#apostic

[gospelofguilt]

Continued from here

@apostlc​

      Immediately, the cameraman’s eyes fixate on the man next to him, head turning slowly to follow and eventually match his gaze. Man, not being. Blake doesn’t see an entity next to him at all. Can he feel it? Does he sense it coming, invading his mind in the dead of night, brushing against his skin with the draft coming in through boarded windows? Yes, but that is not who Miles is. At least, not yet. Could the thing within consume him? Blake supposes it’s entirely possible, but something tells him Miles is too proud, sturdy in himself to let it happen.

     His response is a moment that Blake could feel himself recording. There’s no camera in sight but his mind does just as well... for better or for worse. The emotion behind his eyes was, honestly, much more interesting than the response itself. The agitation and defensive words are startling and not at all something he wants to have saved. He may delete the recording... if given the chance. When he asked the question, it wasn’t intended to be something severe. He might as well have been talking to himself. It wouldn’t be unheard of, would it? Blake spends a lot of time casting thoughts, thoughts that are meant to be private, into the open air for those in the group to observe... use. It isn’t something he’s doing on purpose.

All else aside, gods are a sore subject... for most people. Funny how that works, right? Some source of comfort.

     An apology is quickly forming somewhere, but they all seem too shallow. His apologies usually are. Not due to any lack of depth but because of the fact that no one ever taught him how to do it. He knows how to repent on paper, but that’s never good enough. Not for real people. You repent to gods, not to Miles Upshur.

     The apology vanishes on his tongue before it can hit the cool evening air. “My cup of tea?” Blake nods, a grimace like smile not far behind, distancing himself from the conversation already. “I think I’ve dealt with enough divinity to last me well past a lifetime. And you know...” He can feel it now. Something about to burst. Choose your words carefully Blake.

“You may have ‘it’ in a sense that no one can truly understand, but we’re all suffering for it. We all have it, don’t we?” He points to his head, tempted to ask the man to look around him... at the people in their company.

[thekillerstory]

RANDOM ENCOUNTER // ALWAYS ACCEPTING

@apostlc​ begged;

"do you believe me now when i say that maybe, maybeee we’re both demon proof?"

             Let it be known that Jed ENJOYED his small talks with Miles. HE LIKED MILES, the way the man spoke, the way he FOUGHT to make his point known. It always caused a GRIN to crawl over the journalist face, meeting the eyes and reviling the teeth. Today was no different, as they sat across from one another in the small café. The light rustle of conversation, mixing with the smell of coffee. It was a NICE spot where they met whenever Jed was in town, which ... Wasn’t as OFTEN these days. His work becoming more and more DELICATE, that he had to travel FURTHER out for better jobs. So he says, at least.

At the question, Jed hummed into his drink. Soft and SWEET, in acknowledgment of the others efforts, “ You thank it’s a journalist thing? “ He chuckled softly at the thought, already KNOWING the two men crafted a story VERY differently. He placed his cup aside, “ Ya know. Like ah journalist's curse. We gotta live ta tell the story. “