#miercabre

[eneaid]

this is where the fun begins. ― @miercabre.

THIS IS SO NOT WHAT ENID HAD IN MIND WHEN SHE TOLD WEDNESDAY SHE OWED HER FOR JACKING UP HER DRIVING LESSON. she squeaks as the car is thrown into park at a stop sign, her shared look with the other girl equating to a deer in headlights before wednesday barrels out the driver's door and the wolf has no choice but to peel herself out of the passenger side.

“ fun? ” enid whines as they pass each other around the front of the vehicle. “ this feels like a death sentence. ” which, of course, would be wednesday's idea of fun. she settles into the driver's seat like it might bite her, hands hovering over everything before she fumbles with her seatbelt. a shallow breath. shakey adjustment of the mirrors, the seat ( she actually needs to sit back a little further than her roommate ), the height of the wheel. then her fingers grip the aged leather at ten - and - two way too tightly, knuckles bleaching. her foot presses hard on the brake. there is no move to shift gears.

watercolor gaze glances in the rearview and the sight of a slow - moving car approaching from behind rouses a whimper in her throat, which she doggedly clamps behind her teeth. “ wednesday, ” still utterly helpless as she turns to look at the other, eyes wide. “ are you sure this is a good idea? ”

[eneaid]

rigel: sender steps between receiver and the danger. ― @miercabre.

THIS ISN'T THE FIRST TIME ENID HAS LET WEDNESDAY LEAD HER INTO SOME PRECARIOUS ORDEAL, and -- well, she really hopes it won't be the last. if it is, she'd rather it be a mutual decision or finally laying some of her own boundaries, not because they both end up tossed in a ditch somewhere for poking their noses where they definitely shouldn't have. the metahuman has had a bad feeling about this excursion all night, but this is admittedly -- potentially -- worse than she even feared.

the dark is profound even against her keen sight, closing in on peripherals and making her feel out with her hands wherever wednesday's flashlight wasn't pointing, ears almost twitching against every sound she hears: the dripping of water from a rusty pipe, the soft footfalls of the detective's boots, even the sound of her own breath makes her want to cringe back into the light. the school's underground is beyond creepy. and she really, really shouldn't be held at fault for the startled squeak that rips past her lips when something scrapes at the end of the unlit entryway.

a beat of silence, palm clasped over her mouth as the flashlight beam sweeps over her.

then footsteps, the sound of something clicking -- a gun?

she feels more than she sees wednesday push her backwards, the light now switched off as they both press back against the wall and enid thinks it's absolutely ridiculous that the other girl hovers in front of her like some sort of shield when her own claws make an appearance against the heels of her palms, the blood in her veins steeling into something still and predatory ― and yet, her heart hammers against the cage of her ribs like a panicked animal, and her breath nearly catches in her throat as she lowers her lips to find wednesday's ear -- purely to make sure she can hear her without alerting whatever creepy bad man is lurking in the shadows. “ wednesday, what are you doing? ” for as much as she's trembling, only one of them has the gift of accelerated healing.

[eneaid]

☎

NAME: roomie 🕵🏻‍♀️🐦‍⬛🖤

RINGTONE:  goo goo muck, the cramps !

PICTURE: 

LAST TEXT RECEIVED: The dorm is significantly more peaceful without your incessantly bright presence.

LAST TEXT SENT:  sooo...you're saying you miss me? 😊

your muse's info in my muses phone.

[eneaid]

» RECEIVED IMS FROM @miercabre: i  saw  something  shiny  and  dramatic  and  thought  of  you.

sent, weds ⛈️🖤: awww, you know me so well!! 🥹

sent, weds ⛈️🖤: good to know you think abt me 😉

sent, weds ⛈️🖤: what was it? did you take a pic??

[bonewreaths]

ᝰ           @miercabre     said        ❛       i  think  you're  in  the  wrong  place.       𖤐   ⠀⠀˖   ⠀       ≀        𝒜𝚌𝚌𝚎𝚙𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐.

the  rain  falls  hard  against  the  shingles  of  the  addams  family  mansion.  it  seeps  through  the  layers  of  his  sweater,  his  shirt,  his  pants  .     .     .  his  shoes  slosh  with  mud  and  rainwater.  the  drops  are  gelid  but  he  doesn't  feel  them  all  that  much;  since  his  heart  stopped,  the  difference  between  cold  and  warm  is  almost  nonexistent.  when  he  reaches  the  door,  the  blood  in  his  mouth  has  already  gone  stale  and  his  knuckles  are  bruised  and  stiff  as  they  rap  against  the  dense,  wooden  door.  he  can  hear  the  footsteps  approaching,  and  he  expects  it  to  be  the  butler  he  had  once  been  so  familiar  with;  lurch.  instead,  he  is  met  by  haunting,  onyx  eyes  and  a  look  of  boredom. ❝   mier,   ❞   he  manages  to  gasp  out.  it  is  a  childhood  nickname,  though  rarely  used  even  then.  they  had  once  existed  together  only  in  nigh  -  perpetual  silence.  how  does  he  explain  this?  that  his  mad  abuser  of  a  mother  thinks  it  a  game  to  use  her  old  money  to  pay  people  to  hunt  her  son?  he'd  already  fought  to  get  here,  despite  the  rain  and  the  men  on  his  tail.  ❝   not  wrong  but  a  few  years  late,  at  least.  can  I  .     .     .  come  in?  ❞  does  she  remember  him?  if  not,  that's  unfortunate  ⸺  the  spirits  surrounding  this  place  are  standing  vigilant,  waiting  for  the  cars  not  far  behind  to  finally  start  up  the  drive.  he  had  only  barely  managed  to  slip  through  the  fence,  as  is. 

[forgaeven]

tyler is aware that following another random older woman to the middle of fuck-all nowhere might've not been the best decision he could've made given ... given how things turned out for him, lately. ( now with his master gone, killed by his own hand; then there'd been mom, and- and isaac, and— ) though, if he were being really honest, there was very little left in him, he thought, that anyone else could take which haven’t already been taken. plus, capri seems—

well, she didn't seem to want anything from him. yet.

so they're in the middle of nowhere, and it's— a settlement, he thinks, or something close to it, with a few other hydes who seems, beyond their biological label, kind of amiable and friendly despite it all. and it's— tyler isn't sure what he's supposed to feel. for the most part, he does only what he's told. he sits with them, speaks when spoken to, though he mainly— maybe he's waiting, he thinks. for what, he isn't sure. ( to die, maybe. or rather, to be put to an end. ) just at the edge of his peripheral, dad lingers. stoic and disappointed, as always, but he lingers.

there's mom too, but she doesn't haunt often. not when he's awake. and then– then there's wednesday. on good days, she sits with him and prattles on about a case, and in his head, tyler pretends he wasn't the monster she was investigating. just another boy sick of his hometown, desperate for a change; more desperate to be listened to, or simply sit with just because she could. how could he have expected that he'd find her here, during one of his recent walk around the camp, and she's— she's not a hallucination ?

❛⠀you— you're not supposed to be here,  ❜ he manages, and already, his eyes sting with tears. with all the– all the things he knows she comes with: the almost-normalcy, the judgement onwards. the hatred. ❛⠀or have you finally come around to the idea of finishing me off ?  ❜

for @miercabre , from tyler starter call.

[enchaentales]

misc. starter call, accepting!  ˎˊ˗  @miercabre ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

         … so, yeah, she’s been playing with her dimensional scissors again. if tearing rifts between the fabric of the universe was so dangerous, surely, they wouldn’t make it so easy! it’s the very thing that holds time and space together, it can do with a little boo-boo here and there. maybe she is running with scissors, but the feeling of her warm, eager palms against the cool ruby surface of the handle is just too good to put down. the sounds and the sights of new places and new worlds fuels the wild and hungry supernova inside of her, that only wants to burn brighter.

         today, she’s dimension hopping alone, because marco’s off doing teenage boy things like going to school, and doing karate, and being responsible. and star doesn’t want to do any of that. she’s not jealous, or pouty. just bored, and excited to see where her aimless swipe of the scissors takes her. 

       the portal opens to a dark grey world, clouded in misery and gated by black thorns, with trees that are more like starving, sharp claws. all of it surrounds a dark, looming school, and star shrieks, terrified that the castle is some kind of prison for princesses that misbehave. but nobody comes to get her. no robot nor men in masks. so instead star … approaches, curiously, creaking open the front gate. she uses her wand as a light, guiding her down the path until she reaches the school. the first person she meets … doesn’t look like a princess. she tries for a pleasant greeting, anyway, meeting the girl with the stone face with a bright grin, leaping up on her toes.  “ hiya! i’m star butterfly! this … wouldn’t happen to be a school for wayward princesses, would it? ”

[forgaeven]

you take the umbrella. i'll be fine. (For Tyler!)

tyler's expression scrunches together, lips thinned.

there is something in his guts, in his entire being, that repulses from even the way he looks at her; from the way his body has already stored this fondness for her - low in his ribs, fluttering at the edges of his stomach. and tyler knows that that probably doesn't make any sense, because how can two such contradictory statements exist in one whole system, like sometimes he's just there watching what happens to him from the outside, but tyler has stopped questioning the sanity of his circumstances since– since mom's died. what's the use, anyway ? dad still refuses to talk, and mom's gone.

( a third figure appears momentarily on the list : voice honey-sweet, and eyes wide like they couldn't get enough of witnessing him, of watching him, of devouring every skin and transformation he's gone through with a gleeful smile on her face. tyler feels something inside of him both sinks and quietens down from the image; like he couldn't bear the shame of being exposed the way he had been, but finding no way he could walk away from it. so he hardens, instead. he curls into the acceptance of violence and her easy praises. he finds comfort in the attention dad wouldn't give, and mom couldn't have provided anymore. )

at least with wednesday ... at least with @miercabre, her demand's obvious. she lays out what she wants easily, and yeah, maybe the social part passes right through her sometimes, but confronted with it enough, wednesday doesn't walk away from whatever comes looking for her. she faces it. she looks at it straight in the eyes. and maaaybe she's a little fun to poke at, sometimes, with her love for the macabre and her identity wrapped with all things gothic. at the back of his mind, tyler's already thought of five different upbeat and colorful movies he could probably tease her with. for now, he rolls his eyes affectionately, takes the umbrella, opens the car door, and steps into the rain.

the water soaks him immediately.

❛⠀what, you think i can't handle a little bit of rain ?  ❜ he tells her once he's on her side of the door, smiling down a little mischievously. tyler pushes his curls back; he can't remember the last time he'd ever voluntarily get rained on. he doesn't think about how nice this is, to be impulsive, without it being destructive. he opens the umbrella instead – stepping under it as much as it's an offer for her ❛ come on, we'll share. this is better, anyway. i can at least make sure you'll sneak into nevermore alright. — you coming ?  ❜

will they, won't they