#h4untingeclipse

[threegoldfish]

@h4untingeclipse sent: [ 𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐇 ] My muse attempts to make yours laugh when they are sad. || steven to marc or jake, your choosing! perhaps he's doing silly steven things From my meme tag from some meme || always accepting

Marc blinks. Once. Twice. Inhales. Exhales. Blinks again, for good measure.

His eyes feel so damn tired, and part of him considers to go back to bed instead of facing whatever's going to come for him today. He did manage to make himself a cup of coffee, which is... something, he guesses. But now he's sitting here, at their small dining table, and he gazes at Steven's reflection that exists within the small make-up mirror they've put here so as to be able to actually talk to another while eating---

And Steven, bless him, tries to cheer him up. Talks about something funny he's experienced the other day. Fuck, Marc feels bad about not really being able to understand what he's even saying; Too many thoughts, not enough energy.

He swallows, takes another sip of his coffee, then exhales another breath.

"---Steven." Soft yet persistent, spoken to get his alter's attention. "I... gotta admit, I didn't listen to a single thing you just said. And... I'm sorry 'bout that." ---Marc wants to be somewhat of a decent guy at least, if he's already being an ass here because of him not really allowing any of the other's words to sink into his brain. So here he is, admitting to his sins, accompanied by another sigh that comes from somewhere deep within his chest - eyes closing as he leans forward and drops his forehead on top of that table, the impact causing a dull thud-sound to echo through their appartment.

[threemoonflowers-archive]

steven grant ꒰ @h4untingeclipse ꒱ sent : ⤷ ❝ I’ve counted sheep, read books, stared at the ceiling… nothing works. ❞

"Tried actually closing you eyes, maybe?" Marc's voice was a little huffed there, his own tired gaze finding Steven from the little mirror they kept at the bedside table. "Seems like the last thing you've even thought about trying, Steven." Marc would know, he'd been eyeballing his alter for about thirty minutes now. Watching the other fidget within the body. Watched Steven play with that damn Rubik's Cube of his. It was almost enough to irritate the host, just because Steven wouldn't settle down. "Can literally feel how antsy the body is, you know. what gives?" Was it just a bad night? Marc knew they sometimes had those, no matter who was controlling the body or not. He just didn't seem to expect it that night since it felt like nothing had lead up to it in the first place.

[threegoldfish]

@h4untingeclipse sent: “i woke up too early today so i’m gonna make it everyone’s problem.” || and marc at whomever as well! being a grouch From my meme tag from some meme || always accepting

Jake rolls his eyes so hard at that statement that he can feel them reaching his brain, he's sure about it; Lips part as he inhales, then exhales - long and slow, measured, gloved fingers coming up to give the bridge of his nose a squeeze---

He'd been able to sense it for a while now, the fact that something had been off there within their head, for the whole of that damn day - compare it to an itch of sorts, one that cannot be scratched, but even worse than that. Like knowing about a thing without really knowing what exactly it is you're aware of're aware of, a very interesting sensation indeed, but maddening all the same.

---Even though Jake himself has been dormant for most of said day, lounging around within their mind before taking over for the night, he feels like he's been on his damn legs for a fucking week already.

"...Amazing." Deadpan, certainly not feeling amazed about the circumstances, his gaze trails to the side - meets the one of the other within the side mirror of his car, Marc's reflection staring back at him with just as much amusement sticking to his features. "---And what exactly do you want me to do 'bout that now? Ain't my fault you fell out of bed... or whatever."

A blink, attention back on the road as the hand from before returns to the steering wheel; Another gloved hand puts a cigar between his lips then, with Jake taking a drag of it, allowing the taste to develop on his tongue before a plume of smoke leaves flared nostrils, fills the interior of his beloved vehicle.

"'Sides, you didn't even ask for my fucking consent; Maybe I don't want you to make it my problem, y'know? Maybe I've got other shit to do, stuff that's more important, all of that?"

[threegoldfish]

@h4untingeclipse asked: “you know you can die from that?” and my marc for your jake because this seems silly From my meme tag || always accepting

Jake is in the middle of taking a drag from his cigarette - yes, cigarette, because of reasons he doesn't want to think about, as they annoy the shit out of him, and he's not having enough fucks left to spend on that - when Marc has the audacity to appear out of nowhere, present himself in the rainwater-puddle between his feet, and stare up at him like he's currently watching said Jake trying to throw them off a cliff or something; It would be hilarious under any other circumstances - but ¡Dios mío!, he's simply smoking a fucking cigarette, not holding a gun to his head.

And Jake blinks once, twice, stares down at his host with both a frown and a lifted brow. Don't ask him how he's doing it, but Jake can pull that one off - and yes, his gaze is very much giving 'what the fuck' energy.

There's a second of tense silence existing between them then, surrounded by the darkness of the night and the clouds high above threatening to spill another bucket worth of water onto who is already fully drenched at this point. A heartbeat passes. Two. Three.

A deep breath - a sigh, theatric, dramatic, over the top, exaggerated, you name it, as Jake throws his head back and pulls that cigarette from between his lips. No, he's not going to stomp it out or something - instead he then brings it back up, pointedly, to take a more enthusiastic drag of tobacco and lung cancer, just to make sure it reaches them deep. His eyes return to that puddle after, as lips part and a thick plume of smoke is exhaled, carried away by a not-so-gentle breeze, followed by a slow blink and a tilt of a head.

"...Should I tell you somethin' funny?", is what he says then, drawls basically, accompanied by a smug little grin that's much more devilish in nature than soft, all things considered. "Given the fact that you're sufferin' from DID, you are currently doing this to yourself - kinda. More or less. We both know it's different for us, but if viewed from an, uh, psychological or medical perspective, this is totally what you're doin' - and you're lecturin' yourself 'bout it."

Jake's being an ass, he knows, but - he's had a shit night, alright? Give him some slack here. Let him have this cigarette, at least, if he's already denied the pleasure of having a good cigar instead...