owch

[rrrxwch-blog]

( the unheld child )

   No one could fault him for the crinkle of his nose,     or the overall look of disgust that had seized his     expression before it relaxed back into something     more… neutral, though there was the shadow of a     smile still looming about his jaw. Partially digested     ravioli aside, the newcomer was handling the sight     of an eviscerated human being pretty well. 

    ❝ That so? ❞ Tone absolutely conversational, he     gazed up at the other man—offered him a real smile     before unceremoniously reaching inside the ‘dearly     departed’s’ split open torso to retrieve and inspect     his undamaged liver. ❝ Does that mean you’re okay     with this? ❞ Why yes, he had just lifted the organ      up Simba-style, showing it off to his newest     acquaintance. 

    WITH HIS OWN GRIMACE, WHICH SEEMED TO MIMIC     the other’s, he turns just slightly, opening the fridge to grab     a small juice pouch ( capri sun, strawberry kiwi ). “i’m sorry.     that was awful. do you want a pouch?” he asks, leaving the      fridge halfway open in anticipation of the other’s response.     he turns to see them holding up a whole internal organ, and      sort of cringes a little bit, a small grin tugging up the corners     of his lips at the other’s question. “that’s gross. i’m mostly      concerned about, like...” he pauses, not too sure where he      was going with that sentence. “is it squishy?” he asks,      taking a small step forward with narrowed eyes, just to      get a better look at the organ. “what is that? the, uh... liver?”      there it is. that’s the ap biology in him. 

[rrrxwch-blog]

loudhallways:

He doesn’t expect to hear any acknowledgement from a passerby - it’s a rarity, in itself. He looks down, scowling. “I stepped in…gum today and didn’t realize it until I managed to create a huge mess of it.”

     FEATURES CONTORT INTO AN EXPRESSION OF UNDERSTANDING,      and lucky nods at the other, crossing his arms over his chest. "that does get      pretty bad when it happens to me. i would also be upset. is it okay now?"

[rrrxwch-blog]

( ncmadic )

she follows his gaze, adjusting her purse in hand as her  nose scrunches up slightly. “then it won’t last long, thank god,” she comments. if there is one season she hates most it’s winter. the cold air, snow, long nights and completely  absence of anything remotely fun causes her to turn her nose up at these months. though the clothing options are one  that she can’t help but enjoy, those that adorn her now having just been recently purchased days prior. 

     EYEBROWS MARKED WITH CONFUSION SETTLE TOGETHER      as he looks upon the other. the day had left redness in the undertones      of his cheeks, and, to put it frankly, he's tired. he wants to receive the      blessings of spring -- to stand under the sun and smell the life of mot-      her nature. not the death the winter summons upon its wake. after a       brief moment of hesitation, he shoves his hands into his pockets,       deciding it'd be nice to reply to the other. "i didn't know stickiness had      a correlation with longevity." he says, before nodding his head. "that's      very good, then. this slush is making me kind of sad."

[rrrxwch-blog]

ofignorance

      THE PITTER-PATTER OF FOOTSTEPS ON CITY SIDEWALKS       leaves much of lucky's confidence to be regained. he's never really       enjoyed the city much. too many things happening at too many diff-       erent times for him to keep up with. there is one thing, though. he        witnesses a wallet fall out of somebody's pocket -- black pants, ma-       ybe? he already forgets. anxiety riddled, he shuffles up to the wallet,       and picks it up. upon opening and looking at the face, he sprints up       to the closest one ahead of him who looks like they could be a        match, and taps their shoulder. "uh -- 'scuse me? i think you might've       dropped this?" 

[rrrxwch-blog]

( aesthetic guy. )

     The explanation for Ezra being here is much the same one      used to explain his presence in most places that aren’t his      usual haunts — he’s an art student. He’s taking pictures,      hoping to get inspiration for a painting, to allow a certain      atmosphere to develop in his mind and create a little magic      that will eventually bounce through his veins until they spill      eagerly out of his fingertips, through his brush and onto his      canvas. It’s wishful thinking. He’s ready for the semester to      be over.

He glances over when he hears the other speak; he’d been aware of him, but not wanting to get in his way, so he’d simply been observing as though he were not there. When spoken to, naturally, he responds. ❛Thank you for letting me know,❜ he says. ❛I’m a bit concerned about the weather, too. It’s been changing quickly and dramatically lately.❜

     THE SKIES SHOULD RAIN TOXINS THE DAY LUCKY DOESN'T CARE.        though his joints are tired from nothing, and the passion that sits in his heart        is but a dying breath of flame, he cares all too much. he clicks in his seat-        belt happily, knowing very well that people are the bumpiest ride. there was        not a day to pass where he, at some point, hadn't racked his brain for a solu-        tion for a problem that wasn't his. although the other did not seem entirely         too eager to indulge in conversation ( well, frankly, neither did lucky. his         tone lacked the same amount of upbeatedness that was woven in the voice         of many others ), it was a response more than simply 'thank you', and that        was enough of an excuse for lucky to continue the conversation. 

        "i was worried for your camera." he states quickly, gaze drifting down to the         machine the other carried, before flickering back up to make eye contact         when words slip off their tongue yet again. he nods a fraction, a hand moving         up to scratch at the back of his own neck. "global warming and stuff. yester-          day it was close to 10 fahrenheit. today it's mid forties."

[rrrxwch-blog]

( n/a. )

rrrxwch

      ”guess we’re on the same boat, mate. you’re half blind in one eye & my             hearing is shit. maybe we should start a club.”

      EYEBROWS TWITCH TOGETHER, MOLDED BY       a feeling he could only describe as vaguely uncom-       fortable. seas would fill with volcanic ash the day he       enjoys acknowledging the eye. "i don't think many        people would want to join a club that accentuates        flaws like these..."

[rrrxwch-blog]

ncmadic

        WISPS OF WHITE VAPOR SLIP PAST HIS LIPS.         although he normally likes snow, the ground wa-         sn't looking as pretty as he had hoped it would.          the snow, instead of sticking, melted upon cont-         act. the ground was slushy and icy and much too         dangerous for his liking. "it's not even sticking..."         he murmurs aloud, kicking at some of the slush.

[rrrxwch-blog]

( cold guy. )

  he doesn’t mind the rain  ( well,    he DOES live in england ), &   walking in it is no problem for reece, but he can’t help the twitch   of   his    lips     at      the       other’s     offer.     how     thoughtful.

              ❝  —————  nah, ya’ a’righ’,                     lad.    bi’ a’  wa’er  won’  ’urt  me.❞ 

  no. it won’t, but reece here,    tends to  get colds too often. sure,   he  doesn’t   exactly give a fuck,   but getting ill is a PROBLEM   for reece…. he  just  can’t  seem to sit  still for more than half an   hour         (     let      alone     stay     in       bed        all     day.    )

     WITH A HUM OF ACKNOWLEDGEMENT TOWARDS THEIR DECISION,        lucky closes his umbrella, moving around to the other's right side, so his         good eye was closer to the other. it was less of a self conscious act and         more of a technical one. he couldn't see them. he supposed, though, that a        deeply buried part of was secretly afraid of judgment. upon raising his hood        to block most of the rain, he nods. "you're right." plus ---- his umbrella was        sort of GIGANTIC. if it was up, seeing the one before him would be a defi-        nite challenge. "oh!" he murmurs, looking up to the other. "do you mind if i         walk with you?" he asks, almost forgetting his manners.

[rrrxwch-blog]

mythologied

     THE SKY WAS A SCOPE OF GRAYSCALE, AND THERE      was water sticking to wherever it could. a sole foot pushes       off from the ground beneath him. loud, rusty creaks groaning      from the swing he was on -- begging for any kind of lift of his      weight. he purses his lips upon seeing the other, but only      waits a brief moment before calling out. 

               "the ground there doesn't look muddy, but it is.                 and it's kind of deep, too. see?" he says, raising                 his mud-coated boot into the air for the other to see.

[rrrxwch-blog]

thiievery

    THOUGHTS OF FOLLY WOULD ONLY SPEAK OF DARKER DAYS.     because the sky was black and brewed fear, converted to sound by the      claps and booms that followed the white light. mother nature seemed to     be trying to erode the sins of humankind with her tears, but despite her      efforts, lucky was not one to particularly enjoy the sickness from cold,     wet rain. and he assumes the other doesn't either -- the one who strolls     just a bit ahead of him. so he quickens his pace a fraction, and speaks.

                      "----do you need an umbrella?" 

[mythologied-archive]

do you ever just glance at one sentence of someone’s writing and click follow cause that was me with rrrxwch just now

[rrrxwch-blog]

withoutparallel:

    ❝ Awkward. ❞ That was… all he really had     to say to being caught, (literally) red-handed,     stooped over a man he had killed in his own     kitchen. Maybe this was why the guy had put     up so much of a struggle! He had someone     with keys to his door, someone who gave     a shit. Wasn’t that cute.  

    ❝ You never think these kind of people      have loved ones, but alas, they do. I was just     cleaning up. If you don’t scream or do anything     else just as stupid, nobody else has to die.     Not tonight, anyway. ❞ 

        WITH IRON-CLAD DETERMINATION AND WILL TO SPARE,         he enters the apartment with confidence, wholly determined to         demand a raise from Mr. Cheggars. Babysitting demons for the         little pay he received  a b s o l u t e l y  did not cut it anymore.          Upon stumbling onto the sea of red that unfolded in the other's          kitchen, Lucky narrows his eyes a little bit.

        Oh, what a nice surprise! He didn't think he'd be seeing that         Chef Boyardee again. This time, on the floor of his employer.         Mixed with a little bit of digestive acid. A pretty picture, really.         He spits out what's left, adding to the pile of vomit before sha-         king his head. His gaze rises to the not-as-dead one.

                ❝ He raised awful children. They were like,                  tiny demons with amazing stamina. I'm also                  fairly certain he didn't tip, either. ❞

[rrrxwch-blog]

tinkeriisms

    EYEBROWS CREASED WITH SOMETHING CLOSE TO     worry, Lucky swallows thickly, holding out one of the two cups     in his hand. "Do you like coffee?" he asks. "'Cause I got you      coffee. You seemed... tired? It's mocha. And there's a little      bit of sugar. Just two spoonfuls, though.."

[rrrxwch-blog]

( coffee guy. )

    ❝ Would you care to accom-           pany me for some coffee? ❞

     SCRATCHING AT HIS CHIN, THE OTHER EMITS      a contemplative hum. after a brief moment of consi-      deration, he asks, "will there be mocha...?"

[rrrxwch-blog]

loudhallways

     AFTER A SMALL HUFF, HE ADDRESSES THE OTHER.      "why do you look so upset?" he asks, a bit of a frown       gracing his features. "has somebody stolen your bed?"

[rrrxwch-blog]

diirewulf

     EYEBROWS TUG TOGETHER AS HE PATS HIS POCKETS.      he turns over to the other, offering an apologetic frown. "have you      seen an IPOD sitting around?" he asks, not realizing he's alre-      ady put it in one of his back pockets. 

[rrrxwch-blog]

( MR. SUN. )

        “…you wanna do somethin’ way more fun?”

           “--ROLLER COASTERS give me heart burn.”