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You can find me here.

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rewrittentrcumcs:

[ oh no. o h n o. this… was too familiar. the circumstances were different, the situation was different, she was alone, but - paranoia gets the better of odelina, she HAS to run. from what ? from who ? she doesn’t KNOW, but the instinct kicked in before she even had time to think. heavy purse is dropped onto ground as ravenette breaks into a sprint. home - which way was home ? she doesn’t remember, adrenaline won’t allow her to focus on  where she’s going. scenery is a blur while panicked woman flees a danger she isn’t even aware was approaching, and disappears around a corner before leaning against the side of a building to catch her breath. … honestly, the  girl’s only ran a few blocks. someone could use some work on her stamina. ]

The lights from his car fill the road space and makes it rather obvious how empty this street truly is this late at night. A street light or two turn off on the opposite sidewalk as his car follows the path she runs down.

Once she breaks her formation and takes herself down a different path. There’s a considerate hum from the driver and the lights turn off again as he pulls closer to the building she turned behind. Parking a few spots away from the corner, he gets out of the car and puts the keys back into his pocket. 

A glance down the street back towards the bar and he spots the lonely bag that had been abandoned some stretch away. Focus returns to the possibility that the girl might still be near and he heads over to round the corner in order to look for her, small smile unconsciously settling on his face.

“I offered to walk you home, but no~. Instead, you run and give the illusion of a chase.” His voice smooth and taunting in nature. Mostly speaking to himself, Strade knows that even if she tries to run some more he will definitely be able to out-pursue her with his saved energy.

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rewrittentrcumcs:

( okay, now that she’s lost that creep it’s time to head home. ridiculously stuffed purse is slung over her shoulder, a jacket now girding her upper body to keep away the cold weather threatening to freeze her damn nipples off.  a glance at the phone in her hand lights up her face- it gives her the time. ) ❛  I should be headed home. I’ve got work in the morning… ❜ ( and if it wasn’t easy to tell, this girl had lied- she had no one to accompany her  as she steps out of the bar, shuddering as she begins her short walk home. the look on her face and the back and forth turns of her head give off her paranoid  vibes- she KNOWS someone might be out to get her, but the issue was she never knew when. the increasing dread looming over her held foreshadow that it might be TONIGHT. this in mind, quick stroll away from the bar turns into rather stumbly speedwalking- she’s too drunk to function properly and ends up  having to hold herself up on fences, lampposts, and pretty much anything else she can just to stay upright. )

This is a scene he is all too familiar with. A lonesome girl who just wants to look after herself and have a good time after a long day. Not too uncommon, but the wrong time and the wrong place is not always so transparent.

Amber eyes watch as her form briskly walks down the sidewalk, the unknown suspending anticipation in her steps. Strade himself makes his way into the parking lot while keeping her direction available in his peripheral vision, car keys pulled from a pocket and unlocking it with a quiet click.

The engine is smooth as it runs, a low frequency hum which barely gives away its position. Headlights remain off as he pulls out of the lot, the gentle crunching of gravel beneath tires the only signal of its leave.

If she turns down a street or continues forward, the car follows at a comfortable pace behind her. Perhaps only going about seven to ten miles per hour so he keeps far enough back that he will not pass her nor get close enough for her to see who is in the car.

At this point it is a game of freaking her out. The car will follow her as it can and he will wait until she blatantly (Will she yell? Will she run?) acknowledges his tactic to turn the headlights onto their brightest setting. Otherwise, if she tries to duck away and hide he may need to consider pulling over and making it a physical confrontation sooner than he anticipated.

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People are so soft... so willing to trust when they have little else. Endearing, really.

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fcinthecrt:

❛ Uh- yeah, they’re… waiting for me outside, actually ! I’d better catch up to them before they leave me, sorry- ❜ ( this was a lie- she’s been on her own for ages now. no one from college liked her enough to keep in touch, and  certainly not enough to invite her out for drinks. ) ❛  But really, I-I’m good on company home- thanks for the concern… ❜ ( there really isn’t much else for her to say at this point, and thus she backs away slowly… then skitters back to the booth she’d been sitting in prior and gathered her things to go. hopefully she wouldn’t have to see that creepy  face of his ever again. )

There’s a hint of panic in her voice that he picks up on. She’s uncomfortable here and it’s almost painfully obvious that she would rather have absolutely nothing to do with him. A shame; she’s rather attractive and quite his type. Perhaps that would lay more in the... unfortunate lane in her regard.

“Ah, see you around...” His hand only comes up half way in a wave, fingers half-curled as he watches her move along to gather her belongings.

A glance down to his shirt and he picks at it with two fingers, pulling it out to survey the damage. It wasn’t so bad, really. Nothing he couldn’t fix up once he got home. However, there’s no use in staying here at this point.

While she hurries out of the building, Strade takes a different exit and spies hardly another soul in the lot. A pack of cigarettes is pulled from his back pocket and he flips the top, pulling one out with his mouth and digging the lighter out of the pack itself to light it. 

Once replaced, he strolls around to the side of the building and casually looks to see if the woman had actually come with friends--but mostly he tries to see what method she preferred for getting home if that wasn’t the case.

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olxander:

“I-It’s fine. Thank you for coming out here then.” He smiled nervously, “Was Ren sick or something? I was worried about them.”

“Well, now...” A low hum, curious about how much Lawrence got to really know Ren or if Ren perhaps had other plans for the man. That would have been a pleasant surprise, but unfortunately Strade did not feel quite so certain of his motives and thus made him stay home.

“I’m sure he’ll be able to make it next time.” Avoidance of a reason, but he can make something up if the blond pushes for an answer.

“Want a drink? It’s the least I can do for the inconvenience.” Eyes watch him warily, looking for any sign that he might flake out and leave. Either way it may not end very well.

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does my anger unsettle you?

    does it make you uncomfortable?

         does it SCARE you?

                                        GOOD.

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!!

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person: that's mean

me: i'm mean

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!! If any of you people adore trigger-happy (ha, haha) muses or just want to spice up your life, please follow for a bumpy ride. Multi-fandom friendly, OC friendly. Triggering themes galore. Ask | About | Rules

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fcinthecrt

❛ I think I’ll manage… please let go. . . ❜ ( doe-eyed lady is near petrified when taut grip meets frail arm, head looking around for any sort of distraction. ` get away from me, don’t touch me, don’t look at me ’, is all that runs through her mind. why did everyone INSIST on choosing her to prey upon ? reality calls for her attention- she must have blanked out while avoiding such an uncalming stare. oh ! that’s right, he could use some napkins ! maybe she could slip away from this guy and leave from the emergency exit while he waited ? ) ❛  You should probably clean off- should I go get some paper towels or something for you ? That’ll stain if it sets… ❜

“Ah, my apologies.” He is quick to let her go, hands held up defensively as she seems to collect herself. Although his eyes continue to watch her--she is fidgety, and he wonders if it is only because she is drunk--Strade moves back a step to give her some space.

“It’ll be fine. I have a washer at home.” A shrug and he dismisses her concern. 

“Are you here with friends?” Head tips to the side as though looking past her, quirking his lips to one side and eyeing her with his brows raised. No one seemed to be with her.

Even if she feels that she can slip away from him, he thinks that he would still be able to catch up to her fairly easy if she were to walk home from the bar. A glance at the clock on the wall and he hums to himself. 

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olxander:

His eyes adverted away but he sat down, “I…I see… T-that’s a shame… He seems like a nice person, that sounded wrong… You seem nice as well.” He fumbles with his hands as he looks at Strade.

This man looks so out of his territory that it almost hurts to watch him. Strade is quite familiar with seeing females in this regard, but it seems to rare to see another male so reserved. None-the-less, he tries to keep up a conversation. He leans forward on the table and crosses his arms on it, casual and comfortable. 

“I thought it would be rude to leave you hanging and no one show up at all, so I decided to come and meet you instead. I hope that’s alright.”

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fcinthecrt:

( @digitizedmurder​) ʟɪᴋᴇᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴀ ꜱᴛᴀʀᴛᴇʀ ! ❛  … U-Uh, sorry…❜ ( these were words used much too often from typically fidgety young woman, but considering she’d just bumped into this rather… offputting individual and gotten some of her drink on him, she really did mean it. or, did she ? the stench of beer on her breath and almost lack of empathy in her words made it difficult to tell. didn’t her therapist tell her to stay away from the braying mule, and alcohol in general ? yes. had she listened ? no. )

!!

The man turns as soon as something wet stains his clothes, brows furrowed and a slight snarl settling into his features--ready to tear (verbally) into whoever had done it.

His expression is quick to fall, however, seeing the girl whose fault it had been.

Intoxicated. Vulnerable.

Instead, he picks at his shirt and pulls it away from his skin, tsk’ing to himself and commenting about how unfortunate the whole situation was. He looks at the girl again and reaches out to catch her arm before she can wander away.

“Hey now, buddy! You don’t look so hot.”

His grip was firm but not tough enough to bruise her. Amber eyes watch her body language and he wonders how long she’s been here without him knowing. 

“Need somebody to take you home?” The tone in his voice was laced with concern, but also chipper at the thought of a blatantly fine opportunity.

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olxander:

Lawrence eyes the place, hoping to see Ren. He was happy to go meet him, Vincent said it was a good idea after all… Right? He searched around the place and was about to give up when he noticed Strade, he nervously came over and spoke up, “Uh… are you… Ren?”

Oh. There is the man he was looking for.

“Lawrence, correct? I’m Strade.” His hand motions out to the side to imply that the blond should sit with him. Eyes looks him up and down, observing and taking mental notes. A little stiff, isn’t he? 

“I’m afraid Ren couldn’t make it. Don’t be shy, have a seat!” A bright smile greets him and he bounces one of his knees idly. He’ll try his best not to scare him off. Not too quickly, at least. 

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Inspiration ↴ BLOODY HANDS

I am in blood Stepp’d in so far, that, should I wade no more, Returning were as tedious as go o’er.

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