faildetective

[faildetective]

i can tell you're not fully here with me. — Kellam

Jack doesn't answer, just keeps stabbing at the surface of the bar with his toothpick until the end was dented and blunt. He finally looks over to Kellam, smiles big and broad and dumb. ❝ Hah! Just kidding. I heard you. I'm here, I'm here. ❞ he makes a show of setting the toothpick down and straightening, clearing his throat.

❝ Look, baby, this is about as here with you as I can get. I'm doing my best, I should get a gold star sticker at least. But I'm listening. Got my ears sooo open. Lay it on me. ❞

[faildetective]

sleeping is my all-time best coping mechanism. — Tefi

A day, a night-—whatever it had been, it had been a LONG one. They both rested there on the floor, Jack having been there first and joined later by Tefi. There were a lot of floor conversations with the duo. Sometimes because the case had just been that exhausting, but mainly because Jack was usually fucked up and liked to be horizontal more often than not. 

❝ -—RIGHT ?? World would be a waaay cooler place if people just like...slept more. ❞ he lazily lifted a hand off his chest and began lifting fingers as he counted. ❝ Angry? Just sleep. Sad? Sleep. It's the answer to pretty much everything. ❞

[faildetective]

headshot.

dialogue prompts from headshot: a novel by rita bullwinkel.

you have an insanely good eye for reading people.

most people don't seem to think i'm capable of anything.

control and restraint are far more valuable than wild punches.

nobody can ever possibly know what a body is good at unless they're inside it.

i drove ___ miles to get here.

i'm going to make ___ see me.

this is a life i could live.

i'm still bad at looking in the mirror.

you need someone else in your life to tell you you're a real person.

no one will ever remember you.

the point of training is to change the outcome of the future.

my mother doesn't really look at me.

how did i end up so alone?

perhaps the future will not be like the past.

people are most scared by what makes no sense to them, but that they can't avoid.

win or lose, time will roll forward, marked by arbitrary increments.

all i want is to be the best at everything.

doesn't winning always count as winning?

being the best at something is supposed to be the dream.

i know how to build my own worlds to live in.

surely if people say it, it must be true.

it's always better to destroy something, if you can't have it.

what could be better than being whispered about when not in attendance?

i'm a wildfire.

sleeping is my all-time best coping mechanism.

you snooze like some people drink liquor.

everything has a price.

everything i want, i have to give something for.

the only thing worse than being a good girl is being a good dog.

don't you want to follow me?

everybody likes a gracious loser.

i let you win.

you look like a booger.

things were so in-between for so long, it seems impossible to understand the way things really are.

if you're slow, you'll get knocked over.

so many things in life look like one thing, but claim to be another.

this body. what a weird place to live in.

i was told it was rude to ask questions.

it's easy to leave a place that has nothing to offer.

an actor need not experience a tragedy in order to act it.

you can get out of almost anything by looking in the opposite direction.

it always takes me two days to process anything that happens.

i can tell you're not fully here with me.

i want to seem as frightening as possible.

you make me relieved to be alive.

[faildetective]

( a collection of drunken confessions dialogue prompts. adjust phrasing as necessary.) feel free to make edits to better suit your muse, but please don’t edit or add on to the original post <3 if you like, please consider supporting me through tips

"You know, I always look for you in every crowd. Even when I pretend I don’t care, I do. So much."

"If I fall off this roof, it'll be your fault. Because you keep making my heart do stupid things."

"You know, I only came here tonight because I heard you’d be here. How ridiculous is that?"

"No, no, you don’t understand. I would actually choose you over fries. And I really love fries."

"I might regret this after the hangover, but right now, I need you to know that… being with you feels like home."

"This is probably just the drinks, but if I don’t say it now, I might never. You mean everything to me."

"You’re like… my favorite person to get in trouble with. I don’t want to do it with anyone else."

"I only come to these late-night study sessions because I know you’ll be here. Pathetic, right?"

"I know this isn’t the place, and I might not even remember this tomorrow, but… I like you. Like, a lot."

"The real reason I never bring anyone else to these things? Because they’re not you."

"I’ve had enough of watching you talk to everyone else. Maybe I want all your attention tonight."

"I might be a little tipsy, but I’m not too drunk to know that I want you… in a way I probably shouldn’t."

"I don’t want this night to end. I don’t want this moment to end, because I’m not ready to leave you yet."

[faildetective]

The fashion of MINX - Doug Renetti (part two)

Costume design by Beth Morgan Sanford

[faildetective]

[faildetective]

[ SAMPLE ] for sender to wipe at smeared blood on receiver that isn’t theirs then proceed to lick it off their finger.

Splattered with another dude's blood? Not even on Jack's top ten list of Fucked up and a Little Erotic events. Hardly enjoyable though, would not recommend. He's marked down as scared and...well, mostly just scared. Bodies and corpses and blood and guts weren't his favorite sight and he was hardly USED to it all but...hey, man. That was just the world he lived in. Humans fucked each other up good and so did everything else with claws and teeth and christ knew what else.

He feels the stuff drying on his face, knows he needs to find a hanky or something before it starts getting all dried and crusty and itchy. A nice shower sounded nice, the type where you sat on the floor of it and just zoned out-—maybe cried a little, you know?

Then the dude is reaching out and Jack is flinching back like some wild animal and there's a swipe of the blood. And Jack is thinking, 'Oh! What a nice and helpful gesture' and then the dude is licking it off his finger and Jack is deflating, exhaling with a sort of defeated breath at the realization this guy was also a freak. Because Jack Falk did not stumble into the lives of normal individuals, unfortunately. Maybe it was a fae thing but...the universe really liked to keep things quirky and chaotic with him.

❝ You uh-—you're full, right? 'Cuz y'know I've been told I taste rancid. Lemme tell you, man. Just horrid. ❞

[faildetective]

The fact Jack hadn't gotten a direct and deliberate 'fuck off' from this guy was a good sign. Or a very bad sign. Sometimes it was hard to tell until he was in the thick of it and in too deep to wriggle his way out with anything close to grace. Was he embarrassed by his outburst of oversharing? His displays of eccentric babbling? Hardly. If Jack Falk knew shame, it was typically shoved down deep and suffocating beneath the haze of dope, alcohol, and whatever else he could get his hands on. 

The half-fae had ignored that tell-tale spine chill that wracked through him signaling that this guy was something else, something not human. He ignored it because, okay-—fine. Jack ignored obvious potential red flags because who wouldn't when someone who looked like that was talking to them? If this guy was a spider with a web, consider Jack the idiot fly who got himself stuck.

He fumbles for the carton, too jittery with anxious energy to look anything but foolish and clumsy. Get it together, Jack. Christ.

Eventually, he pushes a stick up and extended it and the carton towards Peter, clears his throat as if that will clear away the atrocious and horridly awkward vibes that followed him like a raincloud.

❝ Dude, I don't make grocery lists. I just...go. Y'know? Lists and schedules and shit really...hinder living freely. That's me. Free bird. ❞

There's something to be said about being forgotten. Some people wear it like a badge of honor, others like a shroud. Peter thinks it's far more visceral. It's the stoop of the shoulders. Burdened by the weight of anonymity. Afterall? Human beings are meant to be social creatures, fearful as they might be. "Oh? Thousand pardons." He turns on his bar stool and graces the stranger with his full attention.

Dark eyes, playful and fathomless peer into blue. Note the faint lines mapping otherwise sharp features. The werewolf grins, canines a little too sharp and pearled. "I had an Uncle like that, Torvald. Turns out he was dyslexic and blind in one eye." He'd ended up a scholar to the delight of his mother.

Peter reads between the lines easily enough. It smells like stress, stale cigarettes, and shitty liquor with a hint o' cologne. "You look a little like you're zoning out halfway through your grocery list." Checked out on aisle five. 

He bites back a huff of amusement at the unintentional spectacle and motions to the cigarette. "You got one I can bum?" 

@faildetective / continued.

[faildetective]

How'd you get down here? I told you to go to the roof.

THE NICE GUYS, 2016

[faildetective]

CONT. X / @echolaliia

  ❝ Are you done? I can get like...they make books, probably. I mean, if you're lookin' to see how many more fucking corny-ass references you can shoehorn into one sentence. ❞ exasperated was about as close as Jack got to being pissed; he never seemed blood-boiling angry ever, just pulled taut and frustrated to the point he'd gesture with his hands more than usual and his voice would sound pinched and there'd be just a bit more coherency to him than usual.

He came down from his tantrum instantly at the mention of his accessories, one hand coming to cup his necklace and the other his belt buckle protectively. ❝ -—These are vintage. And it is not a Gigolo necklace, alright? I've gotten a lot of compliments on this piece. ❞ from mostly very older women, admittedly.

❝ What are you gonna do? Can't you just...❞ he frees one hand to curl a middle and index finger to pantomime fangs while he gives a slight hiss for theatrical emphasis. ❝ You know? Vampire stuff? ❞

[faildetective]

“   Do not put me in a situation. I’m at my limit and I am very tired. ” — Lauden

Jack looks at Lauden-—oddly hard and focused considering how typically unfocused his gaze was. He nods once, resolute. ❝ Sooo true, man. So true, you're right. I was at my limit when I woke up today. Hey! Why don't we just like...go fuckin' nap, huh? ❞ a thumb tossed carelessly over his shoulder at nowhere in particular.

If Lauden was looking for someone to pull them up both by their bootstraps and push through it, Jack was not the man for the job.

[faildetective]

okay okay im writing for reAL. gonna clean up my ooc. linked my sideblog in my pin cuz fuck it. i thiiiiink i just have asks to chip away at so yeehaw

kjdfgdfg lmAO mfing 100!!!!!! drafts already i gotta stOP. im actually a hoarder. i'm putting this image in the window so if i try and stray from drafts..........

[faildetective]

The Nice Guys (2016)

[faildetective]

[faildetective]

cont. x / @bloodebayou

❝ Calm myself ?? Listen, you'd be going bonzo bananas too if you lost something you held near and dear. ❞ again, a PIECE of a vending machine costume necklace he had gotten just hours before. 

It was genuinely hard to tell if this was some bit or if he just fully and wholly had become that invested in a piece of trash so quickly. Whatever the case, he was committed to it (for as long as his attention span would allow, at least). 

❝ Listen, we're not all-—what's the Monopoly guy's name? With the hat? Mustache? ❞ he points to his own facial hair, looks like he actually expects Lourdes to help him out with filling in the information he was blanking on in order to insult him.

Impatient, he just shakes his head and his hand in a 'nevermind' gesture. ❝ Whatever. That's you, dude. You're the guy with the hat with too much money-—and a thimble for some reason. No love for the poor impoverished guy who can't just buy a priceless pearl whenever. As in me. I'm the impoverished guy. ❞

[faildetective]

“   I could be so much worse. For example, I could start acting like my father. ” — Kellam

For once, he's got a toothpick between his lips. Jack seemed to favor those when he was stuck in a building for a prolongued amount of time. He always chewed them to fucking splinters, too.

❝ Man, don't fuckin' drop me old man comparison threats in the middle of a conversation. This is the first time you've brought him up. I don't know jack about that fella and now you've got me wondering... ❞

[faildetective]

“ normalize letting me talk without making any sense. ”

He flicks a loose-wristed point at the man, both brows raised in amusement. His grin is stupid as he waggles the digit a bit.

❝ Baby, nothin' much of anything anyone says right now makes sense to me so I think you're golden. ❞ he transitions the point into a shooing gesture as if to bid the vampire to continue.

❝ Go on, keep yakkin'. I like it. Reminds me of watching a program. ❞ translation: he could be high off his rocker and listen to what was more or less baby sensory videos for him.