artificial heart

juliette. 27. escort. ❝ have you lost the same things I have lost? do you know the panic I know? ❞

[jaxson-benton-deactivated201503]

[Jaxson doesn’t want to hold Juliette captive but he also knows letting her go right now is probably the worst thing he could do. So he holds her wrist lightly, careful not to cause any further pain or restrict her movement. He also doesn’t touch her hand again. He’s aware she’s in pain and he’s not a medical professional but he is someone who has be in the need of repair more times than he cares to remember.] 

Hush now. [His fingers stroke her skin at the sound of her words and the tone biting at his skin with every harsh syllable spoken. She’s not looking at him but she’s also not looking at her hand. The observation doesn’t confuse him but it’s a clue to everything - her overall behavior and not only the punch that left her hand a mangled mess.] Look at me. [Pointing his gaze at her face, he stares until she’s willing to look at him and he’ll continue even if she doesn’t] Regardless of what you think you deserve, I’m going to help you. [He’s doing the literal and figurative thing again and he doesn’t care how she takes it. His grip tightens a little as he speaks. An affirmation that she may be stubborn but he’s worse] Now, come on, let me get you upstairs. 

[juliette-stclarke]

[This is unexpected. Juliette has long since given up fighting his grip; it's confident, self-assured and she knows Jaxson won't let up, can sense his equal level of stubbornness and sighs. She can't wriggle her way out of this one and, fuck, she wants to punch him; but she doesn't, not really, and that's the problem. She could get him away if she really wanted to, could fight for herself without hesitation, but she's too intoxicated and - dammit - Jaxson is no bullshitter.

Juliette looks at him expectantly, eyes sad, worn-out, and she's exhausted from the fighting, with a hand that radiates pain and a heart that radiates pain and just- fuck. She doesn't have the energy for this.] Fuck you. Fine. [She hisses, words quick and bit off at the end with a sort of sharpness, and Juliette has to look away. She can't admit to this sort of weakness. She won't.] 

[maeve-otoole]

Hmm. Well, ya ain’t so bad yourself, mo chara. 

[juliette-stclarke]

Oh, really? You think so, do you?

[lili-bowen]

[Lili is so done with this night, but she’s staying with Juliette— even if she doesn’t know why. She listens, teeth grinding because Juliette’s words make her so mad, and before she knows it, she’s shouting back.]

No. No, I’m not stopping, you fucking dick, and I’m not ‘fucking off’. You wouldn’t fuck off when I begged you— I’ll help you with your goddamn hand if I want— God. 

[She takes a deep breath. Yelling was stupid; she shouldn’t have done it, but she’s drunk and she’s pissed and she has no fucking self control anymore. She wants to fix this, but she’s too busy fucking it up even worse, and if she wasn’t so busy being furious with Juliette, she would be lost in her own sea of self-hatred. 

Moving closer, Lili licks at her lip— it’s bleeding, the blood pooling enough that it almost drips, but she barely even notices. It’s nothing, really, and especially not when it’s compared to Juliette’s hand. She’s probably sprained her wrist now, and Lili is so frustrated, so lost as to what she should do. It’s miserable, and she reminds herself that this is the other half of why she doesn’t let herself get close to people— not only can they hurt her, but she also doesn’t want to make anyone feel like this. She doesn’t deserve to be worried over.

Juliette is a different story.

She obviously thinks that she’s not worth it— not worth anything, really— but Lili can’t believe that. She’s fucked up, clearly, but who wouldn’t be? She’s dealt with so much, and Lili imagines that she only knows the tip of the iceberg. Lili is empathetic, and maybe it’s making her weak, but she can’t stand to let Juliette hurt herself right in front of her, and she takes a shuddering breath, moving just a half step closer.]

I don’t— Please?

[It’s a word that Lili doesn’t use often, but she’s wasted and confused, and when it slips out, she finds that she doesn’t even care.]

[juliette-stclarke]

[If she was at a loss before, she's at an even bigger one now; every defense she attempts to put up is futile, a measly excuse for some sort of pathetic protection and Juliette feels so weak, so stupid, so... emotional. And her emotions are nothing else but just that - a sign of weakness, a testament that she's broken in more ways than one, and her least favorite thing is to display any sort of them, regardless of to whom. This is Lili, too, the friend who, last week, had cried and shouted and slammed her into a wall; yet still does Juliette feel as though she's unable to show anything, unable to let herself go.

And Lili's right. Juliette didn't let the other girl go when she asked, and now she regrets it, she regrets it so fucking much because she needs to be left alone and Lili won't let her, is reflecting what Juliette did to her days prior. She's helpless, trapped - what now?] Lili. [Her name is said in cracked frustration, teeth gritted and jaw set, hardened with the extent of how much she tries to conceal.] I'm not worth it. I'm not. 

[Lili needs to go to someone else; find another friend, someone who's not a total fuckup, someone who isn't a terrible excuse for a human being like Juliette is. She holds so much shame, so much guilt, and nights like these only wake a beast she wishes so badly to never be released. 

But Lili says please. 

Juliette can't remember the last time she herself used that word, and it sounds unfamiliar falling from Lili's lips but is equally shocking - she stops moving away, looks at the other girl and blinks. The pain in her hand is almost crippling, and her voice has quieted, is breaking in the corners regardless of how much she struggles to hide it.] Stop caring. [She holds up her bloody hand, shaking, and her words bite off more intensely, increasing in volume.] I fucking hurt everyone, Lili. Let me hurt myself too. 

[juliette-stclarke]

Chase you, capture you, fuck you, listen to you plead until the pleas turn into you begging for more.

Capture. 

Holy shit. 

Holy shit. 

[juliette-stclarke]

I want to wreck you until that pretty little fucking mouth of yours doesn't work anymore. A gag might be nice, too.

The verb "wreck" is one I am very, very fond of. Yes, please.

[inboxideas]

[lili-bowen]

[Lili huffs in frustration with Juliette’s lack of concern for her hand, the self-deprecating way that she says it ‘won’t attract clients’ grating on her. It feels wrong, and it’s probably because it reminds Lili of herself. She’s gnawing at her lip, trying to force her muddled brain to think of the right thing to say, and then Juliette laughs and explodes.

Lili flinches back at first, knocking over the vodka— good thing the cap was screwed on— and biting down on her lip so hard in her surprise that her teeth break the skin. Juliette is a whirlwind of anger and self-hatred, and all Lili can think of is all the times that she has looked just like her, wearing out her fury in a storm of recklessness and self harm. She’s shaking, so much more delicate than she wants to be— God knows what she’ll do if Juliette strikes out at her, whether she’ll panic or freeze or fight back until one of them dies— but she moves closer anyway. She’s hesitant, and her voice shakes when she speaks.]

Juliette. Juliette, stop. 

[Not wanting to grab her— Lili knows better than anyone how badly that can go— she moves between Juliette and the wall, cringing and half expecting to get a fist in the face immediately. Fuck it, she doesn’t care if this is stupid, if it’s going to get her hurt. She’s done worse things while drunk, and she can’t sit here and watch Juliette hurt herself. It’s hypocritical, because she’ll hurt herself and expect no one to care, but she can’t stand to watch other people do the same, no matter who it is. And especially not Juliette, not when she actually fucking cares about the woman for some reason, not when she sees herself in her so much that it hurts.

Still cringing back, she speaks, forcing her voice to steady.]

Would you just stop— Stop fucking up your hand. I’ll wrap it, Jesus Christ, just… stop it.

[juliette-stclarke]

[Juliette doesn't fucking know what to say. She's lost, at a crossroads that doesn't exist and has no way to wiggle her way out of this one; intoxicated, brain muddled with depression and self-hatred she can't see any other way out of this than to just continue, to just feel pain until she sleeps and feels none, to continue and hurt herself because it's what she deserves in the first place. And why is Lili helping her?-- Juliette fucked things up with them. It's her fault. 

Everything is her fault, and everything always will be. 

It's doubtless that she's inebriated and lacking judgment completely, feeling too much all at once and she wants it to stop. She doesn't want to care about Lili, doesn't want to feel anything except pain, wants to mute any sign of emotional awareness and drink herself into a stupor for the next... hell, for forever.] Stop. Stop. [Her words are spit from behind gritted teeth, and Juliette's hand is throbbing so angrily she swears she can fucking hear it. She backs away from Lili, can't look at her, can't do anything.] Don't you dare try and help me, not when I... [What? she trails off.] 

L-Let me--! Just-- [Can't even form a coherent sentence. Figures. Juliette is a fucking mess of emotional and physical pain and she doesn't know what to do, doesn't know what to say or where to look or... Her voice rises an octave, a shout, and with a glare she stares at Lili, cheeks red and burning.] Stop caring! Stop. Fuck off, this is-- 

[Tyler felt more pain than this. She can handle it.] 

I... I deserve this, fuck off, fuck off. 

[lili-bowen]

lips are like the galaxy's edge | juliette & lili

[lili-bowen]

Lili felt Juliette’s slow, heated scratches burn all the way down to her core, her breath stuttering out helplessly against the other woman’s mouth. She could feel Juliette’s desperation, could hear it in the low moans that slipped through her lips, and it was only fueling her own want, her body pressing down against Juliette’s frantically as Juliette’s hands kneaded her breasts. Her breath caught as Juliette started to wiggle out of her underwear, and Lili straight up whined when the other woman ground up against her, fire tearing through her veins. She broke away from the kiss— she needed to breathe— and her face fell into Juliette’s neck as she panted.

Juliette’s fingers twisted sudden and firm, and Lili hissed, the breathy word that escaped Juliette translating as an order in Lili’s muddled brain: More. 

“Iesu Grist.” 

The words were torn from her, her first language slipping out before she could stop it. Her whole body was screaming at her to listen, to hurry, and she only pulled away for just long enough to wiggle out of her own underwear before rolling back over Juliette, hands trailing over her body as she breathed shallowly. Her own inexperience in being with other girls had been keeping her from pressing further— this was only the second time she had slept with a woman, and there was a part of her that still didn’t feel like she knew what the fuck she was doing— but she was full of desperate yearning, and Juliette’s more really just echoed her own thoughts.

Her hand slid down Juliette’s torso, tracing over soft skin and hipbones before slipping between Juliette’s thighs. Lili ducked her head, lips dragging against Juliette’s as she curled her fingers against the other girl, her touch hesitant but firm. She ached to find friction of her own, her muscles tight and trembling, but she contented herself for now with nipping sharply at Juliette’s lower lip, her fingers still working as she did so.

[juliette-stclarke]

Okay, so Lili was enjoying this as much as she was. Good. 

Juliette's brain proved too distracted to pay attention to much else other than the muted, breathless pants of Lili's moans, and by instinct her own hands crawled up to grasp the other girl's hair, to tug at the roots and seek an anchorpoint of stability as she gripped, tugged, yanked for a moment or two - it was no secret Juliette liked things rough, and had she been less damn distracted with the whole Lili's-naked-body-against-hers thing that was going on, she'd probably consider asking if that was well-recieved by Lili. 

Nails raked against the blonde of Lili's hair and Juliette pulled her head closer, felt the other girl's breath dip to her neck and collarbone as she bowed for a moment, and Juliette held her their, used a free hand to scrabble red marks across the plane of her back and grunt in some sexualized, animalistic sort of way. Lili was so damn attractive it drove Juliette mad; her existence alone was a turn-on. 

And hell yes Lili's underwear fell away as well, and suddenly skin against skin felt so much more prominent and a moan tore from Juliette's own lips of which were soon cut off by the crash of Lili's. Subconsciously she felt a hand trail down her waist and she shuddered, taut muscles of a flat stomach wavering and contracting as she sucked in a breath - if Lili's spot was her neck then Juliette's was her stomach, an area that proved completely endgame if anyone touched it ever, and it was only Juliette's hope that Lili wouldn't notice the pink scar beneath her ribcage, that-- fuck. She couldn't think straight. Couldn't worry. Not now. 

The foreign hand dipped below her thighs and a low rumble echoed from Juliette's throat, a gasp that was swallowed by Lili's mouth against hers as she clenched her nails into the small of Lili's back, bucking her hips almost instantaneously. She pressed up against the other girl, tried to get as close as she could and responded to the touch with gutteral moans that spilled from parted lips: "Fuck--" 

Eyes half-lidded and breaths coming as pants Juliette returned the favor, slipped a hand between the other girl's thighs and cupped her, broke the kiss only momentarily to dig her teeth into the curve of Lili's jaw. 

[lili-bowen]

[Lili bristles, and she feels so angry— at Juliette, at herself, at this whole damn situation. It’s all so unfair, and what really pisses her off is that she should be used to this by now. Life’s not fair; so fucking what? It shouldn’t exactly be a newsflash by this point. She hates the way that Juliette is making her feel like a threat when she’s honestly trying her hardest not to be, even as the alcohol in her system wears away at her self-control, and she grinds her teeth, fingers flexing at her sides as she resists the urge to ball them into fists.] I’m not gonna fuck your hand up, Juliette. Stop being such a fucking asshole. 

[She flinches as Juliette curses, the other woman’s face clenching momentarily with pain. Then Juliette’s moving the slightest bit closer, but her words make Lili feel irrationally guiltier— let me bleed out for all I care— and her voice is tight when she snaps,] Oh, for— stop talking.

[She leans down, nearly losing her balance in the process, and sets down the bottle before standing up again. For all that she sounded fed up and irritated when she spoke, Lili’s hands are gentle when they close around Juliette’s shaking one, careful not to touch the actual wound. She feels gently around it, working hard to stay focused despite her inebriation, and she wonders why she only ever seems to find herself needing her old skills from the beginning of her nursing education when she’s close to passing out drunk.  After a few moments, she lets go of Juliette’s hand, stubbornly avoiding her gaze as she slumps back against the wall.]

'S not fractured or anything, I don't think, but my guess is you've bruised the bone. You should probably… wrap it, or some shit, I dunno. [She does know, and she wants to do it herself. But that’s fucking stupid, and she’s not doing it. She’s not asking to. Nope. Lili’s done. She wraps her arms around herself, head rolling to stare at the ground.]

[juliette-stclarke]

[Juliette huffs out a breath, inches as far away as physically possible from Lili as the other girl inspects her hand; her touch is tender, without malicious intentions and, much to Juliette's surprise, doesn't go to avenge the current tiff between them. She stands there, shifts her weight from heel to heel and - damn, why won't her hand stop shaking? A fiery pain snakes through sinews of muscle in her wrist and she can't prevent another outward wince, twitches involuntarily and swallows a lump in her throat. She's such an idiot. Such a fucking idiot. 

But Lili's voice pulls her back to the present situation and she coughs, sputters for a moment before raising skeptical eyebrows in the direction of the other girl.] Hell, I'm not wasting my time wrapping this piece of shit. Let it rot. [Juliette recoils her hand into herself and forces herself to look at it, to swipe more blood from the broken skin and scoff.] It's my damn fault anyway. Won't attract clients. 

[And Juliette laughs in that moment - it's as if Lili isn't even there, as she's so enveloped in her own dejected inebriation of both body and mentality to notice... Dammit. Fucking hell. Who does this? Who punches a damn wall in the first place beside a deranged, unstable psychopath? Self-hatred coils in her stomach and she feels nauseous, wants to sink into the carpet and avoid daylight for the rest of her life. Tyler would be ashamed.

Her frustration gets the best of her and Juliette lets out an angry roar, slams her fucking split hand against the wall for the sake of getting what she deserves, lets pain shatter and explode from her wrist and she shouts angry, horribly angry, curses, at nothing in particular.] Fuck, fuck, mother fucker, son of a-- fuck, fuck. 

[lili-bowen]

lips are like the galaxy's edge | juliette & lili

[lili-bowen]

[Juliette hones in on Lili’s weakness for neck-biting immediately, milks the advantage for all that it’s worth, biting and sucking at her neck until her head hangs loosely, her lip caught between her teeth as she fights back a moan. Fuuuck. If Juliette keeps this up, it’s going to completely wreck Lili’s shit.

Juliette’s hands move over Lili’s breasts, back arching so that their bodies press together even more, and Lili’s breath whooshes out all at once. She presses closer to Juliette, body melting against hers, desperate for more contact, more friction, more. When her lips finally return to Lili’s, Lili’s mouth opens automatically, lips dragging rough against Juliette’s as a single sigh escapes her.]

[juliette-stclarke]

[Juliette's nails scrabble at Lili's back, drag down divots of her ribcage and scrape slow, tantalizing, as if trying to get the other girl closer, closer - Juliette's movements have become borderline desperate, frantic, and she can feel her own fire roiling in the pit of her stomach, eyes closed and thick, heady moans trailing from the space between her lips. She allows herself to break from the assault on the skin of Lili's neck - for now.

Her hands slide to Lili's stomach and splay, scratch, grip, search for for a place to grab as she continues to meld her lips with the other girl's. Needy fingers move to find her breasts, to knead for a moment and grasp with a certain kind of quick desperation, a squeeze hard and fast and rich with the strength of Juliette's current state of unraveled abandon. A moan escapes her again, loud, vibrates against the skin of Lili's chin. 

But Juliette wants more. One hand remains cupping Lili and the other tugs at the fabric of her own underwear, wants it off, wants the fabric barrier between her and Lili to be fucking gone already - she shoves them off herself, uses her feet to kick the remaining entanglement free. Her hips buck almost instantaneously, and with the firm twist of her hand she lets out a single word,] ...more. 

[lili-bowen]

[Why does Lili feel guilty? She doesn’t want to, doesn’t want to let her irritation fade, because the anger keeps her running. She feeds off it, lets it fuel her, and it can even pull her out of depressed slumps sometimes if she lets it. But for some reason, she can’t hold onto it this time. She can feel it slipping away, and it’s leaving her sad and regretful and confused and guilty. She hates it. 

She shoves a hand through her hair, her head falling back against the wall. The alcohol that floods her veins is making it harder for her to put her thoughts into words, her voice already slurred, and she fumbles as she speaks— she’s unable to decide how to feel, much less what to say.] I don’t— That isn’t… what I was really goin’ for. 

[This is hard. Fuck, what is she even doing here? She lifts the bottle to her lips, takes another swig— because more vodka is exactly what’s going to help the situation, clearly. She makes herself look at Juliette again, stomach clenching with regret and the beginnings of drunken nausea. Juliette’s knuckles are still bleeding. It looks like it hurts, too— Lili is no stranger to that type of wound, and she can imagine the sting.  

As Lili watches, Juliette bends her fingers. It must be painful, because she winces, just the slightest bit. Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.]

Can I, like. See your hand?

[juliette-stclarke]

[Juliette's at a loss. If it wasn't Lili she'd find somewhere else to place her fist, would go back to punching a human rather than a wall, but it is freaking Lili and now she doesn't know how to rid herself of everything she... feels. She can't take her anger out on irritating someone else, because it's Lili who's here, and she just -- her guilt is too prominent. Too profound, potent, and it lingers as she sways on her feet, struggles to figure how to response. A cold] ...whatever... [spills from her lips and Juliette stares down at her reddened hands. 

It only lasts for a moment, though, as Juliette doesn't like blood (it had never bothered her before Tyler's death, when blood drenched her own hands and clothes and stained everything with guilt and with pain), hates to admit it now. Makes her feel weak. But Lili's suddenly requesting Juliette's hand and it's almost in defense and instinct when she shakes her head.] To let you get me back and fuck it up even more? No thanks. 

[But in her pulling back of her hand she slaps the broken skin with her free hand, and the pain is so sharp that Juliette hisses curses from between gritted teeth and digs her nails into her wrist. Fuck. Fucking hell.] You know, screw it. I deserve whatever ya' want to do-- [And she approaches Lili only slightly, holds her trembling hand out to the other girl and not meeting her eyes.] Let me bleed out for all I care, I- fuck. 

[jaxson-benton-deactivated201503]

[Jaxson sucks his teeth, letting the prickle of discontent and the need to bite out a response towards her settle. he realizes she’s intoxicated and he also knows some emotion, be it loneliness, bitterness, anger, loss, love, or same hybrid of two or more is fueling her current behavior. She’s a mess but the air of composure she tries to exude is admirable but he still finds the corners of his lips twitching and his eyes slanting. He’s going to laugh and that’s probably not a good idea right now.] Yeah, everything is fucking perfect.

[He lightens his touch at the site of wince and hiss he hears from her lips. He even steps back for fear he’ll catch some of the friendly fire from her attack on the carpet. He still has a hold of her hand but it’s a gentle caress now that they both realize some damage is done.] Think before you hit. Always think before you hit. [Random words and thoughts he rambles as he inspects the damage. His brow arches and he shakes his hair from his face when a long sigh introduces his diagnosis] Your hand is fucked.[Nonchalant and now unamused he lifts his eyes as his shoulders go up and down]  I can fix it but yeah it’s fucked.

[juliette-stclarke]

[Juliette understands she'll not effectively pull away from Jaxson's grip so she complies - somewhat, though, as she's still leaning away from him and staring anywhere else, the floor, the ceiling. Her teeth are gritted, hissing curses at newfound introductions of pain as she stands there, shifts her weight on her heels again. Fuck. She doesn't want to go to a hospital, doesn't want to leave. In fact, Juliette wishes only to curl up, to disappear and never show her fucking face again. What an idiot she is.] 

Fucking of course it is. [She glances at him momentarily, the sight of blood making her feel a bit lightheaded - it reminds Juliette of Tyler's blood on her hands, reminds her of things she can't stand to remember, roils grief. Blood never bothered her before his death. Refusing to look at her knuckles, she stares down the hallway and speaks through gritted teeth to herself more than to Jaxson.] Shit. I deserve it. Don't deserve to be fixed. Let it fuck itself up until I fucking die. 

[lili-bowen]

[Lili scoffs, scowling back, because she knows Juliette’s bullshit detector is better than this.] No.

[Seeing Juliette makes Lili want to punch the wall herself, infuriating phrases still repeating themselves through her head— I said I’m sorry— and she grits her teeth. There’s something else too, though, something more sad and regretful eating at her, and she feels a stunted urge to at least try to smooth things over. But she’s scared that they’re both too stubborn, and she knows that she’s too drunk to deal with such a delicate situation without fucking it up even worse. She should really just leave, go back to her flat and wallow until she passes out, but for whatever reason, she doesn’t.

Everything is fuzzy and her balance has gone to shit, so she stays slumped back against the wall, drawing in on herself just the slightest bit— part of her still expects Juliette to hurt her again. And really, that paranoid part of her could be right— fuck if Lili knows what to expect from anyone anymore. Her head tilts to the side, and her eyes fall to Juliette’s hand, where beads of blood have started pooling over her knuckles. She bites her lip.] Your hand’s bleeding, [she slurs, avoiding the other girl’s gaze.] Just so y’know.

[juliette-stclarke]

[Juliette reels back from the sting of the punch, cradles her hand where the broken skin splits red and attempts not to wince, though the air is biting and every clench of her fist renews the pain. There's a mark on the wall, now, and she'll pay for it - she's sure she will - because this is the kind of place where psychopaths don't usual damage walls, and Juliette would bet money Madam will implore her to pay. Screw it, it's what she deserves, after all. She doesn't even hear Lili's muffled 'No' as she takes a moment to swipe her other hand atop the injured one, hissing from beneath teeth as she does so. 

And now Lili's insisting that her hand's bleeding and Juliette tenses - she's not mad at Lili in the least. It's her fault, all of this is her fault, as Juliette had honestly, truly been trying to help. She doesn't like unnecessary cruelty, condemns it, and her remarks to Lili regarding her sister had been as genuine as she could possibly make them but - of course - she'd fucked something up and hurt someone else: Lili, this time, one of the few she considers a friend. Juliette is mad at herself. She's intoxicated by both alcohol and emotion and her voice is snippy, mumbled when she flicks her gaze to the other girl.] No shit. [It's not mean, not biting with anger, but it's defensive. She wants to be back in her room, wants to coil away for a long time.] If you're going to sit here and watch me fucking break my hand, you have a front-row seat. 

[agronlovers]

[jaxson-benton-deactivated201503]

[It’s been years since Jaxson has performed in the way Juliette is now. He’s sure she’s so intoxicated by her anger that she doesn’t notice or even care to acknowledge him. The bag hits the floor and more curses fly from her lips. Something has made her beyond angry and it’s in that moment he’s thankful fist met wall, instead of face. Still he winces at the sound of ripping flesh and cracking knuckles. It’s a human reaction that sends him forward, hand reaching for hers.

There’s no fear but concern she won’t readily accept the help he offers. He’s right. She pulls away but his grip is stronger and he’s sure her rage will eventually just transfer to him but he can take it. He’s not moving.] I don’t think you’re fine. People who are fine don’t get bloody knuckles from punching walls. 

[juliette-stclarke]

[Jaxson has always been kind to her, but any preexisting impressions are out the window at the foot of her current state of mind, and she could care less who he is. Her tugging against his hand is futile; she whips her head to look at him, glaring from beneath bright bangs, eyes flickering and fiery as she snaps in reply,] No shit, Sherlock. I'm actually great, I'm really fucking great--

 [But she's cut off by another wince, the bite of the cold air slapping her bloodied knuckles and resulting in a hiss as she kicks the fabric of the carpet, expression breaking and pained.] Fucking hell, fuck-- fuckfuck-- 

[marlsmckay-deactivated20140513]

[His shift ended over two hours ago, and yet by some stroke of luck, here he still was. Patting the down the back of his pockets, he pulls out the worn out pack of cigarette that’s been sitting back there and opens it, hoping to find at least one cigarette for his walk back to his apartment. As he makes a brief mental note to pick up some more at the bodega down on the corner, he stops, noticing someone else in the hallway.]

[He raises an eyebrow, knowing that he should say something or stop the girl from doing any damage to the building - or to her hand, but feeling the corner of his lips curve upward slightly, he can’t help but be slightly amused by this whole thing]

You know that isn’t how you get a door open, right? [he calls out, before conceding and pulling the ring with all the keys from where it hung on his back pocket, resigned to the fact that this was clearly the reason that it had taken him forever to finish all the things that he was supposed to before he could leave for the night.]

[Fumbling with the keys, because fuck, who’s brilliant idea was it to put this many on one ring, he shoves the lighter and cigarettes into the girl’s hands.] Hold this. 

[juliette-stclarke]

[Juliette doesn't recognize the voice in the least, is both taken aback and surprised by the sudden presence - she'd been too preoccupied exerting her rage on the wall to notice anything - and the man approaches her with almost a look of amusement. And Juliette's too defensive, brashness increased with the alcohol, to be civil, to bother with introductions. She winces and pulls her fist back - there's a mark on the wall - and runs a shaking hand over reddened knuckles, hissing in pain. 

But now he has keys out (Juliette assumes he's a janitor of some sort) that jingle, clash against each other in a high pitched jangle that is too shrill for her to handle right now. She takes the lighter and cigarette combination in her uninjured hand, stares at him, unblinking, head spinning rather prominently with the fuzziness of the drinks and her own anger.] --Fuck. [She doesn't speak to him, rather, Juliette leans back against the wall, lets her head fall back as she looks to the ceiling. Her knuckles are bleeding, and the sting of the air against broken skin prompts her to wince considerably.] --Fucking idiot, I'm-- God, what a fuckup, I'm literally... [She's cursing at herself, words filled with self-hatred and venom.]

[jaxson-benton-deactivated201503]

[Jumping off on the fourth floor was a mistake. Dorian lives on the third and even thinking about knocking at 3 in the morning and inviting him back upstairs was beyond ridiculous. Jaxson was bordering on ridiculous. Wandering around the hall in search of the bank of elevators he pauses when he sees Juliette. She’s not happy and he wonders if she’s had another run in with James at the bar. 

He can hear very well at first he thinks the curses are funny until he picks up something else in her tone. Against his better judgment and the need for survival he steps a little closer.] Need some help?

[Yes the answer is obvious but she’s not the type to indulge a night in shining armor swooping in, he would prefer the decision be her own and avoid - did she just really fucking punch the wall. Instinct brings him closer and before he knows it, he’s breaking a million and one rules and taking the fist into his hand to inspect the damage] What the fuck Juliette?

[juliette-stclarke]

 [Juliette is too blinded by her fit of frustration to reply to Jaxson's first question - at first she doesn't notice him, in fact, simply continues to string fiery curses and slam a purse against the carpeted floor. But her pent-up anger is too much, too raging to calm down, and when she punches a wall Juliette doesn't notice him approach. 

Her knuckles are throbbing, bloody and God knows if they're holding up -- she swears again, reprimands herself for how stupid she is, backs up, and suddenly Jaxson's hand captures hers. Juliette flicks her head up instantly, eyes red and teeth gritting. She snaps,] I'm fine. [A lie, and she attempts to pull her hand away, sneering, not wanting help. Not needing help. Or maybe she does, Juliette doesn't know, doesn't give a shit because she's the last person to deserve it.]