BRIGHT AS BLASPHEMY

[niratias]

NOTHING IS REAL & THIS IS A SIMULATION.

indie, private/selective antagonist-focused multi featuring ocs and canons. horror, sleaze, & pulp inspired by HC and death metal.

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[femrevenge]

Kalia's hand shooed some of the men back, men that were a little overly protective of her. It wasn't like very daughter of a crime boss got involved in such things, but she was far different from any of the other ones. The thrill, the excitement it gave her to be front and center of certain situations made her not want to ever give this up. Her brother Kieran however was a little reluctant of letting her out on her own, but she knew just how to handle herself. She was indeed, her father's daughter. Her hands dug into the bar, grabbing a beer with one hand and reaching it over in Pac's direction. The bottle make a distinct clunk sound against the hardened surface, her sitting on a chair behind the bar. "It's on the house if you want it." Head tilted to the side, hair falling from her shoulder thus only flipping it behind her. "And don't worry about them, I told them I wanted you all to myself. Won't get you jumped unless you deserve it, which that's doubtful."

Her plump lips took a sip put of her own drinking glass, placing it in front of her with pursed lips. "So... what can I do for you? Is your friend okay?"

[niratias]

Pac accepts the drink. It's good decorum, but it's also a good one- he's a picky man- and the price is right. Accept the drink, potentially make a friend...for a time, if not long-term. So he twists off that cap bare-handed and takes a drink, eyes on Kalia the whole while.

"He's fine." The bottle's set down with a gentle thump. "He does this, periodically." Every time Gabe fucks off to play at War Dog, to resurrect the past. That can't last much longer. "I'm here to apologize on his behalf. He's one of ours, and before I pull him out of the latest hell of his own creation, I wanted to speak with you personally about the damages. We'll cover them, if you want."

[nightshiftmedic]

+. While Gabe spoke, Chiaki let his gaze stroll over his body in the dim light coming in from the street lamp above. Questions tumbling around in his mind - lost in thought.

...--- What had actually happened to him?

All bodies had a story to tell without a single word being spoken aloud, and most showed more than what they wanted to. The scars that detailed Gabe's body didn't only tell Chiaki that he'd been through a lot externally -- but internally as well. Something he kept in mind for his response, which came up shortly thereafter.

"... There are many hours left until morning comes. And out here at this hour, well...It's not the safest to spend while you're not only concussed but also drunk..."

Damnit.

Chiaki shouldn't do this. But...

He'd feel like he'd never be able to forgive himself if something happened to another lost soul in Gotham if he had a chance to help all along.

"--...You can come over to my place. I really wouldn't mind. You'll have somewhere safe to stay, and we can see what I can do about the bruises and cuts you got. Some ice for your hand as well, until you've figured out what to do."

With a step back, Chiaki offered his hand for the other to take so he could get up from the ground without hurting himself more. To tell him, to assure -- he wasn't giving up on him just yet.

"It's not far -- if you feel okay to walk for a bit." .+

[niratias]

Gabe looks up to Chiaki for a long moment. Under the concussion-haze, the alcohol-glaze, there's a keen intelligence- a working dog presently without a master, having slipped both chain and collar. Maybe this is his best option to stay the fuck out of the pound.

So he takes the hand and stands, partially with help, mostly on his own, though he does stagger a step or two with a frustrated grunt. He knows he's out of sorts. He KNOWS how much trouble he's in. His denial soothes his ego, yes, but more than that, it's a method of self-punishment. Pain is good when it's destructive, right?

"I can walk." He could go for hours if he had to. Has. There was a time once, in South Korea...ah, but now his mind is wandering, and he's already in step with Chiaki, and he doesn't even SEE the bar anymore, so clearly they've been walking for a while.

Fucking time warp bullshit.

"If this is an elaborate move to fuck me, can it wait until morning?" He's probably joking.

Probably.

[ofcoldblooded]

eros is quiet for a moment. he recognizes those mushrooms. he's lived in the area for years now and analyzed a lot of what was around for his own curiosity and amusement. raising a clawed digit and pointing at him.

❛ hey, man. i don't judge. the mushrooms, i mean. it's organic enough, so how harmful could they really be, eh? ❜

that does pique his interest though. what could have made the delivery guy drop his packages? out here, maybe a bear. or a cougar. it was hard to say, really.

❛ weeelp, yeah! sure, if it's no issue. i'd like to actually get my monthly food supply before the wild animals do. ehe. ❜

[niratias]

"They're great," Milo says, all smiles. "Remind me of a type from back home...But! I can't get those here. So a substitute is welcome." He gets cravings for things that simply can't grow out of specialized biomes he builds in his home greenhouse, but even them, propagating alien plants here is risky. Too many life forms to potentially destroy in the process! Other plants, yes, but what about the pollinators? And what about WHAT those feed on?

Sure isn't organic decay...

"Great, then- I'll help out! My business isn't as time-sensitive. Follow me?"

Milo matches his stride to Eros' own. It's clear he's quick when he's alone- too quick despite those long legs. Maybe he was an athlete once.

Over a log, around a big oak, around (or through!) a patch of poison ivy...and there are a bunch of packages from various vendors and, oddly, various carriers.

Some of them seem to be spattered with gore. Not all of them are Eros' expected delivery.

[niratias]

tonight's goal: 4 replies for 4 different people

[niratias]

home! workout and dynamite but otherwise here.

your fact of the day is i think the ducks-in-jeeps thing is fucking stupid and the landfills are too full of the plastic junk of trends past to sustain more. 9 times out of 10 said jeep drives like a fucking asshole too. oh wait, duh- it's a jeep driver-

[niratias]

Sometimes I see pics from a few years ago and its like. Who the FUCK are they

[niratias]

This righteous anger boiling inside of us Won't last forever, don't fear to let it out Branches have grown through The wolf is your master

[luch3gor3]

We're playing with fire here, and we both know it. | Drilla—Gabe @niratias

Sparing a glance at the other he tilts his head like a confused mutt before he is smiling all teeth. Usually that means danger to other people. For Gabe though, it means fun. “When the hell did you go and start waxing poetry to me? You got more things in there you want to spill out to me, you rascal?” Drilla reaches over and wraps his arm around Gabe’s neck and drags him in. “Gotcha—“ He noogies Gabe, rough berating of his knuckles on that dome of his because he knows he can take it. He breathes close to his ear and that playful nature only escalates as he bites down on Gabe’s top lope. It’s not hard, his teeth just making themselves known and he huffs a laugh before he lets the skin go. He doesn’t press away though. “What the fuck do you think you’re rambling about?” He says, breathe against his cheek, lips pressed against ear as he grows serious for a second, curiosity and almost a sliver of worry for what he might be implying. 

[niratias]

There are unseen depths in Gabe's head at all times. The kind of shit he mutters to himself alone in the shower. The kind of shit he sweats out on a solo jog, or on the beach early in the fucking morning when it's too cold for anyone sane to be out, just at the edge of where the tide laps in, daring it to get him. Hoping against hope that it will.

As always, when he's dragged on in for that rough love- the best kind, if he were to be asked- he takes it. Doesn't pull away. Tries to cheer up a little, grin widening when his ear's caught in that light bite, which makes him hold still like he were really concerned about losing a chunk. He knocks his face against Drilla's. Personal space is fake. Every excuse, every possible moment he can close that gap, he's going to.

Maybe he just dreads the very thought that one of these days, they won't have this anymore.

But here he is- divided loyalties and all, that little black and white own emblazoned on his windbreaker- proud, imperious, property of Mox.

"Come off it- I'm the one who fucked off for a bit to get my head straight and came back with someone else's name on my collar. I don't want that hurting you, is all."

[niratias]

[antioceas]

"Oh, very Kurt and Ram. I like it." Who even know what he was talking about most of the time? Even Zaychik wasn't entirely sure. Chuckling quietly under their breath at his own joke, Zaychik went to work on preparing the scene.

At Josh'a direction, Zaychik swiftly nabbed the chair out from.the hallway - only after double checking no one was in fact around at the time. Once that was successfully positioned (sloppily as if fallen but in a realistic manner), Zaychik made sure the knots on the cord would hold strong. Just long enough to get the two of them up and out, while also making their story believable.

"What do you think? Art or not art? Should I be a set dresser for a horror movie or what?" If Zaychik had a mouth, they seriously needed to shut it.

[niratias]

"Art," Josh says, evidently not bothered by the chatter- because he knows it will end when they have to lock the fuck in and make a clean getaway.

One more sweep, one more check, and he's satisfied. He feels a bit bad for housekeeping, but he can't protect everyone- nor does he want to. Still- hopefully they're given ample time off...or better yet, consider a career change!

Josh briefly thinks about how many hotel rooms he's stayed in might be murder rooms, on that note...There was one not so long ago where they were doing extensive drywall repair and painting in the room at the end of the hall on his floor. The paint smell kept him up late and made him wake up with a headache.

He knows the results of a GSW when he sees 'em. The box spring in the hallway along with the headboard finished painting that picture nicely.

"Okay. Right out the back, same way we came." He's keeping the keycard. He'll shred it or melt it next feasible chance. For now, it's inconspicuous in his pocket. "Down the stairs this time. I'll go first, you follow?"

[dividedbybinaries]

>. ....Was he really offering to work with her?

It wasn't that the request to collaborate with others was rare. They came in frequently. But Binary never agreed to them at first breath. She didn't just say 'yes, let's go', without thoroughly thinking through the risks first.

And working together with a stranger was definitely a risk.

"...--Okay. Yeah. Sure."

The answer came out of her before she could even physically comprehend doing so. There was a moment, a recoil in her motions -- like she found herself physically repulsed by agreeing so quickly. But she had already made up her mind without realizing it.

This person, Mox, clearly had morals that aligned with hers. And the fact that he still stood there not only after witnessing her commit a brutal assault but also joining in meant he was prepared for anything thrown his way.

She'd be a fool not to utilize that.

"Just a fair warning. You don't try anything in there. The gun stays down. I might've committed a murder tonight, but I don't fuck with taking risks behind the wheel."

At least not again.

"--- You drive. Then we can talk."

Binary didn't even give the whimpering, bleeding predator a glance before she stepped over his body to get to the passenger side. It was a nice car, she'd give him that -- too bad it was going to get totaled in the Gotham scrapyard or driven to the outskirts into the nearest abandoned building.<

[niratias]

"You've got it." This isn't his home turf, which means Mox doesn't mind being ordered around when it serves a purpose. More than that, Binary is no Death Rider- and that's exactly why she has his interest. It takes someone from this city to really navigate its underbelly, to really know where the pressure points are and how the various nerves will fire when they're pressed. He'd be best-served by making some allies of the variety only a place like this can create...and it seems one's fallen into his path so easily there HAS to be a catch.

Maybe it's just the shared weight between them- things unspoken, things best left buried.

So he hits the fob to make sure all of the doors are unlocked. Figures they'll check the trunk and the glovebox before they do get rid of it, just in case there's anything else helpful or damning inside. He likes this- likes the plan. Simple. Classic. Not foolproof, but the exact kind of risk he'll choose to take over flashier ones, such as lighting the damn thing on fire. That's one way to get an audience.

They don't want that. Not right now.

So he drives. Follows her directions without a hitch.

No funny business.

"So." He only breaks his silence after they've been heading straight for a long while. Doesn't glance over, though. His eyes stay fixed on the road. "This your main bread and butter, or you target other types, too?"

[powertobite]

She hates the muzzle. Her biggest goal with Gabe is to get him to the point that he doesn't need to wear it, but that goal is lofty at best. When he's seated like this, she can see the light and see that it's possible. He could work. Even if there's a two percent chance Azin will follow it.

She didn't know if she wanted comfort from Gabe. She wanted to know she was safe; that would be comfort enough to her. When she was alone, her mind went to what type of relationship, what partnership they would have. In a perfect world, she wished she could make Gabe as happy as possible and that he would just know when to act. Like she could live her life knowing there was this mad dog behind her.

He mimics writing and she holds up her finger. "Oh, ok, one second." Going into the kitchen to one of the drawers that had been assigned the title of junk, she pulls out a smaller notebook and a ballpoint pen. She has no thoughts on this being a permanent thing. It can be cumbersome to carry around a notebook and pen; she'll allow Gabe to decide when they communicate.

[niratias]

Gabe blinks in thanks, accepts the offering, and scribbles, quickly, in a messy hand.

WON'T do this often so don't ask. Tell/show me what you want from me daily that isn't obvious. There's always something. Stresses me the fuck out to wonder so let's not waste time.

He holds it up, tapping the first line HARD several times. He passes the notepad and pen back. It might be wise to leave around just in case, but he seems to have made himself clear. He won't communicate like this more than he absolutely has to, but he doesn't want to wait and wonder about training, or about what she wants from him daily outside of the basics. New place, new space- and minimal idea of how to act. If the boundaries can be made perfectly clear, he won't have to worry and wonder that he's going to overstep. Living on edge will make him snappier.

He lived like that in that kennel, and it was an excuse to hurt him when he stepped out of line- usually in ways he didn't even know were a problem to begin with. So it goes.

But it does NOT have to here.

[piperafterdark]

She'd be lying if she said she didn't feel a sort of bubbly, giddiness flood her when the Thorton came to life seemingly by magic. Oh but she loved seeing the sorts of things other people could do, especially when they were working together. It was less fun when said augments were being used against her.

"I've got it." She's already popping the door open.

It feels rude to say aloud but she's pretty sure she's got a better mental map of the place than he does. Besides, if shit goes really south, it'll be easier for him to bail with the payload if he's not behind the wheel.

"We're gonna keep it nice and chill, head south towards Pacifica. If things cool off before we make it, awesome," she puts the car in reverse as soon as the doors are closed, having to fight her led foot all the way. "If not, then we'll wait down there for it to chill and just avoid starting trouble with the VDBs."

[niratias]

"I hate fucking with them," Doyle confesses, ducking into the passenger side. He doesn't buckle in, evidently trusting Piper to not get him killed with her driving. That, or kill him fast enough he doesn't feel it- either way! Radio Vexelstrom is buzzing quietly in the background. He leaves that be. Something to fill the quiet feels right, like a safety blanket.

The briefcase is held on his lap like a beloved pet, both of his hands resting on top of it like he's prepared to shelter it with his entire body if he has to.

"I've gotta be honest- my boss doesn't know I'm involved in this." He's got a husband to get home to. He doesn't particularly like Mox. But Josh? Josh vouches for Piper. That will have to be enough.

There's a Delamain involved in a nasty wreck not too far away, but it provides perfect cover from the police for a moment.

[wildwolfxstrangledwolf]

When the movie was over Darby switched it for the other and went back to the couch and stretched out his legs. His feet resting on Gabe's leg. He could probably lay in his head there instead but Gabe might get ideas. Or more ideas.

At one point he decided to go grab a drink and brought one for Gabe too as he returned to the way he'd been sitting earlier. "The idea is awesome but can't see that ever actually happening. Not that way anyway." He said about the training scene. "Those muscles would still have to be developed." That was the least reason things from this movie wouldn't work but still a reason.

[niratias]

The type of ideas Gabe would get could be of so many different varieties it's best not to push him if one doesn't want to face the full set of consequences that come with the decision. It's not like Darby actually invited him over, so there IS that risk, too. Gabe will let himself in when he pleases, and he might be smart enough to avoid a trap if it's not clever. He's not just a meathead, even though he is impulsive. ...And violent. ...And occasionally brash.

Okay. Sometimes he's a meathead, but he's a loyal, clever one all the same.

"He shouldn't even be walking when he's out of that tank," Gabe says, scoffing. "Last time I spent a while confined, I felt like shit in the gym for months! And that bastard's never been out of his little goop tube." He's enjoying the movie, though. Has clearly seen it before multiple times, the way he parrots off a famous quote or two here and there.

"I know people hated the other films...but I didn't."

[niratias]

@futuremyopia

[niratias]

Obsessed with this scam mail that came to my work office