rahi-kumar

[rahi-kumar]

crimsxns‌:

“Sweetheart, I’m sure my balls are bigger than yours. Wanna find out?” she grinned.  

She felt the pain run through her as he ran them both into a wall. This was the fight she was looking for. It was amazing how easy it was to get a man to assault a woman when size was brought into the conversation. Even breathless and in pain she managed to smile. “Call me a bitch again.” she choked out. Wyn stared at him, the edges of her vision starting to blur slightly. Without even bothering to answer she reached out pinching his arm right above his armpit, causing the man to let go. Wyn wasn’t about to let this fool of a man assault her and get away with it. Pulling him close she whispered “Didn’t know your ego was so fragile.” right before her knee connected with his junk. She pushed him away, trying to get some distance as she regained her composure. 

There isn’t much room for Rahi to react — it’s just the sudden pain that pierces through his skin (nails just another reason why he doesn’t do girls) and then the one that follows. He recoils immediately, groaning at the unmanageable and unimaginable jolt of agony that runs right up his body, and when he blinks, he swears he sees red. 

“You— fucking— asshole.” Rahi leans agains the bar, one arm thrown over the counter as he’s crouched over in pain, fighting the after-shock away. “Fucking psycho. You should run,” he looks up just to catch her eye. “ ‘Cause if I catch you, I’m not lettin’ go again.” 

[rahi-kumar]

crimsxns‌:

“I don’t care!” she shouted. For a moment it felt like she had reverted back to the girl she was back in New York. The runaway brat looking for a way to get daddy’s attention. The addict who thought she could go through life unscathed. The murderer who took satisfaction out of taking a man’s life. This wasn’t her. It’s not who she is anymore. As much as she wanted to believe that, her actions said something differently. “I’m sure it’s too small for me to see, sweetheart.”

Everything else didn’t matter. He said you’re a girl. She was fuming. Wyn has killed men larger than her. He didn’t need to know that. “Bitch, I am a woman. I’ve fought men bigger than your scrawny ass.” Without thinking, she slapped him. “Don’t ever call me a girl again. You don’t know a damn think about me.” She felt so angry but confused at the same time. This was her but also not her. Why was she sweaty? “What’s happening to me?” She took a few steps back, wiping at the sweat that still covered her forehead.

Oh, goodie. So she has a problem with the word woman, too. “What, you got somethin’ else down there?” He snaps back. “Let me know, I might be into it.” 

“Scrawny? I—” Smack! Rahi almost loses balance as she slaps him — hard — across the face. His left cheek is aflame, and he’s breathless, meeting Wyn’s eye for a moment only — before he tackles her. They both come crashing against a nearby wall, his fingers tight around her throat. “Keep your hands off of me. Bigger ‘han me? Well, I’m still bigger than you. You’re threading on thin ice, bitch.” They’re close, dangerously so — almost nose-to-nose as anger takes over him, every nerve jolting awake with an energy that’s not his. He’s panting, and he wants nothing but to squeeze, but something pulls him back. Keeps pulling, one side fighting the other, like two different areas of his brain are fighting over control of his muscles. Then she asks — What’s happening to me? — and he’s at a loss for words, except he wants to know the same. “...I don’t know.” Rahi says, but doesn’t let go. He’s still angry, painfully so. “Look at me.” He doesn’t know why he said that. He doesn’t know anything. Not anymore. As Rahi stares down at Wyn, checking if she meets his request, his vision blurs, her face melting away into duplicates, several versions of herself unfolding around her head like a halo. A chill runs over his body, but his temperature still checks for burning hot. “...D’you feel alright?” Rahi can’t relax his grip on Wyn. He can’t let go of her. Can’t. Can’t. Cant. “I don’t.” 

[rahi-kumar]

crimsxns‌:

“My top is ruined. You definitely owe me an apology, man.” she wasn’t thinking. Everything from the day felt like it had built up to this moment. The more he spoke the more agitated she felt. He deserved whatever came to him. Wyn didn’t want to hurt him. He was so hot. Something inside her didn’t care about how he looked. He was annoying and he needed to know it. Wyn clenched her fists, fingernails digging into her palm.

Wyn wanted to drown herself in water. “Are you calling me ugly now? You’re five seconds from getting punched in the dick.” She smirked as she got closer to the man. “You’re on the right track tonight aren’t you. Looking like a little bitch as you try not to cry. What’s wrong man. Can’t handle your liquor?” As shitty as Wyn felt she knew she was ready for this. This is what she was made for. 

“C’mon, it’s water —” he protest, half-laughter, half-anger, “it’s what you wash clothes with, didja know that? It’s not fucking ruined.” But Wyn wont stop pressing, so he goes, “Sorry! Sorry!” He holds up both hands up in mock surrender. “Are you happy, princess? Get off my fucking dick, Jesus.” 

He takes a few steps backwards, his back hitting against the bar counter, which he decides to hold onto, his only feasible support. Ugly?, he wonders then, with a little delay. Where did that even come from? “What? No.” Should he tell her what he really thinks? No— he should leave. Just leave. He hadn’t drank that much, after all — maybe this is it, that last bit of sobriety hanging on by a thread. That last bit of sobriety also suggests, in the faintest of voices, that it might not just be the alcohol after all. He doesn’t feel any tears coming, but Wyn’s words do well to make him question himself. Every little action and feeling put under a microscope. “I need t’ go outside.” From afar, he spots the exist to the rooftop — clean air waiting, just ten feet away. “Just back off, alright? You’re a girl, ‘M not gonna fight ya.”  

[rahi-kumar]

crimsxns‌:

she wasn’t the one to mess with. not right now. something was off and she couldn’t put her finger on it. the air outside was cool but not as cold as she was feeling right now. wyn placed a hang on her forehead, checking for a fever. her hand came back red, slick with sweat. there was no fever. maybe she was having a reaction to something. the man in front of her was an annoyance. he may have been hot as hell but he was annoying. she groaned. “an asshole. are you deaf? you owe me an apology.” 

wyn needed to be brave right now. it was hard considering how she was feeling mentally. she had her knife on her just in case anything happened. 

“I was just—” Rahi motions around them, as though that would be enough of an answer. I was just trying to get out, you cunt. Something’s really fucking wrong, he thinks again. He’d never said that word — not even in the privacy of his thoughts — before. “Fuck you, man. I don’t owe you shit.” 

He steps back, his breathing a little heavier than before. He’s fixated on Wyn, confusion and intrigue all wrapped up in one. “...You don’t look fine,” he says then, his voice weak. He can still hear his heart. His head still feels heavy over his shoulders. He still feels sick. There’s a feeling at the back of his throat he can’t find a name for, but it tastes rotten. As he stares up at her, there’s a part of him that’s concerned — but another overrules it, wondering the patterns her blood might make if he smashes her skull against the wall. This isn’t me. It isn’t. Fucking hell— His owns thoughts disgust him. Rahi buries his face in his hands, like he’s fighting something. “I’m— Just go. Just fucking go. Just leave me alone, please.” 

[rahi-kumar]

crimsxns‌:

location: offshore rooftop/bar

open starter: (anyone that is on there)

it would have been so simple if she stayed home. wyn was just so frustrated with everything that happened tonight. amara not being able to stay away from teddy for all of five minutes. not getting laid tonight. the disgusting ass green shit they called food. the alcohol and weed made it tolerable but still. the night felt like it would never end. she was sweating as if she had taken a run in the middle of winter. the last place she thought she’d end up at was the rooftop bar. memories swam through her head of a night that she wished she didn’t remember. a man a few years older than her, his lifeless eyes stared up at her from the pavement below as blood pooling around his head. wyn ordered a glass of water. as the drink neared her lips someone bumped into her, water splashing all over her shirt. “what the fuck. how about you say excuse me instead of being a fucking asshole.”

Something’s wrong. It’s as much eloquence as Rahi’s thoughts can provide now. Something’s really wrong. His heart is pounding, and he can swear he can actually hear it beat. He locks himself in the bathroom, splashing cold water on his face to see its effects, expecting recovery, but nothing changes. All he knows is that the reflection he sees on the mirror doesn’t quite look like himself. 

He must have obsessed over it for long, because when Rahi comes back out again, another song is playing and everything just seems... off. The lights, his space perception, the look on people’s faces — when he can focus on them, anyway. He starts to back away, determined to leave— but Wyn has to just be standing there, doesn’t she? Taking up space, blocking his only escape. He’s about to apologize — out of instinct more than anything else — but then his ear picks up on it. “What’d you just call me?” 

[rahi-kumar]

day-dreamcrs‌:

INCORRECT QUOTES | @rahikumar

Rahi: Can you at least try and see this from my perspective, Bas?

Bas: *crouches down*

Rahi: …

Rahi: I hope you die

[rahi-kumar]

day-dreamcrs‌:

status: open ( navy pier ) | @crimsonstarters​

Honk.

“Hello.” 

A standard greeting from goose to man it seemed. Bas stood near the dock’s edge with a small bag already opened. Cracked corn soon littered the ground before him, and the Canada goose hurried to peck at each kernel. Both of them would’ve stayed as such if someone hadn’t gotten too close. Rather, close enough for the waterfowl to stop and bob her head up and down. 

Still unfazed, Bas merely looked towards the other with the pouch tilted their way. “Better to feed her.” Than to run and have a pissed off goose on their tail for feet on end, that was.

“Her?” Rahi echoes, a little reluctant as he dips his hand into the pouch, producing a handful of corn. As instructed, he tosses it the bird’s way. “You guys are friends or something?” 

He watches as it — sorry, she — goes for it, breaking the kernels in her beak. Rahi’s a bit at a loss, feeling himself in some sort of alternate reality where life really is as simple as hanging out by a lake, feeding the birds, watching the sun set. It feels like the so-called calm before the storm.

Bas and he aren’t close, but during their joint participation in the Faust clan Rahi has at least picked up on the other’s curtness. The right thing to do here was probably to back away slowly, let him be, or just let the silence linger. But hell if Rahi can stay quiet that long. 

“Let me put on my tin-foil hat for a sec here,” he says then, already a little restless, “but I’m sure they’ve put something in the water. I just saw Oliver picking up flowers in a field, very Van Gogh-chic, now you’re feeding ducks.” Ducks? Geese? Swans? Fuck if he knows. “What’s next? Teddy’s gonna play guitar and sing us Wonderwall? This is like a Hallmark version of us,” — Us, the Fausts— “and I feel fucking weird about it. Can’t be good.” 

[rahi-kumar]

crimsonfaux‌:

Oliver wandered around the comfort of the CRYSTAL GARDEN admiring the botanical garden. Others found themselves distracted by the dining area and crystal chandeliers . The picturesque moment for romance when it came to normal people, but he stumbled towards a certain spot of lush foliage. Light tone of purple honed him in with rocking Guinness in hand towards the shrubbery decoration. A closer look and even with his beer goggles he could tell the plant was Baptisia. After spending a little past a decade with Isabel he knew a few things about plants. “I bet Issy doesn’t have this one.” He murmured and  glanced around fleetingly to those around him. As far as he could tell they were all distracted, so he bent forward to pluck a few from the display. Whilst he tried to transfer the plant to pocket he accidentally knocked the rest of his beer into the soil.

 “CHE CAVOLO!”   He cursed the cup and smashed it between his fingers when he turned into the line of the other. A nervous drunken giggle left his lips as he neared them. Before the hearty grin fell with a serious expression, “What did you see?”

Oliver’s breeziness is overwhelming. Him, surrounded by flowers, excited to find a kind Isabel doesn’t have. It’s the sort of Nicholas Sparks type romance Rahi had never really understood, or craved — whatever appeal it has, completely lost on him. Nourishing his own beer, he watches Oliver with a puzzled expression, which grows into even further confusion as he spills beer all over. 

“I saw a big love-struck nerd stealing flowers from the garden,” Rahi says with a shrug. “If anyone asks,” — he points somewhere to their right — “I’ll say he went that way.”

[rahi-kumar]

drewwhittmore‌:

@crimsonstarters​ Open: to everyone Location: The Den

andrew had just stepped out of the ring, he could feel the bruises forming on his cheeks already. blood was running from his above his eyebrow down the side of his face, the ass that he was fighting snuck a pair of brass knuckles in the middle and now he was paying for it. he made his way over to the bar and took a seat, “a shot of vodka…actually, make it a double.” he said to the bartender before letting himself scan the room. he brought the glass to his lips and watched as a figure approached him. “enjoy the show?”

The last fight is over, and Rahi is lost in his drink — making up mindless patterns on the side of his glass with his thumb. He does a double-take when the seat next to him gets taken then, by none other than the protagonist of the brawl he’d been watching. Off Andrew, Rahi shrugs in a What the hell type fashion, informing the bartender: “Hell, make it two.” 

“...I did, yeah.” He smiles a little, trying not to stare too deeply into the flowering bruises. He likes the story they tell, the stark contrast to the pale skin. “You probably weren’t paying attention, but I was cheering hard when you were beating his face in. Too bad— I do a mean fangirl impression.” 

[rahi-kumar]

weddingjitters‌:

TEDDY SUPPOSES he can’t be blamed for his lack of faith in these two—linnette’s been out of the game for a hot minute, hands nearly scrubbed clean of the crimson teddy washes himself in daily, and rahi; well, he’s the smartest idiot he knows. they’re a mismatched group, to put it in layman’s terms, and there’s some part of teddy deep down that still has salvageable soul just praying they’re not in over their heads. a few careful strides down the sidewalk, and he’s shrugging a glance around the coarse brick of some irish pub, pitch black and dead as a goddamn cemetery courtesy of their little distraction a few streets over. the police station is looking pretty corpse-like, too; maybe this idea isn’t as recklessly stupid as he thought. or it isn’t until he turns to rahi just to find bernie sanders’ geriatric ass staring back at him.

HE’S DEALING OUT the don’t blow yourself up spiel, and for once, teddy shuts his fucking mouth and listens, fingers finding their purchase around his own respective bag and heaving it over his shoulder. “ not to give you the recognition you deserve, mister not-president, but … good job. these’ll work just fine—you can do the honors. this is your baby. ” he flicks his gaze toward teen wolf—linnette—and cracks a grin somewhere beneath the confines of his mask. “ you need help carrying that, little girl ? we wouldn’t want you to break a nail for OUR sake. ” with a gesture that reads nothing less than ‘hurry the fuck up,’ teddy begins the trek, his cadence dropping an octave or so lower the nearer they draw.  there’s a pig meandering at the stairwell, puffing down a cigarette idly; he’s going to be a fucking problem. “ linn, ” teddy sharply barks, shucking the pistol from beneath the label of his suit jacket. he shoves the gun toward her, follows it up with the unattached silencer. “ take care of him. and keep it quiet. ” @weddingjitters​ @rahikumar​

There’s a temptation to piss Teddy off even further the more he runs his mouth but she restrains herself, barely. This is his territory even if she’s a pawn in the game. And she doesn’t want to fuck up and waste time just because Teddy is being Teddy. Her gaze is drawn to the smoker by the stairway. He’s about as average as can be and she can already recognize the overrated confidence that comes from his stance. Not as thrilling as her old targets but beggars can’t be choosers.

Although her usual method of seduction is tempting, the cameras just barely catch the area- but it still does and she won’t risk it. “Watch the fucking bag.” she barks to the two; whoever one can manage the simple task. 

The gun feels like heaven in her hands when she takes it from Teddy. There’s a rush that she vaguely remembers from her old jobs. Linnette waits, a timer counting down in her mind before she moves towards her target and before he can even turn around to take a look at her, her hand is holding tightly against his shoulder before she shoves him out of public view. The safety is off and there’s the first shot to his heart and another to his eye just for kicks. She holds the body by his uniform just as a precaution from any loud sounds that his huge body is bound to make once it thumps to the floor. 

With a crook of her head, she gestures for the others to come over.

“Don’t suppose there’s a clean up crew?” her tone is light but a part of her is serious considering she just left people to discover her kills.

@rahikumar​ @wtcddy​

This is your baby. Were it not for the mask, Teddy would have seen Rahi smiling wide and bright at that. “Thanks, man.” 

They wait for Linnette to be done with it (funny how one can be so comfortable with explosives of mass destruction, but so uncomfortable with one-on-one cruelty. This time, the mask comes as a blessing and not a curse — the last thing he wants is to be branded a pussy by Teddy, who would undoubtedly read far too much into the way he diverts his eyes from the scene.

“…Was that two shots?” He mutters, to himself most of all. “We didn’t need two shots.” 

But perhaps this is Rahi yet again putting way too much faith in career psychopaths, who don’t have a cause to underline their actions, just plain old boredom. 

When Linnette comes back, he shoves her bag back her way. “We’re the clean-up crew,” he says, implying that the fire will work as well as bleach. He secures the detonator in a place it wont be disturbed until it should — and moves on to the cars. “I’ll take that row, yeah?”  

[rahi-kumar]

open to fausts and affiliates only

eva: that's definitely a plus, no injuries on our side yet?

eva: babysitting. literally. someone had to take care of matty so we're at the house.

eva: the med suite is prepped just in case though.

rahi: not that i heard of

rahi: oh damn. hope u guys are having fun

rahi: good to know - i'll txt if anything happens

[rahi-kumar]

open to fausts and affiliates only

eva: just checking in, everything still looking good?

eva: trying not to be overly annoying

eva: but also making sure everyone is still alive.

rahi: uhhhh everything good on my end

rahi: everything in place, everyone still breathing

rahi: whatre you supposed to be doing again?

[rahi-kumar]

weddingjitters‌:

wtcddy‌:

THE SUIT is overkill, he’ll admit, but every heist movie he’s ever binged during a sleepless night had one cardinal rule—you have to wear a suit when you’re burning the goddamn city down. anyone who knows him could spot him from a mile away in this getup; it’s the same black piece he always wears when oliver’s forcing him out of the comfort of his hoodie collection, buttoned all the way up to his throat, but it’s enough out of his realm that the cctv won’t give him away immediately. well, it’s the suit, the gloves shielding his fingertips from leaving any traceable evidence, and the giant fucking teddy bear mask he has pulled over his cold-flushed cheeks. and yes, it’s a little on the nose, but eli will know what it means when he plays back the tapes, and that’s the kind of recognition teddy’s looking for. 

HE PARKS THE VAN a few blocks away and around the corner, far enough out of view that they can’t be immediately flagged down on the freeway by those dreaded whoop whoops, but close enough that they’ll most likely make it without a bullet tearing through their throats one step off the sidewalk. it’s more than taxing shuffling his body to face his cohorts settled in the backseat than he’d like to admit, but fuck it; he looks cool. “ t-minus five minutes, ” he begins, muffled and panting against the fabric—thank god for the shot of mouthwash he threw back before leaving the house, because all of his breath is wafting right back into his face as soon as it leaves his lips, “ there are still some pigs sniffing around, so we’ll have to make this quiet at first. they should be mostly distracted by the music fest, but if you’re caught, you either shoot yourself or take the prison time. i don’t really care which. ” he blindly kicks open the door, shutters at the first gust of tundra wind that cuts straight through his jacket. “ you guys fuck this up, and you’ll wish the vasiles got to you before me. look me in my friendly, plush eyes—i mean it. ” @weddingjitters​ @rahikumar​

Being in the van had filled her with butterflies but not one of nervousness but of pure excitement. There had been a thrill to her previous life that she forgot about and now that she was back in the action, the confidence that had mellowed down from her attempting to be normal had come back in tenfold. She couldn’t blame her ex-husband now, she hasn’t felt excited by something in such a long time. Dressed in a pair of jeans that she would later burn, Linnette had worn a wolf mask with a ginger wig. She felt idiotic in the mask if she was being honest. It didn’t cover her head entirely like Teddy’s but still. On her old jobs, she never bothered with anonymity since anyone that saw her would end up murdered but she couldn’t screw up this mission and playing with a team for the first time would mean different results than working alone. Her outfit would seem troublesome to most people but oddly enough, she performed better in tight clothing and plus she looked hot while getting the job done.

“We won’t get caught.” She answered Teddy confidently. Her eyes rolled at his threat. Seeing Teddy in this setting for the first time was amusing to her but she’d table her thoughts until another day. “Or fuck up. We got you, boss.”

@rahikumar​ @wtcddy​

Following Teddy, Rahi gets out of the van — readjusting his straight out of Party City Bernie Sanders mask over his face. All animals were out of stock, he’d explained as soon as they’d met up. It was either this or a Powerpuff Girl. 

“Yeah,” he mutters. “What she said.” 

Three large duffle bags hand over his shoulders; he hands one over to Teddy, the next one to Linnette, and keeps the third for himself. Between the three of them, there’s enough explosives to send his pals at the space station one huge fiery middle-finger. Wall of China my ass.

“Alright, so—” He points to Teddy’s bag, “Bombs.” — then to Linnette’s, — “Bombs.” And to his own, “Bombs.” 

Bernie Sander’s unmoving mouth then goes on to explain: “They’re not contact bombs, so you don’t have to be freaked out. You won’t set them off just by touching them or hitting them a funny way — I set a timer and they’re safe to handle for the next half-hour or until we manually set them off.” 

This isn’t typically how car bombs work, instead relying on a door being opened or the engine started, but Oliver had made his wishes clear: everything connected for one effective boom. Synchronized. And what is an engineer for, if not for this? Playing with the system had been the most fun Rahi had had since... well, astronauts and spaceships. And hell, does he miss it. 

“You’re gonna want to attach it to the underside of the car — it’s magnetic, so you don’t have to do anything, it’ll just stay. Place the bombs, get as far away from the line of fire as you can; by then, you’d have twenty minutes, give or take.” He turns to Teddy: “Switch.” He offers him the square aluminum circuit box; it isn’t pretty, but there was no need for it to be. A large switch — deadly as ever — sits at the very middle. “You want me to take care of this or you got it?” 

@wtcddy​ 

[rahi-kumar]

crimsonfaux‌:

@rahikumar​

Ever since the road to recovery started with Oliver, the thoughts of revenge ravaged his veins. He would never speak aloud that his mind was still fragile, even though he had worked his body to the brink of exhaustion many times. He had gone over the explosive plans from the Art Institute, making small notes on the bombs where necessary. Rahi held a special expertise when it came to these things. He slunk into his wheelchair as he sat behind his office desk, making the measurements and tweaking some of the finer details of the blue plans. Oliver had texted Rahi to meet him in his office when he had the time to go over the next stage that would inevitably go off with a bang. 

Once he heard the other enter the office, he glanced up with a slow smile. “hey man, how’s it going? I was going over the stats of the last explosives, and I wasn’t sure if these tweaks would be necessary.” Oliver started to ramble off, but paused blinking slowly. “We need for them to be compartmentalized to fit under multiple vehicles in a mile radius, with the detonator connected to each one.. Is that possible?” He quirked a brow as he stared at the other awaiting his input.

“Hey.” He smiles bright upon entering Oliver’s office — a certain high that accompanies the meeting, knowing what it entails. Even in his wheelchair, Oliver looks the part; controlled, powerful, trustworthy. Cheekily, he adds, “You look like a hot Professor X.”

Pulling out a chair, he takes the seat opposite Oliver and listens, nodding along with his words. “Right, right, right.” He makes mental notes of everything, cross-referencing what he already has. “All of them connected to one detonator? ...You wanna set them all off at once?” Rahi is a technical man; he knows the scope of the explosions, what wires carry within them, what to use as a trigger. The plan itself, however, is not always his business — he’s not always fine with that, but he’s used to it. “I can’t connect all explosives to one detonator, but I can make all the individual detonators into one mother system so that—” English please, he can almost hear Oliver saying, so he cuts his explanation short: “It doesn’t matter. Yeah, I can connect them all to the same switch and it all goes boom at once.” 

[rahi-kumar]

vixcens‌:

“Ouch..” She said hearing him dissect the crowd to a T. Most guys that came on weekdays we’re losers. They were either rich assholes who felt entitled to every amenity in the bar or they were grossly handsy with the dancers and felt entitled to them. “Tuesday may be really bad for the bar but the weekends, that’s a different story.” She said thinking about how packed the place would be and how it drew all crowds of people that we’re more than ready to spend a pretty penny. “Slow  day though, if i’m gonna dance for like 10 people I might as well have fun because you and I both know that’s the only thing i’m getting out of tonight.” She said motioning towards the rag tag group of men sprinkled throughout the bar watching the other girls dance.

Off her words, Rahi looks around — and sure enough, not ten people, including him, are present. As discreetly as he can, he clicks his phone’s screen on, checking the time. Maybe he’d be stood up, after all. That’s the thing about criminals: for the most part, they’re all extremely unreliable. Go figure. 

“And they’re all such lookers, too,” he adds with a laugh, a clear joke on the less-than-fortunate faces that have their eyes glued to the girls’ asses. If Rahi were her, he wouldn’t want to dance for them, either. “There’s— private room things here, right?” Gay guy walks into a bar and asks the dancer about prostitution. You won’t believe what happens next. “Do you... do that?” 

[rahi-kumar]

polcrity‌:

there’s a thick accumulation of congealing blood in his nose and when he sniffles, it shoots directly into the back of his throat— like that last loogie you spit up after you think you’re over a cold. a few hacks and a wince later, he spits the thing up into the pile of napkins he’s wadded up and stares at the mass for a few seconds. “Shit’s gross, huh?” but there’s a little pride behind that word.

he folds the napkins over themselves, forcing them into a tight ball before he tosses it over the bar— directly into the trashcan. 

“That’s the whole point of it, right??” the pounding behind his eyes, the sore throat, the weakness in every single muscle of his now battered body. “It’s like… every single part of you’s gotta work overtime to keep up.” 

“Feels like electricity or something.” a lazy shrug of his already sore shoulders.

Rahi stares down the the blood clogs, his nose from scrunching up in mild disgust. “It’s not pixie dust.”

He listens to an explanation he’d somewhat seen coming from Darcy; there was an air about him that indicated he likes this, blood, and pain, and all. Rahi tries to relate, but can’t. The adrenaline he gets — too often seeking it by the means of anarchy. But the violence? He’ll take it — but he’s hardly glad for broken bones. 

“I don’t know, man,” Rahi shrugs. “Getting my face beat in isn’t exactly in my list of kinks.” 

He continues, “It’s happened a couple of times.” Show Rahi a brown kid who hasn’t gone back home from school with a bloody nose at least once and he’ll show you one lucky motherfucker. “But it didn’t feel good. Maybe I’m not cool enough.” 

[rahi-kumar]

wtcddy‌:

“ —UH, yeah ? cupcakes are overrated and disgusting. you know what really gets me there is a bowl of instant mashed potatoes. talk about nut at first sight. ” it’s the delirium talking, has to be, because teddy can’t remember being this talkative all day, instead closed off behind the walls that go up under pressure. still, a snide comment is hard to resist when it’s knocking around in your skull for more than two hours. “ see, here’s why i don’t believe you, ” he begins, plucking a cigarette from the crumpled carton hidden somewhere in the pocket of his sweats. he offers a careful glance to the stairwell, just to make sure oliver isn’t watching. “ you worked for nasa, and you’re still not sure of their existence. think that should be a pretty big red flag, yeah ? at least with dinosaurs ‘n shit there’s proof. everyone wants to be a conspiracy theorist. jet fuel doesn’t melt steel beams and all that garbage. ” the cigarette flickers to life, and he swallows down a toke, lifts his eyes to the ceiling. “ if you turn that on, i swear to god i’ll leave. ”

“No, no, no—” Rahi’s whole body motions along with the words, head and hands shaking in the negative. “I’m sure of their existence. Period. I’m unsure of the details of it. Which, honestly, is just a matter of time and resources. Think of it like this: we’ve always been sure about black holes. Or— we’ve been sure that black holes existed for a long time. But we didn’t know the details of it until recently, and there’s a lot of specifics that need to be figured out. Distance, size, energy, hell— what it looks like. We got kind of a blurry picture last year, but we’ve known about it for long before that. We know for a fact that it’s there, and that it exists.” He lifts both hands up in a ta-da sort of fashion. “Same thing with aliens.” 

As for the TV, “Hey, you’re the one that said you wanted to watch ‘dick sucking nurses’. I’m but a humble people-pleaser.”