#havstarter

[eclipseofargus-blog]

Ever since he’d been living life as a shadow, the movie theatre became Connor’s favorite place. It was loaded with a variety of different foods, was quiet (for the most part) and dark. Connor loved the dark. Being amongst shadows like himself made him feel like he belonged. His current situation was made less intense here.

More often than not, he’d spend an entire day at the theatre, buying a ticket for one movie and then sneaking into the showings of others by using his powers--He’d let himself come into contact with light on purpose, vanishing in thin air, and sliding into another movie room just as others were leaving it. Disappearing under the light meant being without clothes in total darkness, so Connor had outfits cleverly hidden in every part of the building for that very purpose.

Connor vaguely remembered the movie he was watching now, distracting himself with a bag of popcorn. The images that flashed away on the screen had no meaning to him; apparently the movie was a huge success. Yeah, right. He saw a person out of the corner of his eye. Or what he believed was a person. He had a habit of speaking to shadows, whisking them out of their hiding spaces only for conversation. Either way, he spoke:

“They get married at the end. So sappy. A real letdown, if you ask me. I’ve seen this a thousand times. Scratch that. A thousand and one.”

[unicorion-blog]

giblets for the cat ✩ open

❝ Oh, all the time that I have wasted, Chasing rabbits down a hole. When I was born to be the tortoise, I was born to walk alone.❞

Her heels were clicking on the sidewalk, her pace quick. Orion wanted to get home quickly -- the sunglasses covering the sadness and exhaustion in her eyes, her mouth just barely managing to strain itself into a fake smile as she nervously pushed herself through the busy streets of New York. 

Days like these were the hardest. When she was vulnerable and tired and couldn’t remember the last time she had eaten properly or taken a shower.

Speaking of food--

The ginger slipped into the nearest supermarket. It was a small place, one she’d never been before. Perhaps it was only recently established. She ignored her aching legs as she searched the aisles, eventually finding what she was looking for.

Once she’d arrived at the checkout with three large bags of cat food and a bottle of water, she was met with a rather annoyed looking employee, who looked her up and down. Twice. Orion swallowed hard and pulled her card out of her purse, only to then notice the sign that told her that due to a system error, they could only accept cash.

“Oh...” She tried not to sound too defeated, instead started digging through her wallet and the rest of her purse, though she only found a couple of dollars. “Frick...” A feeling of panic and embarrassment surged through her, making her feel like a giant spotlight was shining down on her, making sure the rest of the store could see her embarrassing situation.

She eyed the products, counted the bills again. “I only need a bag of the cat food, I-- I can come back tomorrow to pay for it?” She offered, her voice nervous. Of course, the man laughed at her, told her she could afford the bottle of water and where she might want to stick it.

Clearly they were both having a bad day.

“I-- I’m sorry. I’ll... put everything back...”

[ironclxdalibi-blog]

an active crime ➻ o p e n

for your ears.mp3  ◄◄  ( glory and gore.lorde )

She instructed him to start telling people to leave, find a route that didn’t go through the crime scene - anything to get him the hell away from this place.

It was clear his boss wanted to handle the scene herself. Or... without him. Mason did so almost obediently, as if he were her new guard dog desperate to fit in with the pack. But as he pupped his way to the edge of the scene, he frowned at the way all of his co-workers got to busily stake out the area, do all the cool shit like they always got to do. Coordinating with the lead investigator; fucking the DA over; whatever Evelyn made of them as argued with the police as they finished their search. 

Mason was to stand lowly under the streetlight to tell people to leave. That was what the police were supposed to do; they even thought he was a mere passerby, telling him to go home and leave the affairs to the professionals.

As much as he wanted to gaze longingly at the neon luminol, speculate about the incident, do detective work - the dream - he had to turn away and do what was needed. Inadequacy settled in his limbs. His eyes fell down on the rubble, biting his lip as he watched the shadows walk by him over the pavement. When one approached him, Mason looked up at them with hesitance scribbled all over his face. “Do you, uh, think you could, take the other route? We’re busy conducting an investigation and...”

[goodgrxff-blog]

the great ➻ open

for your ears.mp3  ◄◄  ( i come with knives.iamx )

“Your time is up, Great Griffin.”

Gordon was tied to a chair, his hands cuffed from behind, completely unable to move. But, despite that, he spat at the floating puppet, smirking even, not showing an ounce of ear. “Say what you will, Ayes-Sage, the Great Griffin will never fold to the likes of you.”

The puppet cackled, whirling around him before swooping down to steal Gordon’s hat as a glass container descended from the catwalk, trapping Gordon inside. “We’ll see about that. With your mystical hat, I will have infinite power.” The puppet twirled in place before pointing its wand at the container, an explosion bursting within it and combusting into a huge flame.

Gasps bubbled over the audience as the puppet laughed maniacally. Silence fell over the room.

“Not so fast,” Gordon’s voice boomed over the stage. The puppet floated in place, merely confused, before Gordon’s hat flew from its grip to the center stage, a torrent of water gushing out and dousing the flames. And there Gordon was, entirely unharmed. Soaking wet and shirtless, but glistening on the stage, his teeth shiny as he winked at the audience. Waving his wand freely, a puff of smoke billowed over him before it cleared away, a full suit on him, completely dry and professional. Gordon reached for his hat, clicking his teeth at the puppet, waggling a finger. “Did you forget who I am?”

Without missing a beat, Gordon made the puppet burst into smoke, a deck of cards fluttering down to the stage.

The audience roared. Gordon merely shrugged, bowing once. 

“And now, to vanquish the evil magician, Ayes-Sage, for one-thousand years. I need an assistant.” He swanned about on stage, levitating a card up with his wand. “Can I have the audience member in seat C-36 come on stage.” Gordon pointed his wand, a harsh spotlight falling over the person in the third row, smirking wide. “Come. We must banish this magistrate.”

[rllyxavier-blog]

IM 📨 OPEN

XAVIER: knock knock

[responsibleharper]

She’s groggy. Her eyes are crusty and red, and her breaths are still heavy with the few hours of sleep she got, but still she drags herself out of bed, puts on her sneakers and goes for her morning run. It feels like one of the few times she gets to herself since most of her sisters are asleep at this time. Plus the crisp, cool morning air always feels great on her skin and gives each new day a fresh start. She can just run and ignore all the issues in the world as she takes in all birds’ songs. 

But today she’s extra groggy. Her eyes can barely focus on the ground beneath her and her legs to feel heavier and heavier with every step, but she wants to push past it. She picks up the pace, bolting around street corners until—thunk! A sidewalk crack takes her by surprise and she tumbles to the ground. 

Most days Lucy would be able to get back up, return home to bandage herself up and continue her day, but today she can’t. She’s so tired and now she can’t stop all the thoughts she’s been trying so hard to keep quiet. I can’t even run. I can’t even control myself. How can I really think I can keep all my sisters together? I didn’t even see Alaska all yesterday.

She curls up covering her mouth to try to stop her sobs. 

[dakotaxkrenn]

The small coffee shop was bustling, full of people trying to escape the cold for even a few minutes. It was a small miracle Dakota was able to find an empty table, but before she got a chance to sit, something on the floor caught her eye. Sitting her cup on the table’s surface, she reached down under the table and came back with a wallet. She frowned. Instinct said to leave it. She didn’t know who it belonged to, and if one of the employees found it, they’d have a better chance of returning it to it’s rightful owner. Then again, there was an even greater chance that someone would find it, consider themselves lucky, and run off with the thing. With a sigh, she opened it up to find a credit card, a few bills, and most importantly, an ID. She stared at the picture, realizing with a jolt that the owner was sitting just a few tables away from her. She closed the wallet and picked up her drink, resigning herself to the fact that she’d probably have to find somewhere else to sit after this.

The person seemed completely unaware of their lost item, Dakota had to clear her throat to get their attention once she was standing in front of them. “You, um, I think you dropped this,” she said, holding out the wallet. 

[mutedxmelodies-blog]

the stage ♮ open

Once upon a time, Evelyn Bellamy adored the limelight. She welcomed reporters and journalists with arms wide open; as a result, she often saw her perfectly made-up face and bolded name in printed and online news articles. With each grand performance, she drew closer and closer to the stage of all stages, her dream — Broadway. And everyone, including her, believed she’d one day fulfill that dream.

Until everything came to a screeching halt.

No longer did she strive for the spotlight. Evelyn knew she had to continue performing — it was in her bones — but she didn’t want the fame. Didn’t believe she deserved it. She took comfort in joining a silent theatre troupe, took solace in the literal and symbolic mask it offered her. As long as her identity was never revealed, the mask was protection from the media and from the audience, and was a chance to be more than an empty husk. Every evening, she shed the listless role of Evelyn and embraced the life of another.

Three days ago, she was Aphrodite. Today, she was Juliet. Three days from now, perhaps she’d be Daisy or Ophelia.

Today’s mask was feather-light, its shade a soft, enchanting mix of lavender, blue, and silver. Evelyn loved the smooth feel of it against her skin, imagining that the mask was imbued with powerful magic that transformed her into the doomed, star-crossed lover. The street corner she was performing on disappeared. All evaporated into mist but Romeo as they kissed, passionately yet silently professed their eternal love for each other, and met their untimely demises.

As the play ended, resulting in applause from a moderate crowd, Evelyn’s surroundings returned to reality. The musicians of the troupe bowed, followed by the cast. One by one, each member slipped into the shadows and out of sight. Evelyn followed suit.

Some distance away, she pulled down her mask, letting it hang around her neck, and closed her eyes. The cool air slowly soothed her, calmed her heartbeat, eased her back into her empty self. But as her senses gradually sharpened, she heard a set of quiet footsteps behind her. She stiffened and looked up, but didn’t turn around. How long had she been followed, and by whom?