#03. * ❪ IN ARTICULO MORTIS ┊ after. ❫
❝Are you having a party?❞ - Sonny
* rocky horror sentence prompts / accepting.
RUIN SURROUNDS : STANDING IN ASHES of those dear. smoke - tainted blue runs down cheeks in rivets, red splattered along ripped fishnets, lipstick not all blushing rouge ( HIS FAULT ! ) a party it was, but now heels –––––– & heart –––––– are broken ; remnants of what was, what could’ve been stab at chest ‘neath the decorative stain of eyeshadow streaked down pale skin. deathly quiet settles & the only noise until the boy’s jarring question is poorly smothered broken sobs, the voice penetrating with its obnoxious volume. rise to wobbling feet is one barely conquered, only with the aid of the royal furter dignity no one’s capable of shaking from the prince ( DO YOUR WORST, INFERIOR ONE ) voice, however, remains captured by tears : ❛ ––––––– ?? ❜
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TRACKING DOWN brad majors has been a feat just short of incredible. with transylvanian safe houses ransacked & otherwise abandoned, the doctor –– alone & left for dead –– had resources few & far between. one such asset was none other than mr. majors : a puppet, with strings that, hopefully, were still in tact. & none other than brad, scandalously clad with a delicious sway to his hips, is spied within the far reaches of the lounge, upon a platform of his own. CLICKING : an approaching sound of menace –– underwhelming, compared to loud volumes of unfamiliar melodies & stringing conversations. lights from every end of the spectrum dance on bared alien skin, tantalizing in its own regard. with a catlike grace & an grin just short of cheshire, he awaits the taller man’s gaze. silken tones break away from the laugh rumbling in an ivory throat in an effort to carry his voice over the noise of the crowd. ❛ my, my, ❜ he tuts, smirk growing. ❛ what a pleasant surprise. ❜ // * @sodominant .
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