#para;open

[matts-daehler]

Party Crashed

After Lysander left to go to the bathroom, Matt got up from the table himself and moved closer to his mother. She'd been standing by the cake for a while now, basically the whole reception, and she hadn't said more than "congratulations" to him. He knew she wasn't entirely gung-ho about this whole thing but she had shown up, and that meant something. She saw him approach and gave him a tight smile, the one that meant it wasn't at all okay but she was going to pretend it was because that's her job as a mother.

Matt opened his mouth to say something when chaos broke out. Smoke bombs and then...gunshots.

"GET DOWN!" he yelled at his mother, diving towards her and basically tackling her to the ground. He felt a bullet whiz by his ear and hoped she'd ducked in time, hoped she knew what was happening. He didn't even know what was happening. This was his wedding--

"Lysander," he mumbled, getting to his knees and trying to find his husband, trying to hear him, smell him, something, but the smoke made it impossible, and there was screaming and crying everywhere. This was a hunter attack, he knew, it had to be. Glancing down at his mother briefly, Matt's heart froze. Her left shoulder was bloody. She'd been shot.

"MOM!" He dropped down beside her again, felt under her nose to make sure she was breathing because her eyes were closed. She must have passed out from the pain or shock or...shaking his head, Matt yanked off his tie, bunched it up, and pressed it to the wound, knowing that he had to keep pressure. "Stay with me, Mom, please," he sputtered, suddenly aware of the tears on his face that had nothing to do with the smoke. He felt someone kneel beside him and saw big, strong hands push his away to apply pressure. His dad was here.

"Go find your husband," he said, voice authoritative, his manager voice that he didn't use at home. Matt shared a look of gratitude before getting up and turning his head back and forth, trying to find him. He took a deep breath and prepared to shout louder than he'd ever shouted before.

"LYSANDER!"

[chiarassin]

It's a little past 6pm, and Chiara has just finished her classes at the university for the day. She's hurrying back home, hair up in a high ponytail waving behind her back as she walks down the street. She reaches for her purse, taking out her phone to check for any new messages she might have gotten while she was busy in class. As the street back to her apartment isn't very crowded, she rarely ever pays attention to where she goes, simply going straight ahead - bad choice this time, as suddenly her shoulder bumps into another person, making her stumble slightly and drop her phone to the floor. "Oh-- No-" She quickly picks it back up, biting her lower lip in worry while looking up at meet your eyes. "I'm so sorry, I should be more careful- Are you alright?"

[joeezra]

Open Para.

She steps out of the complex and takes a deep breath and exhales, watching the fog from her breath fill the air. "Ah what a beautiful day!" She smiles and pulls her scarf up securing it and making sure that her face is covered. The young female makes her way to a park near by and sits on the first bench she sees. She closes her eyes, feeling the breeze hit her face and jumps a little from a tap on her shoulder. Thinking that a fan had recognize her, she gulps and turns around to see who it was.

[monkey-stabbing]

We speak in tongues.

As planned, Shin could be found at the local guitar shop - a vast Holy Mecca of all things music. Guitars. Amps. Effects pedal. Drums. Recording equipment. The list seemed almost impossible to cover, but it didn’t matter to Shin. He came for one specific reason - he needed a new guitar.

Perhaps ‘needed’ was not a necessary term. He had plenty. But something new to lay his hands on? Something new to let his fingers explore? It was almost as good as sex, if not better.

His wardrobe today was simple and fairly casual, yet expensive. Red hair was pulled back out of his face, sunglasses shading his eyes as he stood outside the store, a cigarette on his way to his lips as he glanced over his shoulder at some high-pitched laughing from a girl he was sure he would have throttled had she been in his company.

Fitted jeans were slid over black boots, a simple layering of a Tshirt beneath a button up shirt left him comfortable, even in the awkwardness that made him clench his jaw at the party that passed him on the sidewalk. He eagerly welcomed the last few drags of his cigarette, hand dropping to adjust the chain that connected his wallet to his belt before snuffing out the cigarette and disposing of it.

With that done, the guitarist slipped inside, tucking his sunglasses into the collar of his Tshirt as he stepped trough the door. Greeted with familiar faces, handshakes and brief hugs were dished out as he made his way back to the guitar section. His eyes crawled up the expanse of guitars in the wall, and he couldn’t help but smirk at the rush of excitement that pulsed through him.

Yeah, this was definitely better than sex.

[emberomf-blog]

i need a remedy ✘ open

Ember chuckled as she watched the cubs play fight. She loved watching the young animals play and romp around, they gave her a new hope. They gave her something to dream on while her world crumbles around her. Her hazel eyes started to tear up once again as she realized that nothing remains young. Nothing. She sighed and stood up from the step-stool she'd been sitting on for the past hour or so as she tried to escape into the songs that ran through her head. She wiped her eyes as she fought the thoughts that whispered in her brain. They were just memories of quotes she'd heard throughout her life that slowly pushed her to run away. Taking a deep shaky breath, she left the animal enclosures hoping to find Hunter, but right now she'd settle for a rock. She just needed someone to vent to. Someone to tell her that she wasn't going insane. Someone to let her cry on their shoulder. That's all she needed.  For Ember, life was a series of 'yes's and 'of course's, never 'no's. She could never say no to someone who needed help or wanted her to do something. To her, saying 'no' was a taboo, or so she thought. Growing up in the Moore household wasn't pretty. There was always yelling and shouting. There was never a quiet moment in the house and if there was, everyone was asleep. That was usually the time when Ember did her homework, so she could never unwind or relax. She sighed and crossed her arms over her chest as she continued to walk aimlessly around the circus grounds. Her gaze didn't remain in one place for long. She tried not to tear up but she couldn't help it, which would bring her usual puffy, red eyes. She hated crying, she hated being shown off as weak. She wouldn't be weak. No. She couldn't, and yet, it was the only thing that she needed to be. She needed to cry until she couldn't cry anymore. Biting down on her lip, she held back a sigh of confusion as her steps slowly died down into a shuffle then stopped completely. After a few deep breaths, she slowly sat down, bringing her legs up to her chest and hugging them. Her bottom lip was quivering as she leaned her forehead on her knees. 

[matts-daehler]

Breaking || Open

The night was cold. Not unbearably cold, but cold enough that Matt could feel each breath of wind like a slap against his skin. It didn't help that he was wearing a t-shirt and jeans, with no jacket of any sort. That was a conscious choice, though. He wanted to be cold, because cold was something he could rationalize. Wanting to break up with Lysander, on the other hand...

It wasn't that he didn't love Lysander anymore, or didn't want to be with him. Matt loved Lysander just as much as he always did, which was a hell of a lot, and the thought of being apart still tore at his insides. but the way Lysander had been acting, the things he'd been saying...it had started before the ghosts, Matt had noticed a change in Lysander ever since the wall incident, and it was just getting worse. Saying those things to Nasir, and to Matt, and the subtle yet detectable manipulation Lysander had tried when Matt left...something had changed and Matt wasn't sure if he even knew his boyfriend anymore.

He couldn't be at Lysander's house, not with the thoughts he was having. It made him feel like he was cheating. So he went to the Preserve, to a spot he often came when he had to think and needed space. Knowing Matt, this spot didn't make much sense, given that it was near a fairly sizable body of water, but the fact that he couldn't relax completely helped him focus, somehow.

Matt had done his fair share of yelling and screaming and punching and kicking, and now he sat, breathless and cold and bleeding, honestly contemplating taking a swim. His phone and wallet were on the ground next to him, in case he did. Someone would have to know who he was.

"I don't know what to do," he said into the silence, his voice broken and hoarse, tears starting to fall down his face again.

[laheyyisaacretired-blog]

Awake || Open (whoever's at the hospital)

Isaac finally woke up after what seemed like a long dream. Voices had floated in and out, like a radio with a bad signal, arguing and crying, some familiar and some less so. He couldn't remember where he was, who he was with, what he'd been doing...although judging by the pounding in his head, he'd been drinking. Great. It came flooding back; Aiden saying all those hurtful things, saying he didn't love Isaac or care about him at all, and Isaac went back to drink...how many bottles? Three? Three bottles of vodka, at least, in about an hour. He'd done that after the Allison incident, or something very similar. But why was it so much more painful than usual? Why did it feel like his head was splitting in half? And why does his throat hurt?

He groaned slightly, but even that hurt his throat and head. It was bright. Very bright. Hangovers and light didn't go well. Who didn't understand that? He slowly opened his eyes, squinting and trying to raise his arms to block the light, but he could barely move.

As his eyes adjusted, he realized he was in the hospital. What? Why was he in the hospital? Had he really drank that much? And who had taken him? But there was really only one person he wanted to see right now.

"Derek--" Isaac squawked out, his voice incredibly rough.