WHAT ARE YOU WORTH?

Romeo  "Ro" Vu | THE INSIDE MAN

[leaguerpg]

kai. abraxas. ro.

[leaguerpg]

the boy who never was

what are you worth

Once you have tasted flight, you will forever walk the earth with your eyes turned skyward, for there you have been, and there you will always long to return.”

[scrpiusmlfoy-deactivated2016111]

When he was younger, his father used to tell him the story of Orion.

In Greek mythology, Orion the Hunter had been the best archer on Earth, capable of defeating any mortal opponent.  However, one day, he boasted to be a better archer than Artemis herself. To punish him for his arrogance, the Gods sent him a challenge to make him bite his tongue: the Scorpion. The Scorpion was the reckoning of ungainly pride, created to temper hubris with humility, and, when he arrived on Earth, he defeated Orion and the Gods immortalized him with the constellation SCORPIUS. 

You, Scorpius, Draco had said, interlocking their fingers as they stared at the stars, were named to temper the pride of the Malfoys.

[scrpiusmlfoy-deactivated2016111]

@wandsnroses​

[scrpiusmlfoy]

when he finds out that his mother’s sick it’s the last straw

that’s why his father’s been gone all summer why his mother has been pale and withdrawn. it’s not because of what he had feared– corruption, greed – something incurable and dark that would tarnish the family name

it’s something far worse

his mother is all fine china now; easily broken fragile pale as bone

and he wonders how he could have been so ignorant

he had loved rose and he had lost her out of the same fear that had poisoned his feelings towards his family. he had at once felt and burned and broken and it had been too much. he had known what it meant to be in love and unable to and he had known what his name did to hers. so he had left her.

but he had loved her

// do you love me? she had asked, her voice rising, when we’re in public, you pretend like you don’t know me. it’s like you don’t even- care.

so i have to know. if this is even worth it at all. do you love me, scorpius? are you even worth my time? because i- i love you, i think. and i’m prepared to wait. i am. for whenever you’re ready. but i have to know that one day you will be.

scorpius?

scorpius?

goodbye, scorpius

in the silence after she had gone, he  had crumpled on the floor,

he had whispered to her back, “i think i do”

-

in the bottle of firewhiskey he had tossed back with jax, he could see his future for the first time– clearer than anything he had ever had before.

he was crying now. he had cried before, he was certain, but had it ever been like this? had the pain ever been real or just self-imposed? the ideas of what he wanted his own or someone else’s? how had he missed it? how had he been so blind?

he had been loved but could not return it. he had been

he smashed the bottle into the ground and bled, the broken glass cutting into his fingers.

“at least you have a family who loves you” they had whispered after he had told them what happened

“you are my family,” he had looked up, eyes bloodshot, mouth still dribbling from his own sick.

they didn’t speak for a long time, “i know”

his mother is in her bed and he is kneeling by her side. her hand is cold in his own and he tells her everything – like he has not done since he was a little boy. without her glamour charms, she looks like a child.

“we have always done our best to try and hide you from all the terrible things in this world,” she says, “i guess we failed.”

“i chose this life. i knew what it meant. how other people saw your father and his family. but i took one look at his eyes and i could only see one thing.”

she pauses, she wipes her eyes, “my future, scorpius. i saw my future. i saw you, happy and free. and in that moment, i knew that no matter what anybody else thought, that i loved him.”

“you never got that choice. you were born into this. we tried to shield you. we tried to- what i’m trying to say is-

“it’s not too late, you know. for any of what you wanted. for- rose.” the name sits awkwardly in her mouth.

“if you love her and you can see your future with her, then damn all the odds. you are my son, scorpius, and i am telling you that no matter what your father did or his father did, you do not have to pay for anybody else’s sins. you owe it to yourself to be happy. and take it from me, you don’t have as much time as you think.”

“i love her”

“but that’s the problem. i don’t think my future is hers. maybe it will be, but not today or tomorrow or the week after or even in a year. i’ll just slow her down. and i need to- take it slow.”

the week after his mother dies, scorpius malfoy leaves the wizarding world. he leaves his position in the company to jax, his possessions to his father and his heart behind– not forever, he says. one day, he will take them all back, he says. they will be waiting when he returns, they laugh.

he doesn’t know if he ever is coming back.

he sets out with his wand, his owl, six changes of clothes, a healthy amount of muggle money and the complete works of shakespeare, a picture of his mother when they lived in france pressed within the pages.  

he finds he uses the first thing less and less.

he finds himself in london then paris and barcelona, the place where he grew up in bordeaux and then to a sleepy little city in america where it rains almost everyday.

a girl stops him, asks him out for a cup of coffee.

he goes out with her.

but more importantly, he applies for the open position at the coffee shop at the end of it.

and even more importantly, he gets it.

the boss calls him rich boy when scorpius talks. when scorpius makes the single worst cup of coffee that the man has ever drank, after they both spit it out, the boss hires him on the spot.

“no preconceived notions on what a good cup is,” the man belly laughs, “i can teach you exactly what i want out of my cup of coffee.”

scorpius gets the feeling that not many people apply.

the girl is a regular and they become- friends. she brings all her first dates to the shop and he makes her the same drink every time. she drops off a book of chaucer to him and he quotes it back at her. he grows his hair out. stops using the vision correction charm and starts wearing glasses. in the flat that he bought with tip money, he reads nabokov and hemingway and gatsby and homer. he never used to drink coffee and, for the most part, still doesn’t, but he can draw a perfect leaf out of cream he puddles on top. and that’s as much magic as anything he’s used to.

his hair is messy. it hasn’t been like that for a long time.

sometimes, it feels as if the slow start of a smile creeps on his lips. its like sunshine almost. like a thousand tingles tapping his spine, shaking his bones. in the space between his tongue and the roof of his mouth, he can feel a hum.

sure, he misses home.

in fact, he misses it more than anything.

he knows that this is not where he was meant to be. he doesn’t need magic anymore, not like he used to, but its still a part of him. he needed to take a break from it, take a breath, pause, but he dreams of a world where he can live in both halves of it.

but that’s not possible.

so he waits.

for what? even he doesn’t know.

until one day, a girl walks into the coffee shop and orders the most caffeinated thing on the menu in a voice he knows all too well.

he has dreamed about her voice. dreamed about where she has been and all the places she will go.

he’s not looking at her. she’s not looking at him, but he knows who she is.

“my name is-” she starts, but he interrupts.

“rose”

he whispers

and their eyes meet

and for the first time in ages, he knows what happens next.

[borgeslabyrinth]

I realized why the idea of constellations has always swayed me. constellations are so very human.

our wonder of the stars is bone-sunk; we’ve been thinking and dreaming and watching and watching and watching since the beginning of time, and we looked for so long that we started making connections. 

we played a celestial game of connect-the-dots; trying to find order in something so vast and trying to show that the stars are in everything and everything is in the stars.

we plucked pictures out of the infinite; there’s a dog, there’s a bear, there’s a lion, see? look, right there; the stars hold and mirror back everything. 

but then it went a step further. instead of everyday things, we stopped picking out the cups and the bears, and instead we saw stories. 

look, there’s Andromeda, chained to a rock and waiting to be devoured by Cetus. there’s Orion, and Hercules, and do you see Orpheus’ lyre? Zeus sent an eagle to retrieve it after Orpheus’ death and he placed it in the sky. 

we did the most human thing imaginable: we wrote our stories into the stars. we filled the night sky; previously so vast, so unknowable; with our history. we forged connections to the stars and made it so our children will always know where they come from. 

[leaguerpg]

you used to worship at their altars. your prayers used to begin with their name. but your altars have stood empty for years. 

[leaguerpg]

not to be a little bitch but 90% of cassandra cain fans are literally so wrong

things that define cassandra cain: her endless capacity to forgive

that’s it, that’s all you need to know

if you’re writing cassandra with a grudge against her parents, if you’re writing her as vindictive and cruel, you’re wrong

she’s a lean, mean fighting machine, but she accepts you for you, knowing that you can change— and hoping that you do

she is not just ballet slippers and knives and a fashionable black bobs, she is more than most of those aesthetic posts convey (though beautiful and i love them so much). she is blood on her hands and the understanding that it will never come off and accepting that. she is dirt and grime and hair cut by a knife in the middle of the night just to keep it out of her eyes. she is the bat symbol without any of the vendetta

she is forgiving and merciful and she deserves to be written as such

@ dc she is not an orphan.

she has never been one, not in heart or spirit. she has always known her father and she knows what he did wrong and she does not hate him even though he treated her wrongly. she knows his cruelty and she knows his sin, but she still forgives him. she knows her mother and she is not resentful for being left behind, because she understands that it was never meant to be. she knows her mother’s sins and she does not forgive them, but she still gives her the chance to change. she does not blame either one of them, though she does not make

and if that is not enough, she is bruce’s daughter and barbara’s protegee, she is a sister to tim and dick and, in some convoluted way, jason.

she has always had a family. she is not an orphan. she was never one, not in the slightest.

and i just fucking hate the way fandom portrays cass. and though im so happy that cass is back and she’s not terrible or that ooc

there are just things that are so wrong for her character and i remember the first time i saw cassandra cain with her round face and dark brown eyes and flat nose and her thick eyebrows and her skin a shade darker than bruce’s or babs’ and i remember how she taught me that people can change. they can.

and that sometimes the hardest thing to accept is yourself

every time i saw her in rebirth and i see her perfectly pale skin and her eyes that change to blue every so often, every time i see a pale kpop/chinese celeb cast as her with their perfect aesthetic and their pale skin and their pointed noses,  i feel something in my heart, a twinge, something sad and desperate, because i remember when she looked like me and i remember when she taught me how to forgive.

for every person you have ever hurt, she loves you still. cassandra cain loves you for all your mistakes and i don’t want to have to remind you of that

i’m so tired of seeing her confined and cleaned-up and resentful and bitter in fics. i’m tired of seeing her stripped of her agency and her love for the world. she deserves better.

[leaguerpg]

THE V&D WRAP UP

this is the tragedy of being born like you.

you had everything and so, now, when it starts to slip away from you, when the veneer of your former life starts to crack and chip away, revealing things that even you are disgusted by--- the loss is incomprehensible; the pain, unbearable.

in the middle of the night, you sit up, your chest heaving. your fingers are twisted into your sheets and you are coated in sweat. though you try, you cannot stop trembling. 

you close your eyes.

you taste salt.

and you are reminded of all that you have done, of the burden that weighs so heavily on your heart. 

you are reminded that you are nothing. you have nothing. there is no one left on your side.

-

your old therapist used to say that you made up ghosts in order to relapse into bad behaviors, but, this time, it is all real.

everywhere you look, you are haunted by the memories of how things used to be, plagued by the guilt of what you have done. you see your sister’s face in every shadow, your mother’s disapproval behind every corner.

and without your old vices to fall onto, there is no escape.

-

you are sitting on the couch when you hear someone else say it for the first time. it comes with an odd sort of finality. though you were there for every step of the way, though you know what has happened better than most the of the people reporting on the information, you cannot tear yourself away. it weighs heavily in your chest. you need to hear it from someone else. 

the television hums, a low drone. the newscaster speaks. 

‘--- a national outrage has erupted across the nation after revelations about the business dealings of a local conglomerate, Valitus and Divitus Pharmaceuticals Incorporated. though CEO Dermot Valentine himself has stepped down in face of this news, it seems like Valitus and Divitus hasn’t escaped scrutiny entirely. we go now to sylvia lancaster on the scene of  chief financial officer samuel wilde where a crowd of protesters have gathered to demand justice for the--’

there is a shot of a crowd of people. the correspondent on the scene starts to speak. 

someone yells, audible over the roar-- monster.

and of course, you know that. 

but, even now, as you look at the picture of samuel floating on the bottom of the screen, as you see all the people, angry and hurt, as you look at him, as you know all that he has done and all that he is guilty of, you cannot bring yourself to condemn him at all.

who is he but your best friend’s father? is he not the man who caught you with a bottle of champagne in the bathroom when you were fifteen and only winked before closing the door? how can you see anything else but the man who clapped you on the back and welcomed you to the company after your first week on the job?

whatever he is guilty of-- it is nothing that you wouldn’t, that you haven’t done.

whatever he is guilty of, whatever monster he may be----- you are too. 

-

it’s over. it’s over. it’s over.

and now what?

you’ve got your revenge. but your sister is still dead.

of course, you knew that this wouldn’t change that. that nothing would be able to bring her back, but some part of you expected something to change. that doing this would give you peace, would quiet the voice in the back of your mind that tells you of all the time you’ve wasted being reckless and stupid and wasteful.

but, so far, nothing has changed.

-

‘i did it for you,’ you hear your mother’s voice come from behind you as you sit alone at dinner, ‘you know that. we’re a family, ro.’

“you know mom loves you, right?” another voice comes through, this one from a distant memory of not so long ago. your sister laughs at you, she shakes her head, “she loves you more than anything. more than even me. that’s why she waits for you when you come back, why she bails you out when you’re in trouble. you should really be nicer to her, romeo.”

nicer? 

nicer?

you slam your hand down on the table. you grit your teeth.

no. 

shut up. 

shut up shutup -

‘she killed you,‘ you yell at the empty room. you kick the door, ‘if she loved me, if she loved any of us, she would have protected you.’ 

‘i don’t care that i hurt her or them or anybody. i did this for you,’ your words echo your mothers and there is nothing you hate more than that. your throat closes up and you shake your head, ‘so no more. you are dead and you are gone. i do not have to listen to you anymore.’

‘the room is empty, ro,’ the voice says again. 

‘you know we cannot hear you.‘

-

“have you heard what dermot valentine did? can you believe it?”

suddenly, the plate in front of you gets more interesting, you bow your head. your fork makes a tinny sound as it drags across the ceramic.

‘i mean it’s disgusting,‘ they say, ‘the epitome of corporate greed. don’t you think so.‘

you smile stiffly, “i mean, but wouldn’t you do the same if it meant giving the people you loved a good life? wouldn’t you step over everyone else if you thought you couldn’t get caught?“

they look at you. with the tiniest of head shakes, they press their lips together.

-

-

-

-

‘‘

‘‘

your cheeks are sallow.

every day you are back, the circles under your eyes get darker. 

[leaguerpg]

kvtia:

                    “ milk and lots of sugar. “  she replies, dumping in what could be estimated as at least a fourth of the container. katia was known to have a sweet tooth and she remembered her father always scolding her for putting so much in. you’re going to get diabetes, daniela. you’re going to get sick, daniela.  but of course, his warnings only made her put more sugar in her cup. 

                    as katia stirs the sugar into the coffee, she shrugs at ro’s question.  “ i met someone in new zealand. ended up being a serious thing and so i told him my real name and that i wasn’t camila taylor from california. things went to shit after that. the end. “  this version is overly simplified, but katia deems it good enough. she knew she needed to talk about it but going over the nitty gritty details would just bring up thoughts she tried to bury.

“Gross,“ he said, staring at the sugar she poured into her drink, before shaking his head quickly, “not the relationship-- the sugar.”

 He paused, before tilting his head to the side, “Actually, I mean the relationship as well. That’s-”

He didn’t quite know how to respond. For a second, he stumbled over his words, before he picked up his own cup of coffee and sipped awkwardly. 

“I’m sorry to hear that.“

It wasn’t quite the empathetic statement he had thought it was going to be, but it was the best he could offer up. He pressed his lips together. “Sometimes the best choices to make aren’t the easiest. And sometimes, boys are stupid.”

He wrinkled his nose sarcastically, “Everyone keeps secrets. I don’t see why a fake name should have tripped him up.”

[leaguerpg]

attacuz:

“Warm welcome,” Atticus quipped in a mumble. He gnawed slightly on his bottom lip when he sat back down again, re-situating the wire frames around his eyes, burying his attention back into his reading, letting the facts drench over him like ice water. “I think there’s some apple slices in the fridge, but I could be wrong.” All he was armed with was the rim of lukewarm coffee. Tumbled by the reading, he’d forgotten about the cup he’d made for himself about an hour or so back. His eyebrows were black archways when he peered over at Romeo. “The news,” he offered simply, with no intention of coarseness. “It’s a shit show.” 

He stared down the questionable apple slices left in the near-empty refrigerator. He slammed the door shut, before raising an eyebrow at Atticus. 

“Isn’t it always though?” he sat himself across from Atticus on the couch and looked at the headlines on the newspaper that the other man was holding, “the world is shit so it shouldn’t really be that surprising.”

[leaguerpg]

side a - 

I don't know what they want from me It's like the more money we come across The more problems we see

[leaguerpg]

dclilahh:

“ were you planning to pay for my treatment if it did? ” she cocks her head to a side, teasing.  “ I don’t buy that, don’t you people always invest in stocks or bonds or whatnot? surely you’re not completely broke.” she wasn’t exactly broke herself, with that offshore account. besides, she could pretty much convince one of those from the wealthy class to buy her certain things. the mention on the rats had her nose wrinkling again. “ I swear I’m going to move out if the rat problem doesn’t get solved soon. ”

she shrugged and placed mangoes into the cart. “ there, problem solved.” cooking, especially for others, wasn’t something she did often. it wasn’t was if she was terrible at it, she’d had to fend for herself those first few years and cooking was cheaper than eating out. then again, food seemed to be an easy ticket to peoples’ good graces in most situations, although she highly doubted theirs’ was a common one. “ for someone who studied biology he doesn’t seem to understand that vitamins are essential, ” she replied, shaking her head to show her disapproval. she might be the youngest, but sometimes it felt like ferris acted the most childish of them all. a smile flashed at the mental image his words brought. “ surely there would be some way to get him to eat some. ”

“You could have certainly tried to make me, but, last time I checked, there wasn’t exactly a high payout rate for apple-related injuries.”

“I don’t know what’s worse, the rats or the allergies,” he shook his head, “Not sure what happened since we came back, but-”

There was a moment as he stared off into space, lost in thought. Running a hand through his hair, he sighed, “-things just haven’t felt the same.”

For more than one reason, Ro had felt out-of-place in the Reato warehouse. However, though it was true, saying it aloud felt uncomfortable. He quickly switched topics, looking at the mangoes and smiling halfheartedly, “Good choice.” 

“Trust me, it’s probably just best to leave Ferris to his own devices. I’ve learned it’s better to let people do what they want.” 

[leaguerpg]

kvtia:

                    she stays silent a moment, eyes glazed over and staring at the knife although her mind was elsewhere. she’s only taken out of her trance when romeo nudges her shoulder. the hand holding the knife dips the sharp edge back into the case nearby, her eyes fluttering up to meet ro’s.  “ coffee would be nice. “  she replies, a small smile managing to pull her lips upwards. katia pauses a moment before looking back to romeo with sad brown eyes. “ yeah… we can talk about new zealand. i was always told it’s better to let things out than keep them in. “

“Just nice?” he rolled his eyes, before continuing sarcastically, “And what absolutely novel advice.”

“Personally, in my experience, it’s best to try and keep everything like a shaken soda bottle. You leave it alone until you forget about it, and, then, when you accidentally open it up, everything blows up in your face,“ he got up to pour out a cup of coffee for both him and Katia. 

“Sugar? Milk? I don’t know how you take it.“

From his spot, on the counter, he rummaged for some mugs, before looking back at her.  

“What are you keeping in, then, Kaitia? What’s going on?“

[leaguerpg]

dclilahh:

supermarkets were always a fifty/fifty scenario with delilah. there were times where she would zip in and out, either already knowing what she wanted, or just not wanting to spend time in there. on the other hand, times such as now, she took her time browsing and was in the midst of contemplating whether she should get strawberries, blueberries or both. hearing her name, she glanced romeo’s way, who was her shopping partner for the day. romeo and juliette grocery shoppin, hilarious. not that anyone would actually know. barely a split second later an apple came sailing her way, and if not for her reflexes it would’ve definitely nailed her in the shoulder. “ watch it, yeah? i bruise easily. ” the last part was exaggerated sarcastically. “ oh boo hoo, poor little rich boy. these are common life skills, you know? what if you ever go broke? ” she teased as she peered into the cart, taking note of what they had so far. “ we should get some pasta and tomato base, it’d be an easy enough meal. and some vegetables, especially for ferris. ”

“Oh, poor you,“ he mimicked her voice, but grinned, “I didn’t hit you, so no need to worry about bruises.”

“Might I just add- I am broke now. We are all broke. That’s why we live with vermin and I have to shop with you,” his voice was low, but he sighed melodramatically, as he wheeled the cart over to her, “And exactly why we’re in the aisle debating apples and oranges. Why not both?”

He bowed his head in mock sorrow, “because some people won’t eat either of them and we don’t have enough for both.”

“I mean, if you’re willing to cook for everyone, I won’t stop you from getting what you want.  But, as funny as the prospect of forcing Ferris to eat vegetables is, I think it’s far safer to leave him be.”

“All those years of malnutrition and he’s turned out like this--- imagine how he could be if he was in peak performance.”

He placed a hand over his heard and shuddered, before laughing, “Just keep the vegetables on the side or else we’ll all have to watch Ferris pick through every single one or starve.”

[leaguerpg]

ferrisnotbueller:

“Sure, sure,” Ferris bit at the inside of his lip. “You’re looking just dandy, I don’t suspect a thing.”

It makes Ferris’ grin grow as Ro looks visibly annoyed. “All this?” Ferris asks, grandly gesturing to himself. He looks on with amusement as he speaks, “does that mean I can’t exist until it becomes brunch time or afternoon? That’s bullshit.”

“I’m not in the wrong timezone. I calculated some sleeping time on the plane to help reset the jetlag,” he whined, crossing his arms defiantly over his chest. “You seem to be the one who got up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. Who pissed on your poutine?”

“Of course you would,” he rolled his eyes, “and that’s not what I meant and you know it.”

He crossed his arms “Maybe I’m the one who is tired, then. Even if I am the one who barely left the time zone.”

Ro looked out into space almost petulantly. For a moment, he said nothing. His jaw was clenched tightly, and he sat down in a chair, before he continued speaking. 

“It’s good enough to see you again, Ferris. How was Taiwan?“

[leaguerpg]

@dclilahh

He leaned on the handle of shopping cart in the aisle of the supermarket, sighing at he stared at the apple he had just picked up. 

“Can’t picture anybody other than me eating this,“ he said wryly, “and, I mean, it’s fruit, it’s not devoid of sugar. Should we get some anyways?”

He waited for a response, and, when there was none, he looked up to see Delilah, a few feet away, not paying attention to him. Sighing, he called out to her. 

“Heads up, Dee” he waited for her to turn to him, before he smirked and tossed the apple at her. 

“Hate to disturb you, but you can’t just stand there and look pretty. We’ve got a job to do, groceries to pick up, and I don’t understand the price of anything.“