#axeattitude

[ja-bali]

@axeattitude:   sender lashes out at receiver when it isn't their fault.

it's early evening, the breeze coming from the open window mild enough to only warrant a longed sleeved cotton shirt — rolled up to his elbows to save the material from getting in the way of his work. calm, but focused, as he deftly cuts bull peppers on a chopping board. kerry is somewhere behind him, there is the tell tale scraping of a chair, a little humming and then silence, before some delicate balance breaks. he heard the tension in kerry's voice, he doesn't pretend otherwise; his hands falter, the cutting stops for a few seconds, but he very pointedly does not sigh. he will not make kerry feel as if he is a small child. slicing resumes, charon makes quick work of it until he leaves the vegetables in a bowl to marinate.

his breathing is even, the line of his shoulders is relaxed. charon settles a plate with some steaming thai style bread buns in front of kerry, a hand touching the slope of his shoulder, sliding up towards the nape of his neck and pressing gently there. it's brief, just a reassurance, a reminder that cold shoulders are not his way of dealing with problems. he doesn't like arguments, especially those where tempers are too thin to check one's words, so there will be time to talk about it, charon simply doesn't think it should be right now.

he settles down on a chair, not quite wishing to hover over him, then touches two fingers to the side of kerry's wrist, just under the thumb. instead of pressing for answers, he goes for a middle ground they are both familiar with.

'' you can help me with the chicken, if you want, but tell me if you like the bread first. i haven't tried this recipe before. ''

[curseplay]

@axeattitude gets a starter. 🖤

❝   okay, do me a solid and let me know if this sounds like a bad idea, ❞    they're almost manic as they speak, pacing back and forth, eventually hopping up on a futon and holding their hands out as if bracing him for what's to come. this should be indication enough that the idea probably isn't a GOOD one. still, paris has been sitting under a black cloud for so long that they can't really tell luck from misfortune anymore. that's why she needs a third party input, a third party who knows what he's doing. who's been around. a third party who will give it to her straight.

❝   —  picture this. i'm at a house party, alright ? a college shindig at some rich kid's place. i end up making out with this girl in a closet and think like, nothing of it. afterwards, i play around on guitar with someone else in the basement and get their number. they text me the next day and ask me to make their duo a trio, but when i go to meet them, their partner is the girl i made out with. and they're exes, ❞          paris leaves out the part of the story where they said an emphatic YES, I'LL JOIN YOUR BAND ! as that detail would take away from the advice part of kerry's reply.        ❝   is this like, gonna shape up to be an icarus kind of situation for me ? because i really wanna get out there, kerry. and this might be my best bet, ❞   

[ingolds-archived]

@axeattitude / sc.

     the bass thumps heavy in time with their heart, electronic accents jittering beneath their skin, and it's all theo can do not to turn right back around and walk out the door. the club scene certainly isn't their usual haunt, too many people pressed together in a space that's too small and too loud, but the emptiness of their apartment was starting to wear them down. this had been the next best alternative they could think of, and they carefully tilt their drink away from a group of people stumbling in front of them and towards the bar. they take a seat on one of the plush couches, and tilt their head in greeting towards the very large, very grim looking security detail standing just over kerry's shoulder. they can't remember his name, and they're not sure he remembers theirs, either, but at least he doesn't jump the couch and try to choke them just for sitting there. their stare drifts, landing on where kerry is reclined into plush cushions, rainbow bulbs lighting up one side of his face, then the other.

     “ i don't want to be alone tonight. ” they sip from their glass, teeth glinting when they offer a charming smile. “ need some company? ”

alone / alok, alott, apophis

[anarkissm]

night city is a worldly entity, bright and noisy in the center of the badlands. isolated from the desert, and all the bodies buried in the sand. jake had retreated from it, a self-made outsider, a princeling disowned by his wealthy father.

after five years, he returns to it, like a glutton for suffering. for his mother. for his little brother. jake tries not to think, this is a mistake. tries not to think about the fact that his father still refuses to speak to him.

again, jake retreats. this time, into the warm abode of a small, familiar coffee shop. he orders his beverage into a voice-automated kiosk. coffee. french roast, with dollops of honey.

but the barista hands him a completely different order. his name, jake, is scribbled on the cardboard cup.

“excuse me... sorry. i think our orders were mixed up,” he approaches the only other patron in the building, a man, a stranger.

  @axeattitude​ / plotted !

[rotalone]

“       i’m, like, really sorry about the meat - baggie thing   ...   totally uncool of me,       ”   a truly heart - felt apology, marred by the sound of teeth grinding into raw steak                   all bite - sized cubes, convenient for snacking, but uncomfortable for everyone else.   “       but, like, bro   ...   something tells me they’ve seen worse and shouldn’t be complaining too much, y’know   ???   like you’re telling me they draw the line at that ???       ”

@axeattitude       /       call.

[simulamortem]

@axeattitude​

This wasn’t the kind of work he usually accepted. He was a KILLER, not a bouncer, not a bodyguard. But the offer, in this case, entertained him enough that he took it. Maybe Eurodyne had only meant it as a JOKE. Too late now.

He wasn’t supposed to kill anybody. But Revenant didn’t let that take the wind out of his sails; he made the most of the night. It only took one INCIDENT of his lifting an offender by the throat for the rest of the partygoers to GET THE MESSAGE: no vandalism allowed. This was someone’s HOME, and they were merely GUESTS. Vulnerable guests, with all too breakable bones and flesh that was easily punctured. No amount of cyberware here compared to the simulacrum’s. Revenant wasn’t in his suit. Probably everyone took him for an especially high end, scary-looking security bot.

He played the part well enough. Even though he didn’t have access to the guest list like the real security bots, he could GUESS that someone had gotten in uninvited when he caught the glint of a gun under their jacket. He didn’t have time to hesitate. Revenant crossed the room in long, brisk strides, quick enough he couldn’t be certain if the cries of the crowd were because of how QUICKLY he moved or because of the GUNSHOT that rang out in almost the same instant, striking him in the chest just as he stepped in front of Eurodyne.

The sim barely flinched. If the shot had done any DAMAGE, it was impossible to tell yet, as Revenant advanced toward the gunman without breaking stride even as FEAR filled the skinbag’s face and prompted him to unload the rest of the chamber into his approaching, inevitable, tall, metal DEATH.

[dullahaunt]

@axeattitude

Vik flashes a corny thumbs up. "Never gets old."

It's loud. The crowd outside is still vibrating on full chatter, the entirety of the place ringing --- a tucked-away, condemned storage house, filled to the brim with cigarette smoke and the damp smell of sour sweat. A man screams all the lyrics to every song in False Terrorist. Kerry's a twin, two of him warped over Vik's glasses, the lights a dim, darkroom red.

Wild show. Crazy show. He crosses beneath the doorframe, backstage, VIP access. Courtesy of a mutual friend. He remembers her text.

Viky. Paid my debt in full… with interest. Don't say I never did you a favor. 

"Man of the hour. Heh. Can still hear 'em going." Vik smiles, moving in to pull him into a firm, hard handshake. His palm is balmy hot. "Better than I could've dreamed," he half-chuckles. "Closed shop beforehand --- Wouldn't've missed it for the world."

[sevient]

@axeattitude ❤️‘d

     “ sometimes i look at the stars. ”

     they twinkle and gleam above them, tiny dots cast around the moon’s glow like a halo, and OR-10N is enraptured by them, by all the mysteries he has not solved. knowledge comes as easy to him as breathing does to humans, but there are curious gaps in his files, like a disc skipping scenes as it tries to play a movie. he can name the constellations, the planets that glow constant between gases flickering out, can even describe in minute detail what happens when a sun swallows its own orbit - and little else. not what may be out there, which requires imagination, and not how to reach the far corners of the universe, which requires guesswork.

     kerry is quiet beside him, face awash with the orange light flickering at the end of his cigarette, and OR-10N tips his chin down just slightly, enough to move his vision from the sky to the long stretch of empty road ahead of them. bass thrums nearby, pushing at his feet, his skull, but he does not move to draw them further from the club’s entrance.

     “ i think about how small we are. ”

the killers, pressure machine