what a mess i leave to follow @joysull-blog - Tumblr Blog

( victoria ):

“ You’re really clearing things up for me. I believe my shameful whos and whats can coincide ! ”

“Then you’re more useless than I anticipated.”

#honestly ikr #i can only imagine what it was like to have them all in one space #i can't imagine joy in close proximity to anyone for more than 30 minutes at a time #–[ ✕ chat. ]#–[ ✕ with: victoria. ]#v: plague of lambs

( avery ):

Part of her had already gone to sleep it would seem, the part that knew when to say the bad things and when to be slightly nicer, the part that was left only wanted destruction. The remnants of the girl she had once been, blunt and sharp all at the same time and capable of horrific things, that part of Avery loved watching people squirm as they absorbed what she said. Her grin right now could have been carved into a pumpkin and look significantly less terrifying.

She leaned forwards slightly, looking at the pretend monster for a few moments before tilting her head, “Didn’t you hear me the first time?” Avery drummed her fingers against the glass bottle for a few moments, licking her lips slowly before she spoke.

“I was simply asking if I should even call you a monster.” She smiled sweetly though it didn’t reach her eyes, “I mean, I’ve always kinda looked like this and still been able to scare people, I’m not sure the same can be said for you. You’re certainly not a monster now, are you? If you’re not one now I don’t think you ever were.”

“What would you know about that?” Joy snapped, blackened fingers twisting in the wet fabric of her shirt, in twitching time to the acceleration of her heartbeat; it’s frantic, anger-starved flutter. It’s frantic-- she felt something great and dry and sharp rising up from the hollow of her throat, expanding against the inside walls, desert-like; choking her; frantic and clawing and starved; dense; her heart had crawled up there and was draining it’s salt. She hadn’t encountered hostility in months, and she lacked the composure, then, drunk and exhausted as she was, to keep the thing in her in check.

“What do you know about me, Avery? What do you know about yourself?”

#srry for being so late bb #–[ ✕ chat. ]#–[ ✕ with: avery. ]#v: plague of lambs

( margaret ):

She rolled her eyes, letting her head rest against the mirrored walls. A loud enough “ ugh ” escaped her lips as she decided to close her eyes– play pretend she wasn’t accompanied, why not ?? “ Out of all days– ” and people.

“This world not moving fast enough for you?” Joy tried, training her gaze on some festering tar-patched crack in the upper-right corner of the mirrors. She leaned back so that her frame arched rather uncomfortably, the wet knobs of her spine pressed against the smudged chrome hand rail, indifferent or else comfortable in the flickering box they’d been shut into ( not shrodinger’s but a shark’s cage, suspended underwater, slow-motion space, except Joy supposed the shark was in it too; she was in it, too, with the angelfish ).

#how r u??#–[ ✕ chat. ]#–[ ✕ with: margaret. ]#sorry this is so late #v: plague of lambs

“ ————— um, I wouldn’ step there. m’sorta…uh, I’m still clearing up t-the spill, and bits of broken … mugs are made out of ceramic, right? it’ll be done soon, promise, sorry. “

Pink and cream, like gums and baby teeth, picture frames and old drywall-- that’s what crunched under the toe of her boot: pink and cream... “ ceramic, right ? ”

The tar of her eyes rolled to fix on his, without response, without sympathy; for emphasis, she scrubbed her toe once, hard against the tile, twisting ceramic enamel into fine powder, making silent, raging, petty point to hold eye-contact in the process.

#–[ ✕ chat. ]#joy is such a baby like #this is such a five year old thing to do i'm laughing #hi #–[ ✕ with: parker. ]#v: plague of lambs

anamorphosis-and-isolate

It’s not you. It’s anyone. Sometimes I don’t want anyone around. Some afternoons I lie on my bed and the light comes through the shutters on the floor and I think I never want to leave my own room.

Joan Didion, Run River (via dark-splendor)

#–[ ✕ all claws. ]

hey friends:

just a heads-up that i’m going away this weekend and, while i’m bringing my computer with me, i probably won’t be online for the next few days regardless. i’m putting all threads and conversations on hold-- but i’ll get to them the first available chance i have! i promise i’m not ignoring anyone; i’m very invested in everything that’s going on ic and ooc and i <3 yalls

#–[ ✕ out of claws. ]#important

( margaret ):

There was a quite strange sound that set Margaret on edge– The sound of a light turning off– except this sound was much louder, millions of light bulbs simultaneously losing power. She barely had time to get a hold of the handle places on the sides of the elevator ( for decoration, mostly ) as the elevator seemed to come to a stop. “ We’re stuck. ” The person before her announced right after trying a couple of buttons with no result. Margaret’s eyes widened, still in denial as she shook her head and took a step closer to the other. “ What do you mean we’re stuck ? ”

“I mean the doors are about to open and we’re going to get off.”

“Am I not speaking clearly enough?”

#–[ ✕ with: margaret. ]#–[ ✕ chat. ]#v: plague of lambs #hi! i hope it's cool if i reply to this?

( avery ):

Avery’s skin was crawling as the silence at away at her, perhaps she’d prefer real bug under her skin, at least then she’d have a rational reason to feel so annoyed. She took a deep breath through her nose as she stared down at the bottle she held. She wanted to scream and yell and cry about everything and anything but all she could manage was a slow exhale.

She turned to face Joy, the name definitely did not match the girl, with daggers in her eyes and a million curses on the tip of her tongue. Maybe here was where Avery could find the fight she needed, someone lashing out at her so she could feel something, even if it wasn’t permanent it would be something. “You’re not very good at answering question, are you monster?” She could feel all the words she wanted to say swirling inside her but she was more careful than that, she wanted to find the perfect words, “Should I even call you that? You don’t look much like a monster. I wonder if you ever did.”

It was like processing molasses.

Maybe it was the alcohol that helped it along, in whatever capacity; the words hit her hot in the face, vodka and citrus, and they seemed to come only after Avery had finished moving her mouth, her cherry-pitted tongue. The cloud of it, that the breath had fogged them in, dewy and uncomfortably warm, made her face burn hot in some give-away trickery of this faulty body, a display of anger or shame or something of both, and she didn’t know how to talk through it. Immediately she cursed it, the body and bones and all, again, again, again, again, again, again again; what a reflex she had found in inwardly hating every outward piece of her.

She wanted to be strong in it but all its chicken-wire and barbs were slipping, poking out in the wrong places, and nothing was pulling on her mouth to speak.

All her words, all the angershame was fizzing like carbonation at the hollow of her throat and she wondered if she hadn’t just downed a two-liter of cola. She couldn’t cough anything out that made sense, that would serve a coherent response and, in all honesty, Joy wasn’t even sure she’d heard Avery properly.

“What?”

#ur so sweet #oooh man #those r fighting words #except joy isn't even sure how to react lol #she's like wtf did u just say to me i dont think i heard u #–[ ✕ chat. ]#–[ ✕ with: avery. ]#v: plague of lambs

( victoria ):

“ ’Of my breed ? ’ Please, Joy. Do try and surprise me once in a while. Strong girls often like to think of femininity as vapidity — and I’d hate to think you’ve started falling prey to such cliches. ”

“I wasn’t speaking to who you are-- I meant w h a t. Don’t you have any s h a m e?”

#oh yea definitely #i'm sure they went to school together at the least #i doubt they interacted much just based on their personalities?#but maybe we can plot some btdpast stuff?#also i luv ur blog #–[ ✕ chat. ]#–[ ✕ with: victoria. ]#v: plague of lambs

phyllisandtheodes

Visit Original Link

joysull-blog

phyllisandtheodes:

Still; Daughter

#–[ ✕ she licks the blood off her fingers. ]

( noelle ):

Filled to the brim with unresolved emotions ( as they always tend to be; unresolved – stuck in some fissured crevice of her mind casted away by insecurity and only touched upon in self-deprecation ), her direction is aimless, brunette-hair tousled up in most unappealing fashion.

Lashes flutter downward as the foul stench of spirits infiltrate her nostrils uninvited. Attention drawn to the creature perched not far from her stance though upon closer inspection, she recognized the familiar silhouette. Joy – and at this revelation she’s swelled with the emotion. She readies her position at speaking range, yet with respectful distance to her company, whom she assumed would not enjoy her sudden appearance, but her gallant soul was not one to let the moment slip through her fingers. “Do you know how to perform a cartwheel?”

You’d think a body kept as malnourished and unkempt as hers would feel anything close to electric in the first hard jolt from bottle to throat; neck to neck; but it took an exceptional amount of heavy to get Joy zoned. However heavy-weighted all her logged limbs tormented her to be, she was intoxicated enough-- or, would come to assume as much, to place blame as much-- to smile a little when she recognized the stranger fully, the fullness of her lips and all. She set the bottle hard on the ground next to her, pressed up against the sheer of her thigh, and angled herself towards Noelle, shook her head in equal parts annoyance and answer. After a pause she had mastered,like all the silences, like all she liked to wedge in-between finger-spaces and gapped teeth and every all conversation, she placed a palm from her lap flat onto the tile and narrowed her eyes.

“Show me.”

#hi cutie!!#v: plague of lambs #–[ ✕ chat. ]#–[ ✕ with: noelle. ]

( donovan ):

The boy wasn’t reckless. He followed the rules because if he didn’t who would? Civilization equaled chaos even in this magically created planet where the kids were supposed to be safe. Screw them, nobody would’ve had the interest of kidnapping Donovan anyways.

The boy wasn’t reckless, he followed the rules– yet the authorities that set them more than often proved to be just as reckless and self-centered as any other. He’d come for a drink and only one given how he actually enjoyed the burning taste on his throat. Stronger than coffee, bitter as his soul. One step in front of the other, don’t look at their empty eyes, don’t stare at their lives falling apart. He walked by the girl paying little attention at first, though there later came the strong smell, alcohol oozing from pores. A skin familiar, very familiar indeed. “ You look homeless, sitting there drinking the whole bottle. ”

“I am homeless,” There was no pause. She wedged the bottle between her thighs, used the back of her right hand to wipe at the corner of her mouth, ringed sticky liquor on her knuckle. Arching her neck for a fuller view, Joy raked Donovan once ( and if she recognized him she didn’t let it show, not once ).

“Spare change?”

#that is a solid theory #i support it #(go science)#i'm mae btw #v: plague of lambs #–[ ✕ chat. ]#–[ ✕ with: donovan. ]

( avery ):

It had gotten to the point now where Avery was almost on her third day of not sleeping, it happened far more regularly than she’d ever admit to anyone. The dark circles under her eyes and she walked through the halls made sure that people knew not to approach her, the half empty bottle in her hand probably made them more likely to stay away, but part of her wanted one of them to try. She wanted to hurt someone as much as she hurt.

Finding someone that she could tolerate right now was proving a difficult task but when she found the brunette she figured that was probably as good as she was going to get. She sat next to her and took another swig out of her own bottle, the liquid burning her throat a little but she didn’t pay it any attention, “What are you drinking?” She barely even glanced at the other girl but Avery hated silence more than anything else she could think of.

The bottle made the same noise it had against her teeth against the tile, except the noise was smaller, more delicate, somehow, and Joy ran her index finger around the lip of it incessant circles. She heard how her company’s bottle, still all the colors of diffused light, of attic-boxed memories, splashed its hard, demanding way into her mouth from its breath-blown neck, and the noise made her cringe, the swallow made her cringe; involuntarily, but still-- she tipped the empty glass then onto its side and rolled it away from her to block it out ( the hollow glass-on-glass-on-glass ).

When its momentum was lost, Joy turned to Avery unblinking and still un-answering, even though her question had been posed and hung up to dry there on some wire between them 140-odd seconds ago.

#srry this is a little bit late #i spent yesterday night baking #v: plague of lambs #–[ ✕ chat. ]#–[ ✕ with: avery. ]

( victoria ):

“ Why, I’m sure it’d please you to think so. ”

“Nothing pleases me. Not of your breed, anyways.”

#hi this is late i'm sorry!#holy shit how're you?#v: plague of lambs #–[ ✕ with: victoria. ]#–[ ✕ chat. ]

( victoria ):

“ My nails must honestly be the weakest thing about me. I paint them, they get all fragile, I don’t paint them, they break. At this point I think the best course of action is to spackle some heavy duty glittery stuff on, condition them to keep up. Thank god I don’t bite at them like some lame-ass when I’m stressed. ”

“You’re mindless.”

#–[ ✕ chat. ]#–[ ✕ with: victoria. ]#v: plague of lambs

-- The glass of the rim of the bottle clacked against her front teeth, threatened to chip a half-moon from the gloss of them. As it was, she remained intact, incisors and all the rest, wired together with spare war-time words clipped from novellas and newspapers and the witticisms that pooled in the wells between her molars.

Half the bottle had only spread a dull ache through her limbs, and it was like stoking something putrid, waiting for the carcass to catch fire. She wished she could chase the honey-smooth with a glass of gasoline. As it was, she settled for the rest of the bottle, draining it in particular inconsideration of her company.

#btdstart #btdmain #v: plague of lambs #????#take me bby or leave me #–[ ✕ start. ]

backtodisneyrp

joysull-blog

backtodisneyrp:

This is JOY SULLIVAN. She is EIGHTEEN and will enroll into Disland University as a FRESHMAN. Usually, she would live with her father, JAMES P. SULLIVAN in MONSTROPOLIS. Earthlings commonly mistake her for KAYA SCODELARIO.

“I admit that in the past I’ve been a nasty. They weren’t kidding when they called me, well, a witch, but you’ll find that nowadays I’ve mended all my ways. Repented, seen the light, and made a switch.”

When James Sullivan and Mike Wazowski took hold of Monster’s Incorporated, almost the whole of Monstropolis was ecstatic to hear of the energy change. Not only would it save the land a ton of money, but it would relieve the citizens of the guilt they had built up from scaring innocent children. All thanks to Joy Sullivan’s father, his best friends, and a human girl. However, of the mass hysteria that came from the change, Joy vowed to not be a part of it. Joy liked the idea of making children scream, instilling fear into the hearts of many. It was one of the few reasons that she had a strong distaste of her Aunt Boo, and an even stronger distaste toward her Aunt’s daughter. If Randall could have stolen any of the children for his evil plans, he should have stole Joy. However, he was gullible enough to believe that Jake was a better child to kidnap. As co-heir of the Monstropolis throne, Joy was all too willing to hide the fact that she hated the energy change. She didn’t care how much money the land saved, she didn’t care how much better Monstropolis was able to become. All she knew was that she was supposed to love her job, and how was she supposed to do that if she was living off of the laughter of the humans she’s come to hate. Once Fairy Godmother cast the spell upon, it was harder for Joy not to blow up on anyone that encountered her. She was disgusted with what she had become, the humans she’d come to hate. In her mind, she’d initiated a million wars between the humans and monsters of Disney and, every time, she won with a human’s head tucked in her hand like the prize after a guillotine show. However, she faced the public with a smile every time her father brought her to an event or a TV broadcast. It was only time before she was able to host the events and plan the broadcasts.

“Well, what is it like being here?”

“Well, it’s school. It’s weird without seeing all of the fur and scales I used to see in Monstropolis, but it’s whatever.”

Joy has been known to be…

un·for·giv·ing adjective \ˌən-fər-ˈgi-viŋ\

Joy learned how to disregard any sense of remorse toward the citizens of Monstropolis. She ran by a one and done system. Trust was a part of life that you had to earn, and Joy took that fact to the next level. She treated trust like a body part, and she only let people test the health of it once before she expelled them from her life. No guise nor event could possibly be an exception, and no acts of love or sorrow could possibly sway Joy in any way possible.

mys·te·ri·ous adjective \mis-ˈtir-ē-əs\

There was a lot to know about Joy, but not many people knew a lot about Joy. In reality, she was like a therapist’s wet dream. She had so many problems pent up in that big brain of hers, but none of them were noticed as problems. In reality, she would actually see these problems as personality traits. They were what defined her, and she was okay with that.

ma·nip·u·la·tive adjective \mə-ˈni-pyə-ˌlā-tiv, -lə-\

Joy could lead an army with the right amount of resources, nonetheless a whole country. She loved the idea of making people do whatever she told them to, and if it involved pain then it was exponentially better. However, now that she’s the heir of the Monstropolis throne, her father only worries that she may be too keen on switching the best change of the land. Even if she hid her feelings, she didn’t hide them very well in his eyes.

Like JOY SULLIVAN? Sorry, because she is CLOSED!

#–[ ✕ biography. ]

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