May 30, 2024
"Late night or early morning?" he asks, bending down to retie one of his shoes. "Or is sleep just not your thing?"
@5chmidt // sc !
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"Late night or early morning?" he asks, bending down to retie one of his shoes. "Or is sleep just not your thing?"
@5chmidt // sc !
@5chmidt liked for a starter!
very little unsettles the agent; blend would shrug it off, say that it’s parr of the course of her occupation, but years of being cooped up in a house too small with two adults practically chomping at the bit in hopes to find an excuse to rid of each other, in a town too small to recognise its own toxicity meant that blend had learnt all too quickly that everything's not all it seems. and that was before the obsession with the supernatural and the creatures that went bump in the night started, so it’s safe to say that whatever is causing that feeling ( a feeling she knows oh-too-well, and has long since made bed friends with ), that’s causing her hair to stand up on end is definitely not something to take lightly.
trusty torch is swung behind then, earthy orbs quickly searching the growing dark behind them before sparing a glance at their company, as grasp tightens slightly on the lights metal casing, ❛ - —you sure we’re not being followed? ❜
❝ .... - why did you SCREAM like that ? ❞
⭑ ⠀ˢᵀᴬᴿᵀᴱᴿ ᶜᴬᴸᴸ. · ⠀ ༒ ⠀ ͟⠀ . ⊰ 5chmidt ⭑ ╱ ˖ ⋆ ࿐໋
" hey , i get it . i've been unemployed before . "
@5chmidt // sc
@5chmidt
"The pizza isn't necessarily better in Italy," he says, always eager to brag that look at me, look at me, I've travelled the world. "But this is some of the worst I've had in this country."
@5chmidt
<<I can show you how to shoot,>> she boasts, looking more than a little smug.
<<I know I'm probably not supposed to.>> On account of her age, her gender, her labkid status, her abilities. <<But my brother showed me how, and I can show you, too.>>
“ should i be concerned about why there’s blood in the sink? ”
𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐩 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐤𝐧𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐞, until their fingers and tendons ache -- like the subtle protest ﹠ groans of some forlorn and dilapidated building, abandoned and shuddering on the horizon. their edges are harsh against the give of the couch, leg bouncing incessantly -- words are being spoken but the vacant expression as they stare through the coffee table is a dead giveaway on their focus ( 𝘰𝘳 𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘰𝘧 )
it takes a moment, but they're finally dragged from their thoughts. blinking owlishly for a moment before responding. weary brown eyes fluttering a moment in recognition. -- ( 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘱𝘪𝘥 ! 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 ! )
❝ huh? - no! - it's [ . . . ] y - you don't need t'worry about that it's - it's just uh. ❞
just what? 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐯𝐨𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐅𝐚𝐳𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐄𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭? [ . . . ] 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝐲𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐢𝐭 ? their words fall short, lacking authority as they turn away. makeshift bandage wound around their palm tightly twinging at the edges, a dull ache settling against the flesh of their hand as they drive their thumb into the wrapped wound absentmindedly.
❝ I had [ . . . ] an accident? ❞ 𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐑. and they were always such a bad one at that !
❛ 𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘤𝘤𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘵 ❜ -- a claim falsified to void themselves of telling the bitter truth. something metal and cruel and sharp, lashing out at them, in the dimly lit room.
° ˈ· • [ 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙼𝙿𝚃 ] . . . accepting !
❝ hm ..... if you win me a PRIZE from the claw machine , then maybe i’ll say yes. ❞
━━ 𝕬 ． ⌗ ﹕ 5chmidt ⌑ ﹒ ⵓ 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥.