#rattledrake

[goldenfists]

200 random dialogue prompts // accepting 'you're not a very convincing liar.' ( @rattledrake )

the commentary made him halt, and somehow, he let the silence pour a drink for it. he looked down for a minute whilst he pondered, noting how his reflection jittered in the puddle betwixt their boots ⸻ amber spehres, hair that refused to behave on corporate schedules, a face that knew how to make a whole room behave on his plan. he tasted copper on memory and sugar in the present. lying? that was not truly his thing. ❝ lucky for me... i guess... ❞ vocals were gravel, scraped by a pinpoint jest that was prone to come. ❝ i don't sell lies... i rent outcomes. ❞ dry as an invoice... easy as a sin. ❝ just saying the business is legit... ish. ❞

sett shrugged, a continental shift, casual. ❝ if you think about it... some problems need stitches. some need a ring and a bell. i've got the latter if you want the fun. ❞ he hooked a thumb towards the cube of reinforced glass across the street: a fight box with cameras in its bones and bettors on every floor, his little cathedral of lawful violence. the old pits had traded sand and spit for led ropes and a ruleset that kept corporate lawyers purring. the crowd, however, still wanted the same sacrament: two men enter, one leaves. ❝ well... i also do outpatient care in case you're afraid of having your chrome shattered. does that make you less worried, princess? ❞

[2077smerc]

“how about we don’t do that.”

V quirks a brow, a sharp little laugh slipping past her lips. “bold of you to assume i listen when people tell me what not to do.” she leans in, elbows on her knees, studying him with a lazy sort of intensity — the kind that says she’s deciding if he’s joking or dead serious. the smirk doesn’t fade. “…’course, if you got a better idea, Red Line, i’m all ears. but if you’re just trying to play babysitter, you’re wasting your breath.”

[bckyardheathen]

❛ you can’t stuff it down. you can’t hold it in all alone. no one can. we have to let it out. ❜ @rattledrake

finger ran along the rim of her glass, blue eyes trained on a drop of condensation that was slowly running down. "do we?" bambi found herself asking, tone light and curious even though his statement made her feel as though her stomach dropped ten feet. if she couldn't hold it alone, how could someone else share the load? it didn't feel right, didn't feel fair. her problems would be nobody else's burden,.

fingers plucked the maraschino cherry that set atop the ice in her drink and she bit into it unceremoniously, pulling the stem and dropping it onto a cocktail napkin. for someone else, for a JOB, she might try to do that thing of 'oh, watch how i can turn this into a knot using just my tongue!'... but luckily, she didn't have to worry about all that right now.

"i don't like givin' anything away for free -- especially information." a shrug, a small smile on perfectly painted lips. "trade you? a story for a story?"