Yikes

Ryan / M / 35 I do odd jobs for a living. Gavin said my blog had to be creepy. Not really sure why. [[ Indie FAHC Vagabond RP blog ]]

[naragun-deactivated20161113]

I highly recommend you follow the person I reblogged this from.

[gtadoolz]

❝  w e are the            b e g i n n i n g                          of the e n d.  ❞

hey guys! i’m looking for people to interact with! please reblog this if you can. check out my rules before following, please, and don’t be afraid to approach me about plotting!! ♥

[yikesdottumblerdotcom-blog]

Prey ☠ CLOSED

Hunting was the family trade.

In a cabin in the woods just outside the city, listening to the wind whistle through the trees and that old drafty hole he hadn’t gotten around to fixing yet, Ryan sat forward at a worn writing desk, cleaning a rifle older than he was.

It was evening, and although it might have been unexpected, Ryan wasn’t there that night because he needed a place to lie low. For once, the police weren’t coming for him, weren’t even looking -- at least, not actively. That didn’t mean Ryan was there for fun, or even that he wanted to be; this was family obligation, plain and simple: abiding by his grandfather’s last will and testament.

Full moon nights were spent in the cabin.

Most of the time, nothing even happened. Ryan considered it superstition. As someone often called one himself, he found monsters were rarely so predictable. It had become routine by now though -- the first few times it had been curiosity that drove him to stay the night, then the next few, skepticism. There were a couple where it was fear. Now, though, after years of it, it was just routine.

Ryan looked up at the sound of snapping twigs, but didn’t stop his work, and soon looked back down. Some sounds that were strange for the city were normal here, and that was still difficult to remember. He wasn’t alone here; hunting hadn’t gotten rid of the squirrels, the rabbits, or the deer.

It was the second snap that made him jolt out of his seat, pull on his jacket, and grab a readied gun, marching out the door.

That snap was a bear trap, and it wasn’t the only sound.

[imaginary-legendary-hamilton]

WRITING PROMPTS

WRITING PROMPTS FOR DAYS Feel free to request any of these for any character.

1. “Do you want me to leave?” 2. “I swear it won’t happen again.” 3. “I’m not jealous.” 4. “You can’t keep doing this.” 5. “I’m going to take care of you, okay?” 6. “You can’t die. Please don’t die.” 7. “You did what?!” 8. “Were you ever going to tell me?” 9. “Don’t ask me that.” 10. “I might have had a few shots.” 11. “What’s with the box?” 12. “Say it!” 13. “I could kiss you right now!” 14. “Are you done with that?” 15. “Are you still awake…?” 16. “Excuse you?” 17. “This is all your fault!” 18. “I shouldn’t be in love with you.” 19. “I could kill you right now!” 20. “Just admit I’m right.” 21. “That doesn’t even make sense.” 22. “That’s irrational.” 23. “Just pretend to be my date.” 24. “Are you really going to leave without asking me the question you’ve been dying to ask me?” 25. “When you love someone, you don’t just stop. Ever. Even when people roll their eyes or call you crazy… even then. Especially then!” 26. “I think I’ve been holding myself from falling in love with you all over again.” 27. “I’m not going to apologise for this. Not anymore.” 28. “That’s almost exactly the opposite of what I meant.” 29. “It must be hard with your sense of direction, never being able to find your way to a decent pickup line.” 30. “Can I sit here? The other tables are full.” 31. “You weren’t supposed to laugh!” 32. “This is, by far, the dumbest thing you’ve ever done.” 33. “I’m not going to stop poking you until you give me some attention.” 34. “These stars are nothing compared to the ones I’ve seen in your eyes.” 35. “Before I do this, I need you to know that I have always loved you.” 36. “Did I say that out loud?” 37. “Do you think they could have loved me?” 38. “Everyone keeps telling me you’re the bad guy.” 39. “How long have you been standing there?” 40. “Have I ever lied to you?” 41. “Have you lost your fucking mind?” 42. “His ego is so visible; I can almost watch it grow.” 43. “I am not losing you again!” 44. “I don’t know why I’m crying.” 45. “I had a nightmare about you and I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.” 46. “I just need to be alone right now.” 47. “When I picture myself happy… It’s with you.” 48. “I made a mistake.” 49. “I may be an idiot, but I’m your idiot.” 50. “I need you to forgive me.” 51. “I see the way you look at me when you think I’m not looking.” 52. “I think I’m in love with you and that scares me half to death.” 53. “I’m flirting with you.” 54. “I’m not good enough for you.” 55. “I fell in love with my best friend.” 56. “I’m sorry, what? I keep getting lost in your eyes.” 57. “I’m up to the challenge.” 58. “I’ve been in love with you my entire life. Ever since the day I first met you.” 59. “I’m yours.” 60. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to seduce me.” 61. “If you go anywhere near them, you’ll have to deal with me!” 62. “It’s okay to cry…” 63. “What do you mean? It’s exciting!” 64. “Talk to me.” 65. “Look at me—just breathe, okay?” 66. “Look, I don’t have much time, but I wanted to say I love you.” 67. “Oh my god! You’re in love with them!” 68. “Well, this is where I live.” 69. “We finish it the same way we started—together.” 70. “What are you afraid of?” 71. “You are the single best thing that has ever happened to me.” 72. “You deserve so much better.” 73. “You don’t have to stay.” 74. “You don’t know you the way I do.” 75. “You fainted, straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention, you didn’t have to go to such extremes.” 76. “You need to wake up because I can’t do this without you.” 77. “You shouldn’t have even been there!” 78. “You weren’t supposed to hear that.” 79. “You’re safe now. I’ve got you.” 80. “Teach me?” 81. “We’re in the middle of a thunderstorm and you want to stop and feel the rain?” 82. “Looks like we’ll be stuck here for a while.” 83. “Just once.” 84. “I can’t believe you talked me into this.” 85. “It’s not what it looks like.” 86. “I got you a present.” 87. “Hey! I was gonna eat that!” 88. “See, now, what that so bad?”.” 89. “You’re the best part of me.” 90. “I don’t want to think about what I’d be like without you.” 91. “Can I hold your hand?” 92. “Let’s move in together.” 93. “It’s a real shame nobody asked for your opinion.” 94. “What time is it?” 95. “Just wait a second.” 96. “Here, let me.” 97. “You’re so cute when you pout like that.” 98. “Hold me back!’ 99. “I don’t care what they said, it doesn’t mean shit!” 100. “I adore you.”

[yikesdottumblerdotcom-blog]

// can anyone recommend any good mogar (from xray and vav) blogs? or michael blogs with xray and vav verses?

[gtadoolz]

🢒 Death Valley 🢐

[yikesdottumblerdotcom-blog]

gtadoolz:

Jeremy can feel the tears stinging his eyes, even with how dry the air is making them. Or, maybe that’s part of why he can feel the tears. Even with his ever-present sunglasses (sports-strapped to his head for this particular mission, shoutout to Michael for that shit right there), the air fucking stings.

He’s going to kill Geoff for this, probably. No more “I’m fine with whatever”s pertaining to heists. He’s not.

The reality of the moment crashes into Jeremy when his crewmate’s voice breaks over the wind in his ears. Pull. Everything in him is tense, is praying that everything goes alright as he tugs the cord. The sudden jerk hurts his shoulders like a bitch, which he guesses is his own fault, but at least the damn chute works. That’s a plus. He grinds his teeth as he keeps his eyes on their destination, hands finding his directional cords. The kid isn’t exactly bad at steering himself, but he would absolutely look paler than normal if one was close enough.

Ryan can’t see Jeremy clearly, not from this position, at this altitude, and with this wind forcing him to squint as it does. That doesn’t, however, mean that Ryan loses sight of him, and it doesn’t mean he’s too stupid to notice that maybe jumping from a skyscraper isn’t Jeremy’s idea of a good time.

That’s okay. It’s not for everybody.

Ryan keeps himself behind Jeremy, giving up his lead in altitude so that he can keep an eye on his compatriot. It’s a slow cruise to the other building, the cabling Ryan holds gradually unspooling behind them both; it doesn’t take much concentration to make the necessary micro-adjustments and keep a straight line toward their destination; they only spend a couple minutes in the air, but it still feels long.

Ryan lets Jeremy land first -- or at least, waits until Jeremy is over the appropriate building -- before he comes in for his own.

The distraction of watching Jeremy catches up to him then, when the altitude loss and the obscuring darkness cause Ryan to plant his stumbling boots directly onto the rooftop ventilation ducting. He thuds and thumps and the steel wobbles and echoes beneath him, while his chute falls slack behind him.

“... That’s probably fine,” he says quietly, shrugging himself free of the pack as quickly as possible regardless, and sweeping his eyes nervously over the rooftop for Jeremy.

[shoothappy-blog]

You might have to excuse me

I’ve lost control of all my senses

Spoilers for Eleven Little Roosters

[gtadoolz]

🢒 Death Valley 🢐

[yikesdottumblerdotcom-blog]

gtadoolz:

Jeremy fumbles with the straps, frowning as the damn things won’t cooperate. Maybe it’s just his shaking hands that won’t adjust them right.. He manages, eventually. It’s almost comfortable, even. At least now it wouldn’t rip his shoulders out or anything.

“Listen, it’s not. The first time I’ve used a parachute or anything, dude. It’s fine. I got it.” It’s not the first time he’s used a parachute and, if he fucked up, it wouldn’t be his first time dying in one either. He shudders vaguely, as though his subconscious recalls the memory. ..He’ll pass it off as the wind being cold.

A little more fumbling with the straps, just to make sure, and Lil J’s stepping up next to the Vagabond. A quick glance down, and the sheer height makes his stomach twist. He swallows down the feeling. “Yeah.. Okay.” Brief pause, deep breath. “One.. two… three-”

And he’s off, heart falling a little harder than his body.

Ryan takes a step back before pushing himself forward off the ledge. He goes forward like a diver, arms spread and back arched, reveling a little in the drama of it. After all, what was the point of a heist if you weren’t going to have a little fun?

He descends faster than Jeremy because of his posture, but that just means he builds more speed, the wind ripping around his body. As he rotates himself upright, he casts a glance toward his partner.

Jeremy doesn’t look like he’s having quite as much fun.

“Okay!” Ryan yells, sobering somewhat. Time to get back to business. He strains his voice to be heard. “Pull!”

He grabs the cord of his chute and pulls down, and it yanks him upward with enough force to throw his stomach into his chest; his speed means he coasts higher upward with the wind, and he swings his body to get the most out of it.

Still, his eyes fix on Jeremy; hands reach for the directional cords, and he twists just slightly off-course to get a better look.

He figures he’d probably never hear the end of it if he let the kid splat on the pavement.

[yikesdottumblerdotcom-blog]

selectivemxteism:

His face blanched at the name. That was his name - his chosen name. He had spent months thinking of what to call himself and that was what he had come up with. Did this… pathetic man even dare to steal it? How did he even know?

“No, I don’t have a twin. I was an only child. I also don’t appreciate people stealing my identity.” He wanted to get to the bottom of this as fast as he could. This was making his stomach churn, chest tighten. He could feel the numbing cool of his voice slowly shutting down. “Before I change my mind about killing you, I’ll ask one more time. Who. Are. You.”

His voice sounded feeble now with the fast fading sound. He could feel the words on the tip of his tongue, but it was a hellish struggle to wrestle them out and form coherent sentences.

Ryan stood unsteadily, the toe of his right boot barely touching the ground; though listing slightly in even the gentlest breeze, he considered it an achievement just to stand.

His doppelganger threatened to kill him, and he considered the offer for a moment. There was something quite tempting about a hard reset with this injury. He clicked his tongue to the roof of his mouth, and made a thoughtful ‘hm.’

“No, that’s okay, I’ll just wait it out; it’s a good conversation we’re having here and I don’t really want to miss it,” he concluded cryptically.

About to open his mouth again, it was a noise outside -- a thump of wind or weight against something firm but hollow, like a dumpster, or the walls of the warehouse that currently held them -- that had him instead clenching his jaw and turning his head like a dog toward the source of the sound. For a moment, he was deadly quiet.

“Did you have someone else with you?” he whispered, reaching slowly into his jacket, careful about any rustling, shifting noises he might possibly make.

“Because either someone’s out there spying, or some raccoon is gonna have a very bad day.”

[yikesdottumblerdotcom-blog]

selectivemxteism:

A pause.

Slow blink, then a stiffening posture - protecting itself from any harm that may come its way - as he spoke next. “That can’t be right,” he managed to grit out, hissing through clenched jaw. “I think you’re mistaken. I’m the only Vagabond around here.”

He was feared, loved, hated. His name plastered across every bulletin, every news station - they knew his title, they feared his name. He didn’t appreciate liars and thieves.

This attack dog was territorial of his property - his home and his identity - and he would tear this man a new one if he was pulling Ryan’s leg. “Let’s try this again. Who are you.”

Ryan’s body was tense and taut, and in the brief times his gaze flicked away from his temporary captor, it was only to search for a way out, any way -- anything he could hobble toward, as unlikely as he knew that escape would be.

At the same time, the existential doubt in his mind began to share space with a morbid curiosity -- a human desire to get the bottom of the mystery. In his mind, he likened it to a child staring at a hot stove, with a hand slowly outstretching.

Bracing a hand against the concrete below, Ryan began to slowly push himself up. Skin paling rapidly and fingers shaking, his free hand raised in a placating gesture to the man glowering over him.

Not that he could say that he wouldn’t have also glowered, in that position.

“James,” he said, slowly, carefully enunciating every syllable. “Ryan. Haywood.

“The Vagabond.

“I don’t suppose you have a twin who just sort of happened to also start up a life of crime?”

In the wake of the immense pain coursing through his body, his jokes were shuddering and feeble.

[shoothappy-blog]

You might have to excuse me

I’ve lost control of all my senses

Spoilers for Eleven Little Roosters

[yikesdottumblerdotcom-blog]

[[ i am in the process of making Mistakes ]]

[gtadoolz]

🢒 Death Valley 🢐

[yikesdottumblerdotcom-blog]

gtadoolz:

… “Which one do you want? The rainbow one, or the Union Jack?” he asks. “This should go without saying but the British one is Gavin’s, so, fair warning. You know.”

The initial question is met with a quiet grumble. It’s not as though they could switch up their plan so last-minute for a dumb reason like Jeremy’s fear of heights. Unfortunately.

He steels himself with a deep breath, trying to soothe the nervous chattering in his head. Three years of not being able to die for real, and he’s still battling with himself mentally before heists. Thankfully, he’s fine once he gets in the zone – Jeremy’s brass knuckles (and perhaps his fists in general) have facilitated more deaths than he could count at this point, and he always managed to make tie up any loose ends at the end of most heists. Not much got past him.

“Yeah, yeah. I know.” He gives gentle huff; there’s no edge to his voice as he brings himself down.  “..I’ll be fine,” he assures, knowing that any kind of weakness would make him a hell of a lot easier to take out – would make the both of them easy targets – could wind up in accidents in the air. Respawns weren’t exactly.. predictable, either. It’d take them out of the heist, for sure.

He pauses for a moment, considering his options. For one thing, yes, he did know. Gavin wasn’t exactly the most.. careful of the crew.

“Rainbow, I guess?”

It’s not quite a question. He reaches out to take the pack and shrug it on, adjusting it so it doesn’t bite into his skin too much. He wasn’t particularly looking forward to this.

“Good choice.”

Ryan pulls on the remaining pack, carefully accommodating the cabling he has to haul with it. The questionable safety of the chute doesn’t seem to bother him, or maybe it’s just the routine of it; he buckles himself in and adjusts the straps as if on auto-pilot.

Ryan’s history with the crew stretches back much further than Jeremy’s -- and his history in crime is longer than that; in comparison with the new hire, he’d discovered his immortality rather quickly. If he seems unworried -- posture straight and eyes forward, stepping up onto the edge of the rooftop and overlooking the city below, tens of stories stretching down, down, down -- it’s because he is.

“So you know the deal, right?” he asks, turning his gaze over his shoulder at his partner. “With the-- cords and everything? Right, left, the whole thing?”

A breeze whips around him and he barely moves, eyes fixed on Jeremy. Say what you like about the Vagabond, he tries to look after his people.

The ones he likes, anyway.

“We’re going to jump on three. That’s on three, not go, we’re not saying go. You can count it if you want.”

[yikesdottumblerdotcom-blog]

selectivemxteism:

@yikesdottumblerdotcom

“—well, this makes total sense.”

he’s staring the other down, arms crossed in front of him, a frown on his face. he’s seen some weird shit in his time, but this? this takes the cake.

he began to circle the other - his doppelganger, you could say - and studied him, head tilting to the side. he circled like a predator circling its prey - a wild animal among domestics - and he watched with the eyes of a hawk. he stopped after a moment, standing in front of the other man, his frown deepening.

“who are you?”

This was inconvenient.

A series of sloppy, inconvenient mistakes led to this, a messy, inconvenient conclusion -- Ryan Haywood, one of the most feared men in Los Santos, knelt and unmasked before a man who looked familiar enough to rear a cold, nagging existential doubt in the back of Ryan’s mind.

It wasn’t a position that he particularly liked, and the feeling, he disliked even more.

“I could ask you the same thing,” he murmured, mismatched eyes narrowed on his opposition, trained on him wherever he might go.

“But,” he relented, a bloodied hand tightening its grip on the leg curled beneath him. Broken, of course -- else this could have gone much differently. “Given my position, I guess I’ll go first.

“I’m the Vagabond.

“Your turn.”

[goldcoloredglasses-blog]

Risky Business ⛁ Closed

[yikesdottumblerdotcom-blog]

goldcoloredglasses:

“I wish I could save the look on that cop’s face when you moaned,” Gavin says wistfully, following after Ryan at a gentle trot. “It was priceless.”

He glances up at his companion curiously. He hadn’t been too focused in the closet, due to other things being on his mind, but he had just kissed the Vagabond. Not that the kiss really mattered – they’d only just met, and Gavin has a rule about sleeping with… anyone. Ever. At all. The rule is obviously: Do Not. But kissing him meant he hadn’t been wearing the mask, and well. Wasn’t that mysterious?

He speeds up a little, trying to duck forward to get a better look – all he he is a profile, a slightly stubbly chin, a regal sort of nose, high cheekbones… the older man was avoiding his gaze quite intently. Gavin pouts.

“Don’t worry about running into anyone,” Gavin says lightly as they enter the elevator for the second time that day. He pulls out his phone and begins tapping away at it. He pulls a rectangular item from his pocket and attaches it to his phone and walks over to the electrical panel under the buttons and crouches by it. He reaches back and taps open a little compartment in the sole of his shoe and slips out a screwdriver and unscrews it. He plugs the strange device on his phone into it and the lights immediately surge, getting brighter, flickering out, then coming back on again. The elevator stutters a little, then continues on it’s journey.

He pauses, smiling at the ceiling. “Something tells me they’ll all be the slightest bit preoccupied.”

Then, the fire alarm goes off.

Now that was an impressive little trick.

It doesn’t change much about Ryan’s posture, save for the quick glance he throws to the ceiling when the alarm starts to blare. As inconvenient as it is to have to confront innocent bystanders looking like he does now, it’s even more inconvenient to have to deal with Gavin like this.

While Gavin messes with the electronics, the elevator or the security system, whatever it is he preoccupies himself with, Ryan spends most of the trip back to the ground floor thinking about his options.

The elevator slows to a stop.

“You know, if you ever leave the gang, I’ll just have to kill you, now,” Ryan says ponderously, with the tone of someone who’s joking, but the language of someone deadly serious.

The elevator doors open, and Ryan marches out first. Not many people have made it down before them, but the exit doors hang wide open, and Ryan heads straight toward them, keeping a steady, but easy pace.

“We’ll find a car in the parking structure outside,” he says over his shoulder. “Head towards the back.

“You want me to teach you how to hotwire?”

[gtadoolz]

🢒 Death Valley 🢐

[yikesdottumblerdotcom-blog]

gtadoolz:

@yikesdottumblerdotcom liked for a starter.

❝ That, uh.. that really doesn’t look safe, dude. ❞ 

Jeremy speaks up quietly, eyeing the city below them, before glancing back to his teammate. Why and how he got paired up with the Vagabond for setup, he couldn’t recall. Anyone that worked with him might have had trouble, but Jeremy was still relatively new to the crew (pushing two years? geez), and he still had some issues working with people he actually knew. “We’re, pretty high up.. couldn’t we do this somewhere less, I dunno, questionably fatal? Dunno about you, but. I’d rather spare myself that kinda death.”

The nervousness easily makes it into his voice. He hasn’t exactly made it a secret that he’s afraid of heights, but.. that said, he hadn’t spoken of it out loud. That’s probably how he wound up here.

Ryan glances up, just briefly.

“Where else do you suggest we do it?” he asks, his tone of voice making it clear this is a rhetorical question.

Dusting his hands off, he rises from a crouch, and brushes off his knees. A solid tap-tap with the toe of his boot confirms that the piton, driven now into the cold concrete of the rooftop, won’t be moving. He still plans to test this, naturally -- for safety.

Gathering up the loops and loops of cabling pooled by his feet, he leans down to attach one end to the fresh piton, and slings the rest over his shoulder. Once more, he looks at Jeremy.

It’s hard to tell, in the dark, with only the city lights below and one dim, flickering security floodlight behind them to illuminate, but the kid looks pale. Ryan hadn’t worked with him much, at least not just the two of them, but he was well recommended, and as far as Ryan had heard, he’d yet to let them down in any serious capacity. Finding him now with a shake in his voice and nervous eyes brought some cause for alarm.

“It’s safer to do it this way than try to break in at the ground level,” Ryan reasons, his own voice patient and calm. “Besides, we’re not going all in today, assuming everything goes well, anyway.”

Reaching up to slip a finger under the bottom edge of his mask, Ryan adjusts it while he turns, toward the corner of the roof where two parachutes sit, bundled up all nicely in their backpacks. He picks up both, and turns toward Jeremy, raising first one, then the other.

“Which one do you want? The rainbow one, or the Union Jack?” he asks. “This should go without saying but the British one is Gavin’s, so, fair warning. You know.”

[goldcoloredglasses-blog]

Risky Business ⛁ Closed

[yikesdottumblerdotcom-blog]

goldcoloredglasses:

For a moment, Gavin is mesmerized. There is a part of him that can’t believe the Vagabond is actually here, still, and taking off his mask like this is just a thing that he does on the regular. Like Gavin is someone who can be privy to this sort of thing.

Dan’s going to flip when he hears about this, Gavin thinks absently as Ryan struggles to scrub off as much of the paint as he can. He jolts a little when Ryan actually speaks, having been… justifiably distracted by the situation they’re in.

“What?” he squeaks, his voice a few octaves higher than it had been before. Lay it on him? Why did Gavin have to initiate? The hall was getting loud outside so they didn’t have time to discuss this, but damnit, way to put a man on the spot, Ryan. Gathering up the last vestiges of his courage, Gavin throws his arms around Ryan’s neck and brings their lips together.

Keep reading

Ryan feels almost winded.

He’s not sure what he really expected, but somehow it wasn’t that. A snog, yes, and hopefully a convincing one -- but now he’s come out the other side of it feeling dazed, shirt rumpled and hair a mess. He’s sure it paints a good picture for the policemen, because when Gavin pushes past him, he really does almost fall over.

Fortunately, he gets a moment to breathe. And Ryan Haywood is no amateur -- a moment is all he really needs.

Leaning against one of the shelves, fingers curled tight around the rim, Ryan presses his ear to the door to listen, his expression sobering as he mentally repeats his new fake name -- not that he thinks he’ll need it for long, but then, fake names aren’t something he usually needs. When no one knows your real identity, why not just use that one?

It’s sort of an alter-ego situation, he muses. Like Peter Parker, or Bruce Wayne.

It’s Gavin he’s more worried about, though. Unmasked from the start, Gavin’s in a more precarious position than Ryan is -- Gavin has to act, has to perform, and the consequences of a bad show are harsher here than most venues. He leaps into it with earnest, though, and for that, Ryan is impressed. It takes a particular kind of human to be able to do that kind of work; even a theatre degree didn’t gift Ryan with that specific talent.

Still, he can do a few things.

”Mmnh,” he moans midway through Gavin’s conversation, unable to help a bit of a mischievous grin. He lets the back of his head hit the wall with an audible thump. “Come on.”

That should hurry those men along.

It doesn’t take long before Ryan is confident enough to begin to gather his things, quietly as he can. He finds Gavin’s beanie, discarded on the floor, and pulls it snug over his own head, tugging it over his ears and low on his forehead. His jacket, and the things he was wearing beneath it, are more difficult; for that, he commandeers Gavin’s, now wet and paint-stained, hoodie, tying an impromptu bag.

By the time Gavin swings open the door, Ryan’s adopted the look he’s going to walk out with -- a hoodie and heavy jacket both swung over one shoulder, affecting a casual slant on his posture, while his head tilts just slightly down. Sharp, two-toned eyes peer out from under blond eyebrows and behind smeared facepaint.

“All right,” he says, looking up and down the hall before passing Gavin and calling the elevator, avoiding eye contact all the way. “Let’s hope we don’t run into anybody else in the elevator, or the lobby. I mean, I could carry you down the stairs while you do whatever, but my hands are a little full.”

Ryan shrugs his shoulder, and a lot of metal clinks gently together.