𝙰 𝙶𝙰𝙼𝙱𝙻𝙴 𝙸𝙽 : uneasy acceptance, longing for the old days, taking the blame, the king of hearts && ace of spades, responsibility by the wronged, drinking yourself dry, && losing the ability to love.
₁. 𝙏𝙃𝙄𝙎 𝘽𝙇𝙊𝙂 𝙄𝙎 18+. If you are under 18, please see yourself out until you're of age. I've been RP'ing since I was eleven, I know how much it sucks to be restricted by your age, but your safety and my safety are more important than that. Any minors following will be hard-blocked - do not send messages, asks, or anything else.
₂. 𝙏𝙍𝙄𝙂𝙂𝙀𝙍𝙎 𝘼𝙉𝘿 𝙏𝘼𝙂𝙎. Due to the nature of H.azbi.n and the extended Hel.lavers.e, I expect anyone following to be at least okay with subject matter like blood, injuries, illness, violence, weaponry, swearing, occasional derogatory language, and suggestive content - these in their most basic forms ( a cold, a nosebleed, someone throwing a punch ) will not be tagged as they come up. Explicit sexual content (aka, any smut) will be tagged and put under a read more. If you have any tagging requests outside of these (eyestrain, phobias, etc), let me know and I'll do my best!
₃. 𝙊𝘾 𝘼𝙉𝘿 𝘾𝘼𝙉𝙊𝙉. As someone with too many OC's, I know how important OC and canon interactions can be! If your character has history with Husk, I do ask that you ask or plot with me before inferring they know each other or have said history. Chances are, I'm cool with it, but I do reserve the right to deny any dynamics as I see fit.
₄. 𝙍𝙀𝘽𝙇𝙊𝙂𝙂𝙄𝙉𝙂 𝘼𝙉𝘿 𝙊𝙏𝙃𝙀𝙍𝙒𝙄𝙎𝙀. I'm not super huge on reblog karma with prompts, but it can be nice sometimes! Just use basic courtesy - reblog from the source if it's possible, don't use me as a resource blog, etc. All graphics are made by me and my current PSD is a blend also by me.
husk's eyes shine like gold in the dusky casino , and he stares vox down like prey .
this is husk's domain , through and through . it bends to it's whims . he is the casino . he is the house . the house gets what he wants , and right now , he wants to watch that pretty little screen drown itself in thin whiskey and complimentary cigars , in light and smoke and rich women's perfume .
he wants to watch him take .
vox smells like new money and electricity . husk laps up the attention like it's the first drop he'd ever tasted , and he graciously allows vox his hand in just one dance . just one look into the world on offer if vox was brave enough to snatch that up too , mister up-and-coming . a waved claw behind his back shuts off the tinny radio , and instead comes music that feels alive , bluesy and slow .
❝ you 'gon owe me for the slot machine . ❞ he says , just as quietly , but concedes . one step , two step , back and forth , swaying like lovers in front of the bar . ❝ or you can show me a time good enough to forget it . ❞
his tail thrashes in interest . in dread . in curiosity .
even with vox's hand to his back and his face to his chest , his half-lidded eyes stay open .
JOUER CARTES SUR TABLE. Husk takes his offer and Vox is all too eager to follow through with his bluff, decor set to gentle jazz blues as he pulls and pushes with graceful ease. One step, and he's far; another step, and he has decided what he needs to say, and Vox's eyes become as devilish as his grin.
He wraps their fingers up and ties a bow with a firm squeeze shared between them. He whispers,〝I won't owe you anything after this.〞
He snugs the fuzzy face tight against this chest; bits of his turtleneck are frayed now, like the scraps he gets into when he runs his mouth too far. Media doesn't always hit the mark. You learn when your words overstep, but only after you've had a headline made about you; a painful closed fist, or a bitter set of words.
〝How many people let you take this role?〞 He asks, fingers skittering up and down his shoulders before his palm settles flat against his back again. 〝You know— the girly one.〞 He says it like a purr, or a promise, or something sweeter than the insult it is, or rather a window into the premise he's cooked behind his eyes; Vox wouldn't be caught dead with the girly one. Vox is the one playing as a man.
〝It's nice to be directed, isn't it?〞 A slight pause in their steps, then Vox bumps the edge of his head to Husk's temple. 〝But you've got a firm hand. I don't think you'd let me get away with dipping you.〞
ego gets you everywhere that flattery won't . husk can smell the narcissism on this man as clear as the whiskey on his breath , and he sighs out his amusement against picture-box's puffed up chest .
he says he won't owe him . husk trusts that implicitly .
what he doesn't trust is the half-cooked concept hiding behind that toothy grin ; vox is playing house , and like the doting homemaker he is , husk is already planning on lacing his fucking martini . girly role ? is he twelve ? might as well be , from the way he's slinging the king across the floor .
❝ you don't wanna play that game with me , ❞ he responds , allowing his voice to flatten into something unpalatable just long enough for vox to taste the disapproval . it slips back easily , and soon , and husk laughs away the rest of his frustration ; jovial and sherry-rich . ❝ ain't anyone here who can tell me a thing ; I do what I want , whenever I feel like it . ❞
husk purrs . squares his steps . it's all he can do , caught in the crossroads of pissed and pleased . husk does what he wants . right now , he wants to see where this goes , and if that means playing bitch ? so be it .
❝ it's nice . " he admits , the proper amount of reluctance in his tone . ❝ give me a reason to let you . ❞
❝ a gummy . ❞ and it's made all the damn difference . husk's experience with weed wasn't exactly elementary . he'd smoked it often enough in his younger years , the social drug of choice between his bandmates and best friends ; but alcohol flowed freely and , thanks to roosevelt , became the only real option .
he'd loved that reefer . missed it . honestly , alastor should be thanking him for partaking .
he can't help but laugh when alastor tugs him to the side , the humor of the situation surpassing all . whoopee . oh , the exasperation in alastor's voice brings husk too much glee . ❝ friend ? ❞ he chuckles , unfocused eyes crinkled up . he's got those ? since when ?
❝ lordy , al . uh - no . no , and - look , it's heavy , but I ain't freakish . ❞ did that make sense ? he can't remember what makes sense to who , and it puts a stupid little smirk on his face . ❝ dig , at least with this shit i'll be back to my old asshole self in a few hours . ❞
