#sorry good fucking god im so overwhelmed by how much i fucking love my chemical romacne oh myyy goodnes

[flugame-mp3]

DO NOT listen to the jetset life is gonna kill you and the ghost of you and i never told you what i do for a living and you know what just DO NOT LISTEN TO REVENGE. WHEN YOURE HIGH. oh my god i am having a BEAUTIFUL otherwolrdly expereince iright now oh my god ray toro guitar work so good it made a grown man CRY AND SOB IN HIS BED AT 4:00 AM WHY DO ES THEIS BAND FUCKINGGGG SOUND LIKE THATTTTTT OHHHH MY GODDD CHRIST IN HEAVENNN

[memeontauhnhw]

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protonmail/645372

[mindfulwrath]

Silver, Part VII

Celebrity crushes really never turn out the way you think they will.

Words: 3,882 Warnings: Blood/gore, excessive swearing

Part I Part VI

Hyde couldn't believe it, but he'd finally, finally made it to Blackfog. Oh, it had taken days, an unbelievable amount of nagging and niggling and finagling, and there had been ever so many detours (some of them exceptionally pleasant), but he was here.

And it was everything he could possibly have hoped for.

The bazaar spanned several blocks, tented under colored silks flung over laundry lines. The air was a clamor of voices, glowing mists and brilliant lights, shadows black and velvet. A thousand different smells pervaded the space, wafting up above the rooftops with the fog. Everything glittered and gleamed, green and gold and silver and red. He could taste the place, like curry and sea salt, could feel its electric tingle in the air. The press of people was incredible���it seemed like every miscreant and vagabond in London had turned up, every monster and madman had crawled out of their sewers and down from their towers to join in the crushing tide of life. The opportunists of the London underworld had come out in full force, too—pickpockets, beggars, prostitutes and hawkers all dotted the crowd and gathered in the corners, shouting and sneaking and selling their little hearts out.

Jasper was clinging to his arm for dear life, and that was all right, too. He'd gotten rather quiet after their tete-a-tete—probably impressed, far too overawed for words—

Dear God, you're up yourself, Jekyll remarked.

—far too overawed for words, and additionally in a state of such overwhelming bliss that words had been unnecessary. But Hyde's energy had been unflagging, manic, to the point that holding still was torture, and there was still so much night left, and if Jekyll was going to go about drinking poison and writing wills, Hyde was damn well going to milk every second for all it was worth.

"Oooooh, look look look!" he cooed, dragging Jasper over to a lime-green stand filled with glimmering bottles in a thousand different hues. "Now that's quality herbalism, that is. You fiddle about with potions, don't you?"

"I—I do," said Jasper. He leaned over Hyde's shoulder, peering at the bottles. He looked up at the salesman, who was half-shrouded in shadow. "You wouldn't . . . happen to have any wolfsbane potion, would you?"

"Wolfsbane?" said the salesman, in a thick accent that Hyde couldn't place. "Yes, yes, we have."

"Oh! Er . . . how much?" Jasper hazarded.

Hyde was about to scold him for being a total rube when something shinier caught his eye, and quick as thinking he was off, dodging through the crowd.

Do not leave him alone here, Jekyll scolded, frowning at him from a puddle on the ground. Hyde stepped on his face. I mean it.

"Or what?" Hyde muttered under his breath.

Or he'll get hurt! For God's sake, at least pretend to have an ounce of compassion.

"Like you care," said Hyde, rolling his eyes. He pushed out of the press of the crowd and grabbed a handy post to keep from being dragged away. It was really inconvenient, being short. He might have to take to the rooftops. All this getting elbowed in the head was starting to annoy him.

Hyde. . . .

"So what's all this shiny business?" Hyde asked the stallkeeper, gesturing to the glittering assortment of gems and filigree wires laid out on velvet cushions.

Hyde.

"Ah, a discerning eye, sir," said the stallkeeper, with a what-a-sucker glimmer in her eye. "These stones are imbued with incredible powers, beyond all imagining! This one—"

Hyde!

"Funny, 'cause they look like cheap shite to me," Hyde quipped, and darted back into the crowd. He found Jasper huddling against a wall near the potion stand with his metaphorical tail between his legs. He nearly went up the wall when Hyde caught him by the arm.

"There you are," Hyde said, rolling his eyes. "Gotta keep up, Jazz, don't want you gettin' et up."

"Right," said Jasper, leaning on him. "Right, yeah, right. Sorry. Look, I—I really should be getting back, I didn't have enough for the wolfsbane and—"

"Oooo, I've only heard about those!" Hyde said, off again after a particularly eye-catching assortment of luminiferous wights. He kept a firm grip on Jasper, if for no other reason than to keep Jekyll quiet. He fluttered from stall to stall, directionless and erratic but endlessly delighted. He towed Jasper along with him, finding him an excellent sounding board to prove how bloody brilliant Hyde was, all that stuffy knowledge Jekyll had amassed finally coming in handy. Jasper seemed suitably impressed, and after a while even started to look like he was enjoying himself. An awful lot of money was spent, but it was worth every penny—there were salts and reagents, daggers and dirks, disgusting (but delicious) meat pies, more drinks for the both of them, vicious chemicals and sparkling trinkets and a book so musty and old and ugly that Jekyll nearly fainted clean out of Hyde's head when he saw it.

They bought that one, too. It was boring and idiotic, but if there was one talent Jekyll had, it was taking boring, idiotic, dull-as-dirt science and turning it into. . . .

Well, Hyde, for one.

He was just beginning to feel like heading in a vaguely homeward direction when his eye caught on the single most incredible sight yet. The noise that came out of his mouth was inhuman. He grabbed Jasper by both arms, hauled him into an alleyway, and pinned him to the wall.

"Did you see?" he squeaked. "Did you see? That was her! That was her, that was Lucy!"

"What—who?" Jasper said, looking a little stunned. He might possibly have hit his head on the wall in all the excitement (not Hyde's fault).

"Lucy! Lucy of the Forty Elephants, Lucy the—look, just stay here, don't get into any trouble, I'll be back, don't follow me!"

"Why—"

"You'll make me look too good!" Hyde called, even as he bounded back into the crowd.

It was impossible to carry off a proper swagger in the press of people, but the good news was, he did manage to keep Lucy in sight. It took him a good five minutes to work his way over to her. Perhaps by sheer force of presence, she had cleared the area around her. Hyde slipped up next to her and leaned a hand on the stall she was currently perusing. He gave her his worst smile and tipped his hat.

"Evenin', miss," he said.

She spared him a single withering glance. Hyde almost passed out.

"Go away, boy," she said.

"Boy?" he cried. "Boy?! I'm a fully-grown man, thank you very much!"

"Fully?" said Lucy, arching an eyebrow. "My, how disappointing for you."

Hyde's ears were burning. Somewhere in the back of his head, Jekyll was laughing.

"Being of a slender persuasion tends to be 'elpful when gettin' places a person ain't meant to get into," Hyde said. "By the by, massive fan of your work."

"I doubt you're a massive anything," Lucy said, a smile tugging at her lips. She did turn towards him, though, and her attention spilled onto him like sunlight. He preened.

"Only a massive pain in the arse, Miss Lucy," he said, tipping his hat. He could not have stopped grinning for love nor money. There was a constant sound inside his head like a kettle boiling over, a piercing whistle of unbelievable excitement. "Particularly to those of a more moneyed inclination."

"Is that so," said Lucy, folding her arms. He had her full attention now, the stallkeeper forgotten. Another woman had precipitated out of the crowd, hanging near Lucy's elbow—she had the look of a career thief about her, doubtless one of the Forty Elephants.

"It is so," said Hyde. His heart was going to beat right out of his chest. His blood was electric. "One might say I've taken some inspiration from a certain lady thief."

"In what way?" Lucy asked, amused.

"Might've 'eard tell of a few of your daring exploits with the peelers," Hyde said, examining his fingernails. "Might've similarly dropped a caber on Mad Moreau. 'Eard of 'im? Yeah, 'e never stood a chance against the likes of me."

"Moreau, the vivisectionist?" Lucy inquired.

"One an' the same, dear lady," Hyde said, grinning ear to ear. "Up in a blaze of glory not two nights ago, thanks entirely to yours truly. With inspiration coming from you, of course."

"Ah," said Lucy, with a twinkle in her eye. "So you're the fucker who burnt down half our best revenue."

Hyde's smile locked in place. His eyes got very wide. He suddenly noticed no fewer than four women in the immediate vicinity all giving him very unfriendly looks.

Start running now, Jekyll suggested.

"Lllllllladies," Hyde said, tipping his hat.

The first leap took him onto the shoulders of the man to his left. The second launched him up into the laundry lines. They snapped instantly under his weight. He came crashing back down in a tangle of silks. Someone shrieked. The crowd swarmed in confusion. Hyde scrambled out from under the tangle. He ducked through the forest of legs, on his hands and knees. Lucy shouted something out. Hyde clambered to his feet and dove into the nearest alley. He bounced up the walls to the roofs. Hobnails clattered on brick behind him. He took off at a full sprint.

Quick question, Jekyll said. Do you ever think about the things coming out of your mouth, or do you just prop your teeth open and hope?

"You—are not—helping!" Hyde panted. He risked a glance back. Lucy and six others were hot on his tail. "Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!"

Whatever you do, don't go back to the Society or the house. I get the feeling fire might become involved.

"Then where—am I—supposed—to go—you prig?"

He leapt across an alley and lost his footing on the shingles opposite. He scrabbled at the slanted roof like a dog on hardwood. He tumbled off the side. He plummeted, screaming. Several things smashed upon impact. Hyde got up and kept running. There was an awful lot of pain, and possibly splinters. Shouts followed him, then a screech of metal on stone. He did not look back. He just ran. He tore around a corner, bounced off the building, and nearly cannoned headfirst into a brick wall.

Dead end.

Perhaps literally.

Hyde flattened himself against the wall in a panic. There was nowhere to go. Nothing to leap off of, the alley cluttered with laundry lines, he'd be caught like a fly in a spider's web, he was stuck, he was fucked—

Lucy and the others spilled around the corner into the end of the alleyway. Weapons flashed in the half light. Like lions, they went for him, fluid in their ferocity. There was a horrible screeching noise from overhead, a snapping and cracking.

Jasper dropped into the alleyway, snarling and monstrous, directly between Hyde and the Elephants. Broken laundry lines fell all around him. Teeth gleamed white in the darkness, claws glittered beetle-black. Hellfire glowed from his eyes. Five crossbows leveled at his chest.

For a moment, all was stillness.

"No," Lucy said. She put a hand on the nearest Elephant's crossbow, lowering it. Her eyes stayed fixed on Jasper. "It's not worth getting bit. Another time, ladies, another time."

One by one, the crossbows lowered. Jasper stayed where he was, growling, bristled and hunched. The Elephants backed away slowly. Lucy was the last to go.

"But I'll be back, you little fuck," she spat. Her arm snapped up. There was a silken sound.

Pain exploded through Hyde's arm. The world whited out for a second. He screamed. Jasper snarled and leapt forward. Hobnails clattered on cobble. Hyde clutched at the wall behind him, kicking his feet as though he could scramble back through the bricks and escape the pain. He couldn't feel his fingers.

He risked a look at his arm. The pain doubled the moment he saw the silvery bolt sticking out of his sleeve. He very nearly threw up. He had to take a moment, close his eyes and lean his head back against the wall, just breathe, just breathe, and if there was some pathetic whimpering interspersed with the breathing it wasn't like there was anyone around to hear. . . .

There was a padding of feet, and then hot, doggy breath ruffled his hair.

"That looks bad," Jasper said. Hyde's eyes snapped open just in time to see him reaching for the wound. He kicked Jasper in his barrel chest as hard as he could, sent him sprawling.

"It's fine!" Hyde snapped. "Don't touch me, I can handle it!"

"Sorry," Jasper whimpered. Hyde turned away from him, huddling against the wall. It was half to protect the wound from further meddling and half to keep Jasper from seeing the tears streaming down his face.

With his teeth, he ripped into the sleeve of his shirt—fortunately she had missed the overcoat—and tore it off to reveal the wound, the bolt, an awful lot of bright red blood. Black threads trailed out past the shaft, punched into his flesh. His stomach lurched at the sight. That spelled infection, necrosis, he could lose the arm—

Get a hold of yourself, Jekyll snapped, though his voice was thin with pain, too. Don't pull it out or we'll bleed to death. Get back to the Society. We ought to have the right materials for the Flesh Weaver. It'll take time, and it will hurt, but it will be survivable. You like surviving, don't you?

Hyde clenched his teeth. Through a massive effort of will, he managed to get to his feet. His head spun. Again, he came very close to throwing up.

"What—what can I do to help?" Jasper said meekly.

"Get me back to the Society," Hyde said. His voice was hoarse. "Jekyll can patch me up."

Jasper's ears flattened back, and a few multicolored sparks spat from between his teeth.

"Right," he said. He sidled up to Hyde and offered one large, hairy arm. Hyde grappled onto it one-handed. Every movement sent another shock of pain through him. He grit his teeth and swore he would show no sign of weakness until he was properly alone.

He threw up three times on the way back.

Jasper got him to the laboratory door, and Hyde pried himself off and staggered inside without a word of preamble. Jasper tried to say something and Hyde slammed the door on him, locking it behind himself. The pain had gotten into his head, left him fuzzy and disoriented. He just wanted it to stop. He would've cut off his arm if it would've made it stop.

Keep going, Jekyll said. Nearly there. This is the easy part.

"Shut up," Hyde said. He shoved off of the door and staggered to the lab bench. It was a mess. Everything was cluttered and blurry, swimming before his eyes.

The decoded notes are in the desk, Jekyll said. Go to the desk.

Hyde took a few tottering steps back until he encountered the desk. There was blood on his fingers. He didn't bother wiping it off.

Open the top left drawer, Jekyll said. Just look for the title. It should say "Flesh Weaver" at the top. Big letters, can't miss it.

Clumsy and sniffling, Hyde did as he was told. The pain was too much to bear. No one was watching now, no one but Jekyll, and there were already no secrets between them. He was free to collapse into a weeping, snotty mess if he felt like it.

It really fucking hurt.

He found the papers, though only after smearing bloody fingerprints on nearly everything in the drawer. Jekyll continued to walk him through it, one step at a time. At least his voice was strained, too, even if it was only in Hyde's head. No composure could survive this kind of agony. The brewing was accomplished without antagonism from either side, perhaps simply because they were both in too much pain. The Flesh Weaver came out pale yellow and fizzing, and Hyde corked it, just in case it got knocked over. He sank to the floor and put his back against the lab bench.

This was the hard part.

Fingers trembling, Hyde grasped the end of the bolt. He was too sweaty to get a good grip on it. He wiped his hand off on his coat. He was shivering despite the warmth of the room, and his eyes wouldn't focus properly. On the second try, he managed to get a better grip on the bolt. He took three quick, deep breaths, squeezed his eyes shut, gritted his teeth.

He yanked. Agony lanced through his arm, so intense it knocked all the air out of him, sent sparks dancing across his eyes. He threw up again, although it was more of a dry heave at this point. The alcohol was not helping with the pain—or maybe it was, in which case, thank God he was still drunk—but it was certainly helping to unsettle his stomach.

It's barbed, Jekyll said. His arm was pinned to Hyde's by the bolt, pain stitched through the both of them. You'll have to push it out the other side.

"Bitch," Hyde hissed, his voice thick with pain. "Bitch, bitch, bitch, shitting hell, cunt on a stick, mother of fuck—"

The faster you do it, the less it will hurt.

Hyde put his thumb on the end of the bolt and pressed as hard as he could. The scream that tore out of him was like a banshee's. He writhed. His head slammed into the lab bench and he barely felt it. The point of the bolt tented out the skin on the back of his arm and then punched through. Hyde grabbed the bolt and yanked it the rest of the way out. The pain sharpened to a blinding white lance and then, finally, began to dull. He subsided against the wall, gasping for air and whimpering and trembling. Blood streamed down his arm. Fumbling, he grabbed up the potion from the bench and uncorked it with his teeth. He forced himself to pour it out slowly, one gush at a time. It fizzled like phenol against the edges of the wound. An unbearable itching kicked up inside his arm as the flesh stitched itself back together.

At long, long last, the pain subsided, and the itching resolved, and he was left drenched in sweat and shivering uncontrollably. He picked up the bolt with numb fingers, examined it through misty eyes. It was a cruel, steely thing, with three pairs of barbs hooked back along its length. Blood and stringy bits of flesh were still clinging to it.

"Keepin' that," Hyde mumbled. "That's a Lucy original, that is."

You are unbelievable, said Jekyll. Now would you please change back? Someone will have heard the screaming.

By that point, Hyde was all to happy to get out of his body, to sink back into the muted mists of Jekyll. He heaved himself to his feet and whipped up a quick batch of the transformative serum. While it fizzed and shifted from red to green, there was a knock at the door.

"Dr. Jekyll?" It was Virginia Ito, sounding gravely concerned.

"One moment!" Hyde called back. He didn't sound much like Jekyll, but maybe through the door, and just two words, it should be fine, and even if it wasn't, Jekyll himself could smooth it over. He gulped down the potion and braced himself.

She knocked again.

"I heard screaming," Virginia said. "Jasper said Mr. Hyde had been hurt."

Hyde looked down at his hands. He touched his chest. There was the warmth, the salty, bitter taste, the light-headedness—but where was the pain? Where were the wracking convulsions? What was taking so long?

"Why isn't it working?" he hissed. Panic clawed up his spine. "Why isn't it working?"

I—I don't know, Jekyll stammered, the same terror in his voice. I don't know!

"What the fuck are we meant to do?"

The doorknob rattled. Hyde almost bit through his tongue.

"Henry, I'm starting to get concerned about all that silence," Virginia warned.

"Fuck! Fuckity fuck!"

Just make another, Jekyll said hurriedly. Quickly, a double dose. Now, now!

Hyde's hands shook abominably. He spilled the salt all over the table. Virginia was pounding on the door. The second potion effervesced and turned green and Hyde quaffed it without a single breath for air.

"Dr. Jekyll, if you do not open this door, I will break it down," Virginia threatened.

Pain struck through Hyde's chest, and he had never been happier to feel it. Agony consumed him, dropping him to his knees. No sound could pass his lips. Glowing ichor spilled from his eyes and mouth. He gasped in a breath, then two. He staggered to his feet, wiping his face on his coat. Said coat was then torn off and flung across the room. He checked the cheval glass.

Henry Jekyll looked back at him, disheveled and exhausted. Hyde hung over his shoulder, a mist, a dissipating fog.

Jekyll rubbed at his face, let out a breath, and opened the door.

Virginia paused with one leg cocked, as though she had been about to kick her way in. She placed her foot back on the floor and straightened her skirts. She cleared her throat.

"There you are," she said. Her eyes went wide, brow furrowed. "My God, what's happened to you?"

"Ah," said Jekyll, looking down at the sleeve Hyde had torn off to get at the bolt. There was also a great deal of blood still on him. "Mr. Hyde was . . . a touch out of sorts. I'm not injured, not to worry. It's all his."

"Good lord," said Virginia. "Is he all right?"

"He will be," said Jekyll. "I've managed to get him mostly patched up and calmed down. I apologize for not answering the door sooner, he was being difficult."

"I see," said Virginia. She let out a decisive sigh. "Well, if there's anything I can do, let me know."

"I certainly will," he promised. "Thank you for the offer. You said Jasper told you the situation?"

"Yes," she said. "In a manner of speaking. It was more a panicked sobbing than a telling."

"Ah," Jekyll said again. "Well, please let him know that all should be well, and that Mr. Hyde and I both appreciate his efforts. I'm given to understand he saved Hyde's life."

"Did he," said Virginia, eyebrows raising. "Well, we shall have to give him a proper hero's welcome. What about you?"

"Staying with my patient," said Jekyll. "He should be well by morning, but I shouldn't like to leave him alone until then."

"Of course," said Virginia. "It seems like it was quite the ordeal."

"Indeed."

"Do take care, Henry."

"You as well."

She walked away, and he shut the door. For a moment, he stood there staring at the wood grain, thinking nothing, swaying with the beating of his heart.

"That," he said to himself, "was too close."

You're telling me, said Hyde.

[sailorswelcome]

cadmium yellow, yellow ochre, titans, burnt sienna, english red, rose, cobalt blue spectral, prussian azure, olive green ((ranger green...)), sepia there are a lot here i know im sorry

ranger green... the perfect color. anyway

cadmium yellow; when you think of the word “happy” what’s the first thing that comes to mind?

the view of blackfish creek from the highway because i have a distinct memory from when i was 14 on the way to school riding past there when i realized i was happy and not afraid all the time anymore

yellow ochre; name an artist/band whom you just discovered & can’t get enough of!

been vibin to a little bit of voxtrot lately. soft and warm really do get me

titans; do you prefer slow mornings or relaxing evenings?

early mornings if im alone but evenings if im with friends

burnt sienna; is there a painting that brings you peace when you look at it?

my favorite paintings are leviathan by bo bartlett, gleipnir by walton ford, and man proposes, god disposes by edwin henry landseer in that order. i guess i would say out of all of them leviathan brings me the most peace bc its my favorite but theyre all kinda. bloody. so idk

english red; what animal do you relate to most?

coyotes bc they are funny little bastards who can adapt to most environments and many food sources and are often viewed as a pest but theyre super cool

rose; what’s something really positive going on in your life right now?

the weather has been perfect all summer

cobalt blue spectral; what is the most beautiful place you have ever been to?

the palatine hill in rome. ultimate levels of overwhelming beauty. olive trees and cats and rabbits and flowers and just aaa aaa i would kill to be there rn

prussian azure; what’s your favorite scent?

air conditioners and freezers. they have some chemical in them that makes them so good. fucking addicted to the sniff

olive green; are you currently reading anything? how do you like it so far?

i have a big ass stack of books ive been working thru but im currently reading “ice ghosts” and francis’ croziers biography bc im a big nerd. but i just finished “why fish dont exist” and it made me cry like a baby so i definitely recommend that one for any depressed gay people or fish and taxonomy nerds

sepia: name five things that always make you happy

the ocean, eating some good bread, snow, my friends, air conditioner smell (as previously discussed), and playing guitar

thank u miss thang i love you so much and i cant wait 2 see ur answers