#thedecomposer

[exceptvodka]

Just a reminder that I'm a terrible RP parter but I have you guys drafted!!

I love you for your patience :)

[pissyghost]

≈ ¤ ♡ ♦ ▲ ☀ ☼ ◄ ► ☞ ✌ ☾ Vance & Des ♥

≈ - Stubborn

¤ - Honest

♡ - Sincere

♦ - Generous

▲ - Loyal

☀ - Imaginative

☼ - Protective

◄ - Independent

► - Considerate

☾ - A good listener

☞ - Brave

[pissyghost]

the-decomposer // santa baby

"So...since you got me the cat, I thought I should do a little somethin' extra for you. In the Christmas spirit, you know?" Violet grinned, biting the corner of her lip. An atheist in the Christmas spirit -- what an oxymoron. But she couldn't help her excitement, along with the slight nervousness: she wanted to show exactly how much she appreciated his gifts. And what better way to show that than singing possibly the most over-sexualized Christmas song there is?

[exceptvodka]

6 Drafts and 1 Starter owed!

I'll get to everything ASAP! <3 Happy Holidays my lovelies :)

[exceptvodka]

Hey guys! I'm gonna be a bit busy because of holiday stuff and all.

I've got you guys drafted:

insanityenforcer

the-decomposer

tommy-larson

I will do replies as soon as I can! :)

[pissyghost]

the-decomposer // Troubled Mind

Violet was sitting alone in the Recreation room. Or, what she liked to call, the wrecked creations room. It was the assortment pack of the entire ward. Anorexics, bulimics, alcoholics, druggies, OCDs, the depressed. Most were absentmindedly staring at some dumb ass movie playing, some were playing cards, and others were sitting alone with their heads down.

She was one of the latter. Every day, from four to six, she was forced to sit in that room: her psychiatrist's attempt to get her to socially interact. All it actually did was make her pick at the white bandages on her wrists, a reminder that she couldn't do anything. She couldn't even kill herself properly, for gods sakes. The girl remembered the day that she decided to end it all, she had written a note, laid in the bathtub, and waited to bleed out. Too bad her dad had left work early to hook up with his student.

Since she'd arrived at the hospital, she hadn't been allowed to leave. Her stuff was shipped there, she wasn't even allowed to say goodbye: it might've been too triggering for her or some shit like that. Everything the doctors did for her was to make sure she wasn't triggered, whatever the hell that even meant. They gave her pills constantly, but ever since she was seven, she'd known how to hie them under her tongue. No way were they just going to drug her and make her better. She didn't want to be better, she knew she was broken and had accepted it. No one would remember Violet Harmon, so why bother living as her?

The doors to the room opened, and she slowly turned her head to glare at who'd just entered. Her hair, once blonde and silky, sat as long wisps framing her thin pale face. Believe it or not, the hospital had done no good for her. She had gotten even skinnier, paler, and, well, more fragile. The boy who'd entered the room was somewhat familiar, she saw him around. Dark hair, dark eyes, pale like her. But she'd never struck up a conversation, no. Making friends wasn't something she was good at.

[whitelaceandxstrange-archive]

tumblr never notified me you replied

[exceptvodka]

+the-decomposer

This fucking town is shit-- and I don't even know one person I could score some good coke from. Shit, don't look at me like that. The whole world knows that I'm not an angel, and I do what I want regardless of their opinions. I'm pretty sure that was proven when I flipped a god damned frat bus. Oops. Fortunately, Fiona saved that story from being brought to the media..well, no thanks, actually-- because the bitch slit my fucking throat without any hesitation. 'A safe haven for witches', my ass.

I am cross-legged, out on the porch with cigarette smoke pooling from my parted lips when I notice a figure ahead just at the foot of the gate. Of course, my defense goes up, not visibly, though..not to the pair of darkened eyes that now look upon me. Out of sheer, burning curiosity, I open the gate with a flick of my wrist into thin air. "Lost, little boy?" I snicker darkly, pulling another drag from my cigarette, my hazel fixtures focused and beckoning him closer with the mere thought of it.