Not Sick.

[keanistic]

withoutrequiem:

The zombie fell at her feet, her chest heaving as she tried to control and even out her breathing – eyes still slightly wide and her knuckles still paled around the handle of her machete as she slowly lowered it. “– don’t step any closer until you let me know what you want,” she warns the stranger, eventually removing one hand from the handle so that she could hold it tightly at her hip ; just in case. “You don’t just go around sneaking up on people ; especially distracted by these damn Z’s.”

-- & It's dramatic in nature the way her eyes roll heavily, a shake of her head as if to dismiss the other woman. "I'm not SNEAKING up on you, there's no reason to." Hand waves in gesture as she shifts in stance, eyes the now fallen zombie. "Not everyone here is out to get you -- shit I couldn't give a single fuck about what you do in your spare time."

[archivedblogposts]

[keanistic]

sanguinelives:

Jerome hissed as his shoulder twinged in pain, the ginger watching the flames lick at the fireplace. There was a certain feel to the apartment he and Barbara shared, a sense of belonging he had only felt in Arkham and even then it was temporary until he was planning his escape again. It was one of the few places in his mind not tainted by blood and fear. 

It was nice while it lasted.

He downed a shot of whatever was in the closest bottle before turning the knife over in his hand, his other dislodging the staples in his shoulder, keeping everything together. The shot glass shattered on the floor, the brief, bright cracking of glass his only soundtrack. Another breathless laugh before he started to pry the metal fragments out of his shoulder, blood running down his back in warm streams. Sawing through half-healed scar tissue and scabs alike. He knew from experience it wouldn’t heal properly if it stayed lodged in his flesh, the multitude of scars littering his torso testament enough. Jerome could already catalogue the amount of muscle damage he would have, the sheer destruction he caused. A gasp as the bullet finally fell out onto the floor, a dull thud as it finally hit the wood. Funny. Something that caused so much damage didn’t deserve such an understated exit. 

@babbsqueen​

-- & Truth be told she hadn't expected Jerome to take care of the wound that she had inflicted but she certainly hadn't expected him to let it get this bad ether. To witness him digging into his own flesh in an attempt to fetch the bullet from his skin, to realize he'd been so fucking STUPID enough to patch himself up with the lack of appropriate reasonings. "Staples." Her voice breaks softer than normal tone, a shake of her head as bare feet carry her towards him. "What is with you and staples." Had no one ever taught him how to use a needle and thread -- ah, this was JEROME after all.

Heavy sigh leaves from her, staring at the blood creeping down against his skin; and god damn it if this stains the rug she's going to make him find a new one. Steal it, take it from the rations the town has built up -- she doesn't care. She WILL have a new one. "Jerome, you LEFT it in your shoulder this entire time?" Christ. Eye roll as a hand reaches forward, thumb brushing over some of his blood as it rolls from the newly established wound. "You probably have a fucking infection no."

She shouldn't be surprised, after all this is the same man that tried to staple his god damn face back on. "Stay." Even if he doesn't, it's not going to be hard to find him once more as she quickly leaves the room if only to grab the small first aid kit she'd tucked away in the bathroom the MINUTE Jerome had become her new room mate. "You should know, I'm not going to be happy if you end up sick with infection and can't do shit for a week." Barbara mutters coming back into the room, only to all but plop herself in front of him. "This is going to hurt, I have to clean it and so help me GOD J if you complain I will make this worse for you."

[keanistic]

suchdarkmatters:

Things happen for a reason, that is something he strongly believed in. But the friendship they had shouldn’t have fallen to pieces. That much is true. But they both did things, said things that were out of line. But thanks to the actions of Barbara, he knew the truth about Edward and how little he truly thought of Oswald in the grand scheme of things. Oh how he wanted to end him. But thankfully he was free but he couldn’t help but fear the day that freedom was ended. Looking at their linked arms and then at the blonde haired woman, he smirked. “Kill someone?”

-- & Now that was exactly what she expected from the man hailed as Penguin. Wicked plots with twists that not even the brightest of minds would see coming. "A man after my own heart." She feigns a woon with her free arm lifting to place her hand on her chest before giggles leave her, steps still keeping them at a calculated pace as they stroll down the streets of Blackpool. "I know they've got the weapons all locked up in one area -- but I doubt they've been able to scavange all the areas in town."

[keanistic]

svnxcursed:

there is a disturbance with his current routine – sharpening branches – and listening to ‘the way you make me feel’ by the michael jackson. ❝i. am. GROOT. ❞ he knew tiny pieces of english, but speaking in his natural tongue is a hard habit to break. just like wearing clothes would take some time, for now he is in pants, but refuses to wear a shirt. clothing is such a hassle.

-- & What an odd young man. Speaking in English and yet not making a damn lick of sense, despite the overly RUDE tone he uses. "Uh -- right." A click sounds at the end of the word, eyes rolling as she shifts on her heel; gazechecking around them for any on coming hoard or even the smallest of groupings. "You keep doing ....whatever it is you're doing, caveboy."

[keanistic]

suchdarkmatters:

You could see the moment Oswald’s heart broke. Just hearing the name of the woman who took Edward away from him again, it was like an never ending form of torture. Just taking a sharp breath, his eyes moved to the floor. “I..” he tried to speak but instead he gave up and settled on a shrug. Sometimes the best answers are the silent ones. Looking at the blonde haired woman once again, he then took a deep breath. “You’re right. I can’t keep on hurting myself like this. It’s time for me to act my part in this odd war against the dead” he mused and then felt a small smile form on his lips. “You always know just what to say to make me feel better”

-- & Part of her longs for the former friendship long since lost between them, but the more rational part of her knows that the past is in the past. "I'm always right." Is what she settles on instead, typical Barbara fashion with a knowing smile spread across painted lips, hip jutted out to the side. "Which is exactly why you should listen to me more often, Ozzy." It's out in an obvious tone, pointed glance before she's taking a chance and linking her arm with his own, pulling him forward in forced motion. "But -- what we really need to focus on, aside from my wonderful advice, is how to get our hands on WEAPONS."

[keanistic]

sanguinelives:

Oh fuck. He broke her. He actually broke her. Jerome cocked his head, watching the blonde with a sick sort of fascination. The initial surprise had worn off and now it was just entertaining. Watching the arousal flicker in her eyes,  the unsettling laughter leave her lips. He shouldn’t be allowed near people if this is what happened to even the most broken, the most resilient of them. It’s poetic, in a demented way.

 No. That’s not right

It’s fucking hilarious. 

He’s almost proud that he could do this, that it’s his fault Barbara has been reduced to this manic mess, something reflecting his own H E L T E R - S K E L T E R  thoughts. A breathy, wild laugh left him, almost in sync with hers. It was a song, Jerome decided. A distorted, cacophonious song that only made sense to them. His hand leaves hers, settling around the side of her neck while his thumb stretched up to rest on her lip. A few meager inches lower and he could cut off her air supply. It’s such a power rush, to have this much control. The pain in his arm is practically nonexistent, replaced by a deeper, more insistent need. “Are you going to be a good girl now? Or do you wanna shoot me A G A I N?”

-- & The laughter slowly begins to die off as skin connects with skin, almost a soothing reaction; odd as it is. He's so beautiful when he cracks, dangerous and powerful. Yet so very IRKING at the same time. They're two halves of one crazy coin, maybe Arkham truly was where they were meant to be. Oh well, wasn't it? His words have her mewling in response, chest practically arching upward towards him in n e e d. "I'm tempted." Barbara offers with twisted grin, eyes locked onto his intently.

Even being this close to him, noting the raw scars and jagged edges of his skin, slightly dry lips; Jerome is still beautiful to her. In all his CRAZY glory, he's still breath taking. "What do I get if I'm good?"

[anistonjen]

[keanistic]

sanguinelives:

He didn’t feel the pain at first. There’s a spreading crimson stain on his shirt and it’s not until he smelled the faint smoke of the gun that he realized that she shot him. His own shotgun clattered to the ground as the pain washes over him, a tidal wave of agony. Well fuck. Guess she did have it in her. Well- Jerome shut his eyes as another wave of pain hits him. Fuck.

He turned to see her face, vision swimming in red. And then his good hand around her throat, the ginger having lost the few seconds in between. It’s certainly not the worst pain he’s ever felt, but it’s no walk in the park either. “I thought we had a little pact not to kill each other. I could… You know I don’t need anything to make sure you end up dead,” his voice was low but eerily monotone. He’s considering squeezing when he remembered the gun in her hand. Jerome released her, taking one step back with a crazed grin. Good hand reaching out to circle around her hand, bringing it to rest under his chin. “You want to hurt me? Shoot me. Kill me. Do it.” A feral gleam in his eye spoke more than he ever could, adrenaline mixed with the pain and making it oh so addicting. “Do it, do it, do it.”

-- & Fear and lust mingle together as fingers grip around her throat, azure orbs blown wide as she stares back at the former Maniax leader. Pushing and pulling limits seemed to be their thing, proven by damn near every interaction ever held between the two of them. Would society be better off if they were locked away in Arkham for the rest of their lives? WITHOUT A FUCKING DOUBT. Didn't matter though, because this world had no idea whom they were or what they were capable of; unless they bore witness to something like this.

They're not C R A Z Y. They're free.

Dr. Jekyl and Mr. Hyde had absolutely nothing on the two of them, Barbara decides. Adreanline spikes high within her as his words come tumbling forward, the gun in her hand settled so snugly beneath his chin; crazed eyes studying his features as her own twist upward. It begins low in her chest almost akin to a pur from a wild cat in heat, lurking the alleyways of Gotham only to break out into a bubble of high pitched mania; a display that would certainly end with the two of them right back into the padded cells of Arkham. L A U G H T E R rings out from her as she leans forward into the taller male, gun slacking in her hold as she sways.

[keanistic]

suchdarkmatters:

Did it surprise him when she reacted the way she did? No. It really didn’t. But all he did was just look at her and then shook his head. “I am not giving up, my dear” he then frowned at the mention of Jerome and her just saying Ed’s name like that. “If he came to this city. I don’t know if I would help keep him alive or toss him to the zombies. At this point I am not even sure what I feel towards him. I know that he would be real but all he would do is the same old, same old. And truth be told, it get’s boring after a while” he rolled his eyes. “I have tried to be civil with him. But if he would use this situation to harm me yet again, I would just have to whatever it took to protect myself”

-- & There's an unspoken level of respect between the two of them, hidden beneath all the tension and loathing, mind you. "Fuck him." Barbara mutters without a second thought, because realistically? "All he's done is screw you over time and time again -- and L E E?" Eyes narrow to boost her point. "seriously?" Ed could do SO much better, and frankly it never made sense to Barbara as to why he and Oswald weren't together, when it's clear there's something there. A wave of her hand falls to dismiss it all the same, nodding briskly before offering the male a small little nudge as if to say she's on board with his train of thought. "Gotham is a second thought in this place. We need you to focus on staying alive, Ozzie." The long forgotten nickname falls, lips daring to twist into a smile. Genuine or not.

[deep-sexts]

[captainchilly]

I will call a meeting of the heads of the families. You will come. You will be your old self.

[dawngranger]

[keanistic]

@suchdarkmatters / @sanguinelives

[lecterly]

[keanistic]

sanguinelives:

There’s a dawning realization, fairly evident as his face curls up into a smirk, fingers tugging at his flayed lips. She’s jealous. For some reason, the thought goes straight to his cock. It’s the power he has over her, that he could make someone like her feel anything. The beginnings of a plan start to form in his mind, one that would either get him shot or laid. Jerome didn’t care which.

Watching her dispatch the zombie cements the outcome in his mind. This would definitely get him shot. Not that it would matter, he had come back from worse. Goodbye cruel world, it was nice to fuck you up while it lasted, he thought with a snort. “I’m sure the brunette by that black market would want more. Damn, she seems crazy. But ya know, insanity’s the spice of life and yada yada.”

-- & Jerome isn't as stupid as she thinks he is, though that's solely because of the mood she's in, which is why she KNOWS that he's figured this out. She can tell from that god damn STUPID smirk on his twisted features, the absolutely ignorant statement falling from his lips. If he was a man in his right mind he'd know better than to piss off Barbara Kean, especially when her mood is already this sour. But this is Jerome Valeska.

"Don't start with me." Words all but a muttered whisper as he continues his mindless chatter, but god damn it her fuse is already so short and now he's done it. It's a split second decision, something that BOTH of them have history with, that has her aiming the gun at Jerome's left shoulder and firing. There's no doubt in her mind that she's missed the proper target but hit her OWN all the same, a satisfied smirk registering on her lips as the gun lowers. "Don't be a prick, Jerome. Don't forget -- I know where you sleep."

[keanistic]

suchdarkmatters:

Turning so that he could look at her, he shrugged his shoulders. “I know” he simply said before he looked over his shoulder at the zombie, now seeing that it didn’t look like the man who had tormented him for the past couple of years. “But it is what I deserve after all. I got the revenge I deserved for what happened to my mother. Now I just feel like I have done what I needed to do. Now I can just live my life, as broken as it is. In a city filled with dead people. Isn’t that a little funny to you? Knowing that we escaped one hell hole only to be tossed into another?” he laughed as he made his way past Barbara. “We will never be able to escape hell and truth be told, I don’t think we deserve that luxury”

-- & Was there still some sense of loathing between the two of them? Without a doubt, however Barbara wasn't about to dwell on that. This place wasn't Gotham and thusly, there was more important things to worry about than the PAST. Yet it's very apparent from the small speech that Oswald's given her, he hasn't found himself in that frame of mind yet. "Oswald." His name drops as he speaks, though she doesn't manage to get through to him as he moves past her. It irks her, proof enough as she's quick to follow; cutting him off abruptly. Hand lifts to snap a few times in front of his face, "Earth to PENGUIN !! You may be willing to give up on your miserable little life but I'm not, neither is JEROME or half this damn town. -- What if E D shows up here, huh? You just going to shrivel up in some run down building and pretend he's not real?"

[keanistic]

suchdarkmatters:

Starter for | @babbsqueen

The noise of the undead, it did not scare him anymore. It doesn’t give him the knot in his stomach as it used to when he first got here. But now? He was just as numb to that as he was to everything he had been going through back in Gotham. Just standing on a roof top, looking out over the city in ruins, he heard the sound of high heels and he knew who it was. “Doesn’t that zombie look just like Edward?” he asked, tilting his head to the side and pointing at one of the monsters walking around. A dry chuckle leaving his lips as he sighed. 

-- & Tension growing from hatred and anger was the original emotion spewing forth when she's heard that Oswald had somehow managed to find his way to Blackpool; yet it's started to fade. Penguin was a horrible man capable of double crossing you when you least expected it -- but Oswald was different. Everyone back in Gotham had two sides to them, and since arriving it's clear that it's Ozzie she's dealing with, not the maniacal man she's grown to hate. "You're losing your shit, again." Comes the lazy response once settled beside him, gaze linering for a moment. "If this is how you're going to be here -- you're not going to last long, Oswald."