[pennywise-fucker]

IT (2017)

[patriiciide]

Taking a drag off his cigarette as he walked, he almost laughed at the taller boy’s words. “Oh yeah, I’m in this for BLOOD. My knife’s just itchin’ to finish what it started.” he replied, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his switchblade- admiring it as he continued. “Can’t WAIT to see the look on that fat fuck’s face when I finish

carving my fucking name." He said, smirking as the look of excitement crossed his face. Those losers deserve it anyways- every last one of ‘em.

[infantiicide]

@patriiciide  liked this for a starter !

“I’m just sayin we can get him when we see ‘em next—no point of going to his place.” He nearly glares at the other, his thin shoulders lifting for a brief moment, “Doubt the trouble is worth it anyway. Chasin some kid down when we could be drinkin’ at the dump. Not excatly the summer I had in mind, YA KNOW?” Slightly he nudges the other, the corners of his lips curling in amusement. “You should lighten up, Henry.“

[patriiciide]

He exhaled, shrugging him off as he shook his head. He chuckled for a moment before glancing at the brunette.

"Oh, shut up asshole- we have all summer to do that. The kid's overdue for it and I've got the itch. I doubt the fucker is home anyways." he pauses to pull two cigarettes out of his pocket, handing one to Patrick and lighting his own before straying away from the road, walking through the trees. "BUT that's why we're going, ya see." He tugs at the straps of his backpack firmly, glancing over again. "Just to give him a little taste."

[patriiciide]

[infantiicide]

ＩＮＩＴＩＡＴＩＯＮ

[infantiicide]

The lanky brunette stands in front of Richie’s house, his head craning to the side to stare at Henry with half-lidded eyes. There’s a slight smile pulling at his lips, but his expression is flat. 

“You think this is gonna be good?” The male questions in almost a whisper, his tongue rolling across his lips before he slowly rubs them together, “Or a waste of time? Wonder if the little shit will do it.” His gaze returns to Richie’s house as he cracks his neck, his body weight shifting.

“I could go for not having to steal smokes daily–People are startin’ to catch on, y’know?”

Turn: @bowerisms

[patriiciide]

He had paused as Patrick began to speak, thinking to himself momentarily. He didn't even think the kid had the balls to stand next to the two of them, much less something like this. But here they were, staring at the kid's front porch.

Smirking, he shot a glance over at the taller brunette as he spoke- one hand stuffed in his pocket. "Yeah, I'm wonderin' the same thing. But that's my point, we can't be gettin caught for that shit. Which is why this is perfect for the brat to do." he replied quietly.

He looked back to the house briefly, before glancing back to the male beside him and pointing to the door. "Wonder if he's even gonna come out- or are we gonna have to make em'?" he shot back to the brunette softly, smirk playing on his lips as he glanced back towards the house and narrowed his eyes.

Turn: @starlightevening

[patriiciide]

As she spoke to him, he simply shook his head in silence as his gaze remained fixed on the window. "Tch. Do I? Last I checked, it's a free country." he mumbled smugly as she walked away briefly. To his surprise, she brought back a mug and set it down in front of him. As she spoke again, he chuckled and glanced at the mug being slid towards him. Gripping it lightly, he looked up at her, a slightly amused look on his face. 

As she jeered about the broom, he chuckled again- weight lifted off the hand holding his head, only to use it to reach into his pocket for his wallet. He tossed down eight singles on her end of the counter, flipping his wallet closed and shoving it back into his pocket. "There. The broom, this drink, and your company. Now I'm a payin' customer, sweetheart. How about that?" he said, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth as he picked up the mug and sipped the hot chocolate gingerly. Truthfully- he just didn't wanna go home. Sure, he could go to the diner. But where was the fun in that?

He walked away from the counter, mug in hand as he looked around the interior of the shop. His eyes drifted across the empty tables as he spoke. "I don't really owe you an explanation. You're the one who interrupted me yesterday. But if ya' really gotta know- I just had to get out, alright?"

[pennywise-fucker]

IT (2017)

[patriiciide]

He nodded as she spoke, raising an eyebrow at her. So it was her. The cops were acting like she was just another missing kid, but he remembered the stories he'd heard about her.  Butch brought home the reports to look them over- whenever it had to do with missing kids, he did actually give a damn. Seeing her report made looking through them more intriguing when he came across them, but he didn't dare say anything- not yet. 

Listening to her reaction to his question, his smirk pulled slightly wider. "Wow, for once..." he cut himself off as he snickered and shook his head. "Good to know you're the one thinkin' about that." he replied briefly as he winked, watching her gaze as it lingered on the bottle- although it almost looked like she was looking past it. His smirk faded for a moment, thinking to himself and humming quietly. Maybe tonight is about to be more interesting than he thought.

"Well now, if that's the case- ya' know there's civilization up there. Especially if you've been gettin' lost back here." he teased, turning to look at the path he had just come down. He took one more hit off his cigarette before flicking it into the dirt, looking back to her over his shoulder to reveal another smirk across his lips. "We can smoke out the attic of the barn if you want, plus I've got a little more booze up there. Butch won't be back until early morning- unless ya' can't trust me enough."

[honeybottledrip]

i get these violent urges and moods where i just want to fight and bleed it’s like an ache in my chest

[patriiciide]

His eyes looked up to Patrick as he approached, looking him over for a moment before picking him up and carrying him downstairs. As he was laid on the bed and covered up, he shifted slightly- the partially-frozen clothing sitting awkwardly against him. His whole body began to defrost, that familiar feeling of pins and needles beginning in his hands and legs. He watched Patrick pace momentarily before his eyes drifted to the wall, a slow exhale leaving his lips. He’s pissed.

As Patrick spoke and he heard his mother give him the bucket, he looked over as the cloth was placed on his head. He inhaled sharply, reveling in the feeling although it felt a bit too warm- he blamed the cold for that. Until Patrick wrapped the washcloths around his feet. He hissed, retracting them as he closed his eyes tightly. He knew the bottoms of his feet were probably torn up, but that hot water felt like it just singed his skin off. Opening one eye slightly, he turned to Patrick as he inhaled sharply. 

"Fuck... I feel like you're takin' my damn feet off with that water." he hissed, attempting to shrug the rags off his feet. He knew Patrick's mom seemed to mean well, but god damn the woman was dense as fuck. Did she even know what to do if her own kid had hypothermia or frostbite- probably not.  He kicked the rags off his feet, moving to try to sit up but only to hiss sharply and grip his shoulder, a sharp pain radiating down his arm. He then punched the mattress with his good arm, muttering various obscenities and huffing angrily- opting to just lay there and direct his defeated glare to the ceiling. He could feel his eyes stinging, the pins and needles feeling still coursing through his body as he spoke dryly. "Some dry clothes and somethin' warm to drink... and cooler water..."

[patriiciide]

He was pulled into her house, wincing as he stepped onto a warm floor. His gaze was on the ground in front of her as she spoke, leaving the room to grab him socks. He winced again as he tried to shrug to stretch out, already feeling a pain in his shoulder. Everything was so numb, he almost forgot what happened- and if it felt like this now while it’s numb, god knows what it’s going to feel like tomorrow. As she returned, he locked eyes with her as she held the pair out to him and spoke somewhat awkwardly. Shuddering as he rubbed his arms, he reached a slightly shaky hand out and grabbed them. "Yeah, thanks- but I- uh. I think my feet are pretty cut up and uh... Can I just use your shower?" he asked quietly, his gaze dropping back to the floor, focusing on his feet which are becoming extremely painful to even stand on.

"It'll be easier to warm up- but I also just... need a minute." he trailed off, exhaling heavily as he flexed his fingers on his free hand. God, he didn't realize that defrosting would be this painful. He rubbed his arms again, letting out another exhale before looking back up to her. "If your dad has anything I can wear besides this soaked shirt and partially frozen pair of jeans too, I will be the most grateful person you've ever fucking seen."

[patriiciide]

His eyes narrowed as Butch dismissed the accusation, tightening his lips into a straight face- he could only listen to his father talk. He knew if he said something now, it would push him too far. Butch mentioned him running off with her- yeah, he'd thought about that too. But she left him there- not giving him a choice, probably for the same reason he resented Henry. As Butch said his final piece and walked out, he felt like he could breathe again. 

He groaned slightly, trying not to use his injured arm as he picked himself up off the floor. Now standing, he disregarded his room and walked to the doorway, pausing to double back for his first aid kit he’d made for himself a while ago. He peeked around the corner, making sure Butch wasn't in sight before making his way to the bathroom quietly. Locking himself in, he just looked down at his arm for a moment- almost amused. God, he could really use that drink now.

Digging through cabinets and drawers, he seated himself on the edge of the tub facing inwards and sighed roughly. Pulling the small garbage can over, he set some rubbing alcohol, gauze, tweezers, and an ace wrap down with the first aid kit on the edge of the tub with him. He removed his shirt, folding it a few times before shoving part of it into his mouth to bite down on. Like a really shitty band-aid. Although this was the last thing he wanted to do, considering it had never been this bad- but what else was there to do? 

He reached down, brows furrowed as he grabbed the first piece of glass. He exhaled slowly as he pulled, removing the shard and tossing it into the trash. He watched the blood flow out of it, sighing and blinking slowly. He grabbed another piece, pulling before hissing and letting go of it. It was only about halfway out and already the blood flow was substantial. Dripping off his arm, the blood made an almost rhythmic beat as drops hit the inside of the tub. He ground his teeth against the shirt, glancing to the first aid kit. Good thing he left his needle and thread in there, because looks like he's gonna need 'em tonight.

[bug-and-such-deactivated2026030]

Belch: You like being in the front seat?

Henry: Yeah.

Belch: [makes a sudden stop]

Henry: [hits face against glove compartment]

[lydsstilinskii]

[richcrowned-deactivated20180115]

@bowerisms;; s.c.

“Yeah, I trust you.” Blindly following Henry Bowers was never a dull idea so here he was, standing beside him with hands shoved into his pockets. “Can I know what we’re doing now or are you going to keep me in anticipation?”

[patriiciide]

He snickered, thumb trailing along his lip as the corner of his mouth pulled into a very small smirk. He'd had this planned for a while, but was just waiting for an excuse to take someone along so he didn't feel like a total loser.

"Alright, you want me to spoil it?  You know that film The Dark Crystal or whatever? Heard it was pretty good but never saw it. Don’t know if you did... but they brought it back to the theater, so I ain't missing it again." He knew Peter might jeer at him for wanting to see the fantasy movie, but he couldn't give any fucks less. Glancing up at Peter- his smirk got slightly wider as he thought to himself briefly.

"If you don't wanna see that, I think Poltergeist is there too." he said before he shrugged and looked at the ground, stuffing his hands in his pockets and rolling his eyes as he continued. "There's always the option of parkin' our asses on Kansas street and waiting for one of those fuckin' Losers to roll across our path. But they've been good at avoiding us lately- and it's pissin' me off. So I figured why the hell not?"

[patriiciide]

"Wow, a little defensive?" he began, stepping a little closer as she continued for a bit. His eyes narrowed, looking her up and down a bit as he took in what she said. He hit his cigarette, smirking as his gaze lingered on her face. She looked familiar, but he couldn't quite place where he knew her from yet. He shook his head, scoffing at her. 

"Calm down, eh? Why the hell you wandering around the woods for a few days? Back here, too. It's like you fucking wanted my dad to find you." he spoke, digging his boot into the dirt slightly as he glanced at the ground before looking back to her. How long has she been coming back here. Is that why the trail is so worn?

"You're lucky. He just left for the night. You honestly think I fucking want him to come back?" he chuckled as he began, motioning to his cigarette briefly as he rolled it in his fingers. "Besides, not like I can't handle shit 'round here myself. Do it all the time anyway..." he mumbled, kicking some more dirt before glancing back at her. "... which brings me back to you. Look, I'll let you stick around- as long as you have something to offer." he said, smirk pulling at his lips as he brandished his half bottle of cheap liquor to show her- although his tone was slightly ambiguous as he spoke. "Unless you got other plans?"

[bullytm-a-deactivated20191003]

                          And something else: that other look he had seen on Henry’s face,                          the tired bewildered look of a badly used child who had been set                         on a poisonous path for some unknown purpose. Henry had grown                         up within the contaminated radius of Butch Bower’s mind; surely he                                    had belong to It even before he suspected It existed.  Henry Bowers RP  Hated by Charlie  Novel and 2017       film based