The Oddball

Samantha Sullivan . 23 "I've got an elastic heart." & I want it, I want my life so bad. I'm doing everything I can -- then another one bites the dust. It's hard to lose a chosen one.

[bidoctor]

[melancholylikesully-blog]

david-burke:

David only offered another shrug, not seeing the point in trying to answer her. Firstly because he wasn’t sure he had one, and secondly because he couldn’t believe he’d actually said it in the first place. It was one thing to admit something like that to someone he was closer with, it was another thing entirely to blurt it out to someone he hardly knew. If shame was something he could actually feel, he might have been hit with it then. “I don’t know if it drives me crazy,” he started, “but it makes it hard to answer your question.” His lack of ability to put himself in others’ situations had only caused him minor problems, most of which had little effect on him. However, he would admit that it made him feel odd at times – most others could have at least made an attempt to provide an answer to her inquiry. He, on the other hand, was completely incapable of that. He couldn’t keep his stare away from her throat, and unfortunately, the longer he looked at it the more he wanted to strangle her. It wasn’t just his usual kill drive at play, however, there was something else beneath it. He didn’t know what it was, but it was strong and very, very persuasive. But so was the idea of getting another drink, and that simple fact that she was right – she had a kid to look after. It frustrated him that she’d managed to find a way to use that against him – and who knew? Maybe it wouldn’t work for long, but it had for the time being. He stared back at her, his expression bordering on murderous, but after a slight pause and a snake-like hiss, he reached out to take the bottle from her. “Yeah, I can agree to that.” And while he didn’t say it aloud, his thoughts rang with the rest of the statement – for now.

Sam touched her ear to her shoulder in a shrug, nodding as she straightened up again. “It’d drive me crazy.” She voiced with a perk of her brows, and brought her elbows down to rest on her knees. There were things to admire about David, odd as it was, particularly his ability to constantly assert logic over everything else. As she fell into thought about it, her gaze shifted to stare blankly into the distance, lips barely parted. She couldn’t help wondering about if she’d had that quality -- and then another question came to her. Tuning back into her surroundings, her eyes found him again and she gave a small apologetic smile, though she hoped he hadn’t notice her space out. However, this time when she realized where his gaze was directed, she kept quiet; the question dissolving in her head as if it wasn’t even there to begin with. She didn’t dare to even swallow -- nothing that could draw attention to her neck could work in her favour. It wasn’t until David’s gaze was back on her face that she slowly exhaled, attempting to hide it from him. Her fingers released the bottle the second he had his hand on it and she quickly retracted her arm back to her side, watching him the entire time. “Thanks.” Despite the fact that she basically just told him to kill someone else in place of her, she didn’t feel guilty. Maybe she would in the morning when she was sober and realized what she’d done, but she forgot all about it now. “...So, does that end this night? It’s not an easy recovery from that.”

[melancholylikesully-blog]

david-burke:

Whether it’d been something he’d done or not, he couldn’t say, but she suddenly didn’t seem to be so angry anymore. It was a nice change, since he’d been trying to avoid it, but he had to wonder what had brought on that bout of irritability in the first place. It wouldn’t have bothered him in the slightest to be told that there was little he could do to prevent anyone from dying, and he couldn’t understand – especially not in the state he was in – why others might have been different. If he could think clearly, maybe he could have gotten it a bit better. He sniffed again, continuing to poke despondently at his empty drink. If only he could have willed more to appear outside of the kitchen, that would have been nice. When he looked back at her again, he was surprised by her, well, surprise, wondering what might have caused it. He squinted at her, trying to figure out the answer, but he didn’t get anywhere – luckily, he didn’t have to, because she somewhat gave him his answer with a question of her own. It was the kid thing, he should have known. “Yeah, I like kids,” he said, offering a bit of a clumsy shrug. He let out a whine as she continued, shaking his head. “I can’t. I can’t do that thing where you… I don’t know what it’s called. I don’t know what I’d do in, uh, in situations I haven’t been in. I can’t imagine it because I don’t know what it’s like. I can’t… wear his shoes, or whatever the fucking saying is.” He kept his eyes on her neck for a moment longer, wanting nothing more than to just reach over and curl his hands around it. It’d be nice, it’d feel nice, and nobody could blame him because he wasn’t sober. And he’d warned her, too, she had plenty of time to get away. He’d almost started to lean forward when she spoke again, and his attention broke, his gaze retraining on her face. “Give it to me,” he said, “and I’ll think about finding someone else.”

“...Of all things to never mention, that is what you went with?” She asked almost in disbelief after a short pause. Admittedly, she was more surprised at that than she should have been. Every serial killer she’d run into during her time at the asylum didn’t share much about themselves as far as their likes and interests were concerned -- with the exception of where there disorders played a part. Then again, Sam had never talked to a psychopath as often or as in depth as she did with David, and Cohen now that she thought about it. David’s response to her almost had her giggling, but she managed to suppress it down to a grin. “Now that’s gotta drive you crazy sometimes... sometimes as in, when a girl like me asks these kinds of questions.” She could only assume it annoyed him, though that wasn’t her initial intention. Merely keeping her gaze on his eyes, she caught the slip of his stare to her neck and narrowed her eyes in response. It was in that moment that she felt the reality of the danger she’d put herself in, and it didn’t go unconsidered by her that he might just act on his implied threat. Her grin receded, lips taking their natural position upon her nearly expressionless face. “You will find someone else,” she rectified, bringing her brows up as she spoke. “Because I have a kid to take care of, like I told you, and now I know that even you understand that.” She added, pausing to catch his reaction before she slowly held the bottle out to him, though she kept her grip tight around its neck. “Can you agree to that?”

[melancholylikesully-blog]

lottie-ripsky:

“I…” Being asked that somehow made her uneasy. Lottie was beginning to feel an invisible pressure from not knowing certain societal norms. She was able to tell that the question meant no harm, but it still had her tense slightly. Images of being home and watching the neighborhood participate in trick ‘r treating from her room window flooded her mind. “My mom never let me.” Shrugging slightly, she was quick to pick up the duster to use against the top of the clean dresser. This was one instance in which cleaning kept her from caving in on herself due to anxiety. If people did dress up around here, was she supposed to? The idea of participating scared her, just because it was foreign. She could always avoid it. The excitement in Sully’s voice made her want to smile, not that she could manage one. “What are you going to be? Or…who?”  

The switch of the mood in the room didn’t go unnoticed to the raven haired, and she almost felt bad for it since it was what she said that caused the shift. Unfortunately she didn’t know the other girl well enough to know how to go about handling the silence that hung over them, so she felt relieved when Lottie’s voice took over. However, her expression transitioned to disbelief upon hearing her -- what kid isn’t allowed to participate in Halloween? The ignorance behind her question obviously went unnoticed to Sully, and luckily before she had a chance to voice it out in the open something else occurred to her. Instead of potentially causing her opposite to feel bad or bringing another silence over them, maybe she could focus on the good in what she’d just said. “Oh, well Halloween is nothing compared to having a mom.” Another ignorant remark for someone in their circumstance also gone unnoticed by her. “I was thinking a witch. It’s classic, easy to make with the stuff I own and a little art room supplies. It should be no problem.” She answered, smiling wide as she kept her eyes on her. “So... now that your mom isn’t here though, do you want to join in on the Halloween fun?”

[melancholylikesully-blog]

david-burke:

David sniffed, reaching up to scrub at his face with his hands. When they dropped away, he noticed that her smile had seemed to fall away. If he’d been someone else, perhaps he would have asked about it, but given his nature he would have to admit that he couldn’t care. His eyes flitted over towards the empty bottle he’d placed in the grass, and he reached over to brush at it with his fingers. He wanted more to drink. He shouldn’t have, he was already past the point where he was safe, but he couldn’t care about that either. A forked tongue darted out to wet at his lips, a prickle of frustration rising higher within him the longer he stared at the empty bottle. He looked back at her when she snapped, a look of near-surprise on his face, though it didn’t last very long. “I never said you didn’t,” he said, raising a hand in a vaguely placating gesture. The movement was clumsy, but it was genuine – he didn’t need anyone to be angry at him. “Sure, I get it. Kids need all the help they can get.” David himself had a bit of a soft spot for them, though he would only admit that begrudgingly – not that he needed to, it was obvious enough whenever he was around them. He reached up to wipe at his mouth again, and had he been sober, he might have been ashamed at how much he was talking. Okay, not ashamed, but uncomfortable was a word he would use. Later on he definitely would be, but for the moment talking too much was perfectly alright with him. He listened to her question, his eyes squinted as he tried to understand where she was coming from, but he couldn’t. “How the fuck would I know that?” he asked, though his voice wasn’t as harsh as his words might have come across – he sounded genuinely confused that anyone could have an answer to that kind of question. “I’ve never had that problem before.” And he didn’t think he ever would, because he knew Bradley well enough to know that he was too nice to hurt him. Well, too nice to hurt him in any other way than making him promise stupid things. Another fit of chuckles escaped him, and he ducked his head down in an attempt to stifle it. When he came back up again, his expression had changed, and suddenly that feral look in his eyes was… more obvious. “But I want to,” he told her, his eyes trained on her neck. “I really, really want to.”

David’s reply to her sudden outburst had Samantha physically sinking into herself as she felt embarrassment start to affect her, as well as a hint of disappointment in herself. She sat down again in a hunched position with her knees slightly pointed up, legs remaining crossed and her chin lowered into her neck. Replying to his gesture with silence, though her gaze travelled up to his face once more and lingered as he spoke again, she was immediately taken by surprise; her features twisted awkwardly. It wasn’t like David was a direct enemy of hers, but of course she couldn’t find it in herself to trust him, or even take him seriously on the topic of kids -- unless, of course, it involved something tragic. “Do you mean that? Or are you being funny in a way that I don’t get?” She asked flat out, wearing an irritable expression as she perked a brow at him. Finally sitting up tall, her back cracking in the process, she was reminded by the wipe of his mouth that she still had at least a shots worth left her in her bottle. She lifted the beverage subtly -- just enough to glance down at it as she contemplated finishing it off. Usually there was no contemplation necessary, but she was drinking with a killer and for some reason only acknowledged the dangers of it now -- after the alcohol was taking effect. “Oh, come on, Burke. Use your imagination.” She encouraged, her tone starting to become lazy. Anyone else was probably smart enough to make an early exit, however, there was a certain darkness about David that kept Samantha hanging around regardless of her caution while sober. Upon seeing her opposites newly provoked expression, her gaze froze on him, sending him a cold look -- before the hint of a playful smile started on her lips, changing her mood completely. “And I was gonna give you the last shot...”

[melancholylikesully-blog]

lottie-ripsky:

Maybe it was bragging, but not all bragging was distasteful. It helped push her semi-smile into a real once, amusement touching her eyes. Lottie was glad she wouldn’t have to be alone, too. She led the rest of the way to her room and set the items neatly down. “You can sit on the bed, if you’d like.” She was silent while considering the question. “I…I don’t know…I don’t really know how.” Leaning against the dresser she was about to start cleaning, her gaze was on the floor. She knew that Halloween was for children, but was never allowed to celebrate before. It hadn’t crossed her mind until now that people might dress up. “Are you?”

As she entered Lottie’s room, her gaze automatically surveyed the place. There was a bed, a dresser, a screen that she assumed served the same purpose as the ones in all of the other rooms -- if only she knew how to use technology like this; Broken certainly never had anything so nice and modern. By the time Sully was seating herself on the bed, she had looked over everything, some things even twice only to find that this room was simply identical to her own. The only thing that gave it a different vibe was her belongings. “What do you mean you don’t know how?” She asked, her expression tight with confusion. She’d never heard it like that before. “Of course! Halloween is my favorite day of the year and nothing  is gonna stop me from celebrating. My costume will be easy enough to make.”

[zodiacchic]

[melancholylikesully-blog]

lottie-ripsky:

Relief washed over her when she was able to explain. The raven haired woman also did a good job of making her feel like the small mix up wasn’t a big deal. That made it easier to breathe and caused a tiny smile to almost form. “No, thank you,” She declined the kind help since she didn’t want to put anyone to work when she could take care of it. “But some company would be nice.”

“I can do company. -- Not to brag but I’ve even gotten compliments on my company before.” Sully boasted, somewhat playfully. She led them back into a walk before slowing down so Lottie could lead, flexing and unflexing her hands just in case she had to catch something the other girl dropped. “Hey, I know it’s a weird question considering where we are, but are you gonna dress up for Halloween?”

[melancholylikesully-blog]

david-burke:

Again, against what he should have done, he brought the bottle back up to his lips, tilting his head back to get the last of the liquid within it. He pulled it down and dropped his head after a moment, eyeing the empty thing with something close to disappointment. He shook it away a second later, dropping it down onto the grass. His gaze retrained itself on his opposite as she spoke, his expression still near dangerous in appearance. “Worrying’s pointless,” he spoke at last, “it won’t change whether the kid dies or anything.” Perhaps he’d been a bit blunt with his phrasing, but he couldn’t find it in himself to try and filter things. It seemed just as pointless as worry did, in that moment. A bark of laughter escaped his lips when she mentioned the oddness of their relationship, which turned into a fit of chuckles that lasted a bit too long. “I don’t understand it either, honestly,” he said once his laughter had died away. “I mean, I’ve done all these terrible things to people, including him! Including him, I should make that clear… and yet he sticks around still. It’s weird, I don’t understand why he does it. I love him, but I don’t get why he’s… uh, you know. Around still.” Again, he’d said more than he’d wanted to, but unlike the last time he didn’t feel any annoyance behind it. Who cared if he rambled a little? He sure didn’t. Another little chuckle was elicited from him at her question, and he shook his head. “No, I didn’t. I just needed him to not leave, so I said what he wanted to hear. I mean… I tried, but it didn’t work. I can’t not hurt people.”

Icy eyes following the whiskey bottle to the ground, it was in that exact moment that Samantha began to feel her enthusiastic exterior dissolve. At some point the alcohol always made this side of her surface and although she preferred her ‘fake it ‘til you make it’ motto, it wasn’t enough to keep her off drinking. She met his stare casually as she traced her finger tip around the rim of her bottle, listening -- at the mention of the child dying her eyes widened double in size. “I know that!” She snapped before she could stop herself; however, regardless of how his words rattled her, she knew he had a point. “I don’t think of her as mine or anything, but most people just look out for themselves... she can’t do that for herself yet, so I have to. And I don’t mind.” Sam explained in a stern tone, brows raising at him as if that showed she was that much more serious. In the blink of an eye the mood of the conversation switched -- David’s laughter filled her ears, nearly bringing a smile to her lips even though she tried hard to suppress it. She felt surprised at how much he had chosen to share with her about his and Bradley’s relationship, and as she finished off the rest of her beverage she stood up, placing one hand on her hip while holding the empty glass bottle in the other. “There’s only one question, would you have done the same and stick around all of this time if things were the other way around?” After she asked her question, her overall concern grew for Bradley and what David might say, not that his partner would ever know. She never anticipated having this kind of conversation with a noted serial killer. “You have your moments... you’re not hurting me now.”

[melancholylikesully-blog]

lottie-ripsky:

“Uhm…” By the confusion settled on the other’s features, Lottie realized something she said had been mistaken for, well…she wasn’t familiar with any Jewish festival. It caused her to slow her steps to a hault to meet that icy gaze. Shifting the products carefully so that none would slip, she motioned with her hand as if she were wiping down surfaces of a room. “A good pass over…a good cleaning…” Suddenly a hint of pink entered her face–embarrassment–for having used an incorrect phrase, yet remembering slang was always tricky for her. Lottie nodded in the direction of her room, motioning for Sully to follow if she wanted. “You’re not busy, are you?” She questioned since she would like to make a friend today.

Stopping with her, Sully’s brows ceased to relax until Lottie clarified -- at which point she wished she had the excuse of being drunk for the misunderstanding. Squeezing her eyes shut briefly, she wiped her forehead with her hand and set her sights back on her opposite as a smile quickly settled upon her features. At the same time she caught a glimpse of embarrassment on the others face and instinctively shook her head her. “Duh, right? That one went right over my head, it wasn’t you.” She assured her kindly and nodded at the gesture to hang around. The girl seemed harmless enough, and her reserved personality made Sully feel oddly comfortable with her. “Can’t say I am. Why, you need a hand?”

[melancholylikesully-blog]

somethingjbrelated:

“I don’t want to. I’ve been told that my hole life. It sucks.”

It does, no doubt about that, but at the same time you’re still kickin’ dude. That’s gotta mean it’s working.

Look, I don’t know about you, but a big mug of tea always makes me feel better. Do you want one?

[faye-chamberlain]

[melancholylikesully-blog]

dante-boucher:

Dante chuckled at the dark haired woman as her ice blue eyes watched him. It didn’t make Dante feel uncomfortable, he found it amusing. .Dante seemed to find most things amusing, humor was something that he was fond off. “Thanks, glad I pass. I was a bit nervous there.” He smiled at her before collecting his work. “I look pretty broody, I think that is what throws people off.” He glanced back up at her. He somewhat smiled at her offer, he set his wood cravings down. He dusted off his hands as he made over to her, he grabbed the bottle taking a heavy swig of it. He smiled in content as the warm liquid. “Good choice..ah, name introductions seems to have slipped my mind. I’m Dante.” He spoke with a smile and extended the bottle back to her. 

Sully smiled a little bit more in response to what he said, and she chuckled shortly after he continued. “Maybe. You don’t seem so broody once you start talking.” She complimented casually, taking another quick shot while he set his things down. As he walked over and made a grab for the bottle, she released her fingers from around it and let her hand fall to her side. Deciding to take this as an opportunity to sway into a step to the side, the raven haired walked around him and, appearing to be somewhat distracted by her surroundings, slowly made her way over to the wood carvings he had just set down. “Thanks. If you ever need a booze recommendation, I’m your girl.” She said with almost a little too much enthusiasm, and then scampered over to him as he held out her beverage -- all before she could see what he had been working on. “I’m Sully. Nice to meet you.” She said, taking the bottle from his hand only to replace it with hers, and shook it firmly. “So, uh... what were you workin’ on before you caught me?”

[melancholylikesully-blog]

xemina-villalobos:

Probably right. Enjoy it? It’s eerie, too eerie for my liking or comfort. How can enjoy it? [She asked with a sincere tone of curiosity.]

Really? [She chuckled, her faint smile hinting there was sadness in it.] My sister loved that movie. You’re welcome. 

First you have to stop thinking of it as eerie and creepy and all that. Don’t tune it out exactly, but don’t fixate on it. Second, indulge yourself in everything that’s being given to us. I can’t even tell you how many drinks I’ve had since I got here, it’s like an open bar. Maybe we’ll leave and maybe we won’t, but if we do at least three quarters of us are going back to the asylum, and the last quarter probably can’t afford half of the food we're getting now. -- I know I’d never had filet mignon until I was here. But that’s best case scenario, of course.

Does your sister make you sad, or did something happen...? I just... I noticed you looked kind’ve sad.

[melancholylikesully-blog]

somethingjbrelated:

“This purgatory crap. We’ve been here for almost three months. I want it to be over.”

Has it really been that long? -- ...Damn.

I think mostly everyone does, even though that’s probably not what you want to hear right now. Hang in there and just take it one day at a time.

[melancholylikesully-blog]

bradleycallahan:

“They say I’m a friendly guy,” Bradley said with a bright grin. “Though I guess that’s not really my call, is it?”

“Not that I know of,” the blonde mused, pondering for a moment. It was true; he hadn’t seen anyone new for a while now. Curious. But then again, the whole nature of their situation was much more than curious. “Maybe this is it then? Just us?”

“Maybe not, but I can say that you’re a friendly guy, right? That’s something I can do, and it’s true. -- Hey that rhymed.” She beamed at the realization and felt more or less clever because of it. “That scares me, I won’t lie to you. I feel like... that means the games are really going to begin or something... but don’t worry. We’re tough, remember?”

[melancholylikesully-blog]

astrid-eldridge:

Yeah, I-just meant safer than with zombies running around. Why have you been attacked out in the open? Is that something else I shouldn’t be looking out for?

Alright. Ghost walking through walls, [Astrid faintly smiled, giving away that she was joking.] I’m joking. I heard room 109 was the gateway to hell, I also heard stories of many unexplained deaths, rapes, murder. I guess they had a really fucked up system back then cause most of these happenings were pinned on innocent people for the most part. Thanks, I need to apply some logic to shit to keep my sanity. [She nodded.] Yeah, gentle, got it. Let’s check the bathroom first. [Astrid began to walk toward the nearest bathroom.] So who was the first person to call you Sully?

Oh, well I guess that part is true. Have I been...-- not here. Not yet anyway, but don’t put it past anyone.

Funny ‘cause you aren’t far off. But yeah, I hate to say all of that is true, but it is. Everything was mostly better after Cody took over. Things were looking up and as structured as it could be. I guess the scale had to tip the other way again at some point, right? I don’t blame you -- in fact I’m impressed you found something at all to anchor your sanity. [After nodding in response, the icy eyed fell in beside Astrid with her arm elevated] Er... I want to say Cohen, but that name was before his time. I don’t remember any more to be honest, I guess it’s been that long. Is there a short form of Astrid?