( ❝ ✖ ⁞ wishbone.

don’t FRET, precious, i’m here. step away from the WINDOW. go back to sleep. safe from pain and truth and choice, and other poison devils. xavier macek, 28

[charadev]

OVERWATCH SENTENCE STARTERS. (6/17).

“Yeah, I wouldn’t drink the coffee.”

“I didn’t want that life for you.”

“Initiating the hack.”

“Tell me your thoughts, my friend.”

“I hope nobody saw that.”

“Having trouble keeping up?”

“You were one a legend… but now? Just a shell.”

“You know nothing.”

“Lots of memories of this place. They weren’t all bad.”

“What if I gave you a chance to undo the choices you’ve made?”

“You got the beat down.”

“You’re on my naughty list.”

“You look like a guy who needs someone blown up.”

“That was going great… until the end.”

“I think I’d like to travel more.”

“Our world is worth fighting for.”

“Nailed it.”

“I thought so.”

“I give it a ten.”

“Can I get your autograph?”

“Like shooting fish in a barrel.”

“You were not meant for greatness.”

“Push off.”

“One of these days, someone is gonna put an end to you.”

“I’ve got a long memory.”

“Leave this to a professional.”

[xcviersm-blog]

[xcviersm-blog]

everettemple:

Everett was weird with his drinks – just like he was weird with everything. Usually he liked to be in a certain place with a particular type of people. Today, he was taking a risk purely because the event perked his interest. Taking the risk of being hounded with conversation when he wouldn’t want it, but apparently this time he was practically starting it. Maybe the day was willing to have his many sides come into play.

“It’s odd to think it is this way now. Back when the event happened surely it mustn’t have been looked at like this.” He was wise enough to know it could have nothing and everything to do with the ages but rather how violence was looked at with interest now more than ever.

     xavier agreed drunkenly and fervently. “ that’s because, back in the day... not everyone was so ---- i don’t know the word in english. but, it’s strange. listen to me, i sound like an old man. “ he was a vampire, sure, but only a year and a half, two years, older than his real self. he waited for the day he told someone he was ninety years old and looked, still, this way: thirty-six or so, depending on facial hair. the vampire lazily gripped his glass and downed the rest of the drink in it, asking for another one. the bartender seemed bewildered for a quick second up until he must have realized what xavier was. a vampire needed twice the alcohol and for xavier, three times. getting drunk in prison was real gut rot and every ulcer said his behavior now was no better. “ but, anyway, “ he continued, “ it’s fucked up. and i bet you’re right. “

[xcviersm-blog]

scoutmacek:

“ i’m sorry. out of the two of us, which have gotten caught and jailed ? ”

     “ it’s like i tell you things just so you can hold them over my head, isn’t it ? “ he grinned widely at her, then put down the rest of his full glass of whiskey. “ tell me what you did while you were away. “ he needed to hear the adventure.

[xcviersm-blog]

scoutmacek:

“ oh you haven’t heard the worst of it. ” like spilling secrets mixed perfectly into the shared facade of normalcy between them. pure nerves wrapped around pure comfort. and him. “ i stole your last name. ”

     it took him a moment to piece it together, but when he did ---- “ scout macek ? you sound like you're on the run. “

[xcviersm-blog]

scoutmacek:

“ i’m sorry. ” and she genuinely thought she meant it. “ this is how it is. this is my life. i can’t be liz because she’s dead. i’m barely scout as it is but at least it’s something to be. ” she shouldn’t have come out this late – this high. with this xavier. how the fuck did she get here ?

     “ ‘ scout ‘ ? “ he questioned. “ like from the american novel ? “ they had read it together when learning english. it was supposedly formative; a novel for young adults learning the complexities of literature and its history. he was drunk and he couldn’t picture anything she was saying into sense.

[xcviersm-blog]

scoutmacek:

“ you know… i don’t go by that anymore, ” she let out like a secret.  “ eliza. liz. had to change it up, you know… after. ”

     he nodded silently, his head hanging slightly, then perking back up for a weak attempt at a joke. “ didn’t have phones where you changed it up, huh ? “ he muttered.

[xcviersm-blog]

scoutmacek:

“ Well. Better not break the streak now, ” she grinned, turning her back to him as if to walk away.

     “ yeah, but your full name’s eliza, so it’s fine, i think. i’m foggy on the rules, but as a dishonest man, that sounds right. “

[xcviersm-blog]

scoutmacek:

“ that’s stealing, ” she sing-songed like the perfect angel she was, who would never thieve or lie or take from others.

     “ right. oh, no, “ he replied with a mostly straight face, a hint of amusement sharpening his cheekbones. “ i’ve never met a dishonest liz in my life. “

[xcviersm-blog]

scoutmacek:

     “ obviously. ” she crouched down and picked up one of the upside-down masks, placing it over her face. “ when did we both become so bad ? ”

     “ probably somewhere between the prison tattoos and b&e’s, right ? “ he reached over with a drunken arm and pried the mask out of her fingers. “ this is insensitive, remember ? “ xavier reminded her.

[xcviersm-blog]

scoutmacek:

     “ You would burn down a church for me, but you wouldn’t let them make creepy masks and turn me into a legend ? “ Her words were covered in lilt but her face feigned pure hurt. “ I thought you cared about me. ”

     “ i did not burn the church down for you. i burned the church down and you were on my mind. ---- wow. listen to me. when will you learn that i’m too cool to do anything on purpose, liza ? obviously. “

[xcviersm-blog]

auroradelacroix:

“Is it?” Aurora asked, tone entirely too hard to convey any real curiosity. She hadn’t meant it to come out so flat. But somewhere between honest disinterest and sugar coating it, sounding honey-tongued had lost.

Sure, making a spectacle out of a victim was fucked. But that was just the way of things. She was here for the bitter taste on her tongue, and the excuse to – for once – not feel like standing, breathing, being anything but conniving was a missed opportunity.

The person to her right was a stranger. Someone with only as much room to harm her as she had them. Someone with, likely, as much alcohol in their system as her.

‘She’s dead.” She hummed, but the words fell softly this time. As harsh against the bustling atmosphere as snow packing down beneath the weight of a foot. Which was to say, not harshly at all. Soft, barely audible.

“You can only mourn something you were never a part of so deeply. After that you have to involve alcohol in some form or another, right? I think that’s just… how time works.”

     flat, he liked. mostly, his natural inflection would be flat. if he weren’t being a spectacle, or something to truly listen to ( an asshole, in his case ), he would sound flat. he didn’t reinvent himself, he just started deciding to take the smooth part of being flat. he worked on finding a balance, where he could be the one-hundred-eighty degrees laid out perfectly. it was what persecuting yourself felt like. it was what he did.

     “ time, “ he said, shaking his head. he had learned a few things about time recently, being years apart from his own age. even three was strange. he wondered how hundred-year-old men looked in the mirror and saw themselves at all. plastic surgery was made for vampires. “ that sounds like how an alcoholic works. “

[xcviersm-blog]

scoutmacek:

     “ so you’re the reason they didn’t make a scary holiday out of my death back home. ”

     “ no, i think everybody back home decided that that would be insensitive --- and whether or not i helped them make that decision, has nothing to do with it. “

[xcviersm-blog]

everettemple:

Everett was not a holiday person; absolutely nothing like you would depict one to be, either. Though this one appealed to him, more or less for obvious reasons but it was okay because apparently in this town his opinion was okay to have. Or at least for just one day. It was relieving. He liked it, and the man was not wearing a mask or costume simply for the reason that he felt that his self was the best choice for the event.

“You mean the theme? Obviously if people think so, they’re not afraid to make a party out of it.” It said a lot for humanity.

     a drunken xavier scoffed and tasted lemon, like it had been laced with his whiskey, or the whole bottle. he was sure there was a citrus undertone to it when drinking it, but it was hardly something a person like him would take in. people would smell their scotch and spread it evenly over their tongue and he held a firm belief that those people were too burgouise to have a real opinion; it was revoked by him, personally. that was his new way of recounting old times, like breaking into one of those types of men’s houses and taking their pills, or writing “ paid ” on their bills and simultaneously stealing cash.

     his drunken smile said he didn’t actually care. he liked to think he did. “ they don’t. everyone’s desensitized as fuck ---- so much so, that they don’t know. “

[xcviersm-blog]

     xavier liked this holiday because it meant he could drink. in fact, xavier liked most festivities because they meant he could drink. however, it managed to change effects upon converting to vampirism, like it was a religion he had a choice in. some days, still --- days like these --- xavier was angry about what she had done to him.

     a young man passed him in a gruesome mask and he frowned, then tried for an awkward grin, something that implied what he was about to say was probably going to be something that anyone in earshot wasn’t going to like. “ isn’t it... poor girl. i mean, that’s insensitive, isn’t it ? “ he asked, head turning and eyes falling on the first person close enough to him.

[xcviersm-blog]

↪☃️

     “ if i say googling how to make napalm, is that a little too anarchist cookbook of me ? what if i say porn ? “

     “ boxers and a shirt. or more if it’s cold. i’m not gonna put anything on unless i have to. “

[ritchassbaxterd]

domestic headcanons meme!

Send a symbol to hear the following about my muse…

☾ Sleeping habits ☼ Favorite time of day ☂ Favorite weather ¿ Term for the TV device, whether it be “clicker”, “remote”, or something else ↪ Internet browsing activities ☹ Response to a leaky faucet or other household problem ♡ What their wedding invitations would look like ☃ What they wear around the house ♆ The worst kind of neighbor they could have, and how they deal with them ♨ Their cooking ability (or lack thereof) ✂ How well they do yardwork (or blow up the lawnmower) ♟ If they like board games, and how good they are at ‘em ✧ How clean their living space is now, and/or would be ideally ♜ Interior decorating aesthetic ♘ Any pets they might have ☗ What you’d find in their cabinets ⚒ What you’d find in their toolshed (if they’d have one) ▀ What they’d hide under the bed ○ What tune their doorbell has, if not a standard ding-dong ☺ What their welcome (or not-so-welcome) mat would say ☻ How late they stay up ♒ If they do their laundry in a timely manner ☆ How they’d throw parties (what would go on at them, refreshments, etc) ✓ What a typical Tuesday night looks like ❥ How they’d invite you home for the night (yes, it could be a pickup line)

Feel free to reblog and add more!