One, two, Owen's coming for you.

[owenscroop]

morganpooley:

                    —-”Hm.”

Morgan downed her wine, setting the glass in the counter, She turned to the cupboard and pulled out a glass before turning back and fishing through the contents of the bar. Soon, her hands fall on a familiar bottle, and she pulls it onto the counter, revealing a bottle of Belvedere vodka. Morgan turned to the freezer and pulled out three ice cubes before pouring straight vodka over them and, in true Morgan fashion, drinking it straight.

                    —–”Right, better. Well, I suppose I’ll keep it simple: our parents were murdered together, while we were in the house, when we were children. I’m sure you can guess who the proponent of such an action was, as you know his name is forbidden under this roof. And, I suppose, I was raised wealthy, and that leads me to often be a frigid bitch – one of my high school nicknames.” 

Morgan took another gulp of the drink, cracking her neck from the tension, feeling a chill run down her spine. 

                   —-”Would you like to hear more?” 

Owen stared at her, unable to find words. He guessed the two of them weren’t very different, after all. Of course his father was to blame for his shortcomings as a child. Abusive alcoholic who ended up killing his mother and then himself. He had years of pent up aggression towards that, but for Morgan and William to physically see their parents killer in public on an almost daily basis must have been rough. He tipped the rest of his drink back, reaching over to grab the bottle she had just pulled out. He was more of a dark liquor kind of guy, but it seemed tonight he needed a little more. He followed her actions, pouring it straight into his glass. 

“Fuck.” He finally said, not sure if he was referring to the sting of the alcohol or from her rough past. Their rough past. He took another swig, and set his glass down, almost missing the coaster completely. “Well.” He started, his mind was beginning to cloud. “Shit happens, ya know? Shit happens, life sucks, then ya die. But...” There it was, it was really starting to hit him. He closed his eyes tightly, opening them again to try and focus on the bar backsplash. 

[owenscroop]

ryechosis:

► owenscroop:

Rye looked at him, feeling like she was going to be sick for a moment. ❝Yeah… just band-aids…❞ The words were surprising even to herself, knowing well she’d never pass up an opportunity to cause trouble, to get the adrenaline rush, but instead she felt… not so good. ❝I’m always pale.❞

She swallowed, nodding along with him, before beginning to walk towards Morgan’s home. ❝It fucking hurts, Scroops.❞ She muttered even as she walked, covering the cut with her opposite hand to try and stop the bleeding. ❝But I’ll live. I always do.❞

Owen furrowed his brows, and turned to place his arm back around the wild haired girl. “Come on, come on.” He started to head back to his homestead, knowing Morgan had something that could patch her up. When he first discovered his powers, it was a bloody shit show. He still had scars that covered his body, the first time he found out about his blades he nearly sliced himself to shreds. He had never experienced something as terrified. “I’ll take care of you, no worries.” He murmured to her, “I took care of that prick. I should have stepped in sooner.” He admitted, chewing on the inside of his cheek. 

[owenscroop]

ryechosis:

► owenscroop:

Rye forced her breathing to try and return to a steady rhythm and eyed him with a furrowed brow. Rye smirked, but felt her heart race inside of her chest. ❝Yeah, like she’d send her other trouble maker out to finish the job.❞ Of course she would. She forced a humorous tone into her voice, but even so, her words faltered as she began to walk past him into the light. 

❝I have one more day or she’s going to turn me into a fucking fish, Scroops…❞ She turned back to him, keeping her eyes on those arms that she’d always admired. Her voice lowered, knowing that her confident facade was hardly as convincing as usual. ❝Can you just… you know, either make it quick or make it messy…❞

Owen didn’t let his facade falter, even though he could tell that Rye found some truth in the lies he spoke. That made him wonder if she truly believed that he would hurt her? Would Morgan hurt her? Hurt him? After witnessing what he had previously, he was beginning to have his doubts. Still, Morgan Pooley was his home now, and he would have to trust her. Even if it meant death for him one day. He slowly cleared his throat, and allowed himself to reemerge from the shadows. He watched as her eyes fell on his arms, a twinge of guilt snaked its way up his spine. 

He closed the gap between them, gripping her waist tightly. He inched down until his lips were barely pressed to her ear. “I’ll make it quick, sweet heart. Morgan sends her regards.” He whispered sweetly, pulling her closer to him. He slowly slid the blade from his free hand down, the silver shining in the moonlight. He held it up to her cheek, pressing it down for a moment, before quickly retracting it. He pecked her on the cheek, and backed up, shoving his hands in his pockets. 

“I’m kidding. Let me walk you home, I’ve been waiting for an hour.” He said nonchalantly. 

[owenscroop]

slicktalking:

HOLY FUUUUUCKING SHIT– this kid looked like he was out for blood. Who was Hayden to deny the kid a good fucking fight? Yet, that wasn’t what had him ANNOYED. The kid wanted to show his sharp edges, but doesn’t do more? Not on Hyden’s fucking watch.

                 He’s on the move to approach this little shit.

          “Wow…” he spoke softly and took a sip from his glass. “That has got to be the saddest fucking story I’ve ever heard in my life,” he’s being sarcastic. “Well don’t be a PUSSY– you’ve come this far kid,” he spoke with expectations now.

He talks big because he’s HARDLY ever alone. His people mingle among the crowd; SEAMLESS. 

Owen raised both of his eyebrows when Hayden started to talk to him. When he called him a pussy, he could feel his blood begin to boil. If only he knew the things he could do to that man, without hesitation. Slash him limb from limb in just a moment. Slice a nice incision right under his belly button and watch his innards pour from his body, intestines, blood, alcohol combined until he was a lifeless corpse on the ground. But, Owen had to refrain. Stalking him was one thing, but taking his life would mean ending his own. This was a hard pill he had to swallow everytime he came face to face with the man. 

He politely set his drink down, and pressed his lips into a fine line. He was no kid, he was no pussy, he was something Hayden would regret toying with...One day. “Seems like you’re a little drunk, old man. No one said a word to you.” The words came hissing from his mouth. “I only ordered a drink.” 

[owenscroop]

ryechosis:

► owenscroop:

Rye stopped along side, him. She felt herself inhale sharply as he barely caressed the wound. Then, a more intense wave of pain rushed through her. She could feel her brain go dizzy for a moment at the pain, her other arm reaching out to grab his shoulder for support. ❝It is… fine.❞ She swallowed, her voice becoming even stiffer as he pressed again. Her breathing was shallow before she let out a small hum of pain, breaking eye contact with him. 

❝I just need a little band-aid… That’s all. It’s probably not so bad under the blood.❞ She swallowed, reaching over to the arm pressing against the would. Her hand landed gently on his forearm hoping that he would drop the issues.

Owen instantly went rigid as he saw Rye’s response to his touch. He furrowed his brows, feeling a bit of worry well up in the pit of his stomach. “Hey, don’t lie to me.” He mumbled, placing his other hand under chin. He slowly tilted her head up as she placed her hand on his forearm. “You’re pale as a ghost, ya know.” He slowly removed his hand from her wound, and smirked. “I got some bandaids at Morgan’s, or we could rob a corner store.” The thought of more trouble made his body buzz more, but he wasn’t sure his counter part would be up for that. Not only did he need to make sure she was okay, they probably needed to avoid any more headlines. 

[owenscroop]

morganpooley:

Morgan watched as Owen poured himself another glass, finding a small amount of admiration for their shared coping mechanism. At his question, the witch quirked a brow and shifted her weight from one foot to the next, pondering silently how to answer.

                    —–”Hmm. Do you mean powered? If so, I gained my abilities just like everyone else. But…if you mean the way that I am, that’s a longer story…though it also has an explanation.”

Owen took another gulp, and shook his head. No, he knew how she gained her powers, the same way that he had his. Why they all got the powers they did, he had no clue. Everyone he encountered had different powers, Morgans powers reminded him of a witch, and he had over heard William speak about how he could open the gates of hell. And then there was Rye, with her beautiful twisted mind games. Everyone was so different, and he didn’t really get why. It must have something to do with individual DNA. “I meant....The way you are. You, and William. You guys seem so rigid. I dunno.” He shrugged, wondering if he was over stepping boundaries.

[owenscroop]

ryechosis:

► CLOSEDSTARTER || @owenscroop

Rye hadn’t had the best set. Her vocals were there, but she looked very much off. Curls that were generally out of place seemed even more so and her face was pale. She only had one more day to find another powered person. Zipping up her hoodie over her second-hand sequined gown, Rye walked out of the back door. Now, each time she left, she felt herself tensing up as if she would immediately sprout gills when her shoe touched the pavement. So, it was not entirely odd when the sight of Owen standing quietly in the shadows, caused her to jump backwards, hand tightening on her shoulder bag. ❝Oh shit, Owen. I thought you were Morgan… I know I have one more day… Wait, she didn’t send you to kill me did she?❞

Owen waited outside the Papillon, leaning against the brick wall. He had just stomped out his cigarette, and was now looking impatiently at his watch. Rye was due to walk through those back doors at any moment, but something was keeping her. He let out a sigh, reaching into his pocket to pull out another cigarette. As soon as he lit it, there she was. Wild mess of curls looking..messier than normal. He took a step out of the shadows and noticed the girl nearly jump out of her skin. “Hey butterbread.” He said slowly, raising an eyebrow. When he heard her muttered the words about Morgan, and if he had been sent there to kill her, he thought he’d play a little game. 

He took another long drag from his cigarette, before crushing it with the hell of his boot. He leaned back in the shadows, only his mouth could be seen, his lips twisted into a grin she had seen before. “Well..Speaking of that...” He let out a long exaggerated sigh. “I’m sorry it has to come down to this, but ya let our ol’ lady down.” 

[owenscroop]

slicktalking:

                      Would you take a look at would the cat dragged in. Hayden Masters,  and is  anyone  really surprised he’s sitting at the bar? In his glass is honey whiskey.      The company he just had earlier? They left and if your character is curious they should ask him what happened. 

However, he doesn’t seem bothered to have lost his company. Not with how he’s chatting up the bartender and bantering. 

“It’s good to be back home,” he chuckled to himself and picked up the glass. He seems to be having a well enough night.   His skin is tan, maybe he went on a trip?

OPTIONAL ADDITIONAL DIALOG: After sharing a few jokes with the bartender, he takes notice of your character. “Oi– why don’t you have a seat over here. You’re lookin’ lonely all by your lonesome. I’ll get you a drink to pick up that lip.”

Owen walked into The Runway, his hands shoved deep into his leather jacket. He had a feeling someone he was looking for would be there, and after gazing over the crowd for a short period of time he saw him. Since the little incident a few months ago, when Owen followed out orders given by Morgan and William, he wanted to keep a close eye on Hayden. Even if the other two spoke against it. There was something about the man that Owen didn’t like. His arrogance reminded him of his own father. 

Owen slowly closed the distance between him and the crime scum. He slid onto a barstool, held two fingers up signaling the bartender who left Hayden unattended, and Owen ordered a shot of Jack and his usual Jim Jones. He turned his attention back to Hayden, before tipping the shot back. He slid the bartender a ten, grabbing his drink, watching as the bartender walked back over to Hayden. He didn’t say a single word. 

[owenscroop]

shadysage:

► owenscroop:

She began to run through her mind ways that she could possibly find more, how she could earn more money. She knew well that she could not steal from Hades, not again. That is, unless she wanted to end up in a ditch somewhere. The situation felt all around hopeless. Feeling anger boiling inside of her as the boy began to walk away, Sage quickly pulled the shadow of a street sign from the ground, just enough to try and trip him.

Owen threw his head back, laughing. “Silly, silly girl.” He clucked, turning around and spreading his arms out in a mocking manner. “Your little tricks are gunna have to be quicker than that.” He felt the atmosphere around him change, but what she tried to do he wasn’t exactly sure. All he knew was that electric feel was common among those with..tweaked DNA. “Have fun explaining this one to your boss.” He saluted her quickly, turned on his heels, and dashed to his hiding place. 

[owenscroop]

ryechosis:

► owenscroop:

Rye quickly pulled back as Owen approached, knowing better than to take anything from his fun. Quickly moving after him with a smile upon her face, she was certain to make sure that they weren’t being followed and quickly moved a cement block in front of the outward-opening door just in case. Rye marveled at the way the blades extended from his arms, eyes moving between the blade and his face, not wanting to miss any part of the act. Rye moved closer to the man, keeping her eyes locked on his, taking in every moment of his fear and agony before moving to watch the contrasting expression of the man in control.

At the sudden movement, Rye felt her brows raise upward and her teeth bit down on her lower lip, barely able to contain herself at the sight. Something darkened behind her eyes and Rye felt herself feeling rather glad that her ability had managed to wear off of the man. How appropriate that his final trauma be one based in reality. Once the limp mass had been allowed to fall with finality to the sidewalk, she looked upon Owen with unrestrained admiration. 

She allowed him to wrap his arm around her and quickly took his hand, kissing his fingers before licking the blood from her own lips. She could feel the warm blood soaking through her own clothes before realizing that some of it was her own, flowing from her shoulder. Her eyes furrowed in confusion as if forgetting that she could be harm, as if forgetting what pain felt like. Ignoring it, she looked back to him and grinned. ❝You look so lovely coated in red.❞

Owen smirked as he watched Rye kiss his fingers. “And you’re ravishing in the moonlight.” His heart was hammering inside his chest, he was sure she could feel his own pulse just by standing next to him. He continued to lead her down the dark lit path, eventually ending up on the sidewalk to main street. He looked down at her in the mix of the street lights and the moon, and then remembered her shoulder. He stopped quickly, his long pale finger tracing her cut.

He furrowed his brows, and paused, pressing harder on her wound. He wasn’t intending to hurt her more, just see what the severity of the cut was. If it was just a flesh wound he could fix her with super glue and time, but if it was deeper well that would call for some extra help.

He fought the urge to stick his finger in the wound, instead just applied a little more pressure, looking straight into Rye’s eyes. “You gunna make it?” He questioned, quirking a brow.

[owenscroop]

morganpooley:

A sense of small apprehension washed over Morgan at the sight of the quivering boy. Her scowl turned into a tautly pressed set of lips, and a sigh escaped them. “But you are not just here to do my bidding. You are here because you need it – the shelter, the food, the belonging…I understand.” She moved closer to him, her voice soft now. “I just need to make sure you don’t incriminate yourself in any way, or else I fail on my end.”

Morgan opened up the portal back to the basement of her estate, walking past him to enter through it. She lifted the glass of wine to her lips, finishing off the rest. She reached for the bottle of red and began refilling her glass, already feeling the heat of the alcohol seep through her before turning around and seeing if Owen had followed her through.

Owen nodded his head slowly, watching her expression carefully. She was right. He was there because he needed it. He needed the help, and he would be an idiot to throw all of this away. Before their generosity he had nothing, nothing but an old abandoned apartment his parents plagued with their memory. “I’m going to work on it.” He admitted, looking at Morgan through his curly blonde hair.

As soon as the portal opened and the basement was in his sight, he quickly walked over to his barstool. He poured himself another whiskey straight, and stared at the amber liquid. They drank in silence, until Owen decided to break it. “How did you end up this way.” He questioned softly, his mind still playing back what he had seen.

[owenscroop]

wesmonds:

Wes watches as the boy takes the seat across from him. It looks like his studying is going to have to wait ( for now ). He’s unimpressed by the brown-eyed boy’s comment ( he’s not the first person to make that assumption ) and remains silent as he watches the boy across from him shuffle his papers.

He’s not big on random people touching his things, and he’s sure his face gives that away, but he gives no other reaction except for the sigh that escapes his lips. He’ll go along for now with whatever game this guy is playing, but his patience is already slipping.

❝ It’s Wes. Is there something I can H E L P you with ? ❞

Owen chuckles at Wes’ response, the guy still didn’t have a clue who he was dealing with. But Owen decided he would let this one slide, and just try and figure out what this guy was about. It was obvious he was smart, so maybe he would be of some use to Morgan. Owen put the boys papers down, and stuck his hand out. “Name’s Owen. Owen Scroop.” He said simply. “I was just interested in what you were studying.” 

[owenscroop]

morganpooley:

Morgan could sense the young man following her through the portal and felt her heart skip a beat at the nostalgia of the surrounding area. It had once been the location of her favorite childhood retreat – her family’s Canadian lake house. That is, before she went crazy and destroyed it. “Do you see all this destruction?” she said after taking a moment to quietly survey the rubble and what had grown between it. “This…is mine.” She turned to face Owen, her expression stoic. “This was my favorite place to go as a child, and one of the only places I could ever truly be alone with myself….before I tore it apart with my magic.” She paused and sighed, looking down at her shoes with guilt. “You see, Owen,” her eyes met his once again, “I didn’t have a reason to do this; I simply needed a way to vent out my frustrations. I could feel every single brick…every inch of wood scrape against each other, burn, die, and crumble as I found new and intoxicating ways to kill. I went insane, and I didn’t let myself feel any sense of control. I screamed and wept and laughed…all the while, forgetting that I was tarnishing every good memory I had made in my life. This place was my heart Every happy photo of my murdered parents was stored away here because I couldn’t bear to even glance at their image once they were taken from me. Every scrapbook, every small thing that held true importance was stowed away in the cupboards and the floorboards. Do you see any cupboards or floorboards, Owen?” Morgan could feel heat rising to her cheeks, her veins pulsing with electric magic. Her eyes rolled back and turned white, and suddenly a projection of herself appeared before them – blue and white and opaque; clearly a memory. The memory-Morgan’s mouth was wide with an exclamation, her arms outstretched as jets of energy shot from every fingertip. Around her flew pieces of rubble, the image of them dissolving into the pieces that lay on the ground before them in reality – a perfect match. The Morgan in the image was not the Morgan many had known. She was crazed, hungry for physical power, destroying everything in her path. The projection was horrifying, like a scene out of a psychological thriller, made specifically to burn the fear straight out of you. The image Morgan slumped over and fainted, and the projection ceased. The real Morgan also slumped over, though her magic was now stronger – like a muscle that had been exercised over time. With a deep breath, she looked at Owen and resumed her stoic expression. When she spoke, it was with daggers in her breath and muted fury on her tongue. “Find a reason for everything you do, or I will strip you bare like the walls of my heart.

Owen stepped into the middle of rubble, and looked around. Everything around him was destroyed, not a single wall left standing. He wasn’t sure where she had brought him, or why. That was, at least, until she began to speak. He listened to her carefully, all the while his eyes scanned the ruins. He couldn’t believe that she had done this, everything around him destroyed by her own hand. This made a chill rise up his spine, unsure of what to make of all this. 

He felt the ground vibrate slightly as Morgan began to project a memory of her past self before him. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing, or why she was showing him this. He stared at the projection, his eyes wide and his face slowly turning white. He had seen a lot in his life time. A lot of death, a lot of hate, a lot of misery, but he had never seen something so powerful, something so...demonic. The power that surged through her in the imagery made Owen want to cower, a feeling he had never truly felt before. 

This experience definitely put him in his place, and when the projection was over, and Morgan stared through his soul, he could only find his mouth open wide, no words coming out. He quickly took a deep breath, closing his mouth, and nodded his head. “I..I got it.” He said quietly, looking down at his feet in the rubble. “..I’ll..What you...Only on orders.” He mumbled, shoving his hands into his pockets, the hairs on his body still standing straight up. 

[owenscroop]

ryechosis:

► owenscroop:

Rye stopped with her feet shoulder width apart, her eyes scanned the man. He was large, confident, intimidating… She couldn’t wait to change all of that. Rye leaned into him, listening carefully to the instructions before pulling back to look at him. Giving a quick peck to his cheek, she walked towards the man without looking back. Oh, how she loved being watched.As she passed a table, she swiftly took a glass of water as the owner of said water was distracted. Approaching the man, she managed to trip by stepping on her dress, ripping it just a bit more so that the top of her thigh was exposed. In the same movement, she managed to spill the water over her front. ❝Oh shit… My dress… I’m soaked…❞ She was certain to allow her leg to poke out from the dress enough while keeping her voice at a level that drew his attention.

As soon as he so graciously offered to help her, Rye winked over her shoulder at Owen, biting her lip as the man led her to the empty hallway to the restrooms where he stopped and pulled out a handkerchief. Classy. ❝Come here often?❞ She smirked as the man moved to dab at her chest with the cloth. Every night, but I’ve never seen anyone like you. He leaned into her and she moved to whisper into his ear. ❝And you never will…❞Rye moved to graze his cheek before allowing her hand to slide beneath his collar, landing on his shoulder. The man looked at Rye, seeing holes where her eyes should be, blood flowing down from the empty spaces until the blood formed into bright red scorpions. He saw them crawling down her face and started screaming as one crawled into her mouth and out of her ear. He moved away, but she managed to grab his arm, holding on tight. 

The scorpions began a slow and quiet whisper, but their volume and speed rose quickly before they started jumping from Rye onto the mans shoulders and face. He could see Rye’s neck stretch up into an unnatural stated, her skin turned grey and began to rot from her skeleton as a scorpion crawled over his eye. He could hear it whispering his name, telling him he was going to die, he could feel it’s legs scratching across his skin even as he screamed and continued trying to pull from the blonde.The man then reached into his pocket, frantically grabbing a knife which he attempted to use in order to kill the scorpion on his face. Rye watched in delight as the blade slid into his opened eye, slicing the membrane and spewing forth blood over his face and neck. The man’s cries of fear turned into screams of agony and others in the bar began to look in concern at the scene as the man swung his knife at Rye, cutting the skin of her shoulder. Quickly pulling back from him, Rye grabbed the hand wielding the knife, her bright expression quickly turning to one of malice as she caused him to feel as if flames were surrounding him. He dropped the knife, thinking that the hand had grown hot and reached around to pull the fire alarm as Rye looked over to Owen, knowing well that it was likely his turn.

Owen watched from across the bar as she sauntered over to the man. His eyes were glued to her, watching as she managed to rip her dress even more. “Classic.” He mumbled, starting to close the space between them. He stopped at a round table that was a few feet from them, and grabbed an unattended drink. He sipped on it slowly, still watching them. He marveled at the fact that every person that was in the bar had no idea what was happening, or what was about to happen. 

He saw Rye wink at him, and he gave her a sly grin. That’s my girl, he thought, watching as she led the unsuspecting man down a hallway. Owen followed behind, keeping himself at a distance that he wouldn’t be noticed. He leaned against the wall, pulling his phone out of his pocket pretending to be occupied. No body else was traveling the hall, it was just the three of them. He looked up and watched as Rye began her little show. The man leaned into her, a little to close for his comfort, but soon he noticed things were changing. From an outsiders perspective, Rye looked completely normal, the man, however, was beginning to panic. His screams grew louder, and that’s when Owen saw the knife. 

Quickly he started towards them, but he didn’t get there fast enough. The man had taken the knife and pierced Rye’s skin. This made his own blood begin to boil. Adrenalin started coursing through his veins, before the man was able to pull the fire alarm Owen had him slammed against the wall. “Wrong move, bub.” He hissed through clenched teeth. The man furrowed his brows, still yelling, and tried to wrap his hands around Owen’s neck. 

Owen clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “Think again.” Before the man could make another move, Owen had his arm twisted behind his back, forcing him out the back exit. He turned his head, giving Rye a hurry up glance, and disappeared into an ally way. Not a soul was out back as he shoved the man to the ground. He slowly let his blade slide out, the steel slicing through his skin with a loud rip. It didn’t hurt anymore, just sent a discomforting feeling through his body. 

He pressed the blade into the mans back, smiling as the man began to scream in pain. When he heard the door slam, and saw Rye watching him, he bent over to grab the man’s shoulder. With his blade still pressed firmly into the mans back, Owen lifted him slowly. The screams intensified, and Owen let out a strangled laugh. He then jerked the man back, the blade going completely through his body. Blood shot out of the man’s mouth, staining the brick wall in front of him. Tears were pouring out of his eyes, gasping and screaming and bleeding Owen lifted the blade, cutting right along his spinal cord. 

When the screaming had stopped, the body now limp against his, Owen placed his foot on the man’s back, giving him a quick kick. Blood pooled around his body as Owen retracted his blade. He smeared the blood that was running down his own hands on his shirt, and walked over to Rye. He wrapped his bloodied arm around her waste, pulling her down the ally. Adrenalin was coursing through his veins, his body humming with excitement. This was the thrill he lived off of, and knowing he had a partner in crime made it all that much sweeter. 

[owenscroop]

shadysage:

► owenscroop:

Sage tensed as he put his arm around her shoulders, feeling the pain in her arm from his grip while biting back a protest. Once they were far enough away, she jerked from him, distancing herself a few feet. ❝Honestly? Because I can’t afford more for another week or so at least, and you can’t just up and stop that shit.❞ It might not come with the same physical withdrawal symptoms as other things, but it would still be hell with the way she’d been using it and she always got clumsy without it. ❝Plus, I work nights. It helps me stay up longer.❞

Owen let out a sarcastic laugh, rolling his eyes. “All this because you can’t afford to buy more snow? Alright seems legit.” He was growing tired of this, growing tired of talking to her, and growing tired of being someone who worked for scum of the earth. “I really have no pitty for you, sweet pea. Go buy some adder- oh wait. Guess you can’t. Better learn a more effective sleep pattern, because you’re not getting this back.” He reached in his pocket and pulled the baggy out, waving it in her face and then quickly shoving it back. He turned around once more, and began to head towards the manor. 

[owenscroop]

ryechosis:

► owenscroop:

Rye downed both shots, one in each hand before throwing the glasses behind her, allowing them to land wherever, not that the bartender would have noticed as he’d already moved on to another group of patrons. Rye’s own gaze moved about the room, trying to decipher the relationships that the customers seemed to have with each other, never quite understanding how their minds worked. At the sound from Owen, Rye followed his gaze, leaning her head into his lips to hear what he had to say. Turning, she moved to whisper back to him. ❝Of course, but know now that I intend to cheat.❞

“I expected nothing less.” Owen replied, grabbing her hand and shoving his way through the crowd. They were now parallel with the man he pointed out, he was racking his brain for his next move. He wanted to toy with the man for a while, but he knew end game would be taking the mans life. He wrapped his arm snugly around Rye, getting close so she could hear him through the music. “I want you to get him alone somehow, and have a bit of fun. I’ll watch the entire time until it’s my turn.” He wanted to watch the girl in action, see what bizarre antics she would come up with.  

[owenscroop]

morganpooley:

Morgan listened intently to the boy and watched his expression fall. She could understand the craving for destruction – after gaining her powers, she destroyed the entirety of her outhouse and cottage, waking up in the rubble feeling sore and complete. It was intoxicating, and she longed for the madness she often kept suppressed. In fact… Morgan stepped backward and pointed her hand at the wall. As she turned her hand, a portal opened up, revealing a mirror image of night-black rubble. Still holding her glass of wine, she began to walk – barefoot – through it. “Follow.”

Owen blinked a few times, and watched as she moved backward. He watched as she pointed towards the wall, and as a portal opened. He knitted his brows together tightly, blinking a few more times to make sure what he was seeing was real. He slammed the rest of his drink back, before getting up off of the bar stool. He slowly walked forward, noting how casual Morgan looked clutching her wine glass. “Okay...” He mumbled, following behind her. He wasn’t sure what was about to happen, but he knew when to listen.