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whump-the-caretaker · 5 years ago

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Shifter pt. 12

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Beck was not accustomed to just doing what he was told. Many people in his life had come up against his force of will with much kinder consequences, and he always stubbornly set himself against any attempts to control his life. This was just… so much worse, and yet he still kept pushing back, no matter how many ways Ricky found to punish them.

He could take a beating. He could live with an empty stomach.

Which was of course how they ended up in a standoff--on either side of a glass wall with Avery in the middle. Beck prowled restlessly outside of the tall glass tank, eyes fixed on Avery where he knelt with Ricky’s knife at his throat, as still as possible under his hands.

“Apparently, viewers took a liking to him,” Ricky mused. It had been an accident getting the human on camera, a camera left rolling to catch a behind-the-scenes vignette they made when Avery came to pick Beck up off the ground at the end of a scene. “I guess we just needed a monster fucker.”

Beck jolted into human form without pausing in his pacing. “Leave him alone.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t be doing anything to him. You will.” He ruffled Avery’s hair. “You’ve done enough mythical creatures. We’re going for mermaid. I want to get you blowing him underwater. Or, I mean, you can do tentacles, I guess. I can sell that.”

“Fuck you.” Beck snapped. For all the humiliating, degrading things he’d had to do for this man, he’d not actually fucked anyone on camera, and he wasn’t about to start with Avery. “I’m not dragging him into this.”

“Uh, you are.”

"I said no!” Beck kicked the wall of the tank. He was breathing heavily as he continued, “And you won’t hurt him if you want anything else out of me.”

Not Avery. He shouldn’t have to suffer this.

Silence hung between them for a long stretch.

Ricky tapped the knife ponderously on Avery’s skin. “The good doctor was almost right, you know. Way back when. Very little sells better than sex.”

Beck frowned, more jarred by the non-sequitur than the reminder of those first experiments and recordings. Avery held still and tried not to worry about where this was going.

“If there’s one thing that comes in a close second, though, it’s violence.”

The knife pulled tight against him, and he hissed. Beck’s eyes went wide.

“And if you won’t do what I ask, then, well, I’ll take what I can get, I guess. I don’t need people I can’t use. ”

Beck shook his head slowly. Avery felt a trickle of blood run down his skin to pool between his collarbones.

“So what’s it going to be, kitten? A blowjob or a snuff film?”

Each word in that sentence hit Avery like a physical blow.

The knife under his chin forced his head up so that his neck was stretched out on display, split skin stinging badly as it pulled.

Beck shook his head slowly and dropped to his knees.

“Good boy.”

“Don’t,” Avery breathed, not sure who he was talking to. “Don’t do this.”

“Don’t you worry. This will all be over before you know it,” Ricky said, shifting so that he could check the cuff on Avery’s ankle, securing him to the bottom of the tank by a short chain. While he was still there, turning and heading for the ladder, a hose fell in and started pumping water down, soaking Avery’s clothes and already filling up the tank.

Beck scrambled in the moment Ricky dropped the ladder for him. “Avery, shit, I’m sorry.” He bent to tug at the chain holding him down and then grabbed onto his shoulders. “I don’t know how to do this.”

“Better figure it out fast!” Ricky called out to him, stepping around behind the camera man to begin directing shots. “I’m not turning the water off until you do.”

“Hey, hey,” Avery said, getting a hold of Beck’s shoulders to steady him. “It’s all right.”

“It’s not alright, Avery! Fuck!”

Avery focused on calming him down, ignoring his own feelings about the instructions they’d been given. It was surprisingly easy, once he got Beck to stop panicking, to help him figure out a scaled tail, more serpent than fish. It was stunning, glittering white scales near wrapped around them, and nearly distracting enough to make Avery forget the cameras in their faces. Up against the glass with his head barely above water, he tried to focus just on them while Beck slipped beneath the surface.

Days and scenes blended into a stream of mistreatment. It seemed like every day they tested the limits of Beck’s shifting and personal boundaries. Over and over, he sucked it up and did what he had to to keep them both safe, but no matter what shape he took, it felt like some part of him was being stolen. The worst were the times they made Avery help. Ben could take being cornered when it was just him, could manage the humiliation on his own, but watching them do it to Avery made his skin crawl.

Over time, there were fewer restraints, fewer guns. They could almost forget that it wasn't their choice. The first time Beck laughed, halfway between shapes and snickering at the face Avery made in response, it died on his lips. All of them grew complacent, until the moment when Beck realized they almost weren’t being guarded at all.

The moment he found himself sliding on hooves and being held up by Avery, he’d been nearly too distracted to notice Ricky sending the last tech to get a prop. They were alone with just Ricky and the cameraman.

Neither of them was actually restrained. There were no guns.

Maybe if he’d paused to think, he’d have talked himself out of it, rationalized that there was no getting out even if he did take Ricky down, that there were men in the hallway, that he was still wearing a blocker... but he didn’t. One moment he was unsteadily just trying to stand, the next he was turning on Ricky, already halfway into a panther as he launched himself across the room.

With a curse, Avery followed suit, only a beat behind him. He grabbed for the camera man, trying to subdue him before he could sound the alarm or get his hand to a weapon.

Everyone was shouting. Beck tasted blood, teeth sinking into flesh, and heart pounding, but it still wasn't fast enough.

With one arm in tatters, holding off the beast, Ricky managed to activate the blocker, and Beck collapsed with a strangled snarl.

Two men ran in from the hall, guns drawn.

“Where the fuck were you?” Ricky shouted. “Fix it! Now!”

They rushed Avery, surrounding him, weapons aimed at his head. "Get on the ground!" Through the haze of pain, Beck heard Avery give in. Techs and guards were flooding in from elsewhere in the building.

Standing over him, Ricky was bleeding and furious.

Beck choked for breath between the noises being wrenched from his throat. Shocks of pain ran over his skin like electricity and lanced up and down his spine. The shapes he flashed through felt like they were being twisted out of him.

It went on for decades, his mind never really blocking out the seizing pain. He choked for air, begging with human tongue and wordless whines for it to stop before it abruptly cut off.

Beck sobbed and twitched through a final few shapes, ending up almost human, just a light dusting of fur across his skin to mark otherwise.

He forced his eyes open and saw Avery with his face ground into the floor, cuffs on both his wrists and his ankles. After shoving him hard enough to split the skin of his forehead, they hauled him up.

Beck lay there, dazed and unable to look away. It was the techs who grabbed him, and Beck flinched but didn't fight them. He let them manhandle him even as they pulled out some foreign sort of hooking contraption. It looked like a fucking bottle opener. A high-tech, heavy bottle opener.

"These blockers really aren't designed for someone quite as rebellious as you,” Ricky snapped, moving Beck’s head with his shoe. “This might hurt a bit, but we wouldn't want it to fail, would we? Sit still."

As they hooked the device in and ripped the blocker free of his neck, he finally strained against their hands. A sharp spike stabbed through him, up into his skull. The line of pain stretched, pulling out of him, like drawing barbed wire through his spinal column. Then it was gone. He realized he’d been screaming.

He had a moment, free from the blocker, where he thought numbly about fighting--a moment where he stared at the gun to Avery’s head--and then a new one was pressed to his skin, snaking along the raw path of nerves like a shark after blood.

Ricky waved the burned out blocker in front of him. "See what you did?"

He nodded, eyes not focusing on the tiny device so close to his face. He was too distracted watching the tool they'd used, already disappearing into a technician's pocket.

Ricky grabbed his face and yanked it around to him. "I don't see how it's so hard for you to understand. I'm in charge here. You do what I say. Shift when I say. You--" Ricky stopped, straightening up and correcting himself. “What am I saying? Dumb mutts need to be trained, not taught.” He turned to glare at the confused tech in the doorway, the one that had only just returned with the lasso he’d been sent for. “Go get me a whip. And be quick about it this time.”

Beck set his jaw and prepared to be defiant. It would be worth it, he reminded himself. Whatever pain he suffered was worth the spark of hope. He had to prove to himself that he’d put up some modicum of resistance. He’d had to try.

But Ricky didn’t turn to him.

He turned to Avery.

“Give me his back,” he ordered the guards holding Avery upright.

“No. Wait.” Beck found himself breathless. “No, it was me.”

Someone had the forethought to grab him early, to get a collar--a shifting collar on a dogcatcher’s pole--around his neck.

“No, no-- Let me go!” he shouted, trying to rip himself free and growing frantic as the tech returned with the whip. “I did it. It was my fault. Stay away from him.”

He was desperate to get to Avery, a shift taking him almost without his meaning it when they cut Avery’s shirt away. A tiger that needed a second pole and even more techs to restrain. Avery was tensed, all the muscles in his back braced for what was coming.

“Lover boy has looks,” Ricky said with some surprise. “Too bad we’re going to be marking up those delicious shoulders.”

Snapping into a wolf, Beck howled. They could barely restrain him as he shifted form after form, searching for something that could break free. Nothing was small or big enough.

The first blow cracked loudly through the space, freezing Beck in place for a horrified moment. Avery shuddered and went still, skin turning a violent red where he’d been hit. Nearly immediately, Beck threw himself back into frantic attempts to get between them.

Gone were the days when he could only manage a half dozen forms. He was a whirl of teeth and talons, fur and scales until Avery’s back was in ribbons and he was left as a fox, heaving with stress and fatigue, straining uselessly on the collar.

Blood decorated the floor, sharp and iron in Beck’s nose, and Avery wasn’t standing on his own. Ricky passed the whip away and went back to crouch in front of the fox. Beck could still see the teeth marks in his arms, but Avery had shed far more blood by now.

“Got it?”

Beck bared his throat.

#whump #caretaker whump #shifter whump #nonhuman whumpee #nonhuman whump #cw: noncon #cw: whips #cw: blood #cw: dehumanization #series: shifter #avery carter #beckett ohare

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grinlikecheshire-blog · 7 years ago

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the bench

location: the streets of west hollow in the middle of the night characters: Charlie Atwood, Jess Copeland mentions: Augustus, Jace, Josie summary: a timeless chat between two friends

jess

Normally, Jess didn't love the south side of town this time of night, it had a sharpness to its shadows that usually unnerved her. However, there was something beautifully juxtaposed with her clutching a hot cocoa next to Charlie, the two blissfully lost in their own rapport to even consider the monsters that might be leering in the darkness. According to them, nothing else mattered right now. Nothing but the fact Jess had been given one marshmallow less than Charlie at the late-night corner store and nobody was ever going to hear the end of it. "I just think it's discrimination, that's all." She ended her rant with a shrug and a sip, almost burning off her upper lip. "Anyway, before I was so wrongly done by — it was still my go and I am here to assume that you, sir, get treated special every venue you go to." She announced, swaying aimlessly as they walked.

charlie

Their nights together had quickly become something he'd grown to look forward to, even if it meant he had very little time left to feed (if at all). He was also grateful for his sessions with Josie, wherein now he felt confident enough to be with Jess this late at night should they be approached by someone undesirable. While he would rather it not come to that for several reasons, at least he knew he wasn't endangering her by keeping her out this late at night. "Actually, sexism, probably," he agreed with her, a half-grin planted on his face. "It's the marshmallow gap, unfortunately," This late into the evening, he had to be extra careful with his accent, as it tended to slip out more when he was tired. Still, he was fully prepared to play it off as fake. He laughed briefly, but couldn't exactly say that she was wrong, "True. I am endlessly charming and a joy to be around, so you better get used to me getting that extra marshmallow, Jess. You simply pale in comparison," he said, patting her on the head. "I bet you're used to talking your way out of everything, and you couldn't name one thing you weren't able to talk yourself out of,"

jess

Jess shot him a playful look, then took to raising her chin and brows like some indignant old woman might. "Is that an assumption?" She asked with a certain lilt that begged for clarification. If it wasn't, well, she was going to treat it as one. "Mostly true. Except for every time, my mother can smell a lie, which is inhumanely often, just for the record." She pointed out, taking another long sip and considering a new angle to probe him from. "Okay, so if you're as charming as you say you are, then I'm going to assume you are one with the Patrick Swayze's of the world... I bet you've made people accidentally fall in love with you more times than you're even aware of."

charlie

Matching her, he placed his hand on his chin, "Indubitably," he said, using his accent on purpose this time. Charlie made a note to avoid meeting her mother, as it was usually with parents that he had to lie more often than not. They always seemed to be interested in asking what he was doing, what his parents were doing, all things he had to know but hated saying anyways. "Have you ever gotten away with lying to her?" He asked, hands in his pockets. He wondered if his mother would've been good at picking up lies, but Charlie wouldn't ever be able to know. As a human, he almost never lied. He cringed at her assumption, knowing all too well how accurate it was. "I'll go with 'mostly true' here, too, if only not to seem so full of myself. It's accidental, there's only one girl for me," he said, before he could really catch it and stop himself from doing it. "Uh," but he had nothing to say--Charlie, who was so good at thinking on his feet, was caught off guard by his own revelation. There was only one girl for him, and she was dead.

jess

Jess had half the mind to demand Charlie talk in an accent forever, deciding it fit him like a well-tailored trench coat. "Oh sure, what pissed off teenager would I have been if I hadn't?" She grinned, fondly remembering how many weeks she'd walked around with a dumb tattoo after he'd mother had promptly said no a thousand times, getting a terrifying thrill every time the news almost made itself public. Drawn out of her rebellious nostalgia by Charlie's answer to her turn, Jess looked at him with doe-eyes and froth on her face. "You're joking." The words fell out of her mouth. "No, seriously, all this time and you just now are telling me there's a girl?" She paused, then immediately threw a hand out towards him with a nervous laugh. "Wai— wait, no, this isn't one of those movie moments where it's about to get weird, right?"

charlie

"Well, go on then. What's the biggest lie you've gotten away with? Let me guess," he looked at her, amusement twinkling in his eyes as he analyzed her head to toe. Taking what he knew about her and the little she had said about her relationship with her mother: "You got a tattoo, or your belly button pierced?"

He wanted to laugh along with her, to dramatically say it was her (it had always been her, or something similar), but this was far too big of a sore spot for him. Idiot, he thought. Charlie hesitated. It wasn’t fair to have to lie to Jess, not fair at all, but he’d gone and brought up Gabriele and she’d asked and now: here they were. Jess waiting for an answer and Charlie taking far too long to give her one. He had a skilled backstory, ready to be called upon whenever needed, but it felt wrong to be dishonest with someone who had quickly grown to mean a great deal to him. “Sorry,” he said, when she pressed, “it’s just, uh. She passed away,”

jess

Jess stared at him, fingers clutching her cup before she squinted at him supiciously. "If you're totally psychic and haven't told me yet this is the moment our friendship goes down the drain hole, Charlie Brown. I'm not here for perjurers." She told him, then tacked on quickly, "Learned that word the other day, been killin' to use it. Thank you for the opportunity." Continuing to meander alongside him, Jess noticed the way their steps grew slower. Something big was coming, a doozy, something she probably shouldn't have asked and for a moment, Jess wanted to smack herself in the forehead. There she went again, saying something dumb. "Oh..." The word wafted out of her mouth before she could stop it, a lame response, and not the sensationally empathetic one he deserved. "Sorry, that's.... that sucks. That really sucks." Jess turned away, feeling embarrassed and stupid and sorry. "I mean, all things considered, she was super lucky to know you. I know I am." She looked back at him, stuffing one hand into her pocket, stretching the awkward moment out underneath the fabric. "You're the best person I've met since... well, I haven't met Tom Hanks yet but one day, it's coming, I can feel it." She joked, for lack of knowing how else to be in heavy moments like these.

charlie

He smacked on a grin as she called him psychic and waggled his fingertips in her direction, "I see a tall, handsome man coming to greet you with good news," he replied, in a borderline offensive Russian accent.

"I'm very proud of you, that's a good one. I'm going to save it," He hated this reaction. It was why he usually avoided talking about Gabriele, though she was always somehow at the tip of his tongue, every sunset, every four-leaf clover, and on and on, reminding him of her. It was still painful, but he'd long since accepted that it would remain that way. Charlie simply hated when the other person felt uncomfortable, and he felt the need to brush it off, but how could he possibly do so when he'd already gone and said that there was only one girl for him? "Hm, yeah," he began, "well it's good to hear you've got a great head on your shoulders. I'd have been more shocked if you didn't know how lucky you were to have me," he said, letting out a scoff of a laugh more than real one. Even his voice sounded heavy, and he hated it, hated ruining their time together with stories of his past. It's all like that, he wanted to say, it's better you don't ask.

But he didn't. Instead, she brought up Tom Hanks, and it caught him so off-guard that he genuinely laughed. "The day you meet Tom Hanks is the day I resign as your best friend. I just can't compete with that guy, I'm sorry Jess, but that's the way it has to be,"(edited)

jess

Even though the moment wasn't going anywhere, and the two of them were likely acutely aware of what Charlie had just admitted, Jess was happy to blow over it if he wanted her to. Perhaps, if she'd known him for longer and wasn't so scared she was going to ruin this friendship with a classic dumb move of her own, she would have hesitated on the mention of A Someone. She wanted to ask, naturally, she was curious. But Charlie didn't look like he wanted to tell. God knows, she'd never named dropped Jace either, given that part of her was so excited to have someone on the outside of Mystery Inc. for once... it was like she could just be anyone she wanted. Hearing him solidify their friendship with a single title though made Jess start while her arm flung out of her pocket to smack against his front and stop him in place. "Hold the phone, Post Malone, my what?" Sure, some people might have let that moment slip to save anyone the embarrassment, but not Jess. Jess wasn't about to let something like that go. "My whaaaaat?" She cooed in sing-song, lips spreading into a wry grin now as she provoked him to say it again, just for her satisfaction.

charlie

Had he been anyone else, he might've gotten embarrassed. Perhaps stammered, stuttered through some sort of half-assed explanation as to why he'd said what he did. And while Charlie often had his moments of nervousness (mainly when speaking to someone older and more powerful than him), Charlie wasn't that person. He certainly wasn't that person with Jess. Challenging her teasing, he leaned in close, looked around as if he was making sure no one was watching and spoke, emphasizing each syllable, "My best friend," he inhaled sharply as he leaned back, "Please, Jess. I've read your diary, alright? I know you write my name in it a thousand times over, talking about how much you were dying to hear me say it. I've done my research on you, contacted your references and I've decided: you're hired,"

jess

She mocked a troubled gasp, shoving him away from her a little as if offended though every part of her reading the opposite. Despite actually owning a diary, but never having written in it more than a few pages here and there in her life, she mental noted to go home tonight and write their names in a heart with a specific label beneath it that it was just a best friend heart and if Jace happened to find it, not to be worried, even though he would likely be worried anyway because he lived on Anxiety Avenue.... "You didn't." She scoffed, but her lips quickly softened into a grin once more. "Okay, fine. You caught me. At least now I can actually quit my day job." She threw her hands up in surrender before toeing at the pavement, smile sobering into one of genuine comfort and optimism. Her best friend. Her new best friend. Jess would bask in that for a while. "Your go." She prompted. "If you assume I'm your best friend though, I'm going to call cheat round because you already read my diary and might be psychic, so..."

charlie

He watched her little performance with great amusement, though all the while he acted as if he had done nothing wrong. Hands on his hips, he looked away, particularly indignant. "I did, and I'll do it again," he shook his fist at her, but then scrunched his face up in disbelief. A thin-lipped, though not unkind, smile on his face, "I feel like you're almost always looking for some excuse to leave your job," he teased.

Charlie felt warm, though it was the dead of night in early winter, and he found he couldn't wait to tell Finley about this. There was a paranoid thought that budded that hoped she wouldn't be jealous--after all, their relationships were entirely different--but it was quickly suffocated. He knew Finley better than that. He snapped his fingers, as if that had been exactly what he was about to do, and whined (only just a little). "I was actually going to assume your life has been forever changed from this moment, but I already know that's one-hundred percent true, so there's no fun in it. But I will say that I bet you make friends like this with everyone you meet, since I can't imagine anyone not liking you. So there you go. There's not a person in this world that doesn't have fond memories with Jess," he said, nodding with finality and placing his frozen hands back in his pockets. If only being a vampire meant you had extra body heat, too. He laughed, "Look at this becoming a compliment-fest. I swear, I'm not such a sap," he totally, totally was.

jess

"You're not wrong," She threw fingers at him then in jest, hating her reception job simply for the fact that her dad had been the one to coin it for her when she'd first come back to West Hollow last year. Sure, being able to tease Nolan on the regular was debatably worth it, but as a whole, Minesweeper was only so entertaining on slow days. Keeping an easy grin on her face, she listened to his assumption of her and even if the slight squint of her eyes left showing positivity, the smile didn't. It was the kind of lingering expression she wore whenever her mom said something indirectly insulting and Jess stubbornly planned not to let her real feelings show. There was a lot she could say to that assumption, but key rules determined that she make it brisk as not to fill in all the gaps. There was something fun about a mystery in her eyes, something alluring about missing details as Jess was always the type to search for the hidden answers. But this topic was just too much to get into, so she jerked her chin away and looked ahead of them instead, trying to appear as apathetic as she could. Not Jess's strong suit. "You're enough humble for the both of us so, sure. I'll take it. I'm a fond memory maker, it's my patent design." She shrugged, wondering if that was enough. "I'm gonna assume now that you just like giving people compliments, especially people you call your best friends... in fact, I bet you just say that to all the girls." She teased.

charlie

He grabbed her fingers, looking at her dead in the eyes in the most serious way he could muster, "Then run away with me, Jess. Together, we could see the world!" But then, he abruptly let them go, dramatically turning away from her, "Ah, you'll never leave that job of yours. You're just playing with my heart, but I know you're too ambitious for the dreams I have of us,"

There were certain tells, he knew, when someone had hit a sore spot. Charlie was all too aware of them, having unintentionally studied humanity and their tics as he aged without aging. Besides, he wore his heart on his sleeve and tried to disguise it far too often--going as far as to practice in the mirror--so he knew a thing or two about topics that shouldn't be pressed any further. He'd had a sneaking suspicion, when her smile froze on her face, but it wasn't until she turned away that his beliefs were confirmed. A conversation for another time, perhaps, but some nights with Jess often had the feeling like they were walking on the edge of the world. Maybe tomorrow wouldn't happen, and it wasn't because he had no faith in their friendship, but it was because Charlie was painfully aware of how short-lived the lives of humans were. "Hmm," he mused, trying to keep it light, "that sounds like someone's cheating. That's fine, I get it," he said, his voice purposefully rising in pitch, "you just don't trust me,"

What she said was, objectively, factual. Charlie did like giving people compliments, he liked to make people happy. His favourite kinds were the blindsiding ones, ones that came out of nowhere. But as she continued on, it plainly wasn't. In fact, for decades he couldn't even say he'd had a single friend. And though Jess did qualify as a best friend, could it even be true, given the great lie he kept from her about his identity? "I do," he said, with a careless shrug and a sly grin on his face, "you're just one of many, obviously. It's not like you take up all of my nights, or anything..."

jess

Laughing at his scripted display, her fingers felt like happy, warm little twigs in his hand. Cold hands, warm heart they always said and Jess had assumed that was just something to make people with crappy circulatory systems feel better... Not Charlie, though. For him, she'd agree with the They this one time only. After all, They were just a social monarch, one of which Jess had no intention of hailing should neither of them be their own sistering government. "Hey. No hard feelings, I bet you hear this lots but, I don't trust a lot of people..." She announced in a tone then that was very clearly just as scripted, then, she broke character to add; "Except for David Attenborough, he's never given me a reason to doubt him. Pedestal guy right there." She pointed out, strolling along happily as the conversation took yet another river rapids bend of positive motion. "Oh no, sure, I get it, I'm just... I mean, you know, my own sleep deprivation is nothing to go by when it comes to us being friends or anything..." She wiggled a finger between them, with a smug grin. "It's not like, you know, I'm living in another timezone for you or anything."

charlie

"David Attenborough is actually my father, so," he tsked, "by proxy that means you have to trust me. Attenborough, Atwood, same thing really. Just had to change it a little to avoid all the nepotism, you know? I'd like to think my accomplishments were my accomplishments, and not just because of who my dad is," His hands had gotten so cold, by this point, he was ready to put them in his mouth. In fact, he did: he placed his right hand in his mouth, and when he spoke next, it was muffled. "No, not at all," but he gave up quickly, spitting his hand back out and shoving it in his pocket, "living in a different timezone is nothing. When you live on Mars for me, then maybe I'll come to consider what you're suggesting. Is it my go or yours, by the way?"

jess

Hearing his last name, Jess found herself smiling goofily. Charlie Atwood, he sounded like a famous something and she was about to tell him so until he spoke straight to her soul. I'd like to think my accomplishments were my accomplishments, and not just because of who my dad is... The words hit her in the chest like a freight train heading for nowhere, fast. She could relate in every sense of the presumably false statement, having a better idea of the inside of her dad's wallet than she wished she did. Though, in great reflection of herself, Jess couldn't say she had much to be proud of in terms of her own accomplishments. Mystery Inc? The day anyone someone who wasn't in Mystery Inc. congratulated her on the idea would be the day Catherine broke a genuine smile or Hell froze over, whichever one came first. "Mars," She made a face then and hacked a faux spitball onto the pavement. "Call me when Jupiter's free." She announced before leaning out to drop her empty cup in the public garbage, then grabbed ahold of the back railing of Their Park Bench and loped over it the monkey way instead of rounding it like a normal person. Sat on the back of it, sneakers firmly planted where her butt should be, Jess tucked herself into her windbreaker, chest to knees, a shiver radiating out of her. "It's your go, Cheater." She told him, straightening back up to peer for him.

charlie

Following suit, he shook his head in amusement as Jess crawled over the park bench. Walking around to the front, he bent his knees twice before jumping up onto the bench, shaking its foundation, and plopping down on the seat so that he had to stare at her, leaning his head to rest against the backboard of the bench. "Jupiter, really? Not Neptune," he shook his head, a look of disgust on his face, "And here I actually let myself believe you liked me," He stared up at the sky, wanting to throw a wrench in their conversation, but not sure of how to go about it, exactly. Finally, it came to him. "You are..." he began, but trailed off, realizing he needed to look her dead in the eyes this time, and when he did, there was a twinkle of mischief planted in his own, "an excellent singer, and one day--I pray it's today--you will bless me with your angelic singing voice. I will only accept Backstreet Boy's Larger Than Life, to be perfectly clear, here,"

jess

"Not Neptune." She confirmed, "Neptune is for wussies. It's also super far from the sun. Now let me tell you, as someone who is vastly experienced in space travel," She deemed, hand flapping out in a social gesture. "If any of us are gonna follow Icarus's footsteps it's yours truly," She put a hand to her chest then, "And how the heck am I supposed to do that..." She glanced upwards, counting in her head, "Eight gas-balls away from the sun, my friend? Riddle me that." She explained, before waving him off. "I mean, don't. It's rhetorical. Just admit I'm right and so we don't have to settle this mano e mano." She grinned. He got her, like a fish to sparkly bait, she was hanging onto the end of his statement for what she was exactly. Leering, craning her neck, she waiting with bated breath, interested to hear his assumption of her. When it came, however, Jess felt her face get hot, a blessing in disguise really with the weather outside but still a curse in some evidential way. Looking down at her hands, she tried not to grin, mostly at his song request and a lot because once again, he wasn't entirely wrong. "Debatable. You're charting subjective waters here," She grinned, pressing her fingers into her palm until he knuckles cracked. "So close, but not close enough, Sinbad. What'll it be next, waffles or ice cream?"

charlie

“No way, hosé. Not a chance. I’m going to fly myself into the sun first,” he stood up, pointing East, “and I’ll race you there,” a challenge rested on his face, as if he was indeed daring her to hop up and race him to the sunrise. It wasn’t that far off, at this point, and it would warm both of them up—assuming, of course, she wasn’t one to back down from a challenge. Even one as silly and childish as this. Actually, scratch that. Especially because it was as silly and childish like this. Close, though? He hadn’t expected to be close at all. Sometimes even he shocked himself with how much he could guess about a person. His interest was intensely piqued, and he had half a mind to dramatically beg her at her feet. He tilted his head down underneath hers, so that she could still see his expression, “Debatable, eh? Oh, Jess,” he moved away, “poor, misguided Jess. There is only one judge of that, and that’s me. I’m an expert listener, I listen to music all the time so I may as well have a PhD. But I’ll go with waffles, this go around,”March 7, 2018

jess

At the sudden announcement of a race, Jess felt herself start, unsure if he was being literal or not. Her feet were ready, if there was anything she was good at it was running. Usually away, but running anywhere all the same. Knees bouncing in anticipation, she stared at him, blue meeting brown with wild excitement. Listening to him waffle on about almost getting his assumption right, she smirked, eyes slimming down into mischief. "Tell you what...." She drew out the silence then for dramatic effect, "You beat me to the sun and I'll give you another hint." Her expression turned bright, before she clambered off the bench with both hands coming to pin Charlie down onto the seat, making sure she collected herself a healthy head start by weighing him down before taking off aimlessly into the park with a wild scream of excitement.March 8, 2018

charlie

Charlie let out the gasp of a laugh as she completely sabotaged his chances, shouting cheater! after her before waiting a moment longer then setting off after her. Running as a human required more effort than he'd imagined. It had been ages since he'd done so (actually, he wasn't sure if he'd ever had the need to since being turned) and he found it...honestly strenuous. Still, he managed to somewhat catch up with her, and it occurred to him that there was no set location for when they would stop. He supposed they would continue on going until one of them got tired. If that were the case, he'd definitely win. And if that meant that Jess would tell him her secret, then so be it.March 11, 2018

jess

There was something euphoric about racing through the park at this time of night, something crazily amazing about the safety she felt tearing through the shadows of darkness with Charlie somewhere nearby, something infinite about the way their laughter echoed through the night and something... that just made her feel bigger than herself hanging in the air as it whistled past her ears. Although the aim was a race, Jess spread her arms out and cackled into the thin lining of trees they threaded through like an obstacle course, Jess shoving at Charlie with her elbow and hands whenever he got close or threatened to overtake her.

Whether he was simply fitter than her or an athlete in a past life, he didn't seem to be deteriorating at the rate that Jess was. Her lungs were starting to burn, her cheeks even more as her skin heated up but the wind was still icy cold. Her leg muscles began to wean and it was then that Jess saw the sun, burning brightly in front of her, right close enough to get a grip. So with the last burst of energy that she had she threw an arm out and reached for it, fingers brushing through golden tendrils before she was able to fasten her fist and pull hard in triumph. With such momentum behind her and her hand in Charlie's jacket, the two went down together like stones in a lake, voices travelling in the shock and thrill.

Thumping hard into the frosty grass, Jess felt herself tumble over his legs and become a heap until she rolled off and splayed herself in the grass next to him like roadkill. Arms out, chest rising and falling as she panted, completely out of breath, she beamed up at the canopy of the trees and any stars that peaked through. She stared and she puffed and she grinned. Then, she twitched her head to the side and looked at Charlie, eyes alight. "I win," She gasped, looking at him fondly, cheeks pink. "But... just for the record... I don't sing... Not to say I can't... but I don't..." She admitted finally through heavy breaths.(edited)March 19, 2018

charlie

It had caught him off guard, though the symbolism was lost on him, and thus, sent him tumbling down as though he were a leaf and not, in actuality, a highly balanced vampire. Laughter erupted within him so strongly it felt as if his skin would split open, and out would come rolling all of his insides. It was good, still, to feel so explosive and yet not destructive. “You…” he said, breathing heavily for show, “are such a cheater!”

He wore a shocked smile on his face, partially amused at her behaviour and partially genuinely surprised (yet, at the same time, not all that surprised once he really thought hard about it all). He gave her a playful shove, letting cold air fill and bite as his lungs as he stared through the trees and into the sky. He had half a mind to begin to describe her the skyline back when he was human, how different and magical it was at night, how he chased small towns and rural villages just to get a tiny semblance of that same feeling back.

Guilt wreaked throughout him once more as he decided against it, knowing so much about her yet not knowing enough at all (though, would he ever?) to share something so colossal. She might never in a million years believe him, or worse, believe him and hate him for it—and though he knew it was selfish, he was content to keep this a secret for as long as he could.

A few moments of silence had passed between them. These weren’t exactly common, but they weren’t out of place, either. It was getting to be 4 in the morning, hell, it felt closer to Charlie, and Charlie had spent so many of his nights wandering—now running, too, apparently—around town with Jess that it was a wonder he hadn’t starved to death yet. “Hey, Jess…” he began, feeling uncharacteristically nervous, at least he had never before felt that way around her, “…I’m glad I met you. Really glad.”

jess

Jess tucked her forearms into her chest, letting out a cackle as Charlie shoved her playfully, despite it having little effect in their harmless horizontal position. She half rolled away from him, as if attempting to avoid the attack much after it had happened before she rolled back and thumped shoulders with him. "Yeah, well, I never said I was a neater," She exclaimed innocently, lifting hands out in front of her in mock surrender before tucking them into her armpits to keep them warm. Rolling her head to the side she looked at Charlie with a grin. "A not-cheater." She then clarified after a beat. After that, she turned her head back to the sky, peering up at the darkness that clouded up behind the thin canopy of the trees. There were still some stars refusing to stand back from the clouds, and Jess smiled at them, glad for their bright presence. For a moment, she counted it special, how many people she'd shared this exact same view with. How many friends of hers she knew she could count on to love and protect her and talk silly stories with her.

Wanting to look at Charlie again, Jess felt a warm feeling spread through her chest as she realized she'd gained a new one. Even if somewhere in the back of her hollow shell, she knew she'd lost some choice others too.Hearing her name suddenly albeit softly, Jess turned her head to look at Charlie in question. Dark eyes running over the length of his profile, his soft cheeks, and his perfectly curved nose, she found herself smiling before he even said anything. The pause was baited with anticipation, her eyes looking at his mouth for no other reason than desperately waiting for the words to come out. A second of panic wondered if he was going to say something to ruin all of this, but then he did the opposite, and Jess felt the collection of starts from the sky that were reflected in her chest explode. She wanted to throw herself at him in an appreciative hug, she wanted to add a new and unnecessary addition to their handshake they could never remember, and in that moment, she wanted to tell him everything she appreciated about him and what he'd done for her so far.

Instead, though, she just began to grin at him, wide and honest. "Me too," She settled lamely, not having the right words to convey everything she wanted to say. Looking back at the sky then, she hesitated, thinking about the few things they'd confessed to each other that night. Chewing on the insides of her lips a little, she was glad they had a view, it gave her the bravery she needed to talk about things she didn't know how to talk about with anyone else. "I have a someone," She began ominously, feeling the curiosity inside herself to ask about what Charlie's someone had been like, before she'd passed away. But she knew it could be a slippery slope into uncharted territory he may not have wanted her to be in, so instead, she opened herself up and let herself bleed a little. "I never really used to believe in that soulmate stuff, I thought it was really stupid because when I was growing up I always struggled with..." How did she even put it? Herself? That felt too small. Everything surrounding who she was as a personal concept? That felt like too much."I don't know, I just struggle with people... and it's not like it's their fault, it's just the way I am. I just... I don't know how to be what people want. It's like I know what they want from me and then I go ahead and do the opposite of that," She gestured up in front of her at nothing, thinking of every time she'd ever gotten uncomfortable about something and backpedaled so fast she'd given the person in return whiplash. "And I can't help it, I don't know how to not do it. It's not even like I do something monumentally wrong either, which I think is worse. At least you can blame someone for that, or for something they did." She was word vomiting now, not sure how to translate what she was thinking about. Or who. It was a cluster combination after all, of all the issues she'd had with her parents, together and apart. With Monday, with Nate. Hell, even with Penny sometimes. She'd made her mark everywhere. "I just," She exhaled, flopping her arms onto the frosty grass beside her and looking at the sky, defeated. "I feel like a failure. And I know that's like, a human being's standard response to everything but I do, I feel like he's going to wake up one day and realize I'm not this awesome thing he's always imagined."

It may have been volatile to mention Jace and her had grown up together then, they'd seen each other through the bad acne and the fashion phases, but she didn't. She just needed this, an unbiased vessel to talk to. She wasn't even sure she needed Charlie to reply at this point, she just needed to get this out of her. "I don't want to be dramatic and say I've spent my whole life disappointing people, but... sometimes it feels that way," She rolled her head to the side finally, looking at Charlie with the most earnest and fearful expression she may have ever given him. "I can't disappoint him too. It would kill me."

charlie

“Neater, neater, pumpkin eater?” He offered, laughing to himself. It was times like this, with something as simple as making up a word, that Charlie really felt like the two were so well-suited to each other. It was exactly the type of thing he would do, and it felt…incredibly validating that someone else existed like him. It was almost to the point where he could predict how she would react, yet at the same time, could not predict it at all. The two of them were predictable in their unpredictability. It was getting colder and colder as the night wore on, but still, he couldn’t help but feel impossibly warm. Maybe that was just the type of effect Jess had on people: the ability to make them feel warm. Was she even aware? Of how impossibly normal he felt around her, and what that meant to him? It wasn’t that Charlie was particularly low in his self-esteem, quite the opposite, but it was rather rare that he found someone who matched him step for step. Jess was special, unique. It was as if, with everyone else, Charlie held his breath in his chest. But with her, he could finally breathe. He would remember their time with the utmost fondness, should it suddenly end, and he would be eternally grateful for the feelings she elicited in him. Things she would never know—couldn’t know—because of the very nature of their friendship. Charlie was a vampire, he had been alive for nearly 200 years, give or take a few, and there were times (though he would be reluctant to admit) that he found himself grow ambivalent to all things. Jess reignited his passion for, well, humanity.

Something changed in the air once his words hit reality. There was an energy to the air, a blending of emotions, releasing between the two of them in a collection of fireworks. She didn’t have to say she agreed, Charlie already knew before the words escaped her mouth. He wanted to tell her he felt it too, strangely, all the desires she had. The need to hug the other, to scream and laugh with an abundance of joy at having found each other. It almost felt like fate that they had met, that the day Charlie decided he would try and make some new friend by sharing his ridiculous opinions, throwing it out into the world and hoping to catch something in his net, was the very same day Jess had rolled in. What a large world it was, and how deeply aware he was of that fact, and yet somehow they had managed to be in the same place at exactly the right time.It is beautiful, isn’t it? He wanted to say, How small we are. How great the world is, so much bigger than us, so much more than we could ever be. And yet, how unbelievably infinite you make me feel. It occurred to him then, in that moment, that Jess had quite literally just caused him to write a poem, albeit a small one, in his mind. How for decades his journal remained untouched but now, suddenly, he was tempted to pick up the pen again. He was so excited about this fact that he nearly missed what she’d said, catching up belatedly, turning around and leaning on his elbow, staring at her face as she stared at the stars. There was a tone to the way she spoke that told Charlie now was not the right time to tease. That she was sharing a feeling she may not have shared with anyone else before or after. His face softened as a result, removing the mask of jokes and ebullience he had grown used to wearing around her. It was difficult to give her advice that she would think to take. Charlie was monumentally older than her, by 150 years and some change, and he had the incredible benefit of hindsight in a way that Jess never could.

“I don’t know about soulmates,” he said, agreeing with her in an honest way. There was a time when he’d thought Gabriele was his soulmate, and when he could no longer be with her, his world had ended. When the year came that he realized she’d most likely have passed on, he became the darkest version of himself.But then he had met Augustus, and for a time, it seemed like everything would change. Slowly but surely he had come to trust him, to rely on him, to…Well, that ended poorly, considering the man had disappeared without a trace, considering the man was who he was. If soulmates existed, he obviously hadn’t found his yet, but still his relationship with both Gabriele and Augustus felt awfully close to something like that. “But I know a thing or two about love,” he said this almost hesitantly, as if he was ready for Jess to remind him he was technically younger than her. “And I think…when it’s right, when it’s a soulmate or something close, you’re loved for all of who you are. Not in spite of those things, but because of them. You’re seen more than you think you are, not just understood but known, almost.” He thought about the way Gabriele seemed to see right through him, know things before he even knew them himself. If she were around today, there was not a doubt in his heart that she would accept the things he had done and love him anyway. And he had done a great deal of harm to others, in ways he was still ashamed of. Then there was Augustus, who had seen him through his days as a literal killer, and though the man was no better than he was in that respect it still managed to mean a great deal to Charlie that he’d stuck around anyway.

Even in the 70s, when things were so awkward and strained, yet not at all, when Charlie had changed into something closer to the man he was today…Augustus still accepted it, regardless of the fact that he’d made passing comments about how he was getting soft.It hurt to hear how she viewed herself. Jess was the type of person that simply exuded confidence without being arrogant, and while he knew through experience that those people often had the most debilitating self-esteem, hearing it out loud when he cared so deeply about her almost stung him. He didn’t know how to give her advice that wasn’t simply placating, so he offered the next best thing: the truth. “I feel like a failure, too,” he said quietly, thinking of all the life-altering mistakes he had made. “I feel like I’ve done so much wrong in my life, I don’t know how I’ll ever escape it. I don’t know that I deserve to, maybe I’m meant to have these things haunt me for the rest of my life,” he said, turning around and leaning back, unable to stare at her any longer as he spoke. He didn’t mind her dramatics, really, knew exactly the feeling she was describing. It was why he tried so hard to be kind to everyone, to forgive others and give them the benefit of the doubt. Because it was what he hoped others could do for him, and maybe that was intrinsically selfish, but do onto others as you would be done onto you was a phrase for a reason, right? He took in a breath, “I once loved someone who greatly disappointed me, who ended up being nothing like I thought they were. It was crushing. But…I think the difference between you and this person is that you’re self aware, and you’re trying to change. You don’t want to be like this, you don’t want to hurt people. You’re figuring things out, hell, you’re figuring yourself out. It’s the age for it, I think. It’s the age where we decide the type of person we want to be, the type of influence we want to have on others. And I think…I think you’re good, you know?”

#a: jess #c: jess #convo: jess2 #chat: the bench

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dreamsofpilots · 7 years ago

Text

Ride or Die

Josh Dun, Blurryface + Spooky Jim fic.

AN: So this one is different than anything I’ve posted before in that, instead of a reader, it’s my own female character. It’s sort of a mafia type of AU. This is the first part of a series. I really enjoyed writing it, so please give it a chance!

Warnings: Gun and gang violence, cursing, sexual content (no smut though)

The sun had already risen high enough to breach over the tall buildings of the city. It glinted off the metal and glass like bright starbursts. The light crept in through the floor to ceiling windows, falling onto their bed, and yet, the two still slept.

The man stirred first, the light finally pushing through his eyelids. He scowled at the sun, how dare it wake him from his dream? It had been about her, the woman next to him, as if everything in their lives were normal. They were happy. He let out a long sigh as he gazed at her, feeling a weight in his chest. The dream wasn’t real.

The woman woke with a groan as the man got up from the bed. She stretched out her limbs to where he once laid, trying desperately to sap whatever warmth remained. Rubbing her eyes of sleep, she watched as he sauntered over to the windows, his skin completely bare and creamy, not a tattoo or scar in sight. So different from what she was used to. She admired the shape of him, his strong legs and bum, his broad shoulders and muscular arms. The sunlight lit up his soft brown curls, making them look almost orange.

She sighed, loving the view, and he turned at the noise, glancing away from the penthouse windows.

“Morning kitten.” he smiled, his voice deep and gravelly from sleep. She blushed at the name, reminded of it’s use last night, before silently cursing herself for getting so flustered. She was stronger than that. He was her toy, not the other way around.

Donning her mask of confidence once again, she slipped from the sheets, letting her hips sway more than usual as he admired her naked from. “Good morning Josh,” she said with a toss of her long brunette hair. His lips quivered, clearly amused by her sudden change of character. He cleared his throat and held his arms open, silently asking her to come to him. She tilted her head considering, her expression bored.

“Come on, Veronica.” he urged. Her hazel eyes flicked to his, stubbornly refusing.

“V?” he offered again, taking a step forward. She clicked her tongue and rolled her eyes, but eventually complied, allowing him to encircle her in his arms. Josh kissed her forehead gently as she reluctantly basked in his warmth. He gave her more kisses across her face, trying to tempt her to relax into his touch.

Giving in, she ran her hands along his back relishing the softness, and admired the way his freckles dotted his shoulders. She kissed one of the little constellations, pulling a chuckle from Josh. He leant down to kiss Veronica’s lips, but she slipped away before he could, toying with him.

He laughed again, “This is why I call you kitten.” She snorted, refusing to allow the blush to creep into her cheeks again at the name. “I’m going to take a shower,” she said, glancing over her shoulder, her voice as smooth as honey, “you in?”

Josh bit his lip and she smirked, crooking a finger to beckon him to her. He came without the stubbornness that she had shown him. The two giggled, sprinting into the shower, before continuing the escapades from last night.

As Veronica dressed in her clothes from the night before, Josh studied her from where he sat on the bed. He watched as her black dress slid over her skin, caressing every curve. Veronica glanced up from slipping her knife into her boot, and Josh shook his head, trying to clear it of the thoughts of what he wanted to do to her.

When he looked at her again, his brow furrowed, noticing her sliding into her shoulder holster, checking her weapon before tucking it into it. “I wish you didn’t do that kind of work.” Josh mumbled, turning his gaze away to focus on knotting his tie.

Veronica threw on her jacket, hiding her heat before slinking over to him. “We can’t all be big corporate execs Joshie.” she said, placing her hands on his thighs, leaning into him, and nipping at his nose ring.

“Some would argue that being the leader of the largest gang in the city is similar.” Josh stood, but Veronica didn’t step back, her breath ghosting against his lips. “Perhaps you could consider a career change?”

She scoffed and stepped away. “At my age? Don’t be silly Josh.”

“You’re 25.”

“And I’m still fighting every day to keep my place,” her voice rose as she rounded on him. “I can’t start over Josh. People won’t take me seriously because of my age. I can’t go back to being less than what I’ve made myself. And certainly not for some cushy job with benefits.”

Josh stood his ground, used to her outbursts, sticking his hands into his pockets. “I just don’t want you to do something that you might regret.” His voice was low and even, trying to get his meaning across without riling up Veronica again.

She sighed, taking him in as he stood there all tall and elegant in his suit. His dark hair styled neatly, his jaw freshly shaved, his nose ring and gages the only thing giving away his little rebellious streak. “Oh, Joshie,” she huffed stepping forward as she placed a hand against his cheek. “I’m afraid I already have a red right hand.”

With that, she stepped away, gathering her things in silence. Josh watched her for a moment before crossing to her and gently placing a hand on hers, stopping her frantic movements. “You can keep some of those things here,” he offered, trying to add a comforting tone to his voice.

“Josh, I’ve told you not to get attached. You know that whatever it is that we are, it isn’t serious. I have others.” Veronica looked up at him, daring him to say otherwise.

He cupped her face in his hands and she stiffened, but he didn’t let go. “I know, and I’m not, I just figured that I would offer.” For a moment, he thought that he saw her hard gaze soften, but it was gone in an instant and he assumed that he imagined it. Veronica always kept her real thoughts hidden, especially from him.

“I need to go,” she shook herself free, and placed the remaining things in her bag before throwing it over her shoulder.

“Will I see you tonight?” Josh asked.

Her hand hovered over the elevator button, “No. I have a big job tonight.”

“Oh?”

Veronica gave Josh her most dazzling smile before stepping into the elevator. “There’s going to be a robbery.” She blew him a kiss and the doors closed, leaving Josh to stare at them, a part of him missing her already.

When she reached her matte black Maserati in the parking garage, she synced her phone and called Mark. He answered right away.

“How are the plans for tonight?” she asked, pulling out of the garage.

“Everything is all set, the shipment should be arriving on time and our men have been given their orders.”

“And the police?”

Mark chuckled, “Paid off, like usual. Most of them will be away from the docks when the shipment arrives, and the ones that are on duty will be turning the other cheek.”

“Good. I want everything to go off without a hitch tonight.”

“I don’t foresee any problems.” Mark said, his tone almost as cocky as hers.

“Wonderful. I’ll check in later.” She hung up on him then, her car continuing to fly through the streets. She had other business to attend to.

A cop that Veronica sped past threw on his lights for a moment, before realizing who she was and turned them off again, not moving from his position. She laughed, looking at him through her rear view. It was almost too easy. Veronica smirked, she loved having this city in her pocket.

“Please don’t do this.” the man pleaded on his knees. Veronica wrinkled her nose at the sight. Didn’t anyone have pride anymore?

“You knew what the consequences would be if you couldn’t deliver.” She checked her eyeliner in her compact mirror, smiling at her reflection. The wings of her eyeliner were almost as sharp as her attitude. Just the way she liked it.

“I can get more, it’s just because of the storm, some of the supply was lost.” the man groveled.

She sighed, pulling her gun on him. The man recoiled as if he had already been shot. “I don’t want your excuses, I want my goods. I pay you good money, so I expect you to deliver. Is that so unreasonable?” He shook his head, tears forming in his eyes.

Veronica stared him down over the barrel of her gun, watching as he sweat and squirmed under her gaze. She didn’t want to kill him. Killing was so messy. Besides, she hated the way it made her feel, as if a bit of her humanity was taken away with each bullet. “When can you get the rest here by?”

“T-two days. I can get it here in two days.” the man stuttered, eyes wide with shock.

After a few more seconds of tense silence, Veronica returned her gun to it’s holster, the shoulders of everyone in the room visibly relaxing. “Two days then.” She swept from the room, her goons following her. The man sobbed with relief as she left him behind.

When she made it out of the shop, her phone buzzed in her jacket pocket. “What.” she answered, her tone harsh. Her mood had soured.

Mark’s voice shook a little as he answered. “We have a problem…”

“Why the fuck am I just finding out about this now?!” Veronica shouted. She had arrived back at her gang’s headquarters, a mansion on the outskirts of the city. The home that she had built for herself.

Mark hurried along beside her, Michael and Brad not far behind. “The shipment arrived early. None of us knew it was happening until it was almost over. By then it was too late to retaliate.” he said.

“What the hell was surveillance doing?” Her heels clicked on the marble, each step punctuating her words.

Brad spoke up as head of surveillance, “Our men at the scene were restrained, and our cameras went down.”

Veronica let out a frustrated growl, throwing open the doors of the A/V room. Brad rushed over to one of the computers in the room, quickly tapping away. Veronica glared at her other men and women in the room. This was their fault. They shrunk away from her gaze and tried to continue their jobs.

“We did manage to get some cameras back up as the perpetrators made their escape. I was able to capture some footage.” Brad went on.

“Show me.” she demanded, stepping behind him at his computer.

Brad pulled up a clip, the quality was bad and it was hard to make out anything. Whoever had messed with their gear had done a magnificent job. Veronica furrowed her brow in annoyance.

As she watched, she saw men dressed in black, at the docks, loading crates onto an unmarked truck. Her annoyance grew when she noticed their black ski masks, unable to make out any faces. Some of her own men rushed out to the thieves, pulling their guns. There was a struggle and some gunshots before her men were beaten out. Veronica clenched her fists as she watched, anger rushing through her veins.

Then, from behind the vehicle, emerged two men, clearly the leaders of the group. The first one was dressed completely in white, the sleeves of his shirt cut off. He donned a neon green alien mask, completely obscuring his face from view. A colorful tattoo crawled up his right arm, but the video was too blurry for Veronica to make out what it was.

The second figure was dressed in a black tank top, exposing the thick black lines that were tattooed on his left arm. He had some sort of black paint on his hands and throat, his face exposed but unclear. Veronica thought she saw a flash of red in his eyes, but quickly dismissed it, assuming she was mistaken.

The men in the video finished loading the crates on the truck and began to pile into it. The figure in white joined them, but the one wearing the paint hung back, approaching one of Veronica’s downed men. He tucked something into the man’s jacket, then turned and looked directly at the camera. Veronica’s men standing beside her jumped upon seeing that, but she stood firm.

As the man continued to stare down the camera, he slowly lifted an arm, pointing an object at it. Suddenly the image blurred completely before going to black. The last thing Veronica saw was a flash of red again in the man’s eyes.

They stood quietly, eyes still glued to the black screen. No one dared to move or speak before Veronica did, all collectively holding their breath. “What did he tuck into our man’s jacket?” she asked quietly.

Michael handed her a yellow folded up piece of paper, which she quickly unfolded and read.

What’s yours is mine.

-Blurryface

“What is this, Gotham?” Veronica scoffed, handing the paper back to Michael. “Masks, makeup, villain names, this has to be some sort of joke.”

No one around her dared to move or speak. “Breathe.” she told them, and they visibly relaxed, now knowing that she wasn’t going to blow up in anger.

“Did we see where they went?” she asked.

Mark stepped forward, “Unfortunately, we lost track of them. He seems to have some sort of instrument that messes up our cameras.”

That explained his actions at the end of the video.

“Do we know anything about this, Blurryface?”

Brad tapped away at his computer, pulling up some intel before scratching at his beard in thought. “He’s done some small crime here and there, but nothing in our territory before, and nothing big enough to warrant him to be on our radar.”

“What about his partner, the alien one?”

Michael stepped forward this time. “One of my men that returned from the docks said that this Blurryface character kept referring to him as Spooky Jim.”

Veronica scoffed, pinching the bridge of her nose. She felt a headache coming on. “See if you can get any prints off of that note. Have our insiders at the police department run it against their records. I want men out looking for these two, for any information we can gather.” She began walking away, leaving her men to do their work.

She stopped in the doorway, turning on her heel to face the room. Everyone froze, eyes wide. “And Mark?” she asked sweetly. He looked up at her, his face more composed than the others. “Find those crates. I want my guns.”

When Veronica exited the room, she headed towards the garage, pulling out her phone. It was late, but she didn’t care, she needed a distraction. Veronica sifted through her contacts before her eyes fell on Josh’s name. After a moment of contemplation, she pressed his name and brought the phone to her ear.

“V?” he answered almost immediately. Butterflies fluttered briefly in her stomach upon hearing his voice, but she forced herself to digest them. Emotions were a waste of time.

“I’m coming over.”

Part 2 Part 3

#josh dun #original female character #blurryface #spooky jim #twenty one pilots #twenty øne piløts #fanfic #gangs #tyler joseph #tøp #tøp fic #joshua dun #tyjo

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mountphoenixrp · 7 years ago

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We have a new citizen in Mount Phoenix:

Vivienne Seo, who is known by no other name; a 21 year old daughter of Cizin. She is a tattoo artist at Taste of Ink.

FC NAME/GROUP: Park Sooyoung ( Joy ) / Red Velvet CHARACTER NAME: Vivienne Seo AGE/DATE OF BIRTH: 21 / November 13 1996 PLACE OF BIRTH: Los Angeles, California OCCUPATION: Tattoo Artist @ Taste of Ink HEIGHT: 167cm (5’6”) WEIGHT: 43kg (94lbs) DEFINING FEATURES: Being a tattoo artist, Vivi’s body is filled with various tattoos she’s gotten over the span of her life. Feeling as if her body is a canvas for expression, the girl has 12 tattoos placed sporadically on her person.

She has the Scorpius constellation tattooed on the inside of her left arm (x),

A rose along the side of her middle finger on her right hand (x),

She has two moths on the backside of her right and left thighs (x),

"Baby girl” tattooed on the back of her neck (x),

A rose on her right knee (x),

A skull with “fuck luck” written beneath it on her right shoulder (x)

A heart on her left shoulder blade (x)

“Death can wait” on her right thigh (x)

A large red dragon going down her back (x)

Has an exclamation mark on the side of her left middle finger (x)

Has the face of a black cat on the outside of her left arm (x)

PERSONALITY: mbti: enfp-t alignment: chaotic evil

( Troubled.)

There is something menacing which lingers within the depths of a girls soul.

( Deadly.)

It is something off-putting━sinister━ in the way Vivienne goes about life with a glint of mischief illuminating her gaze. Something menacing in the way the girl smiles, as she looks to life as if it were all simply just a game. Deep down, the demigoddess finds herself conflicted within the heart of a sadist as her soul grows dark behind a childish front she puts on for the world to see. Consumed by evil, it is a light-hearted aura which surrounds her. Something that rests precariously on the edge of danger and chance which fools those who dare to allow her into their lives.

Longing to find a place where she belongs, has given her a quixotic exterior. A lowlife of sorts, she has grown out of the demure, quiet and shy person she used to be. Catalysts. Falling into an abyss of depravity. Changing to be carefree, outgoing and overly defiant. Yet, it’s the way she invites herself into the lives of many strangers and interesting people that seems to be her most bothersome trait. Constantly, her weaving in and out of certain social circles have her winding up in trouble—but, in the fun-loving, and the childish way she portrays herself, that leaves of a mess of chaos to follow in her wake. A havoc that she finds herself most comfortable in. Amused by.

With Vivienne, never truly being thought to deal with other people or feelings in a mature manner, such neglect to healthy personal relations has left her to become the monster that she is today. This fact leaving her feeling troubled, angry, and insecure. As the question of self-worth and people’s true intentions eat at her, constantly, causing her to push people away, with her facade of brutal truths and cold expressions once they’ve gotten too close. Stepped upon territory she simply doesn’t feel like visiting due to overwhelming trauma that lie beneath the surface of her dirtbag lifestyle. Furthermore, these insecurities often lead her to temperamental behavior and a rebellious attitude. With so many feelings of her own━ and only being taught how to handle her emotions with violence━ Vivi looks to ways to channel her feelings into both destructive and self-destructive tendencies. Having become numb to the feelings of pain after all her years of abuse, the girl has turned to her ability in order to bring her comfort. As she now finds great pleasure in the pain of others, rather than herself.

Sadistic.

It has only become just another coping mechanisms into that of her tragic life.

HISTORY:

✰ * º ❛ 𝔤𝔦𝔯𝔩 𝔪𝔢𝔢𝔱𝔰 𝔢𝔳𝔦𝔩 …

W A R N I N G : this character’s bio contains potentially triggering reference toPHYSICAL ABUSE, VERBAL ABUSE, BULLYING, CHILD NEGLECT, EATING DISORDER MENTION,MURDER, RAPE & TRAUMA.

i. b e g i n .

Vivienne Seo had not always had ( m a l e v o l e n c e ) etched deep within her bones, nor had she always looked upon the world as if it were challenging her to a brawl. The funny thing is, all sharp things were once soft. All crazy born from a speck of innocence. And, funny thing is, a long time ago Vivienne had once been a child.

A girl made of tragedies–a tale of scraped knuckles and bloody lips.

At the beginning, as in most stories, there was a mama.

It had been her mother who gave Vivienne durability and stamina the way a reckless child teaches it’s dolls anonymity: by wearing out their features with sweaty palms and misuse. handling a girl with anything but ease.

Her first memory is not visual but a f e e l i n g.

A feeling she remembers vividly — every red-stained night, every bruise.

She remembers everything.

Born as a soft girl, full of hope and light; her voice a running stream of gentle pauses and ellipses, thoughtful lapses between tongue and word. Soft eyes, soft hands. She was a delicate thing.

It’s only the beginning of her corruption.

ii. b l o o d , s w e a t , & t e a r s .

Pain. Hurt. Anger.

Everything that comes after is marked by that same awful sensation.

She feels it all, whether she wants to or not. The abuse is constant and heedless, without reason or catalyst. Blow after blow, she is given no mercy.

“Cizin,” she hears her mama mutter in her times alone, “he’s watching…”

Vivienne’s existence seemed to be an impetus for her mother’s rage, and the dark liquors left out on the counters gasoline for the woman’s anger. Fuel that turned her cruel, malignant. The woman cries out about the man she had loved, her daughter’s father. A man that the young girl knows nothing about. In the late hours of the night her mother screams and yells out in horrible curses. Screams about her father.

Cizin.

The sting of flesh to flesh contact makes her eyes tear and the female can’t help but take notice of how every strike is coupled with that name. Again and again. She hates it–she hates him–and, she hates that name.

( It’s their fault. )

On the days she had only bruises and was spared new wounds, there was nothing at all for her from the woman left as her caretaker – at times her mother was left as a pile of half-rotted meat and bone passed out on the couch or the floor. Other days she simply was not there at all. Leaving a young Vivienne to fend for herself, for days at a time.

She wonders what she has done to deserve this.

iii. s t i g m a .

She’s turning double digits now and her school life is just as cruel as the one she knows at home. Her clothes smell and her hair is greasy. The kids at school don’t understand the struggle she goes through. She’s the butt of her classes jokes and pranks. Isolated from their social circles. Boys pull at her hair and girls corner her in the bathroom, snickering cruel words about her as if she weren’t even there.

No matter where she goes, a personal hell is awaiting her very presence.

iv. l i e .

However, it is the summer before high school that things take a turn—the girl blossoms into something beautiful. Like the diamond, she had always been meant to be. She is no longer ridiculed and instead, boys begin to take interest with large heart eyes and girls fawn over her, wishing they were her. Despite maintaining her same personality and the things that made her so different — quirky, unlikable—instiontaniously those things no longer seem to matter. Keeping to herself, withdrawn from all her years of not fitting in, people now flock her way in an attempt at friendship.In an attempt to make amends.

Naive, she had always sought a place to belong. To build the friendships she had only been lucky enough to witness.Clueless. She accepts everyone which waves her way. Not aware of teenage jealousy, pettiness, and drama which was quick to follow with everyone she lets sliver into her life. It is there, in freshman year that she is swallowed into a group of pink plastic girls who swear by the purity of friendship bracelets. Swear, that they have Vivienne’s best interest at heart. A group of girls that quickly convince the demigoddess that the only way to be beautiful—to be liked by anyone, is to stick her two pretty fingers down her throat to binge and starve in the pursuit of beauty, popularity, love.

She does as her circle of girlish ghouls tell her, and Vivienne is easily manipulated in their hands.

It the most toxic of friendships. But it is all the girl has.

For once in her life, she is popular. Happy.

Most importantly, The torture she faces at home, for once, can be forgotten during her facade of happiness. The lie she acts out amoung her peers.

Flying high with goals that reached farther than the sky, she swears finally, she can feel the warmth of the sun kiss her cheeks. She feels the heat of splendor illuminate her skin. It burns, but its worth it. Glowing, she is lovely, slivers of light barley slipping past her fingers. But, like eveything else, there is a price to pay. However, she doesn’t care. She’s hopeful. Hopeful that life can get better. That life can be more than what her mother had convinced her it was limited to.

It was the blind optimism of youth at its finest. Silly girl, didn’t she know that reality left no happiness untampered? No love untouched?

It’s only the beginning of her fall.

v. f i r s t l o v e .

Her tragedy begins in the winter break of her junior year; a love story went wrong.

She is swept away by the sweet words of an upperclassmen; smitten by the sweet nothings whispered in her ear as he catches her in their high school courtyard. Innocent.Pure. She swoons over the idea of him, the most beautiful boy she had ever seen. With his dark hair and people flocking to him like butterflies to a flower—the boy who saw her in all her plainness, still dared to leave his hoards to stroll towards her.

Just like that, she was hooked.

Teenage romance, she never expected something so sweet to turn so sour when her short love story came to an end. Her prince charming is quickly turned into something straight out of a nightmare during one of her friend’s Christmas parties. There is not much the girl can recall from a crazy night filled with bright lights, sweat and heavy aromas—the smell of alcohol and stranger’s perfume. But, she remembers the carefree feelings which had been coursing through her own system and the sense of intoxication which tainted her own ability to think. Craving yet just another dance. Sadly, it is all sent to a halt as a familiar face coaxes her into an unfamiliar room. A boy in which she trusts, who tells her she needs to sleep. Her protests are hushed by the hand of her handsome prince. Vivienne almost swears he must be a stranger as he merely gives her a reassuring smile. Honey sweet, it leaves a layer of discomfort along her skin as his hand begins to trail along her body. She can only cry out in confusion and fright, yet it is the beats of loud music which drown out her voice. When she wakes up, she can’t recall what had happened the night before.

Vivienne goes the rest of Christmas break, confused and brushing aside a feeling, or maybe a memory that doesn’t seem to fit. Something she can’t seem to come to terms with. Yet, when school comes back, it is a hell which is waiting for her. Instead of being greeted by a flock of friends, she is isolated from her peers as they whisper behind her back. Vivienne is left clueless, as she comes to find crude remarks scribbled across her desk. But, it only gets worse when the boy she thinks she loves begins to boast about that devastating night.

she goes.

vi. a w a k e .

empty.

She is simply a broken, less shiny version of her past self, as once again in her life she is left to be the outcast. Without guidance, she is determined to release herself from the shadows of her previous self. She begins to coil downward—too close to the sun she’d gotten, only to be betrayed by a pair of faulty wings and the fire that punished all those who were met with shame.

But soon enough, Vivienne finds a way to get back at the brutal world she’s grown up in. Her powers begin to blossom within her very being. Evil creeps it’s way into the deepest crevasses of her heart.

a monster is slowly being born.

Without any remorse, she starts to torment those who have hurt her. Finds a way to torture them in their safest place. Their mind. She makes them suffer similarly to the way they made her. She gets back at them. She gets even. Truth be told, Vivienne goes beyond that as it becomes almost a hobby.

Hurting others.

Finally, it isn’t her who’s in pain. It’s not her who is trembling with fear. For once in her life, she’s in control. It is something she takes great joy in.But there is still one person she can’t seem to bet back at. mama.

Afraid of her mother and the loud voice and heavy hands which was affiliated with the term of “mom”, Vivienne can’t bring herself to defy the woman.

The pain that was once unbearable, she eventually becomes accustomed to. Numb, she can’t feel it anymore.After finding out about the girl’s abilities, her mother begins to force her daughter to listen to the tales of her not-so-present father’s betrayal.

A deadbeat she calls him.

𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕥𝕙𝕝𝕖𝕤𝕤 she spits in her face.

The girl’s mother’s paranoia consumes her into an abyss of self-destruction, and by the time Vivienne reaches senior year, the abuse has gone far worse than it had ever been before.

all she wants is to be free…

iv. m a m a .

The girl had done everything in her power to avoid harsher punishments than she had already received on a daily basis.

Yet, this day was different.

Most people say curiosity killed the cat, but it was just that, which had set little Vivienne free.

Or rather, an altercation, a terrified scream, and a knife held within the girl’s hands. Murder. She’s finally gotten back at the person who’s hurt her the most. Watching her mother wither in pain makes something sinister bubble within the pit of her stomach. Something of happiness? No. Something like guilt runs through her veins as her mother’s lifeless body lays before her. The world comes to a stop. Life as she knows it is suddenly destroyed.

Suddenly she was no longer held captive.

Now, she was a murderer—a 𝓂𝑜𝓃𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇 in her own eyes.

It’s awful, she knows It is. As the mix-matched emotions come from the very own depths of her own heart to consume her in nothing but a conflicted disaster.

Freedom coursed through her veins–it was a sensation she refused to let go.

run,

run

ａｗａｙ.

v. l o s t .

Her life is a mess after her mother’s death. Place to place, a girl wanders in search of a somewhere she belongs. Chaos followers her with every step she takes. She continues to try and recreate the same feelings she’d been dealt at the time of her mother’s murder. Killing after Killing. Torture after torture. Vivienne seeks the pain of others as she no longer is able to feel such sensation anymore. Sadistic. She deals with her past burdens in her own turbulent ways.

like her mother… no, worse than her mother.

Mount Phoniex does not come easily to her and in fact, it takes about three years on her own and a whisper from the grapevine in order for her to actually hear about the safe haven.

Home sweet home.

Vivienne has finally found a place to call her own.

Suddenly she isn’t just an abundance of supernovas, or a nebula waiting to explode.

No, she is already past that. Something dark, and wicked consumes her in the shadows of a bubbly personality.

ғ ʀ ᴇ ᴇ a t l a s t.

She is no longer battered by venomous words or heavy fist.

(careful, memories carve in deep.)

PANTHEON: Mayan CHILD OF: Cizin, God of Death POWERS: ( 💀 ) ━━━ torment inducement : in this ability, the girl is capable of tricking the mind into believing it is in immense physical pain or suffering from tremendous mental and emotional torture. Causing intense illusions which may appear to be frightening. Or, induce traumatic thoughts ━ memories ━ from one’s past and present in a form of psychological torture. Depending on the level of concentration, this ability is able to range to all degrees of intensity, from mild to unbearable. However, this power has no effect on a person’s body physically, and it is typically used in a form of illusions.

( 💀 ) ━━━ earthquake generation : through this power Vivienne is capable of making earthquakes within that of a small scale. Though only having recently found out about this ability, the female doesn’t have control to summon the small quakes at will. And, rather; the ability has almost a mind of its own, coming to the forefront when overcome with intense negative emotions.

( 💀 ) ━━━ decaying smell accompaniment : As a child, the smell of decaying flesh seemed to follow the Vivienne everywhere. Doing her best to hide such a horrendous smell with that of flowery soaps and vanilla perfumes. Though, as she grew older, the smell seemed to have gone away. Vanished from her existence, unless when using any of her other abilities. Particularly when using her gift of, torment inducement, the smell of decaying bodies is at it’s strongest. Only making her rath that much more terrifying.

STRENGTHS: creative, light-hearted, friendly, fun-loving WEAKNESSES: stubborn, impulsive, mischievous, jealous, childish, reckless, sadistic, self-conscious, destructive

#kpop rp #krp #red velvet #park sooyoung #red velvet joy #mp; welcome

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