Dum Spiro Spero

[Semi-selective OC RP blog: Street performer, dancer, musician, all-around goof.] A tamed beast, sharp fangs & gentle bark. Ear to the ground, head in the clouds. His voice a tool that sings for freedom, Body a vessel that dances for love. The Dreamer, The Jester. A sheep in wolf's clothing.

[spiroamavi-blog]

vexsed

❛ this is a shit-show. ❜ 

    piss.            this looks an awful lot like conversation.

ever the expressive sort —well, only if you could count the three he has as such —alex’ reaction was all in the motion. the standard pursing of lips, clenching of the jaw and the one, twitchy brow that invoked something between a disappointed headmistress and pseud theater student. he was, as usual, a golem of terracotta and perturbation.

realizing that, not only had he failed to recall the perched stranger, he had also forgotten his entire reason for being in the kitchen to begin with, his vexation was directed inward. and suddenly everything that had only irritated him a little had increased in tenfold. the noise, the people. his brain.

another thing that dawned on him with some delay; how thoughtless his prior comment was. sure, even the obnoxious, tacky walls were causing him to internally emanate distress signals, but in all fairness, the stranger hadn’t said a thing out of line. i don’t even have a reason to be an ass.

 ❛ that was rude. i mean; i was rude. ❜ he lent back against the counter, switching between his thumb resting on his collarbone and palms on his hips, before settling on simply crossing his arms like an insecure bouncer, ❛ i’ve been here for awhile, i just haven’t paid attention. been paying attention. attendi—yeah anyway; what happened  ? ❜

      wait, what the fuck is a jello shot.

    The blunt utterance from his new (...well...not really new. He knew the guy’s name, shot the shit with him on a few last-minute energy drink runs to the store he worked at. But he couldn’t exactly say ‘friend’. Could he? Nah...no, that’d be weird....Right? Yep. Weird.) acquaintance drew a confused quirk to his ever-present smile. This is a shit-show...the party? Or speaking with him? Did he mean Theo himself? Did he look as bad as he felt? He was pretty sweaty from dancing but he thought he still looked pretty okay - maybe he smelled. That was entirely plausible.      A ghost of a laugh hiccuped from the lad’s lips, though there was a distinct lack of understanding behind any humor of it. A knee-jerk reaction that had become habit. Laughter, he had found, was a reliable survival tactic.        Momentarily averted eyes found their way back to Alex’s face to catch what seemed to be....some sort of stone-faced distress. Annoyance, maybe? Not surprising. It seemed to be a common reaction to Theo’s presence, though he didn’t exactly revel in it. Whatever it was, there was some shadow of tension that he felt a personal need to relieve. Initial impulse drove him to making some sort of joke, though he wasn’t opposed to excusing his entire...well, self, if it was bothering someone else.       A fleeting moment of lucidity had him opening his mouth, but before he could summon any actual words, Alex ended up doing so, instead.       ‘Rude’? His lips sealed shut, a pause in his thoughts almost tangibly visible with just how much he wasn’t expecting that. The prickling heat of self-awareness immediately cooled and the alcohol’s comforting embrace settled back into his veins.       “Oh. Uh, No worries!” Amusement fizzed inside his belly, bubbling all the way up to his scrunching nose and wrinkling eyes that rode atop a grin. It was almost...endearing to watch such an intimidating person squirm in uncertainty, though he wasn’t about to let that thought slip, as so many others often did. Now that would be rude, to bring attention to someone’s discomfort...but seeing as Alex was still bothering to put in any effort towards speaking to him, that was at least a sign he wasn’t completely off the insufferable-drunk-deep-end, yet.        “What happened was,” Theo mused, seeming to completely disregard any of the fumbled words that preceded to form the question at hand, “...the inevitable descent into hell that parties usually take when everyone’s had just a smidge too much.” His face held a knowing stare as his feet slowly revived their lulling kicks atop the counter. “Y’know when, like...you know something’s a stupid idea but somehow you’ve gained super-powers from those last few drinks, so ‘fuck it’?”  Get to the point, mate. “-- We had a drinking competition and now I’m enjoying my last moments alive as a functioning human being.....but how about you? If you’re at a party, but not ‘paying attention’, what exactly does one do? I haven’t seen any dogs around, so. Option one sounds like it’s out the window.” 

[spiroamavi-blog]

vexsed

  in every moment his name was recalled and alex couldn’t quite return the favour, he felt like he’d been anchored to the very spot. floating between the idea of ‘pressing on’ or ‘actually trying’, it was a common event that peppered his late childhood and, evidently, followed him into adulthood.

 it was, in all honesty, the feeling of dread. or alternatively, ‘i know that you know something; but i dont know what you know.’ alternatively alternatively; the human brain is utter bullshit.

shoulders rose, followed by painfully alert self-awareness which prompted him to drop them. gaze drifted from counter to counter, soon finding the man’s hands, covered in tidbits of an assorted shades of beige and orange. it all looked congealed, with a mind having been blanketed in a sweep of anxiety.

  ❛ you have, ❜ thrown for a loop, alex paused as he decided that he’d rather just ‘press on’ and hope the stranger doesn’t notice he is one, ❛ snack dust …or whatever, on your shirt. ❜

In spite of the fumbled chewing, his smile still relayed through his eyes even as a busied hand made the attempt to cover his mouth. The expression seemed to teeter somewhere between the ledge of bashful and friendly - that was, until the first words offered to him had been to point out what a mess he'd made.   

      The observation took a split second to register in Theo's mind, the clicking churn of a gear visible through those same expressive eyes, until finally gaze fell downward. A brief inspection of his own crumb-speckled chest unlocked a sudden bark of laughter. Followed by an even more amused cascade of noise, he was finally forced to finish the mouthful that kept trying to sputter out with a complete swallow.  

       "I do!" Theo agreed, at last revealing his grin to full capacity. He didn't seem to mind, making no real effort to brush away his snack-dust coating. "Hopefully, I'm being a porker with purpose. Let's see if all these carbs can counteract the six jello shots that are gonna kick my ass in T-minus..." Vibrant irises dimmed as he squinted to peek about the kitchen until landing on the neon green of a digital clock. "Eh, 20 minutes?" 

        From his chipper tone, that too didn't seem to be of much concern. With a thoughtful nod, Theo finally took a few wandering steps to relieve his spot as the snack bowl's diligent guard, to instead hoist himself onto the counter.   

        "You just get here, or did you see that whole shit-show?" The crunch of another cheesy pretzel followed Theo's innocent inquiry, feet idly swaying to just barely tap his heels against the counter's side.  

[spiroamavi-blog]

TAGGED BY @vexsed​ TAGGING idk anybody yet, say I tagged you and make me feel better.

BOLD THE AESTHETIC FOR YOUR MUSE. ITALICIZE WHAT CAN BE TAKEN TWO WAYS. REPOST AND DON’T REBLOG !

                                       MUSE AESTHETIC  !

the softest palms that never want to touch you until after a bottle of wine. / just braid your hair if you won’t brush it, at least, you useless girl. / pulling on your skirt pants with one hand as you shuffle away. / you’ll get it done before the day is up. / guilt that isn’t yours to have. / it’s a crooked game, but it’s the only one in town. / chains. / how could you do this to me? / the sharp sting of guilt. / you feel something even though you’re paid to do the opposite. / the family you never had. / falling backwards through time. / quicksand. / drowning, but you don’t save yourself. / you’re getting better. / they smile like a snake. / you’re the stars and the sky. / there’s a part of you that couldn’t stay away even if you were forced to. / they are your wings, there’s no doubt there. / let’s take off somewhere. let’s fly. / you edge a bit too close to the sun. / another ghost to take your place after every stumble. / deep roots in the ground slashed open in the sun. / rock candy melting in water. / waves rise and leave the foam behind. / the precipice you call home has a tip you’ll reach eventually. / happiness is the best front a man can take.

 i’ve never seen someone as beautiful as you before. / you disagree; they’re more beautiful. / discomfort at the tiniest of touches. / the sky opens up when you see them. / rain comes down. / poppy fields. / your sanity hanging by a thread. / oh god, what have you done? / roommates weren’t supposed to be the smartest ones of all. / they’ve got a devil on their shoulder and an angel in their mind. / you try to help but it only got worse. / now they’re dead, it’s all your fault. / adam & eve in the garden. / a temptress in crisp button-downs. / fuck, you’ve gone off the deep end, haven’t you? / they lie so perfectly you almost forget yourself. / the spark that lit the kindling on your funeral pyre. / sugar and spice and a taste for the dark side. / yes saint laurent black opium on your pillow, a scented cloud drifting behind you like a cape. / crisp green apples piled up on the table. / your shoes are sharp, but your wit is even sharper. / what a pretty one, they say. / you laugh without humor. / a soft, hollow spot sits in your chest. / there’s a place you’ll never leave no matter who tries to stop you. / the seat of power fits like a glove. / heavy is the head that wears the crown. / you share a space, but not a mind. / they think you are weak; you are, maybe.

what are you going to do with all of these pills? / an empty bird’s nest. / broken pencil tips. / there’s an empty paper in front of you that you’ll never fill. / we want you to succeed. i hope you can grasp that. / they weren’t there when it happened. / corruption. / there’s a red string tying you together. / the scent of whiskey on the horizon. / you’re the best friend i’ve ever had. / pink tipped fingers lock in secrecy. / 99 red balloons drifting through a hazy sky. / you try to lift your head up, but it’s so much effort. / always walking on sunshine. / there’s a million reasons to come down from the clouds, but you can’t be bothered. / hair twisted up with glitter butterfly clips like a haphazard mobile. / you drift, but you know where you’re going. / no one has any dirt on you because you’re infinitely spotless. / the empty side of your bed they crawled into when they were nine. / court hearings. / I miss you. / siblings are a funny thing. / they point out every family-shaped hole in every picture on the mantelpiece. / blackbird screaming / wake in nightmares. / are you an illusion? / I don’t feel real.

[spiroamavi-blog]

vexsed:

@spiroamavi

    alex wasn’t entirely sure who matthew was — or was it russell  ?  james  ?  who cares  ? — nor him being twenty-one years of age apparently being everyone else’s business. unfortunately for him, however, roommate was hobnobbing with her college friends and besides her, he had no one else.

  it was a pity invite and alex was not above wallowing in self-pity.

 being taller than most was a benefit in many ways ; namely the ability to effectively weaponize his own shoulders in an effort to move every wobbly-footed, word-slurring, giggle-riddled party-goer whether they would have moved if he’d just asked, or not.

  get the snacks from the kitchen, the orders echo in his mind as he slid between bodies towards the weirdly dim lights and box piles. emerging through the door like a curious doe, he craned his neck around only to see an unhelpful, solitary fellow standing in front of his very objective.

   ❛ you mind moving  ? ❜

   For a few long moments of reprieve, the only noise in the kitchen had been the muffled blare of upbeat music and Theo’s own consistent chewing. It was miraculous really, but the inevitable intrusion of someone else finally pulled him out of his intoxicated rumination. Reacting to the question at his own leisurely pace, a sarcastic “Mm-Hmm.” caught in his throat beneath a mouthful of snack mix. As his head bobbed in a reinforcing nod, Theo’s slender frame rotated on the ball of his foot, coming to a halt once facing the person who’d addressed him.         Eyes landed on a chest, where he’d initially anticipated a face, but managed to find it once honey-colored irises flicked up just a smidge.         Oh. That face was familiar. He saw it every week!...but what was his name? Shit...

     The focus of trying to recall memory through a fogged brain relayed a bit too obviously on his face; lips parted and dark brows drew down sternly just before perking back up. If his smile her anymore animated, a sudden beaming lightbulb could have very well sprouted from his head. Ding!

     “Alex! Hey!” Any sentence of greeting stopped short as he made a quick attempt to cover the crude mess of snacks in his mouth, using a hand that was also already full of snacks.

[thequotejournals]

I have never known who or what I am supposed to be. The only thing I know for sure, is that I am supposed to be more than I have been.

William Chapman (via thequotejournals)

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