split

Solomon Miller 31JesterHitman

[solemnpeace-blog]

@hcrlwknight​‌:

Perhaps anyone else might have held self preservation a little more closely, but Harlow didn’t have time for it and the haphazard condescending nature of everything she said was only granted such a sliver of opportune softness and humor while around those that wore the Jester rocker. Canting her head, dark tresses fell across the curve of her shoulder, “Do you think you can manage even that?” Teeth caught her lesser lip in a subsequent huff of a menial sigh, her fingers already tapping across the security pad that kept them from breaching the buildings threshold.

Solomon, in a pique of amusement, mimed zipping his lips shut and throwing away the key, acting far more like his twin, Valentine, in that moment then his usual laconic self. It was her own fault for provoking him, in her own way, and Solomon couldn’t help himself. He leaned against the wall by the security pad and raised a pointed brow, as if to say he was waiting for her to work her magic. Even though he would probably be more than capable of breaking through the security pad, he’d had harder ones to break while on the job with Val, but she didn’t necessarily need to know that.

[solemnpeace-blog]

marley-callahan‌:

“What level are we? Milkshake sharin’ better have me at least at level two, if not three. And think wisely ‘bout your answer.” She gestured to the milkshake currently in his grip. This was common, between the two. Pointless conversations that never lead anywhere. It was nice, though. Not having to actively try and say nothing of importance. Nearly eight years of being out of Arizona and it never got any easier. “Oh, I’m sorry, wasn’t aware you’ve seen a dragon in real life.” Eyes rolling, they settled in on the next option, a snort immediately tearing through her. “An arrow? Really? Pointin’ to where, exactly?”

Solomon narrowed his eyes in quiet consideration, taking a long drag of the milkshake still in his hand, the inevitable brain freeze worth the effort it took to look so nonchalance. After a long minute, he simply stated, “Two point five.” And turned back to the flash book, as if nothing had happened. She was more like a three, but it wouldn’t do to let her know that, because then she’d stop trying to rise in the ranks. He snorted softly at his own idiotic tangent, and slid a finger across the image, “Why’s an arrow gotta point anywhere? Can’t it just be an arrow, mindin’ its own business?”

[solemnpeace-blog]

@calknox​‌:

“Was someone telling you otherwise? I’d be glad to, you know, speak to them, as someone who actually has lived there for a while.” Cal offered to the other with a defiant nod. “I looked it up, and asked around to the citizens for confirmation.” He added, knowing how the internet and such could easily compromise a lot more often than not, especially in the lifestyles he and Solomon were living. “Curling? I went to a few of those games, but never got much into it or understood the point either. Now the maple syrup tasting? I certainly tried a lot of that if you and your brother ever want some of those recommendations?”

Solomon simply raised a brow at Cal, wondering quietly how the many imagined the twins would ever go anywhere else but here for the foreseeable future, but he let a slight smirk curl on his lips, regardless. “Not really a sweets fan, but thanks. Plus, once you’ve had one maple syrup, you’ve had ‘em all, right?” Humming out his own amusement, he turned back to the journal he was writing in and let the conversation lull for a few minutes before asking just as simply, “Did you get to ride on one of those dog sleds everywhere, or were moose the only mode of transportation?”

[solemnpeace-blog]

@jensenbarbosa​‌:

Jensen made his way up from his crouched position so he could face the other male. “A ‘71 Thunderbolt? Nice,” he commented before focusing on the actual question. “I might have one layin’ around somewhere, I’ll be right back.” He walked over to the different boxes containing various pieces for bikes. Rummaging through the one that contained clutches, his eye fell on the one he needed. Walking back with said piece in his hand, he held it up. “A BSA A65. Has been used before but should work just fine,” Jensen informed.

Solomon simply raised a brow at the quiet praise from the other man, “Thanks.”. He took pride in his bike, and made sure he knew how each gear and bolt worked, but he’d never quite understood some of the fanatical way those in the gang worshiped their bikes. It reminded him too much of some of the men he served with and their relationship to their guns, and was one of the main reasons he avoided the garages as much as he could. With a blink of surprise he took the clutch from the man and inspected it with a slight grin, “And thanks again. You saved me about a hundred bucks in shipping.” He eyed the rest of the garage with a faint sense of amusement, “Makes me almost wonder what else you got floating around here I might need.”

[solemnpeace-blog]

@bloodyvalens​‌:

           “Joke’s on you, I sold that years ago. It belongs to some junkie back in Toronto when I was hungry, damn good sandwich too,” he muttered as he rubbed at his eyes and immediately regretted it without picking off the clothes that’d been thrown at him. Eventually he’d move when the other wouldn’t leave him be, but that didn’t mean he was going to move any faster than a snail’s pace with his hangover. “That’s ‘cause that fucker was going to try and cut me out and no one cuts me out unless it’s me. But if I knew then what I know now, I would have said good riddance and let you have them.”

   “That explains why I woke up in a bathtub of ice that one time, but doesn’t explain all the other times. Am I just filled with newspaper and sawdust by now?” Solomon could leave and let Valentine deal with his hangover himself, but he was deriving far too much pleasure from his twin’s discomfort and took up a position leaning against the door jamb. “Only you would get into a fight with an imaginary friend over rights to my body, you freak. Guess you only have yourself to blame for my continued existence, and why I”m not going to leave you alone until you get those damn shorts and sneakers on, and get on your feet. I can do this all day, Val. I got nowhere else to be.”

[solemnpeace-blog]

@bloodyvalens​‌:

              “No one would even know you’re gone,” he got out before the sharp, splitting pain caught him off guard like it did every single, fucking time before he was falling forward and only the grip that Solomon had on him saved him from hitting the ground. Sure, he should have stayed down to start with but he wasn’t about to admit the other being right – not even now. “They’d go, how come I never see the two of you together anymore? But they’d never guess that I fuckin’ killed you. It’s the perfect crime.” But he knew as well as Solomon, that if anyone was bound to go first out of them – it was always going to be Valentine.

    Though Valentine’s words were said in angry jest, there was a kernel of truth to them. If Solomon disappeared, there really wouldn’t be anyone around to miss him, but Val. He spent so much of his time trying to go unnoticed, and unattached, that there wasn’t anyone out there that would mourn his passing. It was only his connection to his twin that made him feel like he was a person most days, but he pushed down the unease in his chest and helped guide Val to their couch. “And then you’d have to cook, and clean, for yourself. Sounds like I’d get the better end of the deal, then. Eternal rest, and all that shit, right?” He plopped Val down onto the couch and turned to head to the bathroom to get their heavy duty pain pills, “Or maybe it’s  of the fiery variety for people like me, huh.”

[solemnpeace-blog]

@bloodyvalens​‌:

          “We both know that when that happens, I lose and we still win.” He didn’t fight for pride or standing with the other members and people who haunted the same space but to quiet the shit in his head. It worked, sometimes and others he needed the help in the form of the alcohol in the bottle that he’d taken on their way out. Solomon might have something to say, but Val didn’t give a shit that night. He had let the other take a few hits to make it look like the fight was more fair than it actually was – the other was sloppy and left themselves open too many times. If Val had been on the job, the other would have been dead in a matter of moments not knocked down in a matter of minutes. Instead he played his part like a good little boy, swinging and connecting his hits when he needed to line their pockets with the most that they could until next time. “They’ll never stop underestimating ‘cause if they do, then we sign me up as you and watch the odds skyrocket.”

Solomon simply hummed under his breath, because as much as he hated the thought, Val was right. The two of them were meant to be underestimated, to be overlooked, because in their line of work that’s what made them so good at their jobs. And kept them from getting caught. Only a handful of people knew what they really were in the gang, and why they were given some form of freedom, but that didn’t mean he had to like it. Sol was truthful with himself, and if Val turned to him one day and said he wanted to leave, they’d be gone before the dust settled, but as it stood--Val needed these people, in some way shape or form, and so they stayed. And Sol had to watch Val beat, and kill, people, over and over again. “Livin’ the high life.”

[solemnpeace-blog]

@bloodyvalens​‌:

            Val rolled his eyes. “My heart just wasn’t in it,” he replied as if it were the answer the other was looking for or some other kind of response. Either way, he needed his arm popped back into socket and the other was the closest to accommodate. If he would, holding back another gripe at his lips as he grimaced. “Just do it. The longer you stand around and talk about it, the more ways I’m gonna stand here and think about where I’ll stash the fucking body where no one will find it.” He added a quick grin to his lips before it fell again, a bead of sweat on his brow the longer that he went on with it hanging there lifelessly.

“Whatever. You can bitch, but you’d miss me.” Solomon let out a little snort, and when Val was distracted by whatever it was going on up in that tangled up mess he called his head, he took the man’s arm and popped it back into place with a slick thud. Prepared for the fallout, having done this far too many times to count, he wrapped an arm around Val’s waist to give him support. “Plus, who else would fix up your sorry ass?”

[solemnpeace-blog]

@bloodyvalens​‌:

          With the right amount of pressure on the other man, Valentine could have picked him apart in a matter of minutes – maybe less, but his head wasn’t in the right mindset and allowed in a few extra hits that he could have blocked. A hit upside the head sent him stumbling towards the edge of the ring with an overwhelming cheer from the crowd for the other that burrowed its way underneath his skin enough that the skin on his knuckles continued to bust open with every hit that he gave and took. Eventually the other went down and Val somehow made it out of there on his own two feet, heading through the people that knew better than to get in his way unless they wanted to be like the man he left behind – until only Solomon was in his line of sight. He didn’t answer, not right away, but instead grabbed the full bottle and left the other to sort out the details with Dom at another time. “Fine, it fucking reeks in here anyways.” 

Solomon pressed the heel of his hand to his temple to ward of the phantom of a headache already coming on, but chose not to comment on the alcohol his brother stole. Knowing full well that whatever he felt now was worse for Valentine. He tossed Dom a bill and a wave then followed in the wake of Val all over again, only this time they got to leave the pressing masses of the bloodthirsty. Though, he knew, he’d probably be spending the rest of the evening making sure his brother didn’t drink himself into a coma. Catching up once they made it out into the fresh night air, he bumped their shoulders together and let out a long sigh, “We made bank. Congrats on consistently being seen as the underdog. I don’t know what we’re going to do when they stop underestimating you. I won’t be able to play the odds as well.” 

[solemnpeace-blog]

@bloodyvalens‌:

         “Yeah but you’ve got more than enough for the two of us, am I right?” His words slurred somewhat, a mixture of being hung over from the night before and sleep that he tried to shake off as he rubbed his face. That was why he didn’t see the clothes come aiming for his face and only that reason, no other reason like he didn’t see it – but he frowned. “Are you done yet? You need to make a friend. Someone who likes to run. Or like get an imaginary one.”

“I draw the line at giving you part of my liver.”  Solomon bit his lip to keep from laughing at the spectacle that was his twin, barely lucid and covered in his clothes and shoes. He’d almost feel pity for the other man, if he didn’t remember how long Valentine had kept him up last night with his drunken ramblings. “I tried having an imaginary friend once, remember? You threatened to shank them if they didn’t leave me alone. So me being friendless is ultimately your fault, and why you’re the one that is going to be tortured with running.” 

[solemnpeace-blog]

@kimicastillo​‌:

                    “Do you ever wonder why people purchase the things that they do?” Kimi inquired, directing her attention on the blond male. A Jester that had caught her interest, and for no particular reason, but that was a point of what she did for her club. She kept up on the foolishly wild without any real cause green clowns in ways that no one else truly could. It was even better that the Jesters weren’t privy to her talents or skills, she was undetected in her snooping and well, today she wanted to see if she could make Solomon squirm or slightly uncomfortable. “If someone were to take a look at your grocery list, so to speak, do you think they could unravel the mystery of you?” ( @solemnpeace )

Solomon looked up from his perusal the fruit section in the grocery and turned to the woman who’d come up beside him and decided to strike up a conversation. He didn’t entirely know what was so mysterious about choosing between a cantaloupe and a honeydew melon, but he also knew that people and Vegas were strange, and she probably thought she was serious. “Not really.” He grabbed a cantaloupe, tossed it in his basket and headed towards the vegetables, “I’ve always found grocery lists are just filled with food and toiletries. All the important stuff is up here.” Sol sent her a raised brow and tapped his temple before debating between grabbing romaine or iceburg lettuce.

[solemnpeace-blog]

@marley-callahan​‌:

“Here I was thinkin’ we were best friends.” Marley sighed with a shake of her head, as if truly disappointed. It was no secret that Val was the brother Marley was closer to–much, much closer–but the relationship she had with Sol, however casual, however small, was one that kept her amused, at least. A look was barely spared at the snatching of her milkshake, just glad to see him drinking it this time, rather than finger it. With an amused laugh, she turned back to the book, shaking her head. “Better not let him hear that.” Tilting her head sideways, Marley had to admit, she herself was having a trouble discerning just what it was. “…thought it was a dragon.”

“Friends, maybe. But I require at least a level four friendship to unlock best friendship.” Where this had come from, Solomon didn’t really know, but he’d been bored, and rattling around in his head, so getting to let go of all that and simply enjoy himself for a little while was fun. Especially if he got a milkshake out of it. He took another long sip, tilting his head to get closer to the drawing and let out a snort, “No dragon is that feathery.” He flipped a page, and pointed at another one, “How about this one?”

[solemnpeace-blog]

@mattlawless​‌:

“Suck my dick, Miller,” the Jester grumbled out angrily, one of his fists still balled to his side. He knew just how ridiculous it was to get riled up over such a trivial thing yet Matthew couldn’t tone down the frustration that took over him every time Solomon would pronounce that same word, at the end of each game. 

“I’m done playing with you,” he spoke as he finally turned around to face the other man, his features finally free of any signs of anger — for now, at least. “You know, I used to play back when I was inside,” he confided as he sat back down, although his voice completely devoid of emotions as if he was recalling someone else’s story. “It was the only thing I had. They wouldn’t really let me outside, sometimes for weeks, because they said I tempted the others to fight,” he shrugged, although a small smile cracked the corners of his lips. “I really thought I was good, man. What’s your trick?” 

Solomon let out a sharp bark of laughter and started to reset the chessboard, “Gonna have to win a lot more before that’ll happen, Lawless.” Matthew might be too pissed to play another round, but it gave Sol something to do with his hands, amusement and that small bubble of happiness making him restless.

“Fine, fine.” He set down the last piece and turned to Matthew, surprised there was the faintest sliver of a smile on his lips. “Wait, you? Tempting people to fight? Say it isn’t so.” Letting out a soft snort, he sat back in his chair and let his arms cross against his chest with a shrug, “Not that hard. You’ve only played against other people who also don’t know how to play chess. Not your fault. You just needed a better teacher.”

[solemnpeace-blog]

@marley-callahan​‌:

“Hey, I’ll have you know I’ve got plenty of romancin’ in my life, thank you very much.” She shoved the chair with her foot, shoulders lifting in a shrug. “Mine just happens to always lead to a specific place.” Re: the bedroom. “As it should.” It was just what she wanted from it…but remembering that one of these “romances” was with his brother (and knowing Val was, in fact, different), Marley quickly moved on from the subject and leaned over to admire the flash book Sol was seeking inspiration from. “A butterfly? Do I look like a butterfly kinda girl?” Marley shook her head, holding her milkshake between them, as if to stop him. “Don’t answer that.” Returning her gaze to the designs, she pointed to one at random. “How ‘bout this one?”

Solomon simply gave her a flatly amused look as she kicked his chair and he rolled away a few feet, knowing exactly what she was talking about, and why he wasn’t going to touch it with a ten foot pole. There were many things that he knew about his brother, but what he did behind his bedroom doors was one line the two of them never crossed. Ever. “You could be a butterfly girl. What do I know.” As her attention shifted to the book, he took his chance and snatched the milkshake from her hand, taking a long sip of it this time, not bothering to pop the top this time. “What’s that supposed to be? A chicken?”

[solemnpeace-blog]

@mattlawless​‌:

starter delivery for @solemnpeace

“Checkmate!”

“Whatever, asshole,” Matthew grumbled lowly, looking at his three remaining pieces on the board and balling his fist to the side, ready to smash the table in half. Violence was expected from people like him but he’d learned to keep it in check as the years had gone by and his time in jail should have been enough of a testament to his growth and newly gained maturity. Looking at the board now, he couldn’t help but let out a low, humorless chuckle and quickly get up from his seat, walking over to the nearest window and lighting up a cigarette. It was either that or shoving every last piece of chess down the twin’s throat and he didn’t think the other would take kindly to his outburst. 

“I literally didn’t budge as three guys tried to shiv me in the slammer. I withstood my father’s fury for years. And I don’t fucking know why, but the fact that you manage to win every single fucking time is the one thing that makes me lose my mind,” Matthew explained slowly, taking a drag out of his cigarette and letting the nicotine wash over him. “You better erase that smug grin out’ your face before I punch your teeth in, Miller,” the empty threat only making him more furious as he was still looking out the window, knowing that Solomon was now probably harboring his usual victorious smile. 

“Checkmate.”

Solomon was smug, sure, and probably could’ve called checkmate three moves ago, but it was more fun to watch Matthew get so riled up over a few pieces of wood. The man never seemed to quite get the idea that there was more than one strategy when dealing with chess, and no matter how many different ways Sol approached it, he always ended up the victor. He fully expected to end up with his queen shoved down his throat one day, but it would still be worth it to say checkmate that final time.

“What can I say, I’m just lucky.” Sol couldn’t help his grin being as smug as Matthew said it was, just as he couldn’t stop himself from grinning, despite the threat. “Best two out of three?” 

[solemnpeace-blog]

@marley-callahan​‌:

Eating that. Marley scoffed at the phrase. “Evidently.” She nodded to his chocolate stained figures, shaking her head amusedly. Eating a milkshake, with his fingers, nonetheless. She knew he didn’t believe her about mistaking him for his brother. While physically, they were identical, the way they carried themselves was completely different. Admittedly, she knew Val better than she knew Sol, though still not knowing much about either, but even then. She’d never had a problem telling them apart. “Well, what do I know ‘bout love, anyways?” She shrugged her shoulders, unbothered by the rolling of his eyes, and her own words. She enjoyed Sol’s company, as sarcastic as it was, and as for her lack of a love life, it was all her own doing. “Okay, how ‘bout this: we come up for a tattoo for me.” She’d never get one, of course, but the mental image was humorous. “What do you see? Better be good. It’d be my first one.” It was clear she was not being serious, just curious to see what he’d come up with.

Sol surveyed the milkshake in her hand, debating whether it was worth it to try to take it again. He wiped the rest of the shake off on his pants and figured he’d get the chance to steal it again, he’d just have to bide his time, and turned to grab a flash book. “So, since you’re such a romantic, a heart is out.” He figured with her empty skin, she was about as likely to get a tattoo as he was, considering she worked there on a regular basis, and he knew how persuasive they all could be. He’d seen countless people come in for a small piece and walk out with a back tattoo, and it was only by sheer stubbornness and necessity that kept Solomon from getting tricked into one. “How about a butterfly? That’s...feminine..”

[solemnpeace-blog]

romanxvaughn‌:

Despite being “aligned” with the Sinners, there were plenty of them who didn’t know Roman – or vice versa. He had specific jobs to do, and the more anonymity he carried even within that gang, the safer he was to keep doing what he was doing. Though days like today, when he was out on patrol, there were no sides for him to choose – he was simply doing the job he’d signed up for so many years ago. He was a lawman, and he enjoyed helping people. It’s why when he saw a broken bike on the side of the road, he hadn’t hesitated to pull over. “Need any help? There’s a shop not too far from here, you know. I could probably call and get them to come over here.”

Figures the first person to come by his pitiful self would be a state trooper, of all things, and Solomon didn’t stop his head from fall back against his bike with a dull thud. There were so many things he could do to wave the man away, but that would mean he’d have to wait for someone else to come pick him up, or start the long walk back home. Gathering every ounce of his brother’s persona around him, he picked his head up from the wheel with a bright grin aimed at the man, “You’d be willing to help me with my bike? That’s awfully nice of you, officer, but I don’t want to put you out like that.”