List of Stuff for BJ and more Unsolicited Lore, plus the playlist.
I fucked up on the poll so i'll just post both of them wkelrnksdg. Also since it's in no particular order and my adhd's being a little Prick, it's kind of a mess. If it retreads old ground, hopefully it's giving more context to it and not just repeating the same thing. Playlist will be at the end H
~ Retains heat pretty well. If he was sunbathing for an extended period of time, he’d probably hold that temp for 3-4 hours before he returned back to room temp. Can get above normal human body temps this way.
~ Uses his wings to make himself look more imposing. Usually this ends badly since it’s most certainly an indoors conversation, and those things don’t fit indoors usually.
~ Is constantly worried he isn’t that great to hug/be in physical contact with since he’s cold all the time and what-not. Because of this he usually won’t initiate physical affection unless he just finished sunbathing or something.
~ Can, in fact, turn into a bird. A blue jay to be specific. All reapers can do this as it’s most cost effective to interact with the real/physical world this way. This does not mean they act like the birds they disguise themselves as though.
~ Currently is holding onto Grayson’s coat for them, after Sebastian finally gave it to him after getting tired of the constant Theft. Doesn’t wear it often because it feels weird, but does privately or to feel more secure.
~ Since it’s warm and kind of heavy, it relieves some of the dysmorphia from being room temperature all the time and weighing almost nothing due to being a ghost basically (21g normally). Wearable weighted blanket essentially.
~ Doesn’t know IDU!pico that well at this point, but doesn’t have a good impression of him. Mostly because Pico tried to kill him once, but since his face was covered BJ doesn’t know what he looks like. Only that he’s familiar and probably hates him by the way he keeps glaring holes into his back.
~ Doesn’t sleep often (doesn’t need to) since he most definitely will have nightmares about his death. Most Reapers make peace with it at some point, but since his death was so violent and emotionally charged, it’s unlikely he’ll let it go anytime soon. 0% chance to make him talk about it either unless he's in a breakdown or something.
~ That being said, being warm/in a place with people he knows and likes will make him doze off. Snores loudly. Sleeps like a brick when he doesn’t dream. Good luck waking him up when he’s not dreaming.
~ Still can sing, he doesn’t do it anymore on account of his lungs being Fucked and fried from smoke inhalation. Has traded this off to focus more on his guitar skills whenever he can. He does miss it though, and is easily carried away when he does feel better.
~ What he doesn’t know is that the coughing is more of a psychological effect of his death, and if he’s really into something, he won’t cough at all.
~ If he likes you well enough, he will start giving you his own feathers (the smaller ones from his blue jay form). Usually in the form of keychains/charms he put together himself, but sometimes he’ll give just the feathers.
~ All Reapers have a ‘Reaper’s Cane’. BJ’s is a microphone stand/looks like one without the microphone. He has taken to using it to great effectiveness as a blunt weapon.
~ Made a promise to Hannah a long time ago when they meet by coincidence as children. Immensely guilty that he broke it and left her alone for two years without any other friends/support. Has a new promise to himself to be there when she eventually does die, no matter what the cause would be.
~ The most Chronic of Worriers, but only in regards to people he loves/is close to. If he doesn't know you well and you snip at him, he will snip back and escalate. This will result in a fistfight where BJ strikes first if it's not broken up.
~ On the other hand, he enjoys sitting around and watching other people go about their business. Parallel play :)
~ Cannot cook, please don't ask him to do that. He hasn't touched a stove in two years and has a fear of fire. He will turn your Biscuits to Charcoal Briquettes and Cower when it catches fire.
~ Theoretically would be able to carry someone in flight, but just one occupant and probably not anywhere in his home dimension/timeline. Probably no set weight limit for that person? Just don’t expect him to carry an entire truck or whatever lmao.
~ Was initially nervous to leave Hannah alone for rgbfverse stuff, but Grayson pushed him to go. Both to give Hannah a breather, and so that BJ can unwind and not worry about her for a bit. It can’t be healthy to stress over this one detail for days on end, can it?
And here's the playlist lmao. I'll add to both lists whenever I have an Idea or listen to a song that fits.
okay this is like, semi related. Pre-RGBverse stuff let's call it. My adhd addled brain can't figure out if it's consistent or not or if the convo jumps around too much but i also,,,,,kinda too tired to bother now, jkerlsdg.
Word Count: 1446
Hannah (IDU!gf) and BJ (IDU!bf) talk :) it's completely normal.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Sometimes it’s better, sometimes it’s worse. But whether he wants it or not, the smoke stings in his throat and burns in his lungs. A too bright fire flashes in his vision, his eyes already too dry to see anything beyond the white, black, and licks of orange dancing in mockery.
He’s dying, he belatedly recognizes. He’s dying, and someone killed him.
“Your death is an unrighteous one.” He hears Grayson say, days later when he finally stops running away. The older Reaper hangs over him like a vulture, eyeing its prey sprawled out on an open field. “...Come with me.”
The burning never goes away. It crawls on his skin and leaves him hating it. A persistent itch lingers in his lungs. The air hangs thick with black smoke and the scent of burning plastic. It’s his death all over again. He’s dead but it’s like his mind hasn’t fully caught up with the fact.
So like a rat in a wheel, it goes. And goes. And goes and goes and—
“BJ…? BJ! Liam!”
He jolts awake, body spasming as he immediately falls off of the bed he’s borrowing and onto the expensive hardwood floor. Between the mess that he’s made himself and the light thump of his landing, he’s no worse for wear thankfully.
Where the hell was he again…?
“...BJ?” Hannah’s face looks down at him from atop her bed, worry written all over her face. “...Are you okay?”
“Huh? Uh, yeah?” He replies, drawing a smile onto his face as he pulls himself upright. “Why?”
She doesn’t look convinced.
“You were having a nightmare again, weren’t you?”
He deflates instantly. Well, that’s kind of on him for trying to lie to his girlfriend.
“Kinda. Reapers aren’t supposed to really sleep, y’know?” he relents, averting his gaze. At least he doesn’t get the morning sleep haze like he used to. “...how long did I…?”
She rolls her eyes.
“Just ten or so minutes. Come here, you dummy,” she patted the mattress, inviting him back. “I’m still picking that new full body mirror my parents want me to replace, remember?.”
Instead of actually getting on the bed, BJ shuffles closer and sets his chin on the edge of the mattress. To accommodate, Hannah rotates her laptop halfway so that they both are able to see the screen.
“...They’re all so expensive.” Is his immediate reaction, seeing prices all the way to a thousand on the curated list Hannah had been given.
Her parents were still the same, after all; absolute control freaks in ever minute detail. BJ’s not sure how much energy they would need to micromanage all this, or how they have it at all. Seemed like a complete waste of time.
“...Not really? They’re only three-hundred dollars. That’s still on the lower end. My old one was in the five hundreds.”
He makes a face at that statement. Sometimes he forgets that she was also immensely rich and not raised in a frugal, stingy household like he was.
“Still, I didn’t think that Sebastian would destroy the old one,” Hannah remarked offhandedly as she continued down the list. “He seemed…fun, if a little gross.”
BJ winced. It was technically more of his fault, since he had riled up the older Reaper. But only because he would budge on who ‘Pinnochio’ was. Honestly he should’ve asked Rammy to accompany him. At least she was reasonable about her outbursts, and was liable to smash something out of nowhere.
‘Mommy issues: old man version.’ Not that Fafnir could be measured on a human age scale, but everything about her had promptly flew over his head.
“This one looks like my old one,” Hannah said, snapping him out of his musings as she pointed to her screen.
“...isn’t it kind of small?” He scoots further onto the bed to get a better look at the screen.
“I mean, maybe? But it has a wooden frame and backing. Maybe it’ll stand up to a little beating. Plus, it’s not like you need to walk through it to get to your…spooky dead people land, right?” She jabs, smiling.
“Why would I need a mirror for that…?” he asks, genuine confusion setting in.
“I’m just joking, BJ. There’s a lot of media that uses mirrors as portals is all.” She pushes the laptop aside after shutting it off. “TVs too. I guess anything with a screen can be a conduit to the supernatural.”
“In fiction,” he amends.
“Yes, in fiction,” she agrees. “...How is that side doing, by the way?”
“Huh?” He sits up a little straighter.
“You know. With Sebastian. I know Grayson left recently, but I don’t know what that really means for you. You don’t really talk about him now. You used to whine all the time about how he wasn’t letting you steal his coat or taught you something new.”
“Them,” he corrects as a habit. “It’s um…” he wrestles with the words to talk about it.
“You’re doing that thing with your hands again…” Hannah says, pointing out his fidgeting fingers in his lap. “...is it that bad?”
“No! It’s not bad, I still see them. They’re not gone or anything,” he crossed his arms.
“And the others?”
That question was harder to answer.
“...I dunno. I don't really go to Veilside anymore. Everyone I give a shit about is here; you, Grayson, my parents...”
“What about Sebastian?” Hannah asks.
“He’s a Reaper. I don’t need to look out for him,” he replies defensively. The skull-headed man was downright obnoxious to be around, what with the constant teasing and jokes that might as well come from a twelve-year-old’s mouth. The guy was at least five hundred…
“Rammy?”
“She’s busy.” Looking out for her still living family and all. Truthfully, they were both doing the same thing, so he can understand.
“Grayson…?”
“I told youuuuu, they’re not a Reaper anymore! They’re doing like…rehab or something. I dunno,” he mumbled the last part. He last visited maybe two weeks ago now, back when they first woke up. Not sure what they were doing now, but they were probably fine without him.
Hannah only sighed at the rebuttals, weak as they were.
“Is there really nothing better for you to do other then…haunting me?”
“Hey! I go out and do other things!”
“For three days out of a seven day week, because I made you.” She immediately pointed out, an unimpressed look directed at him.
“Guh.” He wilted.
“...I’m just worried okay? Not that dying but still being around is normal or anything, but you’re always around me and I don’t hear about how you’re doing. You weren’t even this clingy before the accident.” She kneels down on the ground and pries his hand out of the deathgrip he has himself in. Her hand is warm, as it usually is nowadays, and BJ finds himself reluctantly letting her have it. “So can you tell me why?”
He could just brush it off, take his hand back, and go back to being a shithead about his own feelings. But it’s just Hannah. She has a right to know, wouldn’t she?
“...I have to be around when you die, y’know?” He lets himself say, “So your soul doesn’t drift off and—”
Not that the universe wants him to finish, anyways.
The shrill call of his girlfriend’s ringtone cuts through the air, drowning him out. He falls quiet anyways, as she has to answer it. There’s only two people still living in this world that have her number, afterall, and they’re the kind of people who don’t like to wait.
Hannah’s face is stone still as she listens. The call cuts without her having said a single word beyond a simple noise of affirmation.
“Sorry, I have to go. They’re…parked in the front already. Tell me next time?” She says, standing up. He stands up with her and follows her to the bedroom door.
“...yeah. Okay.” Regret and guilt stings his lungs, but he keeps himself from coughing.
The door closes, leaving him in an empty house. The warmth of her hand was already leaving his, even as he held it against his chest. A chest filled with ash and soot and that no longer intakes air, of a heart that no longer beats, of flesh that isn’t warm.
‘...I don’t want you ending up as demon fuel, with no one to guide you.’ He finishes for no one in particular.
He supposes he’ll follow her around now. Just out of reach, but ready if the worst comes to past. It’s the least he can do after going back on his word, after all, even if the circumstances were completely out of his hands.
I'm Storm [He/They/It | 22] and this mess is where i store my one single braincell.
Artist (kind of) & Hobbyist Writer
Full of Social Anxiety
Professional Overthinker
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