bubble near the surface again and his voice was soft yet eerie. ]
Itâs rude to interrupt when the big boys and girls are talking.
[ Ironic really coming from a teenage boy to a fully grown man. That thought didnât even cross Damonâs mind as he relaxed his fingers on the guyâs neck and stood up straight again, nonchalant confidence oozing from his every pore of his pale, stone-like flesh. His mouth formed a cutting smirk at the inept ability of the civilians and he shared it with his gang leader. ]
What was I saying? Ah, yes. Under control⌠Unless Lexi would like to play too? Please, join me.
[ Damon had always been amusing to watch to Lexi. The way that he went about disposing of his enemies, of terrifying the life out of them before finally being generous enough to end their pitiful existence. Sometimes. Sheâd seen first hand the way that the boy demon played with his food when he felt like it, torturing - both psychologically and physically - for hours on end before leaving them to rot in a pool of their own blood.
A malicious grin twisted up the corners of Lexiâs lips as Switchâs fun side effortlessly incapacitated the bod that heâd targeted without having to look back towards them. In that situation Damon was definitely the rattlesnake whilst the beggar was the mouse, his pray. The young gypsy was constantly aware of his targetâs location, always aware of what was to be thrown in his direction without even having to dedicate the smallest of efforts to it.
This was the reason that Switch was a Gypsy. This was what she needed him to become if he was to be the weapon she knew he could be.
The grin on Lexiâs face only grew in sick amusement as she watched Switch beat the man to the ground, as she watched him twisting the arm in its socket until- the sound of the shoulder popping out of its joint echoed down the street and a steam of malicious laughter ripped its way from the Gypsy Queenâs throat when she heard the screams which followed from the man. As she watched the demon childâs feral grin turn towards her, Lexi quirked an amused eyebrow in his direction.
As she heard his words -Â before he was so rudely cut off by the bod under his feet - a relatively genuine chuckle escaped from the womanâs lips. ]
I can see that.
[ The words came out just as she saw Damonâs way of dealing with the bodâs insolence, grinding his face down into the concrete paving before fingers dug into the sensitive flesh of the manâs neck, tears easily visible in the manâs eyes. For a moment, the Gypsy Queen caught the beggarâs gaze, her head tilted to the side, curious of how long heâd last under Damonâs treatment. At the sight of obvious pleading in the manâs watery orbs, a sneer of disgust quickly took up residence on Lexiâs face. Sheâd always hated bods, they were weak. They were impulsive. They thought themselves the rulers of the fringe, infallible. They needed to be taught a lesson and who better to teach said lesson than herself and the other Gypsies?
As she heard Damonâs proposition for her to join him in his games, an equally cutting smirk to the one adorning Switchâs features developed on the teenage girlâs face. What sort of Queen would she be if she didnât join in the fun that her inner circle had? Returning her gaze back towards his, Lexi tilted her head, seemingly considering the offer - more to torture the manâs torture rather than out of indecision, her eyes said everything that Damon needed to know. After a few seconds of relative silence between the duo, Lexi spoke up. ]
What sort of person would I be if I passed up such an opportunity? Any others inside to be dealt with?