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outofchar. THAT MOMENT WHEN YOU DONT KNOW IF THEY GOT THE MESSAGE OR NOT LIKE WHAT DO I DO

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( people like to say that when death is kind   to you, it's best to run & hide & that when   death gives you a gentle touch , the end is   near . & perhaps that could be applied to   dark-haired bullies too . but death wasn't   about to try to purposefully break this silent   bond that had worked it's way up between them   no , he wasn't going to return that artist's   question with a shove or even a fist . so   swallowing his own pride , death spoke quietly )           ' i don't hate you .                       -- -- -- ' ( he hated this feeling .   his throat was clenched   & he felt sick )                  ' -- you remind me of someone .                 someone i used to hate . ' 

   ( he's going to quiet down now      & hope beyond all hopes that      basil can take a hint & shut      up for once . but he highly      doubts that would ever happen      so he continues on slowly before      the painter can ask anymore      questions . ) ' you have talent              a family              you have everything .        & as hard as it may be for you to believe, i had it all once too . '

Paintbrushes & Cigarettes { Highschool AU }

— And that was something Basil hoped he wouldn’t catch, it wasn’t even that the painter found him interesting per say but more the fact he was the most interesting subject in the room currently. Still he couldn’t deny that their was a part of him that was interested in Death, in the reasons behind his actions, seeing him alone, separated from that pack he hung around just the manner of his voice was somehow different.

                       And that stirred the younger’s curiosity.

Instead of answering the question, the aspiring artist responded with one of his own.

                      ” Why do you hate me so much?”

Even though Death had stated early it was not hate, but a simple dislike, it felt so much stronger to the younger. A mere dislike would warrant a glare and sly comment now and then but hardly anything like bruises and shoves. It was eating at him, why him? What did Death have against him? Had he offended him in some way?

If it wasn’t for the safe ( or relatively safe) setting they found themselves in, Basil would hardly find the courage to speak his thoughts out loud, but seeing as this was probably going to be the only time he would get to speak without the threat of physical violence, he was going to cautiously take advantage.

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( now that was enough to carve a smirk into   his lips, his body shifting to lean back   in his chair )               ’ you find me interesting. ‘        ( it’s not really a question .         more of an observation , one         that death would never let         basil live down , whether in         a good way or a bad way , he         had no idea . )   ( he would simply push his chair back     onto two legs & rock back & forth     absentmindedly , & his eyes were pulled     toward Basil , watching the concentration     in his eyes , those deep blue eyes ,     pushing himself back upright on the     chair , he raised a brow , maybe he     had been expecting an answer , & he     hadn’t been surprised when it didn’t     come right away . ) ’ well, do you or don’t you ? ‘ ( in a way , death could be considered interesting ,   but never in a good way , there were many questions   people could ask about him , & sometimes they did   where do you live ? how come i never see your mom ?   of course, anyone stupid enough to even try asking   these questions were his friends & even then , they   would often leave with a black eye . )

Paintbrushes & Cigarettes { Highschool AU }

— His tone was different again, softer, like when he apologized earlier. The artist was expecting a snarky comment, a threat, anything else than his compliance. Perhaps it was just that which made him actually speak up to the older instead of remaining silence and brushing him off as per usual.

" It’s nothing really, just a sketch. I needed some way to pass the time that wasn’t going to slowly drive me insane, really the idea of sitting here in silence for hours isn’t too appealing in my eyes. I-I hope you don’t mind, it’s just there isn’t any interesting subject material here really, I can stop of course if you want me to."

His voice still held on to that nervousness, carefully choosing his words, but slowly he was speaking more comfortably. While he was far from being comfortable with the older, he was noticing that maybe Death wasn’t all that he appeared to be.

"They are strikingly similar, especially in the ways people chose to express them."

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“Behind every exquisite thing that existed, there was something tragic.” 

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( swallowing thickly the older male turned toward   the other, his brows raising, was basil…   sketching— him ? slowly ,& making sure he looked   anything but overjoyed to do it, he did as he was   told the question on the tip of his tongue but there   was no sounds . not for a while at least . )                ’ just what are you doing ? ‘     ( his tone was borderline amused and confused,       not wanting to make it seem as if he loved       having the younger’s attention, he wasn’t       going to give himself of the artist the       pleasure, he was going to continue to let       his mind mull over different things, not       really listening to whatever it was basil       was saying, until he turned in his chair       completely to face him ) ’ i don’t hate you.                                             hate & dislike are different . ‘                     ( he didn’t even dislike basil, but he’d go down to  h e l l  than tell him that )       ( maybe he was sickening.         maybe he could qualify         as a psychopath. but he         didn’t really care. he         had gotten used to that         the dirty looks, the fear         in people’s eyes as they         quickly turned away.                            what was he doing ? hoping that basil could see more .                          you really are a fool death. )

Paintbrushes & Cigarettes { Highschool AU }

— Basil bit his lip, did he have to act with way all the time? What was it about himself that @#!*% Death off so much?

“Look, I’m sorry but when you decide to threaten me every five minutes how do you expect me to react? I know you aren’t exactly thrilled to me here, I can tell you neither am I but I can hardly see the point in making the situation worse than it is.”

That was perhaps the most he had ever spoken to the older boy at one time, most of his words were often muttered under his breath for the threat of violence and slurs seemed to keep the artist’s tongue in check most of the time. But now, now he had the comfort of knowing Death wouldn’t be able to attack him, and seeing him now he almost felt…sorry for him. Not like he was looking down on the other boy but he just seemed so lost without his group, so lonely.

Deciding it was probably a bad decision to keep eye contact, especially with Death’s temper, the boy’s gaze shifted once again to the sketch in front of him, his fingers making careful lines across the page. Though do to his bad luck on choosing a subject for the piece, he still had to sneak in glances at the other,

              “Do you mind turning you head to the right some?”

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( turning a half-hearted glare   toward the dark-haired   boy, he hissed below his breath )               ’ do you really think anyone could make me do something ? ‘ your father could .                               ’ forget it. ‘ ( blowing out a sigh, his forehead rested atop   his arms once more, trying to distract himself   wanting to be anywhere but there, next to the   one person he tried so hard to hate. the one   boy who always seemed to be in a whole other   world, wrapped up in his art & dreams, if only   he could see the world the way he did.   if only he was still innocent. )                          ’ ———- ‘           ( trying to enrapture himself in             the silence that blanketed the             room, but his mind seemed to             want to think of nothing but the             curly haired victim beside him.                              why was his heart beating so quickly?                 what was wrong with him? )

Paintbrushes & Cigarettes { Highschool AU }

— The curly mess of black locks glanced up, obviously torn between shock and confusion. Deaths words were hardly expected. A sly comment, a jab, a violent threat, those were all within his character….but an apology? Something just didn’t sit right in Basil’s mind.

                     ”Am I supposed to believe that?”

His voice came out more irritated than he had intended, instantly feeling the embarrassment and fear flush his face the artist stammered out an apology of his own,

                ” I-I didn’t mean- It’s just- Is she making you do this? ”

And by ‘she’ Basil was referring to the insane teacher who had decided to stick them in here in the first place and honestly it was the only reasonable explanation. Perhaps there was some sort of getting out on good behavior trick to detention that Death was trying to follow.  

His fingers scribbled out a few more lines before his mind finally realized what he had started to doodle, lo and behold there on his picture sat a half-finished sketch of Death. In his defense of course, it wasn’t like there was any interesting subject matter within the classroom.

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( rolling his eyes his arms crossed over   the desk, his forehead rested on his   arms, his arms began to get fidgety   he hated sitting still, in silence, he   drew in a sharp breath before quickly   finding something else to harass the   younger boy with, it would be so easy   to just reach over & reach over & rip   the artist's drawing pad away from him.   pressing the palms of his hands over his   eyes. & forever more he didn't know what   drove him to do what he did next )                             ' look--- basil, i'm sorry--- alright ? '             ( his eyes immediately turned toward the               window, the fractured sunlight falling               through the window, an easy excuse for               a distraction. his lower lip was pulled               between his teeth, ready for the shock               that was simply bound to happen. his               hand reached up to push his hair away               from his forehead, a gesture that               portrayed how nervous he really was               after all, when was the last time he               a p o l o g i z e d ? for anything ? )

( oh death.             what lead him so far ?                 if only he let someone in                      to find out . but that's                           did best . he would never                                 let anyone come close enough                                          to see how sad & lonely he                                                                                     really was but he deserved it. didn't he ? )

Paintbrushes & Cigarettes { Highschool AU }

— Oh how typical, Death was going to blame this whole situation on him. It wasn’t as if he was the one that shoved him into the wall or wouldn’t just let him pass like a decent human being in the first place. Still the artist said nothing, nothing but a roll of his eyes and a frustrated huff.

He really hated this, detention. Just another scratch on his record that really wasn’t as clean as people thought it was. He had done some stupid stuff, messed up here and there but it never amounted to much of anything.

                                         But this.

He had worked so hard to build up the trust of his teachers, not simply because he needed their recommendations to get into art school but because he was one of those few students who exactly liked school.

                   And guys like Death ruined it for him.

At least he had his sketchbook to pass the time with, it was the one thing he was able to sneak by the teacher. Getting up, the artist walked over to the empty desk and promptly rooted through the mess of papers until he found a decent pencil, returning to his seat without even a glance at the other. The only thing that left his lips was an irritated murmur, not intended to be heard.

                     ” Can you please stop that?”

That senseless tapping of his fingers was driving the younger insane.

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( the rest of the day consisted of glares & notso   subtle jostles, & all to soon, death was sitting   in a classroom, alone except for the artist who   looked as if at any given moment he was going to   get sick , the silence in the room as sickening   & his slender fingers took to tapping a considerably   annoying pattern on the surface of his desk, the   glare that was imprinted on his face seemed permanent   it wasn’t long before he spoke in the quietest voice   possible, his words condescending, only meaning harm   as usual . )              ’ this is your fault. ‘     ( of course it wasn’t basil’s fault       all the artist had done was try to       get around the bully & his friends       pushing the blame on him satisfied       him, it wasn’t death’s fault. it wasn’t )

                 ( it was sickening how much he sounded like                    his father . but he wasn’t going to think                    about it . the quicker he brushed it off                    the better, & besides, what did it matter                    anyway ? just having to stay a few hours                    after school was no big deal was it ? )      ( expecting no reaction from the other boy        the older male turned away, his fingers        returning to that incessant tapping, a        puff of air blowing from his lips in a        frustrated sigh )

Paintbrushes & Cigarettes { Highschool AU }

—Basil knew it was coming, from the moment those words left his lips he knew that Death wouldn’t take very kindly to them.

                     And he didn’t.

Soon enough the younger was slammed up against a wall, feeling the pressure of the older’s arm against his throat, his words threatening as his frustrated gaze fell to the artist. Basil did nothing, nothing but cringe as he awaited the pain that was soon to follow.

But the pain didn’t come, instead Basil watched as the other boy was ripped from him, fighting the removal up until he seemed to be struck with fear and realization. Basil felt this as well, for there stood , a disproving glare in her eyes, his insane English teacher. Oh great, just what he needed this morning. 

Death was quick to shoot Basil a look he was all to familiar with, and in response Basil’s lips were sealed, even as questions were directed towards him the curly haired boy did nothing but glue his eyes to the ground, not wanted to meet either of their gazes.

It was stupid, aggravating that he should be yelled at, punished, for fighting when it was clear that it was all Death’s doing. He was merely the victim in the situation, he had no control over the other’s actions and now he is being punished for it? His eyes glanced up and shot both the teacher and Death a look of complete and utter annoyance.

Detention. Just the icing on a cake.  He really didn’t need this, and with a huff of frustration the artist marched off to class. 

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New X-Men Days of Future Past Trailer!

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( it had already been a particularly bad day,   & like they day; like father like son, &   suddenly his upper arm was pushed up against   the younger’s throat, roughly pushing him up   against the nearest wall . & it was all he   could do not to h i s s out the words )               ’ don’t talk to me like that, basil—- ‘   ( his little speech didn’t get very far until     someone else, someone considerably bigger,     had a hold of his own collar, dragging him     away from the younger. at first he thought     it was just one of his friends, & his body     instinctively jerked away, wrenching out of     the stranger’s grip. & he realized that it     was definitely not one of his friends, & his     breath caught in his throat, quickly trying     to stutter out some sort of excuse, but he     couldn’t think of anything, his tongue was     dry, & his hands were suddenly sweating, his     eyes flicked to the younger, shooting him a     look that could kill. & he gave one of his     worst excuses )

’ it was nothing. ‘

Paintbrushes & Cigarettes { Highschool AU }

—Basil was expecting him to just simply block his way, not almost cutting of the circulation in his arm. It seemed today was one of those ‘special’ days were Death just was in a better mood than usual, and by better it meant worse for the younger.

The aspiring artist bit down on his bottom lip as his eyes met the gazes of those walking past, there was pity in some eyes, in others amusement, but none of them bothered to help or say anything. It was just the way that the whole system works, speaking up caused trouble, which is why he always tried to watch himself around this sicko, why he constantly took all this abuse. It would be far worse if he didn’t.

          “In about a minute I will be, now please you can continue this later I am sure.”

Of course his words were useless, Death wasn’t going to just let him go. He never was one for patience.

The next words he uttered came as a shock to himself, he hadn’t really meant to voice them aloud, and after they escaped from his lips he instantly regretted it.

            “What’s your deal today?”

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THIS IS THE FIRST TIME IVE ACTUALLY SEEN THIS AND IM CRYING

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{ when the younger tried to step around him, the   older male's hand grabbed violently at basil's   upper arm, pulling him back away from the door   his grip not leaving the other, ensuring that   he didn't try to get away again, the other's   simply watched as death roughly handled the artist.   ignoring the request that the younger had voiced   he simply continued on as if he had never heard him }                      ' what do you know about what i'm interested in?        what if i happen to be a big fan of art? ' { he's lying, of course, it's   what he does best at. lies &                 violence.   he had taught himself not to care. } ' relax---- you aren't late yet. '        { yet, was the operative word.          death was going to make sure          that he wasn't on time. like          he always did. & nothing          was going to change now          nothing would ever change          or---- at least he thought          it wouldn't. but things don't          always happen the way you'd          like them to }

Paintbrushes & Cigarettes { Highschool AU }

— Basil’s colorful hands found there way into his pockets, nervously he hoped that Death would be too dim witted to think that he still had the piece with him. He had actually tried to hid it today, within his back, because for once it had actually dried before he got to school. It was frustrating, more than frustrating, to see them trash his work so often, if they did not respect him, they should at least respect the art. That was what perhaps bothered him the most.

                 ”Nothing you would be interested in, I assure you.”

The younger glanced away, his eyes locking with the old clock on the wall, watching the minutes just tick away time wasting away. He really couldn’t afford to be late again, God knows what his insane English teach would do to him.

The young artist tried to step past him, knowing full well that his plan for escape would be blocked. Death never let him off easy, every time Basil had the misfortune to lock eyes with the freckled terror, Death made sure to leave his mark in some way or another.

                ” Would you mind moving?”

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{ it didn’t come as a surprise that the younger   had been wrapped up in his own little world   of art, he always seemed to have some sort   bright color streaked across his face, or   even a half finished painting with him, one   that death & his friends never let him finish                     guiltless.                     uncaring.   that’s what he had to be. & there was no way   that he would ever be anything else. not for   anyone, of anything. he had to make himself   look strong. & if he ever showed any pity for   artist, all that he had worked so hard for   would disappear within a matter of seconds.   he couldn’t risk that. }         ’ —- that’s not surprising,      what is it this time? ‘        { his voice was mocking & bordering just plain          annoying. he made full usage of his height as          he stared down at the dark-haired male, his          arms were crossed over his chest in a superior          gesture.                           & when his eyes met the blue’s                           of his victim, it was almost                           startling; it seemed he could                           see straight into his soul

& death h a t e d being weakened. }

Paintbrushes & Cigarettes { Highschool AU }

— Ah, why did he think that he was just going to slip by unnoticed. He never was. Each day it was like Death sought him out personally. Seeing him standing there, it was like his peace of mind was waiting to be broken. When would he get tired of this? Really what was it about him that Death seemed to hate so much? 

It really didn’t help that the older was standing directly in his way, that stupid condescending look on his face. Basil wanted to roll his eyes at the comment, but he knew all too well what the results of that were and really he didn’t feel like getting slammed up against a wall again, not to mention his mother started to get concerned one evening when he came home with a black eye. There are only so many times you can blame it on clumsiness before someone catches on.  

" Actually, yes." the artist muttered, " Now, if you wouldn’t mind moving? You happen to be standing in my way and  I would actually like to get to class on time for once."  

It was a regular occurrence  he was getting rather tired of, while his voice was soft there was no denying the hints of irritation within it he tried of course, to not make this obvious. 

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ooc. /KISSES UR FACE 172938475932475 TIMES ILY OK

— THAT STARTER HAD SO MANY TYPOS IM SORRY 

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     { no one knew where he went wrong. he used to        be such a perfect kid, he was a perfect student;        an innocent. & then one day, he was just different,        maybe he finally realized just how much he was unloved        how much no one really cared. whatever it was, ‘death’        was a sick, cruel person now, scraping by his classes        & getting away with his cruel acts with papery excuses        no one was sure how his nickname had originated, & he’d        tell you a different story every time you asked him.        there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that no one even        remembered his real name anymore. he’d rather keep it        that way. }                    ’ cutting it a bit close today aren’t we, basil?         painting another masterpiece? ’   { basil.     the one boy that death would n e v e r leave    alone. maybe because it was easy; basil reminded    death of what he used to be, & he hated him    because of it. something was satisfying when    the dark-haired boy was shoved low, treated    like nothing in the older boy’s eyes. there    was a stern look on his face, his head tilted    ever so slightly to the side, staring at the    aspiring artist with a cold, steady gaze }

{ his tongue ran across his teeth as he   tried to keep his gaze just on basil’s   eyes instead of his lips as they pursed   in obvious frustration. }

Paintbrushes & Cigarettes { Highschool AU }

— Each day it was the same routine, though sometimes they liked to give him an extra treat. Getting shoved into lockers, having his artwork vandalized or stolen, getting the lovely line of slurs when walking into class, it was a typical school day in Basil’s eyes. He found it stupid really, annoying but it also helped to beat down his already weak self confidence.

                     It surely didn’t help that he happened to share a name with a spice.

He really didn’t understand why it was always him who got the worst of it, yes this stupid gang who called themselves ’ The Grim Reapers’ seemed to enjoy harassing everyone but they seemed to like to pick Basil out among the crowd, especially Death who had the stupidest nickname of them all in the artist’s opinion. His arms had gotten used to the small bundle of bruises they developed from constantly getting pushed into lockers, it was just a fact of life and despite his dislike of it, he did nothing to stop it from happening. He was passive, hoping they would just grow tired of the joke and move on.

Today seemed to be as special occasion as they lined themselves up outside of his class, he cold feel there smirking eyes on him as he walked past,

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