retried vows

[specialdisaster]

 Oh yeah, he'd heard of this guy. 

For sure! You couldn't tread very far along these widelands (not wide enough...) without hearing in through one ear and on the other out, ----needless to say, this a-dult well he was, it was one sound away from a dolt. 

And he wasn't sure about that either. He should be relieved to take it or give it, but thank goodness he didn't have anything on his hands that the dubious figure wanted, here was one known fact that everybody knew. ...If they knew what was coming for them. if He, yes that guy over there, were to so much as drift his fingers over all things good --- 

There problem lied therein, whatever they were ...wouldn't stay in that stellar quality for long. It's taking a great deal of stubbornness (which he has a lot of) to keep him rooted in his position and not bolt. 

He's a tough kid, you see.

[blu333grl]

first tattoo, capricornus constellation. the stars are drawn on top of preexisting freckles i had

[saiseishita-blog]

Ⓝemesism

[saiseishita-blog]

Linda stood, watching the scene unfold before her. How was this happening now of all times? Fighting was something she hadn’t done in quite a few months. Her mouth tried to find the words to offer the boy in response, but nothing. The breath was stolen from her as she was tugged forward by the younger male.

A small shriek of surprise broke her silence as she was tugged one way and then another. if there was one thing Linda was not, it was most certainly not a rag doll. Just the simple action got her feeling something other than fear, anger. The girl regained her footing and looked to the boy that had laid hands on her. Her brown eyes met his icy blue ones. Suddenly, her hands stood still, no longer shaking with nervousness.

"Listen here you little shit. I don’t know who the fuck you are, and I don’t care to know. So, if you could kindly fuck off that’d be much appreciated." The blonde spun slowly to take a look at the reaction of her admirers. "I know I might be tempting to touch, but if you lay another hand on me i’ll make sure you won’t make it past tomorrow."

In a quick motion, Linda took her keys out and held her arms away from herself, keys still in hand. Once more, she spun, quicker this time. Her finger pushed down on the small can attached to her keys. A thick spray emitted from the can and lingered around their faces. Pepper spray, the lesser potent of the sprays on the market, would give her about 30 seconds of a head start before their watery eyes came to.

The girl sprang a foot forward to kick the pretentious brat in front of her out of the way, before running towards he mouth of the alley. She ran to her left, the way she had come from. Going home was no good, she’d lead them right to where they could ambush her later. Her hand reached into her purse, wrestling with the dancing items in her purse for her cellphone.

"Caine! I don’t know if this is you or your voicemail, but i’m in trouble. Meet me at the warehouse. I know it’s sudden, but please hurry." She closed her phone, making her way to the spot she used to frequent. With just a pocket knife with her, there was no way she’d make it alone. Hopefully Caine would get the message and bring his top game. Otherwise, she’d be shit out of luck.

[specialdisaster]

 There simply wasn't much to it, he hadn't thought this over, like he did with anything. It was a little lonely at the top of his scrap heap, some kinda throne to put him up above all the others. Because between him and the dogs, to be honest there wasn't much keeping them apart at all.

He liked to try and teach the boys to play nicely, but probably they got the feeling that dirtier they got, the better. This was their lot, they did as they wanted and if they wanted they sprayed their load all over the place. 

At least a little funny, right? The unblemished, loud banner that they supposedly carried was a primary color and it was one of the easiest to soil, and that's probably the only reason that he's still around. 

He'd teach them, but it didn't do a thing because essentially he didn't matter. The one they were looking for had took off long ago, and there was no way of getting her back. As if skimming right through his mind, an unforgivable cry from his mobile slices through the mumbling and grumbling, numbing congregation. 

 The demanding ring that blared from his phone was a dull and pretty sober reminder that maybe he should really, really get his head checked. That ringtone in particular, actually hadn't rang in a while. He let it go to voicemail, because he wasn't convinced that it wasn't a glitch. As soon as the call drops, the ringtone dies he flips his phone open again, punches in his security code, and listens in. 

And all he can think is, he's been here too long. He's starting to hear things, he's fabricating these sudden happenings because he'd die to look alert but nothing's happening nowadays anyways. 

It's actually incredible, if his imagination can forward him this far, but that's not so. Something clicks when he hears the piercing voice cry into his ear and he can't be assed to hold the phone farther away from him, though he tries. It's a dire situation, her tone panicky, that's a chance of the pace set. He's cocking his head to the side, tilting it just enough so that the phone gets crunched in between his shoulder and chin. He doesn't have to do that, because the voicemail is so short but he replays it not two, three times. 

So okay, something was up. This only meant he had to take a stand. 

Great.

He wasn't exactly the influential leader they wanted to swear their lives on, not because he didn't once ask to be. But because he was fine being a lackey, a step-in, an overgrown babysitter for these sitting headaches that never did a splitting thing asked of them the right way. 

So why would this be any different? 

He stands up on the pile, swinging the crowbar at his side up and over his head for attention, not garnering any he hurls it at the nearest group huddled around a fire. It narrowly misses some guy's head because he ducks, skids off in the distance. "Thanks guys. 

Alright, now that I have your attention."  He claps his gloved hands together over his head, turning the phone to the group. Lets the voicemail go on speaker. In the spare warehouse they're in, even the drop of a penny would set off some echoes that would turn some heads. 

So if it's in the creator's plan for the group's hearts to turn and in their saving grace come in and rescue the Former Leader, Queen Bee's whooped ass. 

Then this was going to be a good day.

Linda's voice makes some people stand to their feet, which is good. He puts it away as soon as the message runs out, kicking a can off the heap of recycled scrap and smiles, like he's really turned 'on' for once. Caine is never there, not all there, if even 40%. 

'Alright, you shits, I need you to pack up. We're going on a fieldtrip today, class! Teacher's returned from her long trip so I'm positive she'll be looking to see each and every one of you. 

 Let's um.' He points towards the wide exit with another pipe he picked up, 'Brighten her day a little, huh?' 

[letdown-city]

Just as intended! Alright, so not exactly, exactly like it… but he can work with this. He’s amazingly adaptive. The physical closeness has Nozoya smiling even more, taking care that they don’t jar by bumping elbows. With his free hand, he works at his glasses, mostly as a sign of pride and not because they need to be fixed. Allow him to have his cliches, why don’t you.

‘I’d never say I wasn’t,’ he begins, in the positive tone of voice that implies that yes, he would probably say that, and yes, he might just feel that way. He throws in just the right amount of doubt to make it sound naive, but still instil doubt. Or, at least, he’s going for that. He’s no minister of words, but it doesn’t take much to charm a boy like this.

‘But as much as you know I like you, you know I’d never lie to you, right?’ He detaches their arms to pull a ridiculous pose, grinning at himself as he does so. Unlike most other ties, it’s not really malicious. He certainly DOES have an evil plan (it’s who he is), but sometimes, good moods are 90% good moods.

Nozoyas steers them in another direction, making an exaggerated point to scout about, like he doubts Caine’s claims. ‘-of course, I know your kind of friends, too. You and them are a lot alike.’ That’s his way of saying, “they’re just as bad as you can get." Of course, none of them as quite AS bad. He wouldn’t be here if that were the case.

‘No friends you think would be out past their bedtime? No group playtime you’d want to be involved in?’ He’s okay with anything! Group destruction, bonfires, burglary… he’s fine with it all. ‘You know,’ he starts in a wondering way, ‘if your friends aren’t having fun right now, we might just have to find some fun of our own. The kind of fun you wouldn’t find in that school of yours.

What do you think about that?’

[specialdisaster]

 Admittedly, he didn't want to admit, but he was having a hell of a time keeping up. Mm. At least that was a sure-fire sign that his, -- well, chaperone of ...sorts, was enjoying himself. 

And they hadn't really gone anywhere, so far. So was he doing good? Was he pulling this off. 

Likes were, he was not. 

 'So you are, not totally miserable.' He raises a set of crossed fingers, in plain view. 'Wow-wie, then. Knock yourself out. -- Or should I, I don't know.' He mumbles, 'Figured that was your job.' He still looks pretty confused, but that was forgivable, right. Caine just didn't have to get it all, and sometimes that was okay. 

'- I'll take that.' He breaks out into a teeth-filled grin, uncrossing his fingers and batting his hand at an open palm. Trying to fit them over, it's kind of a clumsy ordeal, but chance would have it that their fingers finally lock (albeit a little mismatched, and with some story of struggle) - He's done it! Accomplishment checkmark. Not too bad, not too shabby, for a small shot. Seriously.

Victory. Sorta. 'Happens that I might be talking to the right guy!' Who woulda thunk it. Not this guy, certainly not. 

 'Yeah. If it's gonna be you, you're bound to think up something that's going to knock my socks off, right? I can't guarantee that anyone'll be up, or wanting to fool around like we folks do.' He shrugs, but extracts his personal mobile from his pocket and smacks it into Nozoya's free hand. 'Bet'ya got all these sucker's contacts on your own thing, but whatever. 

If you want company, stir it up. If not, I'm keen on looking.

Sure, why not.'

[letdown-city]

So, two in the morning. Productive time, productive hour, if you’re a person like him. If you’re not a person like him, around this hour can be kind of problematic. How so? Well, one: you could get robbed. Who goes outside at night any more unless they’re drunk or in a gang? And two: you could be breaking curfew. Now, now, not so bad, of course not. But if you’re one of the aforelisted above, and either drunk or in a gang, that could spell trouble. What kind of kid wants to spend their night in a jail cell?

He’s kind of hoping that it’s this kid.

Not a bad thing, not bad! Definitely not. He’s not looking to get anyone jailed per se (not right now). But a willingness to go out at two in the morning under threat of criminal record is ah, what would you say? Appealing! That’s the word. And he’s pretty sure he’s secured this one front and centre.

He’s got Caine on one arm, pulling him close as he tugs him through the brightly-lit, sparsely-populated streets, humming some ditty that he probably heard on the radio. It’s probably a girl song. He doesn’t really care. He’s got the creepiest of smiles on his face, so all in all, you can tell he’s having a pretty good night.

It’s too bad they haven’t found anything to mess up, though.

‘Thinking about it, I bet you have a lot of friends, don’t you.’ Nozoya says this in the breeziest of ways, light and fickle like he tends not to be. He drums his fingers against Caine’s arm and adjusts his grip. ‘Are they as delinquent as you? Would we run into any of them?

I’d feel terrible if I couldn’t make your night.’

[specialdisaster]

He doesn't, and he's seriously never going to never know for sure. If that gorgeous set of genes, the 'I mean, congratulations on your face,' with that kind of grin settling in. What it all means. Unfortunate for him -He doesn't know ho to even come close to interpreting it at all. 

Yikes, if that wasn't enough excuse to keep one on their toes, tread with caution. But it doesn't take much to please a Caine, and he's on his tiptoes for different reasons. Certainly not complaining, that should -- kind of be a plus. Right?

He's a simple kind of guy. And right now he's just, really glad that he's got someone to warm up to. -- And if he wanders off on that trail of thought, it's probably too close for comfort for this (thankfully) dry weather, rather than say -sticky. Kind of! Given like the situation that he's in, 

 '--- That kind of stuff you should already be privy too, I think. But nah, no, not that popular. 

To contrary belief, or ...some '-it, like that. you get the idea.' He hooks their elbows together and secures the grip he has on him, kind of hanging off him, now leaning into him. 'Think you'd have to try really hard not be able to do that. I'm having a blast! ' He peeks up, just to squash the ebbing curiosity. He could have lived without that; it's enough to make him deflate for that split second, that's all it takes. He's usually content keeping his gaze glued straightahead or at whatever Nozoya's focus is on, and that's all fine, usually. He'd like to not have stuttered, either.

'- Aren't you?' Yep, and those effects should be as clear as day. Being shaky sucked. ' We can, we can uh.' He clears his throat. 

'Go wherever you want, next.'

[letdown-city]

‘I just might… but it’s probably nothing you can pay for.’

So is his ominous greeting — it’s usually meant to be intimidating, but in the presence of this special consideration, it’s nothing of the sort. Certainly, his voice has got all the makings of an evil element (he is kind of pure evil, right? So he’s been told), but his normally creeping expression is already giving way to a smile.

It’s still creepy, of course, but it’s a special kind of creepy.

‘Not on the wage you’re being paid there,’ he continues, ducking to the side as though he’s going to see the sign on the place his soldier’s just come out of. He has no idea what it is, actually, but he can definitely assume. And assume he does, scouting the other out with a curious eye. He does that for a full, pressing moment… and it doesn’t mean anything, because he creeps closer in the next, smoothing his hands over the boy’s shoulders to fix some of the wrinkles to his outfit.

‘Did you know it’s against most schools’ rules to have a job while you’re a student?’ he begins brightly, his tone the same as if he’d been announcing a sunny day after a week of rainy weather. It’s a little of the opposite in this case, right? ‘If you were anything like a normal student, you’d be expelled, wouldn’t you?’

[specialdisaster]

 He ought to be used to this by now, the swooping in and the swarming, but it's a world of difference when a voice like that gets put to a face, and words come from that entity. In that fluid, kind of intoxicating delivery he gets all caught up in what it sounds like, and not always the content. Very important stuff, but this type of attention is as fleeting as it wants to be. Not how much he needs it, never, no, it's -a hobby. That's what he's decided, at least for the man, - nothing short of a way to kill time. 

He's gotten pretty fond of how much the guy shows up, and if he doesn't do it on a frequent basis, it's attention in full. Sometimes overbearing, sometimes just enough. -- He likes it a lot.

   And he could listen to this man, all day. 

He's started to catch onto some patterns. None pertaining that would help him in his dire time of need, but the smaller, intricate patterns, like how. Some notes glide, others are choppy and unrelenting, and the next few questions, more like statements if he called it right -are delivered in what could easily be mistaken for reprimanding. If you knew the context of this man, though! It'd be anything but. -- A threat? Not so much, because -- not all rules applied to this special case somewhat student, somewhat worker, - that much he knew. 

How much he could get away with, that wasn't new news to him. '- Might be so, but think I hardly know the tolls of being an --as you put it, normal student. Having a curfew, and all that.' He shrugs. 

 '- Do I have a curfew that I wasn't aware of?   Or are you just that glad to pick me up.' He snags onto one of his sleeves and pinches on for a grip. 

'I wanted to be out a little longer. Tonight wasn't, that busy.' 

[specialdisaster]

 'That's weird.' He murmurs under his breath, checking the outside of the backdoor he'd just exited. He was still in uniform, but that could be shed pretty quickly - record time! He had this down, and in no time at all he could be rid of his workplace and heading on home like some assumed student returning home late from cramschool. -- He sure looked it, with that young face and his (when left unchecked), slack-ish if not lacking walk. Once he clocked out, though the job itself wasn't bad, he really cared for nothing to do with it. This transformation was stalled a tad than the usual, unsubtle escape as he lingered by the door with his grip still on the doorknob. 

From the tense atmosphere and the initial silence that he greeted it with, an anticipatory   Who's there?   - should have sufficed, but instead,

'- You got something for me?' Is the best that he can come up with. 

[letdown-city]

Putting a price on things — that’s one way into a negotiation, definitely. Personally, he’d been thinking somewhere between ‘compromise’ and ‘co-operation’, but this guy of this has put it down into an all-or-nothing deal… which is not, honestly, a surprise.

‘Oh, what a hard bargain you drive.’ He tries to sound sincere, he really does, but he can’t help it if his eyes have, mysteriously, found a way to roll themselves without his command. Betrayal! Rebellion! His body is under attack… by itself! He holds the expression as long as he can, looking away from his thief-to-be.

It doesn’t last so long.

‘Never said I was abandoning you. Funny how you missed that part…’ He trails off, and leans into the other, tangling a hand in his hair to secure him close. He doesn’t want to think about things like curfews or parents right now… and again, body under revolution. Even if he wanted to, he’d never be able to make his feet walk forward and leave. Such is his sad, sad tale.

‘It’s way too late to go home. What’s say you and me just stay here?’

[specialdisaster]

 'Excuses, excuses!' He tuts, but his undertone is something no shorter of overjoyed -- but no time wasted he's crushing the frailer self, definitely slighter but not lesser frame in his hold. 'At least I'm acute on something, huh.' 

'I'm guessing you're the good kid?' He snickers into his shoulder and it gargles out into something of a praise, smoothing the other's bangs back to flatten against his skull so he can get a proper view of his face at best. 

He could work with this. 'Never rising suspicions, letting the others take off and away with the mischief, that sounds so like you.' He sniggers and buries his nose into his collarbone. 'That's okay with me though, don't worry.

Not going to hold it against you.' As if he could. 

'Been keeping yourself busy?' He peeks up at the other's face and nudges both their heads together. Was he being too hands-on? Maybe. He figured, his doted upon would speak up one way or another. 

Or at least, he was counting on it.

 He jabs once at his chest, dragging the others' index, guiding his hand to it. 'In here, has been asking me to come and see you lately a lot. 

What do you say, demented?'

[specialdisaster]

'That's cute, but I thought we worked up the ladder from there.

Aren't I a little more pricy than your curfew?' He steps forward to nudge him a little more than friendly, draping an arm over his shoulder. 'Just one question for the embodiment of fantastic. -Are you getting ready to rid me or keep me?

 Because that matters, if not for all the worst.' He presses a kiss deeper into his neck and holds onto his side to keep him secured until he says otherwise. 'So, according to you. What am I allowed to get away with?' 

[costaricainimages]

[sscorpeo]

untitled by shawn lenker on Flickr.

[protegus-blog]

untitled by Olivia Rae James on Flickr.

[n0rthwind]

Prague by remaininglight on Flickr.

[jjigaehouse]

[specialdisaster]

N Seoul Tower’s Locks of Love

[palides-deactivated20130904]

(by Gabi Montes)

[imperfectio]

sans titre by neverseenthesea on Flickr.

[primsea]