gee willikers

[ofthcshvdes-deactivated20240915]

Open for anyone at Darwin || you’re finally here ‘ Bunny & ?

     It had been a few hours since the first two escapees had arrived at the boat, and Bunny was beginning to grow irritated. She wasn’t well known for her patience and polite manners, so the fact she hadn’t completely snapped at someone by now was a miracle. She was here for Wyatt, after all, she couldn’t allow her anger to get the better of her and so she tucked herself away in the confines of her room and told the guards to let her know whenever someone else arrived, bored of standing on the deck in the cold.      She was playing a mobile game, laying back on the plush double bed with her legs dangling over the end. A knock at the door bought a roll of her eyes and an annoyed “what?” in response, when one of her men told her more people were spotted on the horizon she locked her phone and heaved herself up, pulling on her jacket and scarf and heading up to the deck to await their arrival to the yacht.      “Be careful, you can never be sure if they’re ours or not” she instructed the guards who held their guns carefully, ready to aim at the approaching figures. Bunny leaned casually against the railing, watching with the gaze of a lion eyeing approaching prey. When they were close enough, she waved a hand for a few men to go down to greet them and help them onto the boat, she wasn’t completely heartless, she knew they’d had a long journey.

[lelandplz]

Leland waved off the other’s help as best he could, stumbling onto the ship in a state of exhaustion. He stomped over to the nearest seating and collapsed, breathing a huge sigh of relief in spite of the fact that this was not what Wyatt had described to any of them. Leland didn’t seem to care. Or maybe he just didn’t even remember.

“What’s cooking?” He asked, genuinely hoping that something was.

[lelandplz]

[late-night-lark]

@lelandplz​

The snow boots were a little big, though the three pairs of socks she had on inside them made up for it.  Still, Kendall wondered if they were even entirely necessary, the adrenaline leaving her only dimly aware of the cold that bit at the little skin she’d left exposed, though acutely aware of everything else.  It was, in a way, like opening night, and under the pressure, she flourished.  Her attention was sharper, thoughts faster, decisions clearer.  On the narrow line between triumph and disaster, Kendall was in her element.

Right up until she was almost in a ravine.  In the dark, she almost hadn’t seen it, until a bit of kicked up snow went down instead of forward.  She stopped short, suddenly grateful for the other benefit of snow boots: traction.  “Well,” her voice was pointed, but soft as she addressed her companion, arm out to the side to stop him making the same mistake she nearly did.  “That’s a problem.”

[lelandplz]

Naturally, Leland wasn’t paying attention to his surroundings or listening to his companion’s obvious warnings. He stomped obliviously into Kendall’s arm and bowled forward over it, falling headfirst and rolling into a tree that fortunately kept him from tumbling any further. 

“Jesus, why?” He demanded angrily as he peeled his face away from the rough bark of the tree and punched it in an attempt at retribution that was far more painful for him than it was for the tree. “Fuck.” He barked, cradling his wrist even as he began scrambling his way back up the incline before he could continue to make things any worse. “A little warning would be nice next time. Why couldn’t Wyatt just hotwire a truck?” He complained, ready to blame everyone but himself,

[pinotromeo]

Romeo froze when he heard someone walk in, looking up from where he’d been scrubbing his shirt in the sink. He was acutely aware of how he looked, shirtless and covered in icing, with the sign on the door distinctly displaying the word WOMEN.

“I’m not a pervert,” Romeo said before questions could arise. “The men’s room is closed for maintenance.”

[lelandplz]

Leland stopped short when he saw Romeo standing at the sinks, making a face at the state that he was in. 

“You might not be a pervert, but you are most certainly in need of brake fluid.” He grumped as he continued into the bathroom. “You’re probably also a pervert.”

[lelandplz]

kendall-t-maheu‌:

Kendall had been on her way back from the library, considering the back cover of the book she’d just checked out, but she looked up when she heard footsteps approaching to find Leland.  He looked much better than the last time she’d seen him–his coloring was right again, his movement steadier.

She was surprised he’d actively seek her attention, even more-so when he actually expressed what sounded like gratitude.  His phrasing was a little stilted, but she decided, for once, not to press on his clear discomfort.

“It was nothing.  I was in desperate need of some excitement anyhow, and that party didn’t quite carry my brand.”  She shrugged and gave him a crooked smile.  “You feeling better?”

“Well I don’t feel like a wet sock jalopy anymore, so I’d say we successfully dodged the pine overcoat once more.” Leland puffed, looking pretty pleased with himself. Or with both of them, maybe. “I didn’t survive three wars to get back door parole from modern medicine.” He knocked the back of his knuckles against his chest where the now-defunct pacemaker was.

[lelandplz]

tommie-dalton‌:

They’d tried to establish seret santa in Tommie’s office one year. It hadn’t worked. Half of them were too stingy, the rest too busy. The next year they had simply decided to all put a bit of money in and buy a couple of decent bottles of whiskey to share. (Which, Tommie was normally more a white wine person, but whiskey was writing fuel.) She snorted out a laugh at Leland’s response. “Guess you’re right. Will buy present if there’s a guarantee I also get one kinda thing. I’m not so big on the holidays myself, to be honest. What about you?”

“I miss the food.” Leland stated simply, staring down at his hands like he’d misplaced something important. He frowned momentarily before looking back up at her with a blank look, it taking a couple of beats before recognition flickered across his features. “You look like you’d get lots of presents.”

[lelandplz]

@kendall-t-maheu​

Leland was feeling almost human again, the antibiotics he’d managed to steal from the clinic with Kendall’s help seeming to do the trick. He wasn’t entirely sure what had happened the other night, his memory made even foggier than usual between the infection and the alcohol. 

He turned the corner and stopped short when he saw Kendall, his eyes widening as he realized that he owed her some kind of thanks. A distinctly uncomfortable position for the whitest old man alive.

“Good work the other night.” He offered stiffly, feeling obligated to say something even if expressing basic courtesy was a struggle. “Attaboy, girl.”

[tommie-dalton]

Tommie was a face your fears type, staring a king pin straight in the face when he doesn’t even know you’re there, witnessing murders and scandals and all manor of things without making a sound. So yes, the tunnels had collapsed. She’d gotten hurt and lost most of her work and had the very real threat of being found out by the guards for all her snooping. Hadn’t stopped her, of course. “So get this.” She started up as someone sat down across from her in the cafeteria, “with the power of my amazing listening skills I have found out that the staff here are having a secret fucking santa. Can you believe this place? How anyone who works here is a generous enough spirit to go in for that kind of thing is beyond me.”

[lelandplz]

Leland dropped his tray of food onto the table across from Tommie before taking the seat, hunching over the table as he started in on a pile of mashed potatoes that had probably come from a box. 

“I can believe it.” He mumbled around a mouthful of food. “Even Nazis love Christmas.”

[itsjustdustin]

He couldn’t get enough of the sky. It was so wide and so blue and there had been a few moments that Dustin had forgotten how small and comfortable it made him feel. He had spent the majority of his two years at Belmont in the Mad DOGS Compound - though he liked to call it The Kennel. It wasn’t until recently that he had been moved to the gen. pop area for ‘good behavior’. He could understand why they threw him in the kennel when he first arrived but it took him nearly two years to convince them that he wanted to be at Belmont - for fucks sake, he was the one that turned himself in in the first place. He was thankful for the grounds that made him powerless because his power had brought him nothing but trouble. 

Dustin kicked his shoes off and stretched out further in the stretch of grass in front of the administration building. He liked it here in particular. There was a clearing without trees here so he could lay in the middle, away from any amount of shadows. It was also in clear view of the guard that sat inside the administration building - which gave Dustin comfort that he couldn’t possibly get blamed for anything and get his privileges taken away. And lastly, it was the furtherest spot he could get from the kennel on the campus of Belmont without seeming suspicious. 

Dustin had just been getting comfortable when a shadow crossed over his eyelids, blocking out the sun. They’ve found me, he thought. My demons have found a way around Belmont and they’ve come for me. He pried his eyes open against his own will and found himself staring up at a silhouette above him. “Plenty of space to stand around here, friend. D’you mind?” 

[lelandplz]

Leland glowered at the young man, finding it absurd how many of these young whippersnappers found it necessary to sass him in this place. Maybe a retirement home would have been better after all, but he probably would have been bored.

“Ya ever heard of skin cancer?” He demanded. “It’s a real thing, and nobody is safe.”

[lelandplz]

kendall-t-maheu‌:

“Woah-ho-ho, I don’t think so.”  Kendall reached to still the hand that had grabbed for the red solo cup.  “That might kill bacteria–” and all other organic matter it came in contact with “–but I think it’s about the last thing you need right now.”  She tried to gently prize the drink from his grip, using the proximity that required to study him, make sure he wasn’t about to collapse or something.  The fever was obvious and no doubt the byproduct of the amateur surgery she’d heard about, but that was about as far as her medical intuition extended.  In lieu of actual symptoms to check for then, she was left to watch his eyes for some sign of recognition amidst the delirium.

She found none.  He seemed to have perked up a bit from the earlier rumination, so at least that was something.  Kendall sighed, attention shifting to the offered pinky promise with equal parts amusement and resignation.  “You’re just…totally not here right now, arentcha.”  It wasn’t a question.  She certainly didn’t expect an answer.

Maybe she should’ve moved.  Some people might consider this an invasion of a private moment, but that wasn’t the sort of thing to really bother Kendall.  On the other hand, other people might consider it just fundamentally unsettling.  Kendall was among them, but she still stayed put.  She wasn’t sure why.  Perhaps out of morbid curiosity or concern that he’d die if left unattended.  Some of both, probably, but also, she didn’t want to admit, out of sympathy.  Whatever it was he was seeing was apparently using her presence as a scaffold, and she figured that if she left, it would leave with her.

She still hadn’t taken the pinky promise.  She wasn’t sure if it mattered if she did.  Christ, she’d had people switch out her company for others’ plenty of times before but this was next level.

“I could say whatever I wanted.” Kendall said, pushing him slightly with the hand still on his shoulder, his fever burning through his shirt.  “And you wouldn’t hear a damn thing.”

Leland made a face as she took the drink from his hand, though it didn’t seem to raise flags of any color for him. No, it was leaving him hanging with the pinky promise that caused something in his brain to trigger. He stared down at his own hand and flexed the finger, his brow furrowing before he looked back up at her again only to realize that the person he was talking to was not at all Mildred. In fact, it was possible that she might not even be human. With blue hair, pale skin (exaggerated by the moonlight), and giant round doll eyes, it wasn’t hard to imagine that she might’ve crashed nearby and was trying to blend in until help came. No, wait- that was the fever talking. It had to be. 

“I have the eardrums of a twenty-two year old.” He snapped in response to her comment about him not being able to hear her.  He reached for his drink, wrestling it back from her with an obstinate frown. He was annoyed that he’d lost sight of his ghost. “Come on, then.” He snapped, scrambling to his feet. He nearly tipped headfirst down the stairs, resting his hand on the top of her head for balance. “Help me break into the clinic.”

[lelandplz]

Freaky Friday: No powers at all.

“Is this an interview or a test? I would have died forty years ago without ‘em.”

[lelandplz]

Freaky Friday: Spider Powers. For no reason. Just curious.

“What kind of question is that? As a male spider, I guess I’d be lucky if I got to fuck before being eaten alive by my mate. If I’m unlucky, I get murdered with a shoe and die a virgin. Does that sound powerful to you?”

[lelandplz]

I mean, I can't imagine you switching out your powers because wouldn't you just die? BUT it's Freaky Friday so: if someone, not saying it's me, but someone had some degree of telekinesis, would you want it?

“I’m pretty sure that’s just a fancy word for witchcraft, but I’d still take it in the interest of keeping the remote control from you punks.”

[lelandplz]

"First of all, you're a disgrace to slumber party culture. Second, maybe this'll help: fmk, that would be fuck, marry, kill, if you didn't know – the ...dame who you literally let slice your chest open last week, the blue-haired ...broad? that never shuts up (that would be me), and uh, how do I describe Mac...the sassy new guard. There. Ring any bells?" - @kendall-t-maheu

Dear Dame with the knife,                   I’m too old for you. Appreciate your assistance the other day, though. Best wishes, -Leland

Dear Blue-haired broad,                   I’m too old for you. I appreciate your consideration (and explanation of the game, I guess. Don’t kids have anything better to do these days? Back in my day we threw rocks at boats and other kids.).                   I cannot fuck or marry you because it would be inappropriate. And I won’t kill you. Best regards, -Leland

Mac, Is that a girl’s name? -Leland

[lelandplz]

FMK — Marissa, Kendall, Mac

I don’t know them, so I’d just put their names in a hat and let fate decide. 

[lelandplz]

kendall-t-maheu‌:

“Yeah, but the lies could be entertaining,” she countered, before quirking an incredulous brow at his excuse.  “Sure, Leland.”  Still, even as she said it, the flush across his face stood out to her.  She furrowed her brows, about to ask if he was feeling okay when he reached for her.

Kendall nearly jumped out of her skin at the feeling of someone else’s fingers in her hair, despite how gentle they were.  If anything, that only added to the confusion as she jerked away, wide eyes searching his face for some indication of just what the hell was going on.  And then he spoke, and she realized as far as he was concerned, she wasn’t herself.  She could guess at who she was–generally at least–but before she could snap him out of it with a dose of her usual acerbic wit, he’d continued.  Kendall didn’t consider herself sentimental, or even particularly empathetic, but that tugged at her heart strings enough to give her pause.

“Hey uh, Leland, buddy…”  She trailed off.  What the hell was the proper response to this situation?  “I think maybe you’re uh, you’re not doing so hot right now.”  Carefully, she placed one hand on his shoulder, hoping it might ground him back in reality.

Leland took notice of her unexpected reaction but chalked it up to completely unrelated reasons. He didn’t see as much of Mildred’s ghost as he would have liked, his confusion typically presenting as memory distortion or loss. He currently had the brain of a twenty-two year old, but the gaps that had been left persisted. It took something like blood loss or a high fever to conjure the ghost of his late wife, which might in part explain why Leland was so cavalier in regards to his health.

His breath huffed from his chest in response, a kneejerk reaction to any display of worry on his behalf. Inexhaustible concern was one of the many things he’d always loved about Mildred, though. His childhood had been so underwhelming that he’d wanted to cut it short as much as he’d been forced to, which led to petty crime, which had then led to lower-level associations with the mob, which was then interrupted by the third registration of the draft during World War I. He’d been aggressively bouncing through life like a ping-pong ball prior to meeting his wife, and her compassion had completely altered his life. None of that was to say that Mildred had been a perfect human being, but in Leland’s eyes she had been.

“I just need antibiotics.” He assured her, reaching for the cup of bootleg spirits that he’d brought outside with him. In spite of the way that Leland presented himself, he wasn’t completely clueless. He’d been shot, stabbed, and bitten enough in his one-hundred and nineteen years to have an idea of what he was dealing with. He’d decided it was worth suffering through the infection and taking the risk of dying at old (old) age it if it meant the occasional lucky hallucination like this one. He probably could wake up the staff, or more likely break into the clinic and attempt to treat himself, but those were options at any time and this wasn’t. He was almost certain that she would disappear if he tried to move, and Mildred had never been the type to condone breaking and entering. “Don’t fuss. I’ll go in the morning.” He promised, lifting his hand and extending his pinky to swear by it. 

[traptacular-deactivated20180125]