#vaultiism

[starcrcwns]

@vaultiism​ -- cont from here 

   She can’t believe -- no, she can believe -- that he would try to change the subject to her. It’s hard to focus, though, as soon as she hears that Jack is responsible for what happened to him. She only heard so much , mentions of Jack’s gaudy casino. She never wanted to go to that egomaniac’s lair ... but Timothy was ... stuck there ... 

Jaw clenches for a second, head resting against his shoulder a little longer before she pulls away a bit. She doesn’t want to move away too much so she’s staying in his hold, hands gently cupping his cheeks so she can get a better look of him. Jack made him ... get the same mask. Knowing Jack, he went all the way and made him get the scar. too. She . This poor man had been dealing with Jack’s vile ideas and whims long after she left. She should have done something. If she had taken Timothy with her, he wouldn’t be in this mess -- and he wouldn’t be ... 

“ -- I’m alright. A lot has happened since we last spoke. What did he do to you? Do I have to find someone to bring him back to life so I can murder him myself? ”

[asdiirt]

vaultiism / @vaultiism

jack had been there so many times by now, he practically knew the layout of the whole damn place. well, the parts that mattered, anyway—namely the ones leading up to nisha’s bedroom and other stupid essentials like the bathroom and hell, the kitchen if the need for a drink or .. whatever else arose. he knew the place well enough to know that the pair of eyes he’s met with when he makes it to the kitchen in order to do just that were something new, so either this kid snuck in there somehow or— there was something else at play he wasn’t getting.

 for a moment he debates whether he should slowly back away, wake her and ask why the hell there’s a kid, sitting at the kitchen table, reading and eating cereal like it’s no big deal, but by the time said kid opens his mouth jack knows he’s probably meant to be there, anyway. sneaky— how he hadn’t seen him before is beyond him, but then again his eyes were only focused on one thing and one thing alone whenever he would stay over, anyway. and she was still very muchasleep. and probably unaware that jack had gotten up from the bed.

  “ ‘sup—-kiddo.” is the first thing he can think of, having paused in his stride to grab the aforementioned drink, offering a small wave, before he realizes that wow, okay, maybe he shouldhave put more than just his boxers on. but that was before he knew that this kid also apparently lived there. for some reason nisha didn’t deem important enough to have him know. whatever.

     “say, you—wanna uh, refresh my memory and tell me who you are again?”

clay didn’t know whether to balk or stay strong here. every instinct he’d had tells him he aught to play alpha dog here , protect his turf and his family - but he’d been working hard to break those instincts since coming here. nisha was scary , and she didn’t know her ass from her elbow when it came to being sisterly , or maternal , or whatever she was going for , but ... she’d done more for him in a few months than anyone’d done for him in his life. she deserved to have a normal kid under her roof , and he’d do what he could to give her that.

so telling him to fuck off was off the table. unfortunately. this guy reeked of sleaze and shitty cologne , but he was the one making his sister happy , so ... clay shrugged , shoving another spoonful of cereal in his mouth to buy time. his eyes scanned over the stranger a few times , taking him in somberly ; if there’s any plus to this situation , it’s that he knows exactly what he’s dealing with. could’ve probably gotten there with him clothed , too , but scars tell a lot about a person. this man seemed to have plenty.

“ who’re you ? “ he asks , as innocently as possible. some strange man come parading around his house , he’s entitled to a few questions. “ you come ‘round , like ... once a week these days. “ 

[hyper10n]

❝ i don’t want to do this anymore. ❞ / from timmy? :3c

Jack’s eyes widen, wild emotions flickering across the mismatched irises. Incredulous, angry, hurt.

“...Whaddaya mean, Timmy?” Jack drawls - almost conversationally, but there’s a dangerous edge to his voice. Something sharp and poisonous, prickling with betrayal. “Don’t I give you everything you need, here?”

He advances on his double, gripping him tight by the chin and lifting his head to lock eyes with him. His gaze is intense, staring straight through him. “Don’t I take care of you, Timmy? Protect you, keep you, care for you? Pay you more than any shmuck on Pandora could ever scrape together?”

Fingers grip tighter on Tim’s artificial face, and Jack pauses a moment to admire his freckles. His trembling jaw. Those pretty eyes, all wide and bright.

No, he could never let those precious puppy eyes out of his sight. Timmy was too pretty, too good at what he did, too dear to him. Sweet brave Timmy, who hunted a vault and let Jack take all the credit, who took everything Jack gave without complaint. Tim, who he’d had longer than almost anyone, who’d seen him before he was ruined. Jack loved him, though he’d never told him to his face.

He couldn’t allow anyone else to have Tim - not even Tim himself.

His voice darkens and he crowds him in like he’s liable to swallow him whole.

“..You’re my special boy, Timmy. Don’t you know that?” He strokes his jaw, tender and slow. “I can’t just let you go running off. You belong to me.”

[impulsd]

❝  i know you’re pretending to hate me to keep up the jack image.  you can drop that now, though!  it’s just you and me, buddy!  ❞

@vaultiism​ liked -timothy 

[destinedatlas]

@vaultiism liked this 

     Jack exists in the cybernetics of Rhys Strongfork and he can’t say he hates it but he CERTAINLY doesn’t like being STUCK in here. Of course, it’s better than BEING DEAD. The former CEO will manage, BARELY. For now, whenever the AI is bored he likes to sneak up on the guy whose head he’s living in and scare the shit out of him. There’s not much ENTERTAINMENT when all you can do is sit around waiting for things to happen, only allowed to WATCH. He entertains the thought time and time again that maybe this is is HELL, but at the same time, he knows BETTER than that.

     This particular time, Jack appears flickering as he always does behind his HOST, taking a peep at whatever the fuck it is he’s doing with his time now. He’s thinking of maybe LECTURING HIM about taking LIFE for granted; BEING DEAD FUCKING SUCKS, but that would come later, for a day when he’s wasting his time living life to its fullest potential.

          “DO YOU EVER GET OUT?” He says suddenly, raising a brow at the man who is doing... something. “Like, don’t you ever do anything FUN? Sure you do! But how about RIGHT NOW, because THIS... whatever this is... it’s a goddamn BORE.” He complains, arms crossed in front of his chest.

          “WHY not go do something, I’uhno, EXCITING? You KNOW you want to Rhysie. Maybe if I THINK hard enough about being fun you’ll become fun, too.”

[d21-c]

@vaultiism​ liked for a starter

“You know I bet I could make like a fortune being a Handsome Jack actor. Like play the villain in a few movies... People do paint him as a villain now right?” 

[jakobscrest]

@vaultiism​ said: “Where are you even leaving to, this is your house.” / from jack 👀 sends u one right back 

“Gettin’ my hungover ass out of this room before my bad decisions cause any more trouble.” He’s already sneaking out-- though he has no regrets about doing so. The previous night had been wild-- and he had the marks to show it. Indeed it had taken ‘sleeping with the enemy’ to a whole new level.

[vanderking]

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[mayhemd]

what shape does your relief take ?

PAINT.

you may not be ready to let down your mask, but the first step is to make it look like you. paint your face on the outside- you’re still safe and contained, nobody knows you, but one day, they will have to. you can’t stay closed off from everyone forever, but small steps will make you ready for the day you will have to open up. express yourself with distance- one day, you will want to take it off.

TAGGED BY : @starcrcwns​

TAGGING  :  @vaultiism​  @leaveatip​ @maskeraide​ @hammerlockcd​

[vaultiism]

starcrcwns mentioned you in a post

@vaultiism love how it gets angstier and more desperate begging the longer the fight goes on ... really crushes your soul

for fucking real tho

[starcrcwns]

@vaultiism​ liked this

Angel for Jack because we riding that angst train choo choo

   Handsome Jack -- her father -- has finally fallen. His reign and power was stripped and he was sitting here, throwing a tantrum like a child -- talking about how he’s the hero. He’s the hero and the Vault Hunters are the bandits of the story. She doesn’t regret helping them at all. They helped her when nobody else would -- they had managed to get her out of the setup, even with her weak form. The cage was open and the little bird was free.

She owed her life to them. But seeing her father, the man she used to look up to so much, like this was too much. They had wanted to kill him -- and he deserved it -- but Angel begged to let him live. He had no power anymore and the Crimson Raiders could take over to clean up the mess he caused. Too many lives taken, too many planets ruined -- all because he wanted to be a god ; or a hero, in the way he put it. He was far from so. Her body was proof of that.

The last surge of Eridium pumped through her body was too much -- the rock that finally breaks her back -- and she’s on her knees beside Jack, trying not to focus on how much her body craved the very thing killing her. Eridium in small sections didn’t hurt ; it refreshes Sirens and helps them hone their powers better. But his attempt to charge the key was almost her last. Years and years of being forced on it and yet her body continued to want -- to beg -- for it.

“ -- it’s over, dad. Stop ... just stop. ” A pitiful attempt to get him to stop yelling. It was going through her head and she just wanted to lay down and wait until the world went away. Good had beat evil, but her body couldn’t beat the addiction, could it? She was sure to die here, right? Listening to her father rant to the good guys, ignoring his own child dying.

Thin body collapses to the ground, eyes closing as body strains to breathe. Her body and mind are stressing her, now, even after everything. Would he try to hook her up again? Would he go back to his ways?

He surely would -- only time will tell his plans. She’s scared. She’s so, so scared. Maybe death would be better. She could finally escape him for good. A life of servitude no more.

[starcrcwns]

cont from here -- @vaultiism​

   Ah ... crap.  Eyes widen for a second as the words that escaped her mouth finally process -- words that she definitely wasn’t expecting to utter tonight -- but she’s already wanting to get the fuck out of there.

She looks away, cheeks darkening slightly. Could she manage to get out of this scot-free or is she going to have to deal with this shit while she’s tipsy drunk and almost out of whiskey?

“ -- uh, what? Did I do what? ”

For someone so good with words, she was definitely not looking as casual as she wanted to. Doesn’t help the situation that she’s not looking him in the eye. “ Because if you mean ‘drink all the whiskey’ ... I am almost finished, actually. If you want a drink you can have it. ”

[starcrcwns]

@vaultiism​ liked this

Tyreen for Timothy

   “ -- well, isn’t that just adorable! Another little Hyperion goon wanting to be like their widdle hero Jackie? ” Arms are crossed but her head is cocked to the side, examining the lookalike with a gleam of amusement in her eyes. It’s cute and disturbing that he wants to be so like his hero. Hasn’t he ever heard of taking stuff for himself? Making his own story? She’s used to the weird little masks Hyperion sold ... but this is a whole ‘nother ball game.

“ There’s no use in worshiping a dead man. Why don’t you start worshiping me instead? ”

[starcrcwns]

@vaultiism​ liked this for a lyric starter

Nisha for Timothy 

   The Lawbringer’s scoff is loud in the awkward air, head cast downward so the brim of her hat could hide her eyes -- she doesn’t want Timothy to see if she starts tearing up. The topic of Jack ... it’s hard. As nice as it was to see Timothy after all these years, the fact that he looked and sounded just like her boyfriend -- her dead boyfriend -- it wasn’t helping anything.

“ -- I’ve had two years in heaven, but five weeks in hell. ”

She downs her glass of whiskey, gaze still not meeting his. 

“ Where do I go now? ”

[starcrcwns]

I woohooed EVERY sim in the sims 4 – @vaultiism​

“I’m just, like, experiencing things.” [ rhys to fi ]

   “ -- yeah, I can tell. You sure you can handle the rest of that? ” Fiona looks to the bottle of alcohol sitting between them, wondering if she should be taking that before he drinks any more of that stuff. She doesn’t how much alcohol he drank before meeting her, but this wasn’t anything like what they had up there, that’s for sure. 

Pandoran alcohol was stronger -- less regulated -- than anything they had on Helios. 

“ Because you’re going to drink yourself stupid if you keep going. Maybe I should have brought you something ... not so strong. You can’t handle the hard stuff yet. ”

Yeah, she’s taking that bottle. She doesn’t want him to do anything stupid. 

“ You feeling alright? ”

[starcrcwns]

@vaultiism​ -- cont from here

   Small hands tighten on the blanket she has over her head, breathing heavy as her mind keeps going back to the nightmare that caused the cry in the first place. It was all starting fine -- a simple dream about stuff they used to do before ; her hanging out with him as he works, her with her head in her mother’s lap --  and it was a little easier to get to sleep tonight. She should have known it wasn’t a good thing that she was finally able to go to sleep without needing him there.. The nightmare -- watching her mother die ; watching her be killed by her own powers -- isn’t something that most kids should have to see.  Yet, here she was. Haunted and plagued by these memories. It wasn’t that long ago ...

She just wanted to go back ... 

“ -- mom. I-It was about mom. ”

The Siren hopes that there doesn’t need to be any context given ; with what happened being a fresh wound for them both, she knows it’s not a topic that’s easily talked about. After all, she was the reason why her own mom was dead ... 

“ I-I’m sorry ... I didn’t mean to wake you up. ” Messing up stuff again, aren’t you, Angel? She figures that it wasn’t long before her father doesn’t want to be near her. The guilt is already there, bubbling, every time she looks at him. He’s in pain. Because of her. She can tell he hasn’t been sleeping.

“ I’m okay ... ”

Angel moves the blanket off her head, showing the tears running down her cheeks -- but she rubs at her eyes and looks away.