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@interaconteur
private & selective charlie montague / 2-BIT from deathloop.
rules / about / google doc (for mobile users) / ask
written by z. she/they, 28. mutuals only. 21+. timezone is EST. activity sporadic.
non-rp blogs please do not follow or reblog my posts.
prev rp blogs: simulacrumist, twicebound.
oh its me interaconteur! im in heaven now! so sorry i died. i miss you so much.
deathloop finally got a photomode so i took so pictures of fia and charlie’s fight
@interaconteur asked: ❛ what is with your weird fascination with me? ❜ for aleksis :3
“FASCI– FASCINATION?” Aleksis nearly spits the drink he’d taken a gulp from. Instead, he laughs from inside his fake face; a half-wheezed, sputtering cackle as he leans his side into the bar he’s got set up downstairs. It’s Aleksis’ turn to host the latest Aeon meeting, though any function manages to turn into some kind of schmoozy cocktail party when it’s under Dorsey’s roof. This one’s on the eerily quiet end (for now).
“Okay, uhhhh, fascination? Nice fuckin’ try. You’re reaching, assclown. Reaching as far as you can with tinyyy little baby arms.” As though to emphasize this, he dangles his beer glass over Charlie’s head as though daring him to make a swipe for it. But he finds himself wondering why he’s even having this conversation. Because there is something about loud, bleating Montague that has had him poking his snout around the guy more and more lately.
“It’s something else, if you really wanna know.” A pause. He cocks his ever-staring wolf head to one side, pressing his plaster cheek thoughtfully to the pad of his index finger. “You smell.” It’s been reminding him of a charcuterie of expensive and unusual sweet meats left out in the sun way too long.
@interaconteur asked: breathe for aleksis. rip.
They’ve been at each others’ throats all afternoon, slinging insults from across Updaam’s loud speakers with mounting fervor and creativity. It’s as the sun starts to sink into waves of dark, icy sea that they finally agree to meet in the Square. To duke it out with fists rather than words – “alpha-style” as Aleksis had declared to his butler as he’d snapped his fingers for a suitable ass-kicking jacket from his wardrobe.
It’s the red one, of course. Better for the blood spatter he can already envision painted so copper-sweet victorious across his sleeves.
But when he actually stomps out of his mansion to meet Charlie in the road, there’s a hot lurch of something else in his stomach when he sees him (and it’s not bile like it should be).
The asshole just has to shuffle through the snow with that look in his eye and hands stuffed in big, stupid pockets. Has to have a cigarette wedged between his teeth and a contemptuous sneer in his lips that itches a hunger up through Dorsey’s throat.
Wanna bite it off.
Because out of all Aeon’s members, Charlie’s the one always bleat-bleat-bleating away. Always the one scoffing and shrieking and spitting at the delicacies of brilliance that Aleksis always brings to the table. Instead, he should be slathering pungent saliva all over his lambskin loafers, thanking him repeatedly for the mere chance to do so. And yet, he only ever has vitriol to scream at him from across a coward’s drawbridge.
That’s a mouth that needs shutting up.
Aleksis had thought his knuckles would do the job, but now that he’s stalking over to him, there’s a hatred burning so palpable on his tongue that a new urge takes its place. And it tastes very salty there, prickling and needling as his teeth grit tight behind the muzzle of his mask.
His hands tighten into fists in the same moment that he notices Charlie’s do the same. It’s all led to this – teeth gnashing and spit frothing into anger that’s finally found the boiling point after so many days, weeks, months of stewing.
And rather than swing a right hook into Montague’s scritchy-scratchy jaw, Aleksis grabs roughly for the guy’s collar to slam him into the bakery’s brick wall. Weirdly, Charlie doesn’t Shift free, but seems intent on doing the same – a hand at Dorsey’s jacket to yank him in with him as his cigarette falls into the snow.
Which is when Aleksis tears his mask aside so he can crush his mouth sloppily, gracelessly, over Charlie’s before the dipshit can blurt out a new insult.
Swallow the ugly bleating! Devour the rancid spite!
It’s a hot-breathed mess of spit and teeth. Their faces aren’t angled well, they’ve got hands twisted in fistfuls of clothes, and their mouths move ravenous and clumsy like this too has become a contest – a battle of the egos meant to be won. So much so that Aleksis doesn’t part for breath, kissing so firm and heated that he practically smothers him against the wall as though breaking contact would be unthinkable.
It’s only when there’s the choked start of a shivery whine from the very back of Charlie’s throat that Aleksis finally parts to hiss triumph through his teeth.
“Now that’s more like it.”
“Fuck you, fuck you, fuck y–”
Aleksis is quick to stifle the fresh flood of angry swearing with another crushing of his lips roughly over fumbling chapped ones; deciding vey quickly that he might actually be able to stomach Montague more if he was pinned to a wall and being kissed stupid. There’s a pleased, smug squirm in his belly to notice that Charlie takes to it so… weirdly well. And is just as determinedly holding him tight by the lapels of his jacket as he kisses back with the same suffocating gusto.
Makes it easy to ignore the murmurs of confused Eternalists who’d had the misfortune of wandering over for a look at what could be rousing such a racket of garbled animal noise in the Square when Blackreef isn’t supposed to be home to so much as a goddamn mouse. But these are different beasts – ones best left to their own devices as they stumble into the bakery to further decide a victor.
like yes theyre technically the same height here but hes also clearly shorter. no i will not be taking any criticism.
valourie:
[ FiaFeelgood ] oh, yeah, pleasance used to sing lead in a new wave eco-goth band. [ FiaFeelgood ] her sound is so visceral. a total scream queen [ FiaFeelgood ] I’ll ask mercy if she still knows the crew and can get to pleasance [ FiaFeelgood ] hm? no. should i? [ FiaFeelgood ] 💀 [ FiaFeelgood ] oh no. charlie. [ FiaFeelgood ] you need to clean your ears out when you shower so they’re not so clogged [ FiaFeelgood ] i’ll ask my dad to send ear drops from the mainland <3
[ AdminCharlie ] Pleasance? Uhhh that’s kind of a lame name. Abbey of the Everyman vibes. [ AdminCharlie ] We can give her a cooler pseudonym for the credits, she’ll still get paid. [ AdminCharlie ] ? [ AdminCharlie ] I don’t NEED ear drops. It’s better NOW. Because I haven’t stuck my head in a toilet and flushed recently. [ AdminCharlie ] Whatever. It doesn’t matter. [ AdminCharlie ] Just wish you’d appreciate the things I do for you...
🤑 & ♮ or 🎶
rp memes: music edition
🤑 - A song that embodies my muse’s jealousy
look what they've done to my song, ma - melanie
🎶 - A song that gets the mun into the muse’s headspace
the moog and me - dick hyman
RP Memes: Music edition!
Send a symbol and I’ll show you…
♬ - A battle theme for my muse
♭ - A sad song that I associate with my muse
😀 - A happy or upbeat song that I associate with my muse
🤑 - A song that embodies my muse’s jealousy
😡 - A song that embodies my muse’s aggression/angst
🔥 - A song that embodies my muse’s lust or passion
💓 - A song that embodies the muse’s love for another
♪ - A song that my muse would dance to
♮ - A song that I use for BGM during RP
🎼 - An instrumental song (with no lyrics) that I associate with my muse
♩ - A song with lyrics that I associate with my muse
🎵 - A song that reminds me of my muse’s backstory
🎚️ - A cultural piece that suits my muse
🎤- A song that my muse would sing
📯 - A song featuring instruments that my muse would play
🎶 - A song that gets the mun into the muse’s headspace
🥁 - A song with percussion that I associate with my muse
🎻 - A song featuring classical stringed instruments that I associate with my muse
🎸 - A song featuring guitars that I associate with my muse
🔀 - A song that is outside of the mun’s usual taste, but still associated with the muse
💀 - A song that would be played to portray my muse’s death or passing
💿 - A random song from my playlist, and an explanation of how my it could relate to my muse
👪 - A song that embodies my muse’s relationship (with another muse of the asker’s choice!)
💕- A song that reminds me of my muse’s relationship with their partner
❣️ - A song my muse would dedicate to their loved ones
🖤 - A song that my muse would dedicate to someone they hate or dislike
🎊 - A song that I could see my muse celebrating or partying to
🎃 - A holiday-themed song that suits my muse
ramblinfrank:
“You’re the one who decided to hole up in Updaam, man. Dunno what the hell else you expected being neighbors with Dorsey.” Frank responded casually, chin tilting up as he squinted to get a better view up ahead against the setting Sun, “But, shit, guess I can’t blame ya for wanting a bitchin’ drawbridge that bad.”
Funny how Charlie tried to call him paranoid when the guy made his own fortress as practically inaccessible as his, if not more so, at will. Though Frank could tell there had to be some understanding there considering that he helped him develop the ClassPass system in the first place. He supposed, for him at least, it seemed Charlie’s sanctimony could only go so far.
“Anyways,” He continued, letting the runaway thought go, “how’d you feel about li—SHIT!” Frank cut off his own question with a curse as—like déjà vu—his foot once again slammed down on the breaks as an Eternalist darted out ahead in the road, tires letting out a harsh squeal at the violent stop.
“Y’know, really I wanted a moat with a crocodile, too, but they said the water was too cold for it to actually survive.” He also would have needed to figure out a way to raise the waterline around the castle high enough for him to be able to actually see the crocodile, because there’s no point in having a moat with a crocodile if you can’t even see the crocodile. “I drafted up some rough designs for a robo-crocodile but it didn’t really--”
Frank suddenly stops short. Charlie, who had entirely forgotten about his seatbelt, is launched directly into the windshield, his head colliding with the glass with a solid THUNK.
“What--” He’s now wedged almost entirely on to the dashboard, crumpled like a tossed marionette with his legs in the air, his hat askew, the imprint of his face against the glass. “Help.”
He doesn’t realize he’s bleeding until he feels it trickle down to his ear. The scar - stitches still freshly removed, the gash still just barely healed, perpetually delicate now that the loop has begun before the tissue could fully settle - split open from the impact.
“Frank? Frank, help. Help me. Frank. Frank help.”
lichteeth:
EVEN LIKE THIS, THE WOLF DOESN’T CEASE HIS ONSLAUGHT. Charlie might sluggishly lurch away, but Aleksis still brandishes his hand limply at his face to further emphasize his point in the only way he knows how: crudely and physically. “Not– Not nastyyyy, Charlieeeee.” He laughs again in a lazy chuckle from the back of his throat. “Fuckin’ soft. Like peaches n’ cream. Like a velveteen cloud. Like a baby wolf’s lil’ silk belly…”
But he finally drops his arm to simply lounge where he’s sprawled over the cushions. His mask has gone a bit lopsided, so he adjusts it to better glance at Charlie blurrily through unchanged mask sockets. “Oh, I bet she opened everything-everything. Everything. Ya–Y’know what I’m saying? Ev-er-y-thiiiing.” He clumsily mimes a crass image to color his very subtle innuendo – poking his index finger through a circle made with his curled-up other hand. It only actually lands its mark through said circle twice out of the five or six times he makes the gesture.
He falls quiet, though, when Montague’s words succeed at last in truly puzzling him. His voice even sounds cast in a strange kind of wonder rather than the harsh, mocking cackle his sober self would definitely have responded with. “Damn. Like… never? For real?” There’s a beat of silence as Aleksis lets this soak slooowly in through his weed-bogged mind. “That’s some kind of cotton candy fairytale shit. Like destiny saw you two and was all, ‘this freak and this freak HAVE to do it!’ Fucking magical.”
He cocks his head floppily from one shoulder to the other. “You had to have thought about it, though. Kissing other people. Before you met. Right? Come on. There are soooo many people in the world! Kissable, kissable people.”
Somehow the blunt’s ended up back in his hand. He’s not sure who passed it to him. Charlie brings it to his lips and sinks further into the plush of the sofa with the exhale. His entire brain (what’s left of it, at least) feels pleasantly cushioned, swaddled in a haze of smoke. If he wasn’t convinced it would halt his productivity output, this could almost become a habit.
Charlie stares at Aleksis, trying to parse what he’s doing with his hands now, mostly just relieved they’re not on his face anymore. It doesn’t matter, though. Not with the late-dawning realization of what he’d just said, to Aleksis Dorsey, of all fucking people. A nervous heat crawls up his neck, and he quickly shoves the roach back to Aleksis. He’s too stoned to spiral into full-on panic, but he’s distantly aware that if he was sober he’d have bolted out of the room screaming by now.
“Shit.” Charlie winces, clamping his palms over his eye. "I don’t - I don’t know, man. Does it fucking matter? I guess I thought about it. I mostly just tried not to. It made me feel stupid. Most people didn’t...”
His mouth is running faster than his brain. Charlie cuts himself off before he manages to make it worse.
“Why am I telling you this? Fuck you, man. I hate you.”
valourie:
[ FiaFeelgood ] no [ FiaFeelgood ] uh huh [ FiaFeelgood ] did we? [ FiaFeelgood ] 💀 [ FiaFeelgood ] ??? [ FiaFeelgood ] 💀💀 [ FiaFeelgood ] [ FiaFeelgood ] are you sure that was me? [ FiaFeelgood ] i don’t remember shrimp swirlies or any [ FiaFeelgood ] O H ! [ FiaFeelgood ] ‘sunday school shaving cream campsite’. [ FiaFeelgood ] one of the girls in my camp dated the second AD’s auntie before we left the mainland.
[ AdminCharlie ] THAT was it! [ AdminCharlie ] I was thinking about how the actress who played The Safety Razor Slasher had a REALLY cool voice. Would be so choice for VA work. [ AdminCharlie ] You think she’d go for another villain role in one of my games? [ AdminCharlie ] Can that girl you know put me in touch with her?? [ AdminCharlie ] Wait [ AdminCharlie ] Baby, you don’t remember me giving myself a swirlie for you? [ AdminCharlie ] I couldn’t hear out of my left ear for three months. I did it for you, Fia.
fargo (1996) dir. ethan coen, joel coen
valourie:
Most favoritest thought for thinking about? Her? She? That’s absolutely not news to her, she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was Charlie’s everything, but somehow hearing 2-BIT- with Charlie’s voice - repeat the sentiment? She’s choking. She’s losing her breath. She’s DYING.
“Baby… Baby Boy.” She doesn’t hear the sound of Charlie slipping away from her. Her peripheral vision is darkened, there’s nothing in all of existence anymore save for a MOTHER and her CHILD.
A step forward. Away from the decaying half of Charlie behind her, toward the growing half of Charlie before her. “I love you, too, 2-BIT! I’ve always loved you, I’ll always love you! You’re my special boy! I was there when Wenjie pulled you free!” She’s enthralled. Completely and entirely drawn in to the moment. Her art satchel hits the ground, clanking, crunching and crinkling, letting both of her hands lift to press against 2-BIT’s screen. A brain with a smile. A neuron storm for a halo.
“Yes! Oh, man, yes! Please tell me? Say it for me?” She’s reaching back towards Charlie. Hand gesturing in the air for him to take, still having a hard time connecting his descent to her reality.
She wanted to know what he said to prompt all of this. To wake her from her horrific dreams, to cost a man his life. What wonders were weaved by way of this, her child? What wonders awaited her here? “Go on…”
“I LEARN TO SING!” 2-BIT announces, his monitor glowing with pride. Charlie had been completely beside himself. Surely Fia would love it, too.
He wants to watch her reaction. He wants to stand beside her and see when the smile cracks. But Charlie cannot keep himself upright. He finally relents, curls up on his side on the mattress, and watches Fia’s fingers splayed out towards him in the air, empty and reaching, beckoning to follow for him to somewhere her he can’t go. It feels like watching her walk down a dark hallway, and the space between them is stretching, and his knees ache, and he’s going as fast as he can, but Fia’s getting smaller and smaller, further and further ahead as he’s lagging behind...
“CITY LIGHT... FAR FAR AWAY! ON TRIP? OR HOLIDAY!” It’s their song. Of course it’s their song. What else could it be? Charlie hadn’t even taught it to 2-BIT - his robot had started reciting it on his own from residual memory, the trappings of temporal dust left in Charlie’s left lobe. “TAKE RIDE DOWN TOWN! WITHOUT... WITHout...?”
2-BIT’s garbled voice trails off pitifully into silence.
“2-BIT FORGET SONG. I SORRY.”
Charlie’s face crumples, hot tears stinging the corners of his eyes. 2-BIT had sang the whole song, before, in his off-key and pitchy voice. Why can’t he sing it again, now? The nauseous pounding in Charlie’s skull presses against his eyeballs, threatens to pop them out like wine corks. Why does he have to be a failure? Why is he making Charlie FAIL?
“So you’re - you’re just fucking useless,” he snaps, fangless when he’s still lying on his side. “Can’t even - stupid - can’t even sing the stupid fucking song right.”
HEY sorry for being super quiet lately, things have been a little busy on my end wrt work/school/other shit. crossing my fingers for some dloop dlc soon for fresh inspiration? anyway today is my birthday!
cryochronism:
❝Right… You’re one of those types.❞ The tone is kept neutral, betraying none of whatever opinions may form. Instead, she pulls up to the hospital now, through the emergency route before finding a spot close enough. Doesn’t want to risk parking on the curb; places like these find their profits wherever they can, however they can.
His side door opened, Quinn leans down just enough to peek over him, see if he’s able to make it up on his own. The hand is offered out for him to take anyways. ❝Do you have your girlfriend’s number? So I can call her; I assume she’s your emergency contact too.❞
“One of what types?” Charlie bristles. “Sorry I don’t have time for distractions."
The hospital can’t come soon enough. He sways, nauseously, while she deliberates over a parking space. If she was smart she’d just pop the car on the curb and deal with the consequences later. What’s a parking ticket or three?
His door swings open. Charlie winces, eyeing her hand like she might have a dagger hidden up her sleeve. Hesitantly, it takes it, letting her pull him up out of the seat.
“Yeah. I do. She might be taking a nap, though. You probably shouldn’t bother her.”
