#faultfatale

[ahsterism]

@faultfatale asked: "if i were eve in the garden of eden, the devil would've gotten my ass with a babybel." navi for saint hi // shit my friends say

"I'M MORE OF A STRING CHEESE GUY MYSELF, but respectable temptation choice." Saint doesn't miss a beat before adding his input— if there's one thing he will do no matter what, it's commit to the bit. "Wait— no, you know what cheese the devil would've gotten my ass with? Mozzarella sticks."

[bravevolunteer-a]

@faultfatale asked: ❛ I might have to break up with him. Unless I get lucky and he just disappears. ❜ annie you can't just say things // yellowjackets season two sentence starters

"PROBABLY more of a chance of disappearing than it seems," Michael comments without much thought about how it sounds until it comes out of his mouth— the years known for his worst mistake combined with the onslaught of disappearances associated with his family's restaurant never did any wonders for his small town reputation, after all. He and Annie are more familiar than just a strange association now, at least ( back then he would mostly open the door to see her there to talk to his mom ), and she's the one who decided to admit to whatever the hell is going on in her romantic life this time.

"If you think you wanna break up with him, why don't you just get it over with? Wanting him to disappear seems like ENOUGH of an answer on how much you like him t'me." He never claimed to understand why straight relationships work like this. Though, Michael tends to be HASTY in his reluctance to get close to others, too. "But— hey, if you're gunning for the other option I could put together a job referral."

[sensesdialed]

@faultfatale asked: ❝ i’m not falling for your mind games. ❞ hero hours // resident evil 4 remake starters

"... MIND GAMES?" Peter can't help but repeat, head tilting from where he's crouched on a nearby railing ( like a confused puppy )— they aren't even in the middle of a fight, and he still would have been beyond confused if they were. Their encounters have always been... tumultuous, sure, but he's never tried to manipulate her over anything! He has no idea what she could even be talking about... unless... huh— he was just offering to help her out, wasn't he-

"It's not-! Why would I?— hold on, I'm not trying to play any mind games!" The frantic response probably isn't going to work any wonders for him, but in his defense, he was just trying to be NICE. "I mean, I get how it can seem like with... you know, the conflicting goals and everything, but it's not like I really have anything to gain out of this, either. I swear, truce for now, I'm just trying to be nice. And I'm pretty sure you'd catch me before I ever outsmarted you like that even if I tried!"

[bravevolunteer-a]

@faultfatale asked: “Do you know how to properly care for the injured? You just don’t look very qualified, no offense” n. navi- // the injured and the healers

SHE THROWS HIM COMPLETELY OFF BALANCE, head leaning back as he blinks with sudden surprise— ... okay, maybe she's right, maybe it's on him for not expecting the actively bleeding one here to be so blunt. Michael can't help but glance down at himself— his uniform looks presentable! ( but he, most likely, does not ). "I've done it before," is the first response he goes with, shrugging his shoulders as he fishes for the gauze in the Fazbear establishment provided first-aid kit. He's mostly cared for his OWN injuries, though, and he's honestly not sure if his methods are correct.

"I'm not technically qualified, no— what I am is the only one here who noticed and the guy with the first aid kit." He shrugs, leaning back from the injury. "Look, none taken— d'you wanna handle it yourself or do you want me to do it? Either way, doesn't look like you should leave this one alone."

[bravevolunteer-a]

@faultfatale asked: anxiety - muse a intertwines their fingers with muse b’s to ground themself (Annie...... frens..) // gentleness action prompts

MICHAEL DOESN'T KNOW WHAT TO SAY. Maybe he should be able to come up with something better than short breaths and assuring that she's okay after spending six hours locked in a cramped office together, but in a strange way it was almost easier to deal with when they were one open door or mere percentages of power away from death at any turn. At least Michael was able to pour his focus into survival. He's gotten SKILLED at it, mastering quick camera glances and just the right times to shut the doors, disconnecting from any and all fear just to make it through the night. Having Annie there shook things up— yeah, the extra voice and conversation was new, but so was the responsibility of keeping SOMEONE ELSE alive rather than only himself.

Now that they're out, Michael needs to explain everything. But the words are caught in his throat and guilt is squeezing the air from his lungs and wouldn't it be so much easier to tell her to never come around here again and make sure she's out of harm's way for good?

"I- I shouldn't have— you shouldn't be roped into this shit, I can explain, I WILL, just—" He glances behind himself— they're still in the parking lot, the restaurant is still there looming over him and he's been here TOO MANY times to count but it feels all the more encompassing when it is no longer only his secret to hold. "—We should get out of here, we should-" There's a tug at his hand, and Michael glances down to find her fingers slowly intertwining with his ( cautious, testing the waters in case he reacts to the gentleness like a wounded animal ). He swallows, finally looking back at her, and she's shaking too. The action is to ground both of them... slowly, Michael begins to breathe.

"I've, uh... had a few nights where I can't drive back right away, sitting with the radio on usually helps... I can explain there?"

[hitoripiledriver]

@faultfatale​​ asked: ❛  am i bothering you? do you wanna talk?  ❜ / this is actually from annie’s old account 

lune answers old old old asks

It’s late — late enough that ‘ S ‘ should be in full swing, and yet Reki finds himself the sole occupant of the skatepark he and Langa have deemed theirs. He isn’t skating. Instead, laying with his back flat on the ground, knees raised so his feet can sit flat on his board and shuffle it slightly from side to side. An arm is lifted above his head, being used as a pillow as he stares silently at the stars. 

He’d told Langa to go to ‘ S ‘ without him. Said that he was too tired to go. It wasn’t entirely a lie, but then again .... maybe he hadn’t been entirely honest about what kind of tired he was. 

Annie’s voice startles him, a small jump as his eyes flicker up to find her. And then he laughs ; not hard, but a little chuckle the eases some of the tension from his form. 

“How’d y’find me?” 

It’s just a question, nothing accusatory — he just hadn’t expected anyone to come looking for him. It’s not unwelcome.

“You’re not bothering me.”   ( A pause as he considers her second question. )    “ ....not really. Wanna sit?” 

[ahsterism]

@faultfatale asked: ❝ i didn’t want to worry you. ❞ navi for saint 👉👈 // hurt/comfort starters

"WORRIED?" Saint echoes, flicking his hand as if the concern is hardly anything at all— not that he wants to come off as dismissive, he doesn't, and... well, if he tells the truth, he WAS worried. But it won't do either of them any good to linger on that. He might not be the best at this kind of thing, but he just... wants to ease the guilt on her shoulders, at least a little.

"You don't have to worry about worrying me— first of all that might cause a confusing worry paradox and THAT would suck." He doesn't even know what he means by that. "And it... doesn't matter what's going on. I'm not just gonna sit here and not help you if you need it." As he talks, he clears a space for her to sit down, filling the silence with the one thing Saint knows he IS good at: running his mouth. Just as he finishes assuring that he wasn't even doing much anyway, he takes a seat next to her, gaze softening as he tries to figure out his next step. "What- uh... what do you need? I can do talking, distractions, whatever it is."

[ahsterism]

@faultfatale asked: annie pulls an eyelash curler out of her bag and wields it like a pair of scissors. "i'm coming for you next, afton." // fuck you [curls him]

WITH THE HORRIFIED YELP HE LETS OUT, one would think the threat is something worse than an eyelash curler, but Michael frantically backs away all the same. "No fucking way, you're not sticking that in my eye! Why does it look like a torture device?" Clearly he has no clue how it works— come on, Michael, she's just trying to make you pretty!