For Dexterity because that’s a cool ass name and I’m jelly. 43, 65, 11, 89
11. Do you have any strange phobias?
No.
43. Do you have any nicknames?
Dex is pretty much the only one I’ve got. Unless you want to count the various things I’ve been called in bed.
65. Give me your top 5 blogs on Tumblr.
I don’t think you really want to know that, darling. ;)
89. What would be a question you’d be afraid to tell the truth on?
Oh, no, *chuckle* you’re not tricking me that easily. If I tell you you’ll want to know the truth and you already know that I’m going to lie to you. And I don’t think it’s going to end well for either of us.
Dexterity since they got a cool name and hmmmm MUSIC
ooooooo interesting
1. They know how to play the violin. Only a couple classical pieces of music from Bach & Mozart but it’s still a thing. Their parents very passive-aggressively pushed them into learning it when they were very young. And because this knowledge is associated with their parents Dexterity keeps it a secret.
2. They think Creep by Radiohead is highly over-rated.
3. Drumming came unusually natural to them. Playing the violin was harder due to the rigid posture needed to be kept in order to play well. The fill ins and solos that's often integral to drumming gave them more freedom, and space within the music, to improvise. Also doing dumb tricks with their sticks is a plus.
4. They can’t stand Christmas music.
5. One of their guilty pleasure genres of music is southern rock.
Notes: I tried my best but writing’s hard... Idk how I feel about this... As always The Cyber World belongs to @voiceoflarka
Summary: Dexterity Burrows goes back home only to endure very uncomfortable, and forced, interaction with their parents. Afterwards they head to the nearest bar for some well-deserved down time. Click the read more if you like.
~~~
They had purposely parked on a side street. The driveway to their childhood home was long so it was possible for them to go unnoticed. But there was also the possibility that their parents would use that to their advantage. Both their mother and father had done so in the past. If they were honest with themselves they'd admit that they didn't want to chance it.
Dexterity Burrows currently stood outside of their car, which was a red Shelby GT500, leaning against the side of the hood by the front tire. Staring at the ground they thought things over again. Maybe they should just leave. Nobody would know. There wouldn't be any guilt or anger. Nothing bad would happen. But they wouldn't forgive themselves if they left without at least a short hello. As they thought about it their legs carried them along the sidewalk and all the way to the front gate.
And now they were walking up the lengthy driveway.
After ten or so minutes they reached the front door.
The large, ornate, gold plated knocker loomed ominously from the face of the door. An angry scowl stared them down from the demonic face. Two large and curved horns sat on either side of its head. Its eyes were deep recesses carved into the metal. That detail made the creature all the more terrifying. The handle of the door knocker hung from the demon’s clenched teeth. The very bottom of the handle was more oval shaped and was carved into the shape of two identical fleurs-de-lis which both lay horizontally.
Dexterity grabbed the handle and knocked twice.
Their mother opened the door not five minutes later.
Felony Burrows was always the epitome of a trophy wife. She had impeccable looks and long, luscious, chocolate brown hair. Her eyes were an olive green. Butterscotch veins ran along her skin. Red lipstick colored her lips; accentuating the shape. She wore a stylish two-tone dress with full length sleeves. The right side of the dress was a dark navy while the left was a sky blue. A white belt ran along her waist.
Her unwavering poise was broken by the clear shock in her eyes.
"Dexterity--I, we--we weren't expecting you. This is quite the surprise."
They smiled and crossed the threshold before she bade them enter. As the thick rubber soles of their boots landed on the white tile their mother slowly closed the door. She turned around to scrutinize her child. Her eyes flattened to small slits and her lips pursed together in intense thought. She rested her chin on her pointer finger and thumb.
“Looking as horrid as ever I see.”
They scoffed; “I don’t dress to please you, mother. I dress the way I like.”
In fact, Dexterity wasn’t wearing anything different from what they’d wear on a normal day. Head to toe black. Black combat boots that stopped an inch or two above their ankle. The laces were untied and shoved in the boots. The tongue was pushed out a bit so that it appeared taller than the boots themselves. They wore a black tattered t-shirt with a white pentagram and the phrase “sinners are winners” on it. They also wore a dark gray leather jacket. Somewhat distressed black skinny jeans covered their legs.
A half moon shaped silver earring dangled from their right ear. The facade of the metal was engraved to look like a skull.
“Your father and I were just sitting down for lunch. Care to join us?”
Dexterity shrugged; “I can’t stay long.”
Their mother laughed, deep and full of disbelief, “What on earth could you possibly have to do?”
They didn’t say anything. It was pointless to try and argue with her. She was the kind of person who would say whatever would hurt you the most. No matter what it was or if she was given the information in confidence. Dexterity had been on the receiving end of her vicious words many times.
The two of them entered the dining room without a word. Their mother went straight to the opposite end of the table and sat down. She went straight back to eating seemingly without a care. Dexterity’s father, Raleigh, calmly asked who was at the door. She told him and he grunted a stern hello to Dexterity.
“Won’t you sit down, dear,” their mother said sweetly. “You must be starved. Have you been eating well?”
"Please," they said with an obvious annoyance. "Don't pretend you ever gave a shit about me, mother."
Felony Burrows gave her child a harsh look over her wine glass. Her dark brows furrowed and her nose crinkled.
“How dare you,” she said viciously.
Angrily setting her glass down on the table she shot them a deadly glare. She didn’t raise her voice but there was no need to. Her tone, harsh and cold, was enough. It was the tone Dexterity had heard her use many times. It was the voice she put on when she wanted her words to be heeded. When she wanted to be respected and feared.
“After everything your father and I have done for you? We gave you a home, food in your stomach, and clothes on your back. You never need or want for anything.”
“We could’ve left you in the Nursery like your poor, disgusting, friend.”
Dexterity laughed.
“Emery is a better person than the two of you ever could be. But, this is between you and me. Leave him out of this, mother.”
She scoffed, shocked and appalled, and looked in between her child and her husband. Raleigh Burrows sat at the opposite end of the table with his head down. He was staring at his tablet; reading something. Knowing him it was either company emails or company stock records.
He wore a plain, mottled gray, vest over a black dress shirt. The top of the shirt was unbuttoned to the part where both halves of the vest met. Both of the long sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. His dark pants matched the vest and he wore dark black dress shoes. Large, triangular, blue ears emerged from the top of his head. His black hair was combed back. The sideburns grayed slightly at the edges. A puff of cream colored fur poked out from the unbuttoned top of his shirt. His eyes were a bright, bold, red. Except for the right eye which darkened considerably due to the large wisp of navy blue soul that flowed from that eye. His skin was lined with the same navy colored veins.
Felony cleared her throat and said; “Dear, would you care to tell Dexterity why they shouldn’t say such things?”
“Oh fuck you!”
He set his tablet down with a sigh.
“Stop swearing at your mother. We raised you better than that.”
“First she brings Emery into this conversation, like this has anything to do with him, and then she...”
“You seem very stressed,” he said; cutting them off. “Is something wrong?”
“Yes, there is. I came here to visit and the both of you are acting like I never left. You don’t care at all.”
“Don’t think that, that simply isn’t true,” Raleigh said.
As he spoke Dexterity could feel their anger dissipating. The disgust that had been rising in their gut since stepping foot in the house was becoming an afterthought. Each shred of emotion was turning into something else. They knew what he was doing but they didn’t know how to stop it. After years of this they were still unable to resist his powers.
"Now, don't you feel better?"
Dexterity nodded; "Yes."
"Don't you have something to say to your mother?"
Again an unstoppable change in their emotion overtook them. They could feel the calm shift inside. Overwhelming waves of shame and regret slammed into them. A physical knot formed in their chest. They knew it was there. They could feel it.
"Sorry. I... I'm so sorry. I promise I won't do that again."
"Good, now sit down," Raleigh said with a nod of approval.
With that he sat back in his chair and returned to reading. Every so often he would take a sip of wine. He stayed silent for quite some time.
Dexterity calmly sat in the chair on the left side of the table. A plate of food had been brought out at some point in the argument. When they had no idea. They stared at their plate. They knew that if they tried to leave now things would only get worse. Their mother would make a scene and their father would make them stay. Even worse he'd make them want to stay and feel bad for thinking of leaving. They ate the food so as not to cause another fight.
The family of three sat in awkward silence for the rest of their lunch.
“So,” their father said after the plates were cleared away. “How long do you plan on staying with us?”
“What?”
“I believe you heard me,” Raleigh replied. He leaned back in his chair and brought his fingers together. With a serious, strangely almost concerned, look he asked; “Unless your friend’s horrible so-called singing made you go deaf?”
“I’m not staying,” they grumbled.
“What?” their mother exclaimed.
Dexterity knew that her surprise was completely fake, but, their father somehow was never able to see through it. He always jumped at every cry, or shock she endured, ready to help. He usually used his powers to help alleviate the situation but never in the way one would think. Raleigh always went for the supposed aggressor. And more often than not Dexterity was the cause of her emotional distress. For whatever reason she got off on having her husband manipulate their child. Or the control she got from having to do practically nothing. Either way in Dexterity found it very disgusting.
“It seems like your mother wants you stay,” Raleigh said.
They gave their father a harsh glare.
“This again?” they said; interrupting his manipulation.
“If your mother wants you to stay longer, then, maybe you should. After all, you haven’t visited us in a very long time.”
“Yeah,” they scoffed. “This is why. A person can only take so fucking much emotional manipulation, after all.”
Raleigh stood up from his chair and walked over to where they sat.
He stared Dexterity down as if they were a scuff on his newly shined shoes. It was a look of utter hatred and disgust. But Dexterity returned the angry glare right back. The two remained like that for a good five minutes. Then a strange, satisfied, smirk slowly crept its way on Raleigh’s face.
Unable to resist Dexterity suddenly stood up, with tears in their eyes, and hugged their father. Crying and shaking they apologized over and over again. They profusely apologized to their mother as well. Still overcome with regret and sadness they disavowed everything they believed in. Dexterity pulled away from their father and stood firm. Their bottom lip quivered as they begged for his forgiveness. Begged to be allowed to move back in with them. They vowed to quit the band and become their father’s intern. Once again they were the little kid, sobbing, exploited and dominated into doing exactly what their parents wanted.
Raleigh had made them do all of this without uttering a single word.
They didn’t realize what happened until they sat back down.
With that being the last straw Dexterity aggressively slammed their hands on the table and pushed their chair away. The legs of the chair loudly scratched along the floor. They stomped out of the house. As they made the long trek back to their car they stewed. They only felt better when they were finally in the car; turning the key.
Should've listened to yourself, you fucking dummy, their conscious scolded as they shifted the car into drive.
They knew exactly what they were going to do next.
Who was the real mystery.
~~~
Dexterity drove around aimlessly for awhile. They hadn’t been back home in such a long time that they weren’t sure where anything was anymore. But they eventually found their way to a local bar.
“Fucking finally,” they muttered to themselves.
They walked through the door and went straight for the bar.
A very tall, very buff, looking man was bartending. He had dark auburn red hair. It was slightly shorter on the sides than the top which was spiked up. He wore the, seemingly, standard uniform; black jacket over a gray top and black pants. The only part of his outfit which looked out of place were the round sunglasses on his face. Bright periwinkle veins poked out from his collar and shirt sleeve.
He was currently handing a drink over to the only one other virus at the bar.
She was a pale skinned woman with long, dark, brown hair. Purple dye colored the ends. She had bright yellow eyes. Her ears were sharply pointed at the top. Two curved horns protruded from the middle of her skull. They curved outward to either side of her head and curved around her ears before coming to a sharp point. A silver cuff covered a portion of the left horn; just below her ear lobe.
A series of bees were tattooed on the left side of her neck.
She gave Dexterity a nod as they sat down at the first empty bar stool.
They ordered a Death in the Afternoon and looked around the room as the drink was being made. The bar had a strange atmosphere. Most of the patrons were crowded near the back of the building. Dexterity craned their neck in a futile attempt to see what was occupying everyone’s attention. But the sheer number of bodies blocked their view. So they gave up and ran their eyes over the shelves behind the bar.
Bottles with strange names lined the shelves. Names they didn’t recognize. Some were very long laundry lists of nonsensical letter combinations.
Their drink was set on the bar and Dexterity barely noticed the woman move to the stool on their left.
"Haven't seen you around here," the woman said.
"Not really in this area much. Don't plan on staying long."
"That's too bad," she said. "I'd really like to get to know you."
Dexterity looked at her and decided to lay on the charm. It was what they did best after all. Their father could change and affect a person’s entire array of emotions and had a good handle on everything. But they could only affect one specific area; desire.
“In what way,” they asked.
“I think you know exactly what way,” she said.
“What’s your name, sweetheart?"
“Xylophone, but, most people call me Xy.”
“You should join us, big boy,“ they said to the bartender.
The man’s face went red. He tried to explain that they both of them had to work, but, it was useless. When Dexterity wanted a good time, or to block out a bad one, they made someone else want the same. Dexterity smiled seductively which only caused the man to blush even harder. He reached out to touch their hand, needing to feel their skin against his own, but Dexterity quickly pulled their hand.
“Soon.”
~~~
Hours later, well into the night, the three of them were laying on a queen sized bed. They had rented a room in a nearby hotel thanks to Dexterity’s father’s credit card. The thick, black and silver, comforter lay in a heap on the floor. As did some of the abundant pillows. Open bottles from the mini bar lay strewn about.
Dexterity stared at the ceiling with a shit-eating grin on their face.
They were in the middle of the bed with the bartender on their left. He was actually half on the bed and half on them; struggling for their affections. Xylophone was on their right. Hurried and without any regard tossed about the floor, mixed in with one another, were their clothes. It was pretty obvious which ones belonged to Xylophone as she was the only one who didn’t wear all black.
Not to mention the pair of bright, cerulean, blue panties that somehow hung off the lampshade across the room.
To no one’s surprise the bartender had enough energy and need to go again. He kept whispering sweet nothings, and very dirty words, in Dexterity’s ear. They ignored his advances. Truth of the matter was that so could they, but, the third member of their little ménage a trois seemed uneasy.
Xylophone sat up and stared off with a strange expression of mixed emotions. It was clear that something was wrong because their powers, which were still active, didn’t seem to be affecting her. They turned it off and the big, muscular, bartender collapsed onto them. It was as if the only thing that had kept him awake after.
Shoving the hulking man off of them Dexterity convinced him to give them some space. The guy begrudgingly climbed off the bed, pulled his pants on, and walked out of the room.
“Hey, you okay?” they asked once it seemed that guy was out of earshot.
“I lied earlier,” she said with an intense guilt.
“Everybody lies, darling,” they replied. “If I was honest I’d say I do it all the time.”
She didn’t laugh at the lame joke. Dexterity didn’t either but it was worth a try. She turned away and brought her knees to her chest. Looking down at the floor Xylophone stays quiet for a few minutes. The silence in the room was eerie. Unsure of what to do, and completely out of their element, Dexterity just sat there.
Comforting people, or staying this long after sex, was not their style.
Looking to the door they hoped the bartender guy, whatever his name was, would just barge in. Or that the room would spontaneously catch fire. Even getting a drunken call from the guys would do. Anything that would be a good reason to not have this conversation.
“I didn’t want to know you at all,” she said; still staring at the floor.
“Me neither,” they said.
Xylophone shot them an angry look. They then realized that what they said was the complete wrong to say at a time like this. She sighed; half angry and half sad. Running her hands through either side of her hair she closed her eyes tightly and grit her teeth.
“You don’t get it, do you?” she spit. “The bar, my outfit, my fucking lingerie... Did you really not see it? Or are you that desperate to get some?”
The realization hit them like a brick to the face. It was unexpected and hurt like hell. Their mouth hung open in a small “o” and they felt so stupid. The bar was a strip club which explained why most of the people inside were near the back. But it was crazy to think it was fronting sex workers. At the same time Dexterity thought that Xylophone had no real reason to lie. Despite their better judgment they spoke.
“Why do you do it?”
“What would you do?” she said with a serious look in her eyes.
“Do about what?”
Tears began flowing from her eyes. She tried to wipe them away but they continued to run down her face. Her makeup, some of which had previously from her sweat, was now ruined. Streaks of black eyeliner and mascara lined her face. Every time she wiped her nose she would accidentally take off her lipstick.
“For you this is just a good time but for me this is what I call life,” she cried through her tears.
“How much?”
“What?” she asked between sniffles.
In a half response to her question Dexterity got off the bed and rummaged through the mess of clothes. Turning the clothing items over in their hands they felt around for something unseen. Angrily tossing the clothes over their shoulder they finally found the pair of jeans they wore earlier in the day. Digging their hand into the rear left pocket they felt the cool plastic of their father’s credit card.
They held it up with a smirk.
“How much to get you out?”
Xylophone’s eyes went wide. She stammered; shocked beyond belief.
“It’s not fair that you have to do this to survive, to live,” they said.
“Nothing’s that simple.”
“And why not? If someone can pay to spend a night with you then why can’t I pay to make sure you’ll never need to do that ever again.
“Money can’t solve everything, Richie Rich,” she said.
Dexterity stood in the middle of the room; frozen. In that moment they felt disgusted with themselves. They had tried their entire life to prevent themselves from becoming this exact person. But they still came off as a patronizing rich elitist. She ran her hand through her hair and got off the bed. She walked across the room and picked her panties off the lampshade. Xylophone pulled her underwear on before grabbing her matching bra off the floor. She quickly pulled her shirt over her head.
The bartender walked in, just as she finished buttoning her shorts, and approached Dexterity with fiery anger.
“You little shit! You’re dead, you’re so fucking dead.”
Dexterity said nothing. They didn’t hear a word the man was saying. And they couldn’t care less. But Xylophone walked up and put a hand on the man’s shoulder.
“Leave them, we have to go back to work,” she said.
The door slammed as the pair exited. Dexterity sighed heavily and ran their hands through their short, buzzed, hair. An intense feeling of disgust filled their gut as they paced the floor. Looking around the room they decided it was best to leave. So, they dressed themselves as quickly as they could and left the room. It didn’t take long for them to head to the front desk. With barely a few words they checked out of the room.
Rushing to the parking lot they hopped in the driver’s seat of their GT500 and gunned it out onto the street.
They made a silent vow to themselves that they would never come back.
