Brandi Carlile, “Raise Hell”.

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Claire Keane
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@priscillapierce
Brandi Carlile, “Raise Hell”.
can i be honest with you? i am bad fucking news. i’m not your friend. i’m not gonna help you. i’m gonna b r e a k you.
any questions?
the moon can’t be a star, it only knows how to shine through false light, but the sun shivered at the moon’s touch, and stardust fell into the moon’s craters, now what was once a reflection is now a glow.
you taught me how to be a star // k.s
“Sorry.” With her mind so cluttered with everything and namely being angry with most everything, she was bound to misinterpret something at some point. The apology was all she had to offer though she doubted Priscilla liked her much from the get go regardless.
The only reaction the girl was bound to receive upon her apology was a short nod, her expression not faltering under the bright light, falling from the ceiling. Another moment of silence was allowed to pass, and a brief glance found its way in Cisco’s direction, upon its return. “Well, if you need anything, tell Cisco and he will contact me immediately.”
Claire was quiet a beat, nearly just dropping the entire discussion. She had said her thanks and was ready to move on to staying curled up n the spot she claimed as hers for the time being. Up until the latter comment. “Everyone asks that in one way or another. Would it kill you to have a little faith?”
A tilt of her head sent fiery locks of soft hair trembling down her shoulder, a subtle move and her eyes narrowed, allowing her gaze to pierce through the girl’s bright eyes. “Again -- never said that. I asked you a very simple question and perhaps you should consider spending less time on misinterpreting the things the people who help you, say.”
“Sometimes doing everything can still not be enough. Especially under these circumstances.” It was a matter of time she knew that, but time seemed to be moving entirely too slow. “It’s going to take a while to even rebuild.”
“I never said it was, did I?” Her words were cold, drowning in tranquilizing calm while gaze remained on the girl’s features in the bright lights shining inside the usually dimmed halls of the prestige club. Jaw clenched, a deep inhale fell through widened nostrils into her lungs. A slow turn and she faced the blonde entirely. “As brave as you may be -- what would you do about that, little bird?” One cry in the roar of a furious crowd would be outdrowned with ease.
( text; cilla ) I don’t want to lose you. Don’t disappear without me.
( text; cilla ) Please.
( text; calli ) Nothing is yet carved in stone. We will find a way. Promise.
coldcalliope:
( text; cilla ) I can’t. You’re what I have to lose and I can’t lose you.
coldcalliope:
( text; cilla ) I can’t. You’re what I have to lose and I can’t lose you.
coldcalliope:
( text; cilla ) I can’t. You’re what I have to lose and I can’t lose you.
( text; calli ) I may be gone soon. Without a ghost, the fog will lift sooner rather than later.
( not sent; calli ) But there'd be a free place on the passenger's seat.
coldcalliope:
( text; cilla ) I don't want to be afraid anymore, Cilla.
coldcalliope:
( text; cilla ) I don't want to be afraid anymore, Cilla.
( text; calli ) You know you've got my back. All you have to do is say the word.
“Not fast enough unfortunately,” Claire sighed. “Its been weeks and nothing has changed. It’s just getting worse.” She paused a beat, remembering something she had meant to do the first night she was there. Being too upset, Claire never got to it. “Thanks for letting me stay here by the way. I appreciate it.”
“No one’s having fun under these conditions. As far as I’m concerned, people are doing whatever they can.” A step carried her fruther toward Cisco, not once letting her eyes wander back toward the young girl. Hushed whispers didn’t produce an echo, as words on Italian were exchanged between her and the taller male. At the words of appreciation, she glanced over her shoulder, only nodded. “Don’t mention it.”
Crimson drenched pale white skin, smudged by fallen tears he would have never thought would be placed on this certain face. His gun instantly lowered at the sight, a horrid and cold clutching feeling holding onto his chest. He had never met the man in person, but he had recognised him from pictures, dusted off frames while everything around was left untouched. There were no words to express the loss of a close relative, that much Gabriel knew, and no words could be offered for someone whose heart had been ripped down. His gun was slipped back in it’s holster, safety on. An empty hand reached out, placed above her gun that she had already lowered. Matching her height, the man lowered himself to the ground. Taking the gun from her hand, the only support he could offer her was to hold her hand, which was exctly what he did.
Moments of pure vulnerability were a rare occasion, filled with the dreaded ache of heart and guilt swallowed whole by the hole inside her chest. Heartbreak was the cause for it to exist -- had found a way through the ivory cage trapping the fist-sized organ inside. Sorrow was a heavy burden, a tonne to bear on a frail’s skeleton’s shoulders, legs trembling and threatening to give in to the pressure added on a weakened body, hosting a mind, far from being as blissfully vibrant as it once had been. She felt the touch of his hand against hers, skin on skin nothing but a shallow comfort in a world, where everything seemed equally as bleak as dawn in the depths of the lands in its gloomy blue color with various darker shades and shadows spread across the fogged scenery. A shaky exhale trembled from her lips and uncertainty began to grow, a bitter plant’s seed thriving inside her heart. What to do now.
( text; cilla ) One may fear the cause will follow.
( text; calli ) What’s there to lose?
“Yeah, you’ve been out recently right?” Claire figured as much anyway. Whether it was for five minutes or five seconds an update of any kind would be nice. Despite the few in and out adventures, she kept to the club “Anything new? Has anyone figured out where Ricardo is?”
A nod was the only acknowledgement from her part, confirming the girl’s question as correct. Jaw clenched and a sigh was close to emitting. “Not that I know of.” One hand in the pocket of her coat, she stood still. “I’m sure people are working on it, though.”
( text; cilla ) I think I’ve been still too long.
( text; calli ) Then it may be time to evade. There’s only so much blood one can endure to witness pouring from an open wound.
@priscillapierce
“The number you dialed cannot be reached, please try again.” the recording repeated itself for a fourth time, which was the exact amount for him to start worrying. Having lack towards the rules Gabriel had made his way to the only place left for him to check, the restaurant Cilla’s father owned. With a gun in his hand, Gabriel managed to find his way inside, keeping himself from calling her, as the feeling that spread through his body was too eerie for his own liking.
Blood cloaked her hands, the pool of sanguine liquid gathered on the ground too vibrant for her liking. Eyes of blue shade stared up at the kitchen’s ceiling, tears were dry and sorrow started to swell inside her chest. A cruel emotion taking a hold of her heart, brows pulled deep into her features, shadows pulling the contour of her profile into the gloom destroyed by flickering neon lights. Footsteps ceased to catch her attention until the door pushed open. A single second, a quick reaction and the gun was pointed at the intruder -- a kindred spirit. Another breath, and the weapon was lowered, her right hand still wrapped around her father’s hand.