#80scool

[jambananacalm]

Talk about a 'Golden Triangle'

[hermancarcter-moved]

@80scool​

The  message,  ‘We’re  fucking  right?’  is  left  promptly  on  received,  the  doctor  leaning  back  in  his  chair,  leather  squeaking  lowly  as  he  does  so.  If  Fabron  wants  to  know,  he  can  find  out.  Some  patience  would  serve  the  man  well...  but  perhaps  that’s  projection  as  Carter  looks  at  his  wristwatch.  How  long  does  it  take  a  man  to  smoke?  

Daniel’s  previous  and  far  more  intriguing  question  drifts  across  his  mind  once  more  as  he  straightness  the  row  of  pens  on  his  desk  absently.  Did  he  feel  ‘right’  at  the  end  of  his  life?  The  question  itself  relies  heavily  on  the  interpretation  of  the  word  ‘right’.  In  fact,  he  cannot  identify  a  time  in  his  life  that  felt  completely  correct.  He  isn’t  certain  he  can  answer  the  question  period.  A  string  of  drool  is  wiped  from  his  lip,  eyes  swiveling  in  contemplation  as  the  door  to  his  office  swings  open.  Not  stooping  so  low  as  to  appear  eager,  Carter  does  not  turn  immediately.  

“You  smell  putrid.  Where  have  you  been  sleeping?”  If  it’s  the  meat  factory,  Herman  may  just  slip  into  a  coma.  

[richardtrager]

@80scool​ said: ❝ I stabbed a guy in the ear once. Ice pick, right in his fucking ear. ❞

     What a NEAT pickup line. Original, a little weird.... goes well with the whole nighttime party drug vibe. He can never tell if this guy is joking or not. Truth be told, he doesn’t care either way. Richard, instead of responding immediately, raises his eyebrows and nods, taking another snort of blow off of the dash of his car. “Hell of a confession Danny. Good for you, buddy... seemed like you enjoyed it, eh?” 

“Y’know, that accent of yours... is it fake? Don’t lie to me man, I wanna know.” The executive asks lackadaisically, pupils wide from the snow twitching to look him over. 

[hermancarcter-moved]

(80scool) haha haha hey what r u doing later ;)

                      ❝  YOU. ❞

[hermancarcter-moved]

@80scool​ said: "What's cooking in the lab, Dr Mad?"

                       N O .

   Herman's  shoulder's  rise  in  what  can  only  be  described  as  a  cringe.  It  runs  through  his  spine,  rattling  within  his  chest.  The  pen  clutched  in  his  hand  nearly  snaps,  vibrating  with  the  electricity  of  an  unsettled  Carter.  He  knows  precisely  who  is  hovering  in  the  doorway  to  his  office.  He  can  SMELL  him.  Herman  does  not  bother  to  turn.

Once  a  day...  at  the  very  least,  this  putrid  creature  of  a  man  decides  that  it  is  absolutely  imperative  to  aggravate.

"Stop.  Saying.  That...  Daniel."

[hermancarcter-moved]

@80scool said:  "All romance ends in despair. or death. but mostly despair. gut-wrenching despair." maybe some PRE dbd- still alive dan n herman ??? 

       The  doctor  had  gasped  quietly  as  he  was  pulled  by  an  unknown  force  into  a  side  closet  off  the  hall,  scoffing  immediately  after  as  to  cover  his  momentary  shock  and  express  his  displeasure  simultaneously.  Upon  seeing  the  source,  it  his  Carter  who  closes  the  door  behind  them,  leaving  only  thick  darkness.  Chest  to  chest,  inches  from  Fabron,  Herman  can  feel  his  breath  on  his  lips.  It’s  both  alluring  and  disgusting,  much  like  the  man  himself.  He  smells  of  cigarettes  and  a  hint  of  metal.  Herman  has  his  suspicions  that  the  scent  is  in  fact  blood.  That  is  yet  to  be  confirmed.  

                      “How  poetic.” 

 Daniel  hadn’t  interrupted  his  routine  just  to  whisper  sweet  nothings  in  the  shell  of  his  ear,  had  he?  That  would  be  utterly  disappointing.  But,  it  seemed  that  ANY  chance  to  disturb  him  was  a  good  one  in  Fabron’s  mind.  

                                   “Are  you  going  to  leave  me  with  despair  then?  Or  are  you  going  to  murder  me  in  this  closet?”  Herman’s  voice  is  flat,  as  stale  as  the  air  around  them.  

The  irony  of  their  situation  isn’t  lost  on  Carter.  Fabron  and  Carter,  in  a  closet.  He  can  practically  hear  the  accusatory  tones  of  his  idiot  colleges.  If  it  were  funny,  he  would  laugh.  If  it  comes  to  that...  they  can  be  made  to  forget.  

It  is  entirely  tempting  to  rush  the  man  before  him,  comment  on  how  BUSY  he  is.  How  important  the  work  he’s  doing  is...but  he  airs  on  the  side  of  patience  out  of  curiosity.  Curiosity  is  a  private  matter  and  for  once...  they’ve  found  privacy.  

[razorwiires]

(80scool) "We lead, we push, we die- as is life. Your short life was not so bad if it means you ended up here, my friend." Uh oh

@80scool

Brows furrow, confusion and disdain marring her features. "What the fuck are you talking about? This is a punishment. You get that, right? We’re here because we fucked up.”

[foppishmuses]

(80scool) KICK !!

"Augh! Jesus!"

Dwight stumbled and fell flat on his ass, clutching his stomach. He wanted to lay on the ground in the fetal position until the pain lessened, but danger was ringing in his senses. This guy was huge. Considering the kick had been entirely unprovoked, Dwight didn't want to stick around and give him the chance to do worse damage. One hand still holding his pained stomach, Dwight held his other hand up, palm out and empty. "L-Look. We don't need to fight," he said. "See? I'm no threat. I'm just gonna be on my way."