#psycchout

[carvedbones]

@psycchout said: trail !       + accepting !

  𝐀 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑.  fingertips touch with gentle intent, the cold air no more of a bother than the conscious choice of intimacy : baring his bones, his trauma, the physical reminder of his previous mortality written on his body. it stings, although not literally---  a dead heart thumps against ribs, the rot of flesh covering what lays deep within. teeth lock firmly against each other, their sharpened edges no longer cutting into tender gums. by now, elliott had earned a sliver of his trust, aware his intent was not malicious, yet it felt nothing but unnatural. discomfort painted the expression on his face, gaze evading eye contact, wandering before him instead. ‘twas but the tip of the iceberg, a throat left unsightly  ( 𝘦𝘥𝘨𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘣𝘭𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘴𝘱𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘤𝘭𝘦, 𝘥𝘪𝘨𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘥𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘦𝘳 𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘭 𝘪𝘵 𝘧𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘦𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 ; 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘪 𝘴𝘢𝘸 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘴 𝘮𝘺 𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘴𝘶𝘯𝘬 𝘣𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘴, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘺 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨. )  

   a shake of the head.  the outsider realizes the past haunts him still, the image of his death trailing him like a ghost. tongue traced the edges of his teeth, only for them to dig into the frail skin of his lower lip. for a moment he ponders, wondering if to speak of what’d happened, if such information wouldn’t bother this poor man. head was tilted to the left, an awkward position to be in for long as neck strained painfully. that was the least of his worries.    ❛  if i told you the truth, you wouldn’t believe it.  ❜   few did.  fewer cared.  so, neither did he.   ❛  but.. i’m lucky to be alive.  ❜

[carvedbones]

   𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃𝐍’𝐓 have happened. a disguise so human that it mimicked even the frailty of a human body, that was a flaw --- but these situations were usually under his control, a wound swiftly covered by bandages. this time however, it appeared the outsider was too slow with blinking away, in need of aid with the grotesque gash on his arm, oozing black blood from the torn flesh. slender hand covered the wound in an attempt to keep the other legend away from this truth. while it might not uncover the truth of his being, it would certainly raise questions.

    ❛  i’ll be alright. this is no cause for concern,  ❜  this faux reassurance was not supported by the tone carrying his words, hesitating where it shouldn’t, with eyes that darted away from mirage on purpose. subtle in its own way, but remaining regardless. despite this, the purple undertones of his vest were soaked with this bizarre obsidian color now, its scent unmistakable.  ❛  you can go ahead if you so wish. i’ll follow soon.  ❜  

@psycchout​.

[carvedbones]

from here   /   @psycchout​ !

  now  ,  oliver knew people could respond less favorably to ‘ no ’,  but for it to hit this harshly came as somewhat a surprise.  brows raised when elliott’s demeanor shifted,  oliver visibly taken aback by this treatment.  it was understandable but it did not convince him to change his mind.  in fact,  it might just have helped him settle his decision.  arms crossed atop his chest after his box of trinkets had been closed  :  possibly locked for long,   𝘪𝘧  𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴  𝘸𝘦𝘯𝘵  𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘩.

   ❝   what do you want me to do ?  you cannot be caught with these or you’ll be disqualified  --- or worse.  i doubt you want that,   ❞    if bluntness was the language they would speak,  oliver would make sure to communicate he was fluent in it, too.    ❝    last time was a close call.  two of them is the most you can carry.  unless you want to drag me on the battlefield with you, there’s very little else i have to offer.   ❞

[carvedbones]

  lavender hue illuminated obsidian walls ,  dreadful aesthetics depicting a familiar melancholy   :   this home may not be populated often, but when it was the outsider decorated it in a peculiar fashion.  skeletons of various animals set and posed on the shelves among ancient tomes.  dust laid uncomfortably long ‘pon the back of books,  a single fingerprint exposing bright color beneath the grey.  subtle clues to his absence plagued the furniture of this room.  yet,  he’d invited another to his home;   𝐚  𝐦𝐚𝐧  𝐡𝐞'𝐝  𝐦𝐞𝐭  𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞, somewhere between the rowdy drunken people, well after the stars lit up the harrowing dark sky.

  make no mistake.  the outsider was aware of who mirage was ;  feigning human innocence merely granted trust almost effortlessly if the person in question was charmed enough.  a giggle here and there,  complimenting someone’s jokes,  speaking fondly of their achievements.. it was laughably easy.  however,  with him,  this mirage   ---   a hint of sincerity never left the outsider’s tone,  his intrigue now crossing the boundary of pretense.  𝒊𝒕   𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒅   𝒉𝒊𝒎   𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕.  human connection terrified the deity as the ambiguous nature of men could hurt him,  perhaps even traumatize him.

  therefor,  he was wary,  despite an open stance.  smile tugged on black - painted lips as gaze settled its focus ‘pon elliott’s visage.   ❝  your win was quite impressive, elliott,   ❞     ‘ james ’  spoke,  another alibi to protect true self from harm,    ❝  did my investment help?   ❞  

+ @psycchout​ !

[thunderolled-blog]

hc + their life outside the games? :>

➤ HEADCANONS || ACCEPT.

She’s not a fan or her fame outside of the games, and will try to avoid most interviews in effort to keep a more ‘normal’ life style while she can before going on to the next season since she’s a pretty spartan person. Especially now since she views her time in the Outlands as temporary so there’s no reason to load herself down and waste her credits on things she doesn’t need.

While she will partake in the rare interview between seasons, it’s more so as a way to sedate people so she can live in peace, and a way to ping her location or even the fact that she’s still alive to Jackson if he’s still alive.

[afraidofchange]

@psycchout​ - con’t. 

  “You heard me, Witt.” Anita’s tone remains serious despite his reaction. It’s the moments in between, the downtime that gives her ample opportunity to give advice - warranted or not. Her arms fold across her chest, leaning up against the edge of his quarters. 

 Anita almost laughs, but stifles it instead.

 “You’re no old dog. You’re like a puppy with A.D.D.     You wanna learn from the best? You have to pay attention.” 

[blothbathed-blog]

          THE  APEX  GAMES .   bloodhound  had  entered  the  games  numerous  times ,  and  left  with  their  own  championship .    this  time ,  however ,  they  were  paired  with  the  one  and  only  mirage .     they’d  heard  of  him ,  of  course  they  had ,  how  could  they  not ?   their  opinion  of  him ?    neutral .    they  were  not  one  to  judge .   blóðhundur  was  here  to  win .

         the  two  of  them  had  dropped  at  thermal  station .    while  investigating  the  loot  bins  and  buildings  for  supplies ,  they  listened ,  kept  an  eye  out  for  movement .   sigrún ,  one  of  their  ravens ,  kept  perched  on  their  shoulder .   so  far ,  they’d  collected  a  longbow ,  and  a  spitfire ,  as  well  as  decent  body  armor .   they’d  been  through this  more  than  enough  times  to  know  the  drill .

        bloodhound’s  masked  face  turned  to  their  squadmate .

           ❝        we  must  get  going ,     ❞   they  insist ,  turning  their  back  to  push  open  one  of  the  double  doors .    ❝      the  ring  is  destined  to  come .   it  is  unforgiving .     ❞

@psycchout​  liked .

[neurolinked-blog]

' you’re pissing me off ! ' ( hello

Mirage was flat on his back. Again.

They had been at this for the better half of an hour, wrestling and struggling until they were both winded and bone-tired. And each time they reset, the situation unfolded in a near repeat of the round before. Crypto was beginning to see Mirage’s frustration seeping through, his movements becoming more desperate as he sought out an angle that would send Crypto tumbling.

Instead, Crypto sits crouched above him, scrutinizing the other man with eyebrows raised.

“And here I thought I was dealing with a legend.” Crypto doesn’t bother to hide the amusement that slips through, lips quirked upwards in playful taunting.

He stands, offering Mirage a hand up. 

“You should use that anger instead of wasting it like you have been. It’s not getting you anywhere.”

With that piece of advice, he steps back a few paces, preparing for another round.