#explosivefitzpatrick

[i-want-to-take-the-ears-off-blog]

A twitch of his his eye and Kyle knew he'd lost it. He could help it, he didn't know how to stay so still for mister Cohen. He moved his arm a little, trying to relaxed in the awfully lewd pose. But that one movement caused him to lose balance and he fell crashing to the floor. "I'm sorry." He began before looking up, terrified at what his mentor would do.

Sander gritted his teeth as he watched his pupil fall onto the floor in a flurry of awkward limbs. The canvas rattled with impact while his paintbrush was jostled and a line was scratched across the painting. “FITZPATRICK! Must I explain to you the importance of standing still?!  How am I to paint when you insist on moving?” Cohen snapped as he threw his paintbrush down and moved past the body on the floor to stand by the window. The eerie blue of the ocean water caused the shadows to twist his visage into something inhuman, menacing. Anger bubbled and threatened to burst as Sander exhaled sharply before pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. After a moment of silence, Sander turned back to look at his disciple and with a graceful motion of his wrist, motioned for Kyle to pick himself up. “Once more Fitzpatrick. And this time, do take care not to mess up” Sander spoke with a clipped tone and a thinly veiled threat woven into his words. 

[technicianthompson-blog]

✿ -- explosivefitzpatrick

7: firm kiss

The boy was talking. Again. Or had he even stopped from the last time? It sure didn’t feel like it. As though Daniel would be caught forever in the mindless drivel that the other continued to allow to pour from his lips. At least those were a distraction.

The technician wasn’t entirely sure how much he’d had to drink before now. Never the less how much he’d drank since the pianist had started talking. Did Dan even really look like a man who would enjoy listening to a scrawny pianist talk? Apparently he did. But back to the boys lips. He really did have perfect lips didn’t he? That was probably the real reason that Rabbit Ass kept him around. Because whatever those lips could do must be sinful. Combined with dexterous fingers from instrument playing and… there went his mind. Straight back to the gutter where it usually could be found.

"Are you even listening?”

No. But Dan didn’t bother saying it. Just leaned over and pressed his lips firmly against the performers. One of them tasted like cheep alcohol. Maybe both of them. Dan couldn’t be certain. Had only enough sense to grab the back of Kyle Fitzpatrick’s neck when the boy tried to lean back in shock.

"You were talking?" He finally whispered against sinful lips. He should kiss him again. At least that’s what his alcohol infused mind said. Dan couldn’t help but agree.

[kingofrapture]

✿ -- explosivefitzpatrick

send me a ✿ and i’ll generate a number -- 12. ghost kiss

There was a sort of shrieking noise and something appeared before him. It was one of Cohen’s disciples— Kyle, he thought it was— and he was screaming. He blinked, surely the apparition had to be something he’d imagined, he couldn’t really be here. The spectre appeared just as surprised as he was, however, and he looked around the room in terror, gazing through his arms as though he didn’t know what had happened. Ryan felt such pity for him, there, that he hardly knew what he was doing. He leaned forward, pressing his lips against the air in an attempt to comfort the boy however he could. He felt the cold press back against his, and when he opened his eyes, he was alone. 

[i-want-to-take-the-ears-off-blog]

۵ my muse kisses yours to shut them up

He was pacing again. Sander’s pacing was only reserved for when his muse hadn’t visited in a few days, and Kyle wondered how long it had been this time. Sander’s hand cupped his chin as he kept burning a hole in the stage with his pacing. But it wasn’t in Kyle’s job description to question his mentor, so he sat at the piano and kept practicing.

"Fitzpatrick! Please, can’t you see that I am trying to create?!" snapped Sander as the sounds of the piano were too much for him to handle on top of his thoughts. Kyle noted he must’ve ran his hands through his hair because the thinning raven locks stuck up in all directions and paired with his makeup, he looked funny so Kyle had to bite his lip in an attempt to avoid his ire.

"Sorry Mr. Cohen" Kyle said obediently as Sander continued to pace. "My muse has been gone for far too long! What good is an artist when they can no longer create?" Sander said dramatically as he threw his arms around. "There is no more room in Rapture for the artist" he said as he began to sob loudly.

Kyle at this point had it with Sander’s worrying and, taking a huge risk, got up and walked over to Cohen. His hands met Sander’s arms and he spun his mentor around but before Cohen could open his mouth to berate his pupil, Kyle had pressed his lips to Sander’s and was thankful for the moment of silence before Kyle pulled away.

"Fitzpatrick! Fetch me my easel and canvas! She has returned, oh my wonderful muse has returned" exclaimed Sander as his face lit up while he ushered Kyle out of his sight.

Well, a happy Cohen was much better than the overly dramatic artist he had seen moments before, Kyle surmised. 

[hxcuspocus-archived-blog]

GOD! He was once the best pianist in all of rapture, now! now! He was trapped, plastered to his own piano and being tortured to play, but when Cohen was away, that was when it all got a hell of a lot worse. A god damn splicer would hang around, tormenting and teasing him, ohhh it was fan-fucking-tastic, Kyle would of been happier dead, but the splicer didn't seem to want to harm him. As the lights shut off, for another end day Kyle could here the swoosh of the oncoming splicer.

                                             Tormenting only meant worth if the                                                   person were harmed, right?

        It didn’t seem to be too misleading or terrible if Peter Rabbit simply visited one of the most notorious pianists in Rapture, would it? Maybe a little solo clapping from the audience here and there, he’d never actually come into view.                                                                             Until today, that is.

        Now or never, the limelight was over and Cohen had disappeared for the night leaving his pupil behind. The woosh of movement and a startling spur of rustic red forms just above the open top board. Granted, it creates the utmost sharp —S L A M— as the Houdini’s weight suddenly brings it to a crashing close.

                                                                  Crouching, face to face with Kyle was Peter Rabbit—                                                                   with half stitched masquerade mask formulating a                                                                   wide welcoming grin. Such an eager fan.

                                       “Mr. Fitzpatrick! What a pleasant surprise!”

[i-want-to-take-the-ears-off-blog]

He tapped his chin with his head tilted to the side, taking in the form of the battered body before him. 

"No no no, this pose will simply not do!" he all but groaned before throwing his head back and bellowing.

"Fitzpatrick! Get me my canvas!" he snarled as his voice echoed around him. A few moments ticked by when Sander whirled around, an action that caused his tail coats to flutter behind him as he glared at the darkness.

"Fitzpatrick?! Do not make me ask you again!" Sander snapped.

But still he had received no answer from his pupil. Where was he Sander wondered. He wasn't like that lout Rodriguez in that he chased pretty skirts and charming men to the drink. Nor was he like Finnegan in that he actively sought to invoke his mentor's ire.

No, him being gone meant something had happened to the young man who so desperately sought to please Sander. Pursing his lips, Sander materialized outside the home of Kyle Fitzpatrick, hand pounding at the door as a flash of concern passed his eyes before being buried behind his insanity.

"Oh young Fitzpatrick, whatever will I do with you?" Sander's voice sing songed as he stood outside the apartment.