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Where: Alex’s apartment Who: & @xwickedsins

“Did I miss something?”

Nina stood in the doorway, leaning against the door-jam with her arms crossed over her chest. The apartment looked the same as she remembered it, except there was a suitcase open on the floor. The woman to whom she was speaking had her back turned, but it was unmistakably Alex Yuen. “Is everybody just showing back up now unannounced? No text? No call? No invitation to meet at the airport?”

Many of the Ivories had dispersed after Milena’s death, something that had undoubtably weakened them, but that’s what happened when a queen was killed. Nina couldn’t blame any of them - she had done the same thing, though she had arrived home before any of the others. It had been strange being in Montreal without many of the people she had grown up around, Alex included. “Did you bring me anything?”

#alex #alex01

Phillip had decided to slip away for a smoke break for the second time of the night. The sun had already set and the party seemed to be in full swing. He could hear a soft thumping of the bass coming from the lower deck behind him, but not clear enough to actually make out the song. Not that he minded. He brought the blunt to his lips and pulled hard, letting the smoke fill his lungs and linger there longer than necessary.

He could hear footsteps approaching the stern and he exhaled, a giant puff of smoke leaving him, and he used his free hand to try and wave it away and make it disappear before whoever it was could get there. His heart was pounding in his chest as he rushed to put it out the blunt on the end of his lighter. Phillip managed to do just that as an all too familiar figure graced the doorway. He clicked his tongue a little annoyed he freaked so much for nothing. “Jesus, Al, you scared the fuck out of me.” A relieved laugh escaped him as he flicked the lighter to reignite the unfinished blunt. “You want in?” // @alcxcvans

#-*Alex Evans*-#-*int: Alex*-#Alex01 #crownsvilleevent4 #drug use tw

@alexandervbarrett

peter dunn had a habit of zoning out as he walked. at first it was how he liked the sun on his face, but as the years progressed he became more curious about his surroundings and lost focus of the world around him. this day in particular peter couldn’t answer where in the world he was or how he couldn’t have seen the man that was walking towards him, or maybe perhaps past him. one thing led to another, maybe a pebble out of place and losing his balance, peter fell forwards grazing the other as he did. ‘oh crud--’ he groaned, and apart for a little scratch he was fine. ‘i’m so sorry! are you alright? didn’t hurt you, did i?’

#alex01 #now's ur chance to step on his face alex

tagging: @alexalvcrez

timeframe: 26.10

location: festival of frights

“You know what’s hotter than two hot bitches drinking cocktails? Two hot bitches doing karaoke. I don’t know where Kings is, but one glimpse of the two of us up there belting out a grande classic better than the queen herself, and there’s no way she’s gonna be able to stop herself from wanting to get in on our undeniable sexual chemistry. You in?”

#ftf: alex #alex01 #askmehalloween

mswhxre liked this

⊰☠⊱ — Heavy footsteps could be heard, black combat boots grazed the cold, hard ground-- trudging towards his room. The lights were off, meaning his roommates were either out or snoozing away in their own rooms. Taking a turn, his footsteps receded. Something felt off. A calloused hand hung midair, taking note on how the door to his room was cracked slightly open. Someone-- something had entered his private quarters without his knowledge while he was finishing up a handful of jobs. Pursed lips would twitch, carving downward-- a frown permeating his usually phlegmatic visage.

The deaf Tagged wasn't in possession of anything of any value, unless they counted his katana, but he always had the weapon on him-- so why else would they need from his room? His thick hand trailed towards the hilt of his katana as he nudged the door open with his boot, defenses up and ready to slice the goon who figured it was such a bright idea to get into his room. However, his muscles-- being loosened as his lips curved down to an angle, frowning once more. It seems some stray found it's way to his room and decided to use it as a scratch post, hence the torn up mattress, his tattered clothes, the clawed up walls, ceiling and floor, and the shredded pillows.

'Man, looks like I'm gonna have to swing by and get myself some new clothes... What a pain in the ass, man..'

However, he wasn't one to go shopping.. Especially in a place like the Hive. Hell, he wanted to skip anything related to passing through the cultural sector, since it's heavily decorated with lights and everything Christmas. A holiday of joy and cheer, apparently, but a certain disgruntled Tagged was feeling none of those. But he would have to, if he wanted something to wear tomorrow and the next day after that. One person came to mind to lend him a hand, a person who would probably know their way around with stores.