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know that what i do isn’t right i can’t stop what i love to do so 𝐢 𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 watching them fall on by one THEY FIGHT.
indie oc rp blog. nsfw & highly selective.
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The rain is full of ghosts tonight.
Edna St. Vincent Millay (via qvotable)
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brutlist·.
𝐡𝐞𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐜𝐡𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐬 . “ people say a lot of things . she’s four going on twenty five , pal , i’ll let you arrange your own funeral , then . “
jacob almost allowed the corners of his lips to form a smile. almost. ‘ i’m already dressed up for a funeral. ‘ his chin itches.
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Russian Symphony (Konstantin Lopushansky, 1994)
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The countryside of Oxford, United Kingdom. Jacob is not sure what causes the widening of his nostrils. The scent of this place or the rats that sometimes wear his clients’ names. Slender-fingered hands tucked deep inside his black jacket’s pockets. His black vehicle alarmed about being locked and closed. Funny thing, though, he wonders - you can steal my car at every minute and yet it has never been stolen. The driver has his only weakness safe and secure. He is, truly, fucking, thankful.
A delicate knock on the wooden door. He knows this place too good. His nose is still bothered. “It’s the driver.” Husky tone o his voice echoed against a metal frame.
startercall. ; @rudrajah
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Recently, Jacob has found himself a new fountain of fun and amusement. Apart from switching between Beethoven, Bach and Mozart the night driver’s finger scrolls tinder profiles looking at his drug clients. There is always a way to chase those who sometimes forget to pay their debts ... Sometimes. Jacob hates mixing romance and dirty work, however, sometimes he gets lost among the pages of the silver lining playbook.
“do you have a sudden urge to purge ur not-as-rich-life onto a boston broad with a cute face & nice ass?? want to risk a flattering 79% chance of possibly being stood up ... A true poet, a true poet indeed ...” As the woman took the passengers seat in Jacob’s freshly polished vehicle, he clapped a few times in the rhythm of irony. The great Wolfgang Amadeus might have thought it was for him. “Where to, ma’am ?”
startercall. ; @1132517
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jokethur.
Patina after lewd patina clogs Joker’s throat. He wasn’t born last week, the human body radiates off of Light’s coat like a Glade plugin. He masks a retching noise by coughing. Joker’s own cologne is strong, albeit warm and clean. The blood mandarin notes hit first with rose and cinnamon undertones — to name a few. Three stabs with a swizzle stick shred the pulpy cherry in Joker’s glass so tiny red strips creep between the ice cubes. He steels, cringes when the music bangs even harder, and dispels anxiety by bouncing his feet on the gold foot rail.
“Look, you’re not driving,” he can’t help falling into a quasi-decent British accent, “Her Majesty, the Queen,” lots of time mimicking Gary led to that moment, now it returns to his natural honeyed rasp, “I’m not made of money…but at this point if you sing to anyone I’ll blow your fuckin’ brains out.” He kicks the ice around his glass again, then reiterates, “I’ll pay you. More than fairly. I’m not asking you to sneak me into the god damn Pentagon, I just need to be unseen — and may I stress unseen for the time being. You’ll be driving two, though for now I can’t say who or where. There’s low to no risk for you with this particular errand.”
All he wants to do now is to simply throw his coat away and burn it. Jacob has keen senses to have every piece of his wardrobe fresh and ironed. His perfumes are gone and lost among the sweat of dancing sculptures. 50 hours without sleep. His black watch went on with so familiar buzzing - he needs to take his medicine soon. The scent of cigarettes’ smoke triggers his nostrils.
Ocean stare follows the dull colour of the cherry in Joker’s drink. Everything is dull here. Blinding lights. Blinding lights pound inside his head. He needs to leave soon. 50 hours and one minute without sleep. ‘’J. you do realize that I’m a driver, right ? I’m done with other orders ... “ Except for selling cocaine, but that is his own and private thing. His blonde, almost invisible, brow arched at Joker’s threat. He will not bend over the bargain of an even better blow of brains. He respects his clients. Always. They are also dangerous. He doesn’t need another problem on his head. “I know you will, Joker. The only thing you cannot hide behind your mask is your honesty. At least sometimes ...” He slides a thin banknote towards a bartender. “I need you to specify the time frame.” Slender fingers grabbed a glass of water with a slice of lemon. One ice cube.
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jokethur.
This isn’t his scene, but here he’s anonymous. Sionis will leave him be if he knows what’s good for him. Nursing a glass of ginger ale with a maraschino cherry plopped in so it looks like a cocktail, Joker smirks into it, squaring his shoulders so he appears larger than the entire counter — if such a feat can be accomplished.
“I was starting to think you wouldn’t show up,” he says, masking a grin that deep red lights try to eat. They swing and strobe and cast his makeup in a borderline fiendish glow. “They say you’re the best,” pale green eyes hook Lights in a sidelong glance; “I don’t need you to hide a body or anything,” that catches in his throat — he throws a hand out to clarify, “yet…never speak too soon, but I uh,” he clears his throat, “–do need to be invisible…both in and out. Normally I wouldn’t contact anyone for this kinda thing, but…” he shouldn’t admit such a thing so soon, so he pauses. “I won’t go any further unless you’re interested.”
jacob has never drawn the joker in his clear imagination as a persona surrounded by such circumstances. those people have no bloody idea who they are partying with. if something goes wrong they might not come back home anymore. ‘ i am like a good dog. if you throw me a stick i will always come back for more ... ‘ sour joke plastered jacob’s teeth like a week-old scum. he fixed his black tie.
i don’t need you to hide a body ... a soundless hum escaped from his thin-lined lips. almost funny taking under consideration fact that the driver still cannot wash off the dirt from behind his nails after one particular case ... forget about it ! ‘ it all depends on the money, s i r ... ‘ elbow rests against a sticky counter. his coat smells both like an explosion of sperm and spilt vodka.
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‘ i usually do not take calls this late from strangers and people that have not been my clients before. ‘ the black vehicle passes green lights soundlessly. ocean stare fully focused on the road. it’s dark outside. almost too dark to pretend that the streets are safe. jacob’s nostrils widened. this hour belongs to hunters. that is right. ‘ first time in london ? ‘ finally he decided to exchange a polite stare with his client.
startercall. ; @toendwar
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wishbonelimbs.
blinking rapidly , riley’s head cants to the side . ❛ you care about me ? ❜ lips curl , eyes softening .
the girl is a problem. a moment of wonder. a hum in the bliss of silence. ‘ why wouldn’t i ? ‘ car passes green light soundlessly. ‘ i am here to listen. tell me what is bothering you. i won’t tell anyone. ‘ ocean stare slid across her appearance. ‘ scout’s promise. ‘
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oubliela.
𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐀𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐒𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐀 𝐏���𝐀𝐘 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒 𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐒 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐘, it has never been a priority to her. But his words make her wonder if she ever had, before he memory loss. She finds herself sitting up a little straighter, giving him her attention, and offers an amused smile. “They’re lacking flare then?” she asks with a raise of her brow. “Nice to meet you Jacob.” She leans forward and extends a tattooed and bruised knuckle hand, “Perion.”
her eyes are hard to miss. there is something which is hard to be described. jacob is truly intrigued. truly. ‘ likewise, perion. ‘ the woman’s name draw a thin wrinkle between his eyebrows. has he maybe seen her before ? no. can’t be. he would have remembered. ‘ i do apologize for interrupting your moment of peace, however, if you are heading to london, i would not forgive myself if i hadn’t invited you for a cup of coffee ‘ black-bordered glasses slid a bit downward, hanging from his nose. ‘ we will not talk about the modern theatre, i promise. ‘ he fixed the glasses and went back to his lecture with a delicate smirk.
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Daniel Craig looking cozy af as Mikael Blomkvist in The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo
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‘ i need to hear that story again, and i am serious ... ‘ a thin-lined smile crossed his wrinkled face. freshly-shaved chin shivered. ‘ you did it all by yourself ? ‘ elbow rests against a chair beside him. he wiped the corner of his lips with the tips of fingers. ‘ impressive. ‘
startercall. ; @denieddeath
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