xx-party-poison-xx

[xx-party-poison-xx]

Angel- Party loves when Ghoul calls him that, like he’s a god damn desert miracle that exists only for the other man. Though honestly at this point maybe he does, maybe he isn’t saving the world for all of them anymore, maybe he’s trying to save it just for one. The trans am is a good old girl really, she reaches a high speed in a matter of seconds, even on the sandy soil the red turns them into, away from the road and towards the distant light. He knows the others won’t follow on bike as Grace can’t be left on her own, but he is more than prepared for the lecture on how they should be at home recovering and not gallivanting about the desert, that they’re more than likely to get once returning home. ”There shouldn’t be much between us and the site-“ His eyes follow a camp fire as they pass it, they know of the joy’s there, a couple of girls and their black dog who’d asked to stay the night on Party’s turf, but they’re gone again in seconds.

“- the ravine is the other way.”

Because shit he’s been out here most of his life now, and Party Poison knows this landscape better than anyone. He reaches up, flicking the latch that allows the fabric roof panels to roll away, exposing them to the wind but most of all the rich scattering of stars over head as they drive.

Midnight Drive, RP @funghoulsayboom

“Did you see that?” It was a small zip through a calm starry desert night. The reds hair ruffling as slight breeze swept past, carrying with it the smell of distant camp fire…but the sands retain heat after the blistering day and release it slowly, so it’s warm out, no need for anything warmer than their usual outfits.

But it’s a night Party is glad for, because he’s sitting on a blanket up on the diner roof, a few pillows strewn around and Fun Ghoul laying on his back with his head in the reds lap. Party’s fingers working their way through his dark locks of hair. Jet had set this up, arranged soft things up there in such a way that it gave the two some private time outside and not inside, where they’d mostly stayed away from the world while healing and recovering. Hell, if you asked him Party might even as gone as far as calling it a date. Soft muffled music playing in the diner below because Kobra and Jet are still home, although they’ve been playing a board-game, something old and rare that Dr D had loaned them- with Grace, and probably still are, as another shooting star zipps over head.

“…Starshine.”

Party Poison starts, as he looks down with a gentle smile, at the face of the man who’s head rests in his lap. “..If you keep looking at me, you’ll miss everything cool.”

[xx-party-poison-xx]

If the sense of adventure is dead then my is Ghoul getting into the car. Party gets into the drivers side, laughing a little as he listens to Fun Ghoul talk.

”we wouldn’t disintegrate- maybe just get turned a little inside out.” Gosh he;s only joking, but he’d heard of that happening with some ‘joy once and a fog anomaly beyond the limits of the mapped zones. Party’s baby rumbles to life beneath his hands once the keys have been taken from the footwell, seat belt clicked into place because he’s going off road and his ribs are already pretty bruised. But he can understand Oliver’s worry, they’ve been having a string of bad luck recently and even Party is hoping this isn’t going to be a continuation of that. The red can’t even promise that Ghoul would be safe with him anymore because of the amount of times he’s failed to protect the other man. “We gotta go though Starshine- get your seatbelt on.” Because the car is only so quiet and he can see the shadows of the others getting up from the game table.

Midnight Drive, RP @funghoulsayboom

“Did you see that?” It was a small zip through a calm starry desert night. The reds hair ruffling as slight breeze swept past, carrying with it the smell of distant camp fire…but the sands retain heat after the blistering day and release it slowly, so it’s warm out, no need for anything warmer than their usual outfits.

But it’s a night Party is glad for, because he’s sitting on a blanket up on the diner roof, a few pillows strewn around and Fun Ghoul laying on his back with his head in the reds lap. Party’s fingers working their way through his dark locks of hair. Jet had set this up, arranged soft things up there in such a way that it gave the two some private time outside and not inside, where they’d mostly stayed away from the world while healing and recovering. Hell, if you asked him Party might even as gone as far as calling it a date. Soft muffled music playing in the diner below because Kobra and Jet are still home, although they’ve been playing a board-game, something old and rare that Dr D had loaned them- with Grace, and probably still are, as another shooting star zipps over head.

“…Starshine.”

Party Poison starts, as he looks down with a gentle smile, at the face of the man who’s head rests in his lap. “..If you keep looking at me, you’ll miss everything cool.”

[xx-party-poison-xx]

Party laughs, offering Ghoul a hand up, from his guess it should be out by the airport, that abandoned strip of commercial air land, where the planes no longer arrive and depart. The deserts taken back most of it but you can still find bits of plane out there among the rocks.

Once the smaller killjoy is on his feet the red, moves the pillows and the blanket to one side of the roof where any passing winds can’t blow them away before someone comes to get them inside. ”it’s just a shooting star, babe- where’s your sense of adventure gone….what’s the worst than can happen?” Well aren’t they famous last words if anyones ever said them. His hand moves across Ghoul’s waist as he passed behind him, heading towards the ladder at the side of the diner roof, he slides down it near effortlessly and scuffs the ground lightly on landing.

The Am’s keys should still be tucked into the drivers side footwell, just by the door, where he keeps them after having lost the damn things several times in the past when the group really needed to use the car…sure, leaving it unlocked is basically asking for it to be stolen but if anyone took Party Poison’s car they’d be stupid. He’s careful to quietly open the door with the softest of clicks and is glad for the fact he’d oiled the hinges recently and now she no longer squeaks on use.

Midnight Drive, RP @funghoulsayboom

“Did you see that?” It was a small zip through a calm starry desert night. The reds hair ruffling as slight breeze swept past, carrying with it the smell of distant camp fire…but the sands retain heat after the blistering day and release it slowly, so it’s warm out, no need for anything warmer than their usual outfits.

But it’s a night Party is glad for, because he’s sitting on a blanket up on the diner roof, a few pillows strewn around and Fun Ghoul laying on his back with his head in the reds lap. Party’s fingers working their way through his dark locks of hair. Jet had set this up, arranged soft things up there in such a way that it gave the two some private time outside and not inside, where they’d mostly stayed away from the world while healing and recovering. Hell, if you asked him Party might even as gone as far as calling it a date. Soft muffled music playing in the diner below because Kobra and Jet are still home, although they’ve been playing a board-game, something old and rare that Dr D had loaned them- with Grace, and probably still are, as another shooting star zipps over head.

“…Starshine.”

Party Poison starts, as he looks down with a gentle smile, at the face of the man who’s head rests in his lap. “..If you keep looking at me, you’ll miss everything cool.”

[xx-party-poison-xx]

While Ghoul might be worried, Party’s expression is more that of a dangerous childlike wonder. Like the gears in his head are turning and he’s considering doing something potentially stupid. ”That looks exciting.”

That’s the most exciting thing he’s seen since the storm, and compared to Shrike that storm hadn’t even been that bad really. “I don’t know how far away that is- but I’m up for a drive, what about you?” He knows Ghoul would come with him regardless of if he really wanted too or not, because they’re never usually that far from each other at all these days. Party rises to his feet, stretching, but not too hard, as his ribs are still pretty fucked up but it’s enough to feel like he hasn’t been sitting too long in one place. They just have to drive off road in a direct line he thinks, towards the glow in the horizon and hope no one else has the same idea. Jet and Kobra are going to kill them for leaving the diner when they’re both still looking like they were dragged in the wars but if the red dosnt do something fun, and not just do Fun. He might actually go a bit more crazy.

Midnight Drive, RP @funghoulsayboom

“Did you see that?” It was a small zip through a calm starry desert night. The reds hair ruffling as slight breeze swept past, carrying with it the smell of distant camp fire…but the sands retain heat after the blistering day and release it slowly, so it’s warm out, no need for anything warmer than their usual outfits.

But it’s a night Party is glad for, because he’s sitting on a blanket up on the diner roof, a few pillows strewn around and Fun Ghoul laying on his back with his head in the reds lap. Party’s fingers working their way through his dark locks of hair. Jet had set this up, arranged soft things up there in such a way that it gave the two some private time outside and not inside, where they’d mostly stayed away from the world while healing and recovering. Hell, if you asked him Party might even as gone as far as calling it a date. Soft muffled music playing in the diner below because Kobra and Jet are still home, although they’ve been playing a board-game, something old and rare that Dr D had loaned them- with Grace, and probably still are, as another shooting star zipps over head.

“…Starshine.”

Party Poison starts, as he looks down with a gentle smile, at the face of the man who’s head rests in his lap. “..If you keep looking at me, you’ll miss everything cool.”

[xx-party-poison-xx]

Well at least Fun Ghoul finds him cool, Party couldn’t really ask for a better outcome than that. Because what kind of person pulls you through hell several times in the last three months. A cool one, apparently.

Party leans over, down to Ghoul’s face where he can place an upside down kiss to his boyfriends lips, shit even thinking of Ghoul now with that word makes the red all kinds of giddy. But his eyes linger when he rises again, there on where he knows that brand sit, still red and angry under the fabric. They’ve been doing all they can but it’s still likely to scar, and Party had smashed the shit out of the taken white ray gun that the others had wanted to keep as a spare but the red refused to have anywhere inside the diner.

“You having a good time though?” Party felt the need to ask, star gazing, wondering what’s out there, wondering if the people on the space station were still a live after all these years, it was always more his thing than Ghoul’s. Honestly though Party *could* improve on the fun but they’d practically promised Jet they’d not do anything out in the exposed open, even if on the roof is an interesting locati- Another few satellites fall, all around the same time and his eyes are on them, watching their descent to earth. Surely there aren’t that many left by now? But given the state of things going before the war there’s probably a hell of a lot more than he realises.

Then Suddenly there’s an even brighter streak, clear over their heads, in an easterly direction with a low screaming noise, how Party did’t see it till it almost landed on them would be anyones guess, but it hits land somewhere on the mid horizon, illuminating the dark briefly on its impact.

Midnight Drive, RP @funghoulsayboom

“Did you see that?” It was a small zip through a calm starry desert night. The reds hair ruffling as slight breeze swept past, carrying with it the smell of distant camp fire…but the sands retain heat after the blistering day and release it slowly, so it’s warm out, no need for anything warmer than their usual outfits.

But it’s a night Party is glad for, because he’s sitting on a blanket up on the diner roof, a few pillows strewn around and Fun Ghoul laying on his back with his head in the reds lap. Party’s fingers working their way through his dark locks of hair. Jet had set this up, arranged soft things up there in such a way that it gave the two some private time outside and not inside, where they’d mostly stayed away from the world while healing and recovering. Hell, if you asked him Party might even as gone as far as calling it a date. Soft muffled music playing in the diner below because Kobra and Jet are still home, although they’ve been playing a board-game, something old and rare that Dr D had loaned them- with Grace, and probably still are, as another shooting star zipps over head.

“…Starshine.”

Party Poison starts, as he looks down with a gentle smile, at the face of the man who’s head rests in his lap. “..If you keep looking at me, you’ll miss everything cool.”

[xx-party-poison-xx]

Midnight Drive, RP @funghoulsayboom

“Did you see that?” It was a small zip through a calm starry desert night. The reds hair ruffling as slight breeze swept past, carrying with it the smell of distant camp fire…but the sands retain heat after the blistering day and release it slowly, so it’s warm out, no need for anything warmer than their usual outfits.

But it’s a night Party is glad for, because he’s sitting on a blanket up on the diner roof, a few pillows strewn around and Fun Ghoul laying on his back with his head in the reds lap. Party’s fingers working their way through his dark locks of hair. Jet had set this up, arranged soft things up there in such a way that it gave the two some private time outside and not inside, where they’d mostly stayed away from the world while healing and recovering. Hell, if you asked him Party might even as gone as far as calling it a date. Soft muffled music playing in the diner below because Kobra and Jet are still home, although they’ve been playing a board-game, something old and rare that Dr D had loaned them- with Grace, and probably still are, as another shooting star zipps over head.

“…Starshine.”

Party Poison starts, as he looks down with a gentle smile, at the face of the man who’s head rests in his lap. “..If you keep looking at me, you’ll miss everything cool.”

[xx-party-poison-xx]

The red, had, had a feeling Ghoul might say something like that, but the expression he’d get back from Party is nothing but soft. He’s never been more happy in fact to see one of Ghoul’s little ‘don’t even think about it’ expressions. Party had shut his eyes for a few seconds, lulled by the sounds of both of them wheezy breathing. Honestly on some level he’s mourning it too, as well that sense of normality they’d created before the massive invasion of privacy. At least he got a marshmallowy duvet and a boyfriend out of it though, even if one of them is still sitting in the trunk of the trans am. With whatever else they’d taken, which in his book is only a fraction of making up for it but at least they’ll hopefully smell like rose and vanilla for the next, however long the bottles last for. A tightening of fingers, his *real* name spoken from Ghoul’s lips, he returns it, softy. ”It’s ok, Ollie, I’m here.” and he won’t be going anywhere for a long time if he can help it. —end thread—

Thunderheads Pt. 4

(Another continuation of the original thread, Pt 3 can be found here!) @xx-party-poison-xx

It's all a flash of red suddenly, a blur, the sound of a blaster going off, screaming, a body slumping, and then he's being released, the dracs backing off, and Ghoul takes the moment grasp desperately at his throat, which is bleeding at an alarming rate onto his shirt. He can't tell how deep it is.

"Party--" he starts, but he cuts himself off, because now is not the fucking time. Words later. Actions now.

He's rushing up onto his feet and he darts to the place that Shrike had stored their guns and holsters. Ghoul grabs both of them, powering his own blaster on and pointing it out in front of him, shifting the site between the dracs who have all backed down.

Party has Shrike pinned to the floor, and he's covered in blood from the drac he's just taken down. He looks dangerous, like an animal. Oliver loves him.

"The car." Is all he says, passing close to where the man is kneeling on the ground. He hands him his gun and walks backwards toward the Trans Am, keeping his own weapon trained on each drac in turn as he goes.

[xx-party-poison-xx]

Party’s fingers curl into the fabric of the shirt Ghoul is wearing, when he’d thrown Shrike from the other man he had not thought much about the knife other than to get it off her. So he still feels at-least partly responsible for it. But it’s over now and they’re here and Ghoul is right about the medical supplies. When he’s in pain Party tends to chew painkillers like they’re candy, and now there’s two of them doing it…

”You mean me- I’m going to have to go for a run.” But really it’s more like Kobra or Jet, or both, if they dare leave the two alone injured like this…right now they’re both up on the roof on high alert like a couple of highly trained guard dogs, and Party is thankful for it.

Because the red is just glad to be alive with his boyfriend laying beside him. Shrike is still alive though, Party isn’t sure he can rest easy because of it…really if he wasn’t injured he’d probably- stupidly, go out right now and hunt her down- but no, even he knows that’s dangerous thinking especially when injured, if he’s not careful he’ll get obsessed with it too. He’s done it before, spent entire weeks on edge and easily irritated just because he hadn’t finished something properly. ”…I should let you get some more sleep.” Heck Party should be doing that too, things would feel better

Thunderheads Pt. 4

(Another continuation of the original thread, Pt 3 can be found here!) @xx-party-poison-xx

It's all a flash of red suddenly, a blur, the sound of a blaster going off, screaming, a body slumping, and then he's being released, the dracs backing off, and Ghoul takes the moment grasp desperately at his throat, which is bleeding at an alarming rate onto his shirt. He can't tell how deep it is.

"Party--" he starts, but he cuts himself off, because now is not the fucking time. Words later. Actions now.

He's rushing up onto his feet and he darts to the place that Shrike had stored their guns and holsters. Ghoul grabs both of them, powering his own blaster on and pointing it out in front of him, shifting the site between the dracs who have all backed down.

Party has Shrike pinned to the floor, and he's covered in blood from the drac he's just taken down. He looks dangerous, like an animal. Oliver loves him.

"The car." Is all he says, passing close to where the man is kneeling on the ground. He hands him his gun and walks backwards toward the Trans Am, keeping his own weapon trained on each drac in turn as he goes.

[xx-party-poison-xx]

Party can’t help the flinch when Ghoul snapped his words like a nervous animal gnashing it’s teeth, they’ve been through hell, and sometimes the red is poor with words- so he quite frankly deserved that..

He sucks on a breath of air and had to consider the words carefully, while Party would have preferred, at least to start with, keep stuff just between them, with BLi knowing, it’s likely it’s already public knowledge, once killjoy hackers get updated data files it’ll spread in the rumour mill like wild fire that Party Poison, is finally off the market. “Boyfriend.” He answers, “I’m *your* boyfriend” but even the red knows whatever bond they forged ran deeper than just that, partner could be used to..but then there isn’t really a word for what he feels he is with Ghoul that describes it enough. But his name, he’d like to hear it, patch over the gaps he’d put between the person he became and the person he once was, a healing path, Jet would probably call it. ”and only if I can use yours.” That’s the only condition, the want to take back the names that Shrike had sullied so badly.

Thunderheads Pt. 4

(Another continuation of the original thread, Pt 3 can be found here!) @xx-party-poison-xx

It's all a flash of red suddenly, a blur, the sound of a blaster going off, screaming, a body slumping, and then he's being released, the dracs backing off, and Ghoul takes the moment grasp desperately at his throat, which is bleeding at an alarming rate onto his shirt. He can't tell how deep it is.

"Party--" he starts, but he cuts himself off, because now is not the fucking time. Words later. Actions now.

He's rushing up onto his feet and he darts to the place that Shrike had stored their guns and holsters. Ghoul grabs both of them, powering his own blaster on and pointing it out in front of him, shifting the site between the dracs who have all backed down.

Party has Shrike pinned to the floor, and he's covered in blood from the drac he's just taken down. He looks dangerous, like an animal. Oliver loves him.

"The car." Is all he says, passing close to where the man is kneeling on the ground. He hands him his gun and walks backwards toward the Trans Am, keeping his own weapon trained on each drac in turn as he goes.

[xx-party-poison-xx]

What are we. ”We’re alive.” He’d started, knowing damn well that wasn’t at all what Ghoul meant, he’d caught how the other man had stopped himself from saying his name, the one Party had given to him, his own special gift, the symbolic promise of being Oliver’s and Oliver’s only.

BLI ruined it by tearing it away from them, much like tearing the wings off a butterfly. ”Nothing-“ Nothing bad anyway, he wants this still, he wants Ghoul and all the touches and the kisses and the selfish desire to be loved in the middle of an otherwise un-loving world. If Ghoul still wants that anyway… ”We stick together, like Jet and Kobra do.” But Jet and Kobra had exchanged names years ago without BLi snatching them away. “I didn’t give you everything, I didn’t give you *me*- just for you to back out now.” He sounds annoyed, but it’s just anger at Shrike that hasn’t faded and he’s carrying the regret of not getting his satisfaction by killing her just because he’d used her life as barter for Ghoul’s.

But Party knows the zones mentally do him no favours, he was different in the bunker, or so he thinks, calmer, more chilled out, he;d not had the constant need to be in full on survival mode that kept him unstable…

However if Ghoul can stick by him even with BL/I knowing everything, wouldn’t that be the biggest fuck you they can give the company? He thinks so.

Thunderheads Pt. 4

(Another continuation of the original thread, Pt 3 can be found here!) @xx-party-poison-xx

It's all a flash of red suddenly, a blur, the sound of a blaster going off, screaming, a body slumping, and then he's being released, the dracs backing off, and Ghoul takes the moment grasp desperately at his throat, which is bleeding at an alarming rate onto his shirt. He can't tell how deep it is.

"Party--" he starts, but he cuts himself off, because now is not the fucking time. Words later. Actions now.

He's rushing up onto his feet and he darts to the place that Shrike had stored their guns and holsters. Ghoul grabs both of them, powering his own blaster on and pointing it out in front of him, shifting the site between the dracs who have all backed down.

Party has Shrike pinned to the floor, and he's covered in blood from the drac he's just taken down. He looks dangerous, like an animal. Oliver loves him.

"The car." Is all he says, passing close to where the man is kneeling on the ground. He hands him his gun and walks backwards toward the Trans Am, keeping his own weapon trained on each drac in turn as he goes.

[xx-party-poison-xx]

There’s not much to say, at least nothing Party can think of, a wealth of ‘I’m sorry’ held back because he knows this wasn’t really his fault, how was he supposed to know the bunker was a trap, that Lorikeet one of their own, was a traitor.

That BL/I would hear everything and he dreads to think if they saw it too. With the door slammed shut harder than needed, Party Poison drives them home and leaves use of any name other than the ones they chose, behind them. It’s not safe to be anyone else, that’s been proven now and it’s likely they’d have Kobra’s records too..his medical history… the medication for epilepsy was becoming harder and harder to find in the zones for the red jacketed killjoy as it was. If BL/I get stricter on security at their end of the supply chain... They’d arrived home swiftly, Jet and Kobra rushing out to greet them only to gawk in horror for dragged out seconds upon catching sight of the state the two were in. The one eyed killjoy, the best medic they had, it took Jet hours and almost all the good supplies to fix them up. Party is laying on the mattress in his and Ghoul’s room(what had once been a walk in pantry at the diner and the most secluded space they had), later, bandages while and clean around a head wound he’d not even known he’d had and the eye that had swollen was considerably less so. The sclera of it however was red and blood ruptured and it was hard to focus..that one drac had hit him so hard but he’s still watching Fun Ghoul breathe beside him regardless. Reaching out a hand to gently rest it on the man’s chest, he’s trying to not disturb him, but right now if he’s anything like the red, the best he can do is sleep lightly. Party Poison is just glad they’re both alive.

Thunderheads Pt. 4

(Another continuation of the original thread, Pt 3 can be found here!) @xx-party-poison-xx

It's all a flash of red suddenly, a blur, the sound of a blaster going off, screaming, a body slumping, and then he's being released, the dracs backing off, and Ghoul takes the moment grasp desperately at his throat, which is bleeding at an alarming rate onto his shirt. He can't tell how deep it is.

"Party--" he starts, but he cuts himself off, because now is not the fucking time. Words later. Actions now.

He's rushing up onto his feet and he darts to the place that Shrike had stored their guns and holsters. Ghoul grabs both of them, powering his own blaster on and pointing it out in front of him, shifting the site between the dracs who have all backed down.

Party has Shrike pinned to the floor, and he's covered in blood from the drac he's just taken down. He looks dangerous, like an animal. Oliver loves him.

"The car." Is all he says, passing close to where the man is kneeling on the ground. He hands him his gun and walks backwards toward the Trans Am, keeping his own weapon trained on each drac in turn as he goes.

[xx-party-poison-xx]

“You’ll have to keep a lot of pressure on it.”

He’s moved his hand, now coated in Ghoul’s blood to wad up gauze. “Ollie.” Strong but firm, he needs to make it clear that Fun Ghoul absolutely cannot bleed out before they get home. But he watches for a reaction, before handing the wad to the other killjoy and gets out of the car to make swapping to the drivers side easier. Ghoul would have to just shinny across the seats. But the name felt wrong now, like he shouldn’t, can’t and likely won’t use it anymore from now on. Not after that, not now that he’s paranoid about BLi having ears everywhere…he’ll have to check the car for trackers later too, or get Kobra to do it. Because shit, pain has started to settle into his bones and Party might have to just rest a while. Jet is going to be so pissed, he thinks, urging Ghoul to scoot as he gets into the drivers seat.

Thunderheads Pt. 4

(Another continuation of the original thread, Pt 3 can be found here!) @xx-party-poison-xx

It's all a flash of red suddenly, a blur, the sound of a blaster going off, screaming, a body slumping, and then he's being released, the dracs backing off, and Ghoul takes the moment grasp desperately at his throat, which is bleeding at an alarming rate onto his shirt. He can't tell how deep it is.

"Party--" he starts, but he cuts himself off, because now is not the fucking time. Words later. Actions now.

He's rushing up onto his feet and he darts to the place that Shrike had stored their guns and holsters. Ghoul grabs both of them, powering his own blaster on and pointing it out in front of him, shifting the site between the dracs who have all backed down.

Party has Shrike pinned to the floor, and he's covered in blood from the drac he's just taken down. He looks dangerous, like an animal. Oliver loves him.

"The car." Is all he says, passing close to where the man is kneeling on the ground. He hands him his gun and walks backwards toward the Trans Am, keeping his own weapon trained on each drac in turn as he goes.

[xx-party-poison-xx]

Party is aware of the distance travelled, the speed they move at, no one chased them, no one shot. Shrike keeping her silent promise was probably the most honourable thing she’d ever done in her pathetic little life.

Its only when they’re far enough away does he even start to surface out of his fight state, the anger bubbling out to a semi-dissociative state, nothing feels real- heck he’s struggling to feel real but the one thing that was, was the blood running down Ghoul’s throat. Is it worse than it looks? God he hopes so, urging the green killjoy to pull over as he shifts and turns in his seat to press a hand over Ghoul’s throat.

There’s a mini medical kit in the glove box, his other hand grabs it, and he’s sure they can afford a few moments to at least deal with that one thing before continuing, after all, Ghoul passing out at the wheel and killing them both would suck.

“I’m sorry sweetheart.” He gets out, whispered and concerned, Party took a beating yes, but he’s not the one branded like cattle and bleeding from his throat while trying to drive.

Thunderheads Pt. 4

(Another continuation of the original thread, Pt 3 can be found here!) @xx-party-poison-xx

It's all a flash of red suddenly, a blur, the sound of a blaster going off, screaming, a body slumping, and then he's being released, the dracs backing off, and Ghoul takes the moment grasp desperately at his throat, which is bleeding at an alarming rate onto his shirt. He can't tell how deep it is.

"Party--" he starts, but he cuts himself off, because now is not the fucking time. Words later. Actions now.

He's rushing up onto his feet and he darts to the place that Shrike had stored their guns and holsters. Ghoul grabs both of them, powering his own blaster on and pointing it out in front of him, shifting the site between the dracs who have all backed down.

Party has Shrike pinned to the floor, and he's covered in blood from the drac he's just taken down. He looks dangerous, like an animal. Oliver loves him.

"The car." Is all he says, passing close to where the man is kneeling on the ground. He hands him his gun and walks backwards toward the Trans Am, keeping his own weapon trained on each drac in turn as he goes.

[xx-party-poison-xx]

The knife digs only a little into Shrike’s throat, a reminder as Party hears that nickname, it’s time to go, it’s time to go now.

He seemingly has Shrike released from his grip and her gun in hand within the same second, fully aware of the sickening smell of burnt flesh coming from the barrel as he aims it to any drac who might dare move and even Shrike herself. No one does. The Red managing to get in the car and get the door shut successfully only just becoming aware of the laser injury to his leg but at this point it’s just another problem to the pile. His right eye, the one where he’s sure he’d felt vessels burst internally earlier has swollen up around the outside. But he’ll also be glad to get out of this place, and now he knows if he’ll not be coming back either, not unless he had to and not without extra man power and enough explosives to send it into oblivion. One hand taps Fun Ghoul’s leg, an unspoken signal as Party puts effort into regulating his breathing enough to bring his still raging mind to a more sensible logical level.

Thunderheads Pt. 4

(Another continuation of the original thread, Pt 3 can be found here!) @xx-party-poison-xx

It's all a flash of red suddenly, a blur, the sound of a blaster going off, screaming, a body slumping, and then he's being released, the dracs backing off, and Ghoul takes the moment grasp desperately at his throat, which is bleeding at an alarming rate onto his shirt. He can't tell how deep it is.

"Party--" he starts, but he cuts himself off, because now is not the fucking time. Words later. Actions now.

He's rushing up onto his feet and he darts to the place that Shrike had stored their guns and holsters. Ghoul grabs both of them, powering his own blaster on and pointing it out in front of him, shifting the site between the dracs who have all backed down.

Party has Shrike pinned to the floor, and he's covered in blood from the drac he's just taken down. He looks dangerous, like an animal. Oliver loves him.

"The car." Is all he says, passing close to where the man is kneeling on the ground. He hands him his gun and walks backwards toward the Trans Am, keeping his own weapon trained on each drac in turn as he goes.

[xx-party-poison-xx]

“It’s open” Party spoke, addressing Fun Ghoul without taking his eyes off Shrike, neither does he ease the pressure on the knife. He can’t see Ghoul’s throat damage from here, but he’d heard his name previously and mention of the car.

“You drive her.” He’ll make sure Shrike stays down until the last second, and for Party to allow the green Killjoy to drive, the situation must really be important. The spare keys are hidden in the drivers side footwell, as the red can’t give Ghoul his set as his hands are both busy.

The way Shrike remains quiet I beneath the red her focus on keeping her position still, he can’t tell if she’s in pain from a very broken arm of or she’s trying to come up with any sort of plan. ”This is how it’s going to go,” He’s talking to her again, his eyes voice horrendously calm, “we leave- you don’t follow, I let you keep your life.” But he needs the Trans Am revved and ready to go because he’s going to have to release her at only the last second.

Thunderheads Pt. 4

(Another continuation of the original thread, Pt 3 can be found here!) @xx-party-poison-xx

It's all a flash of red suddenly, a blur, the sound of a blaster going off, screaming, a body slumping, and then he's being released, the dracs backing off, and Ghoul takes the moment grasp desperately at his throat, which is bleeding at an alarming rate onto his shirt. He can't tell how deep it is.

"Party--" he starts, but he cuts himself off, because now is not the fucking time. Words later. Actions now.

He's rushing up onto his feet and he darts to the place that Shrike had stored their guns and holsters. Ghoul grabs both of them, powering his own blaster on and pointing it out in front of him, shifting the site between the dracs who have all backed down.

Party has Shrike pinned to the floor, and he's covered in blood from the drac he's just taken down. He looks dangerous, like an animal. Oliver loves him.

"The car." Is all he says, passing close to where the man is kneeling on the ground. He hands him his gun and walks backwards toward the Trans Am, keeping his own weapon trained on each drac in turn as he goes.

[xx-party-poison-xx]

Party Poison had never really considered himself an angry man, preferring to try and keep his cool in situations such as this where his emotions could, potentially shut him down, or just down right scared him.

But sometimes there comes a situation when anger is all you really have. When Everything he’s bottled up against BL/I becomes uncorked and spills over with a deadly wave far more pronounced than the frustrated outburst that had ended up with Ghoul pinned against the Trans Am No this runs deeper than that, a grudge against the white company that had taken so much already and given him back so *little*. And now they’re threatening to take his Oliver away from him too. A name which had no right being in the mouth of that bitch. Shrike is a woman who enjoys what she’s doing a little too heavy much, Party can tell from the way she holds herself, the way she talks, the way she watches his lover writhe around and scream in a way he never wanted to hear again for as long as he lived. “Or I brand little Oliver here until he's more BLI than ink." Just some of many words heard through the blood rushing through his ears. No one’s really paying attention to the red as the jagged metal finally breaks off into his hands. Party can hear Ghoul yelling, telling her to stop saying his name, to stop defiling something that had been so good between just the two of them. But of course they’d be on file, BL/I has files on everyone, that’s why you use code names, that’s why you stay hidden, because to Bli you don’t exist if you don’t match word for word with the things they think they know about you. “Such a pretty face. Except for this."

She’s wrong, Shrike is wrong and Party wants to scream it, to shout it out to drown out her venomous words and psychological claws, the one thing Ghoul hates and Party loves, the scar on his face, that he had placed so many kisses on over the last few days. But oh how all of the things he can hear cause his veins ignite with a primal rage that rises from deeper than any miscommunication he’s ever had with the other killjoy- the killjoy he’d kill for if he so much as asked, not that he really needs to ask. That broken, pained looked was all it took, their eyes meeting for the shortest of seconds before what could only be described as a roar. Tears from the red, actions instinctual, he’s slender and lithe and moves like a predatory animal. Dispatches the Draculoid who’d held him back in little more than a handful of seconds and a spray of blood. Party Poison always joked that his hair is dyed with the blood of his enemies, and it right now it may as well be true. Charging across the small space of the garage with a speed not usually displayed, laser fire narrowly missing his form. It was all or nothing for him, hands gripping the back of Shrikes white coat, wrenching her away from Fun Ghoul and to the ground, there’s a Drac slumping that’d held him, that short metal bar hurting out of an eye. It wasn’t even clear when Party had thrown it but he’s got Shrike held down, her own knife against her throat. The blaster fire ceases, Draculoid won’t harm their leader, it’s against part of the mind programming. “Let. Him. Go.” Party’s words are just as deadly as the scene that had taken place, he’s breathing hard but he’s in control of everything now. No one wants to die, not really, not even a shitty scarecrow like Shrike who dare not move without severing her own jugular. He can only hope Fun Ghoul has the strength in his to get away, or even just into the trans am, with her doors unlocked, that should be safe enough, Shrike gives the signal with her hand and the last few of her men back away from Fun Ghoul and the red monster that has their boss pinned down by her throat against the concrete floor of the garage.

Thunderheads pt. 3

A continuation of the thread linked here <3

@xx-party-poison-xx

His names sounds like bells on the other man's lips, and it actually pulls a giggle out of Ghoul's throat. It sounds so unlike any of the other millions of times he's heard his name in his life. Party says it like it's some sort of magical thing. Like it's music. Like it's beautiful.

Ghoul bites at his lip, and lets out this long sigh of relief. Something has shifted. With only two words, their names, something between them has shifted in a way that he knows is irreversible. There is no going back from this, and while it's terrifying, he's fairly confident that he's never felt so sure of anything in his life.

"I like it when you say it," He tells the other man with that same excited smile. "A lot, actually." He moves now, until he can crawl nearly into Party's lap. "Say it again."

[xx-party-poison-xx]

Sweet Ollie

Lingers in Party’s mind, no one was allowed to say his name like that. They were private, special, sacred, words between the two of them, words they’ll potentially never use again once they leave this place.

A slow rage starts to boil, bubble under the reds skin and he locks eyes with Shrike when she addresses him with the sane questions she’d been giving Fun Ghoul not too long ago. Like hell he’s gonna tell her anything, working still to get that shard of metal loose without anyone realising. He needs a weapon, because they’ve taken the blasters out of reach, and Party poison considers his battles lost only when he’s stopped breathing. But given how he wheezes in his chest on every inwards breath might be a possibility on the horizon. ”Go. Fuck. Yourself. Bitch.” He isn’t giving her anything, but there’s both guilt and rage that ignights in Party’s gut when he hears Ghoul’s pain, and the sound of wretching as he hurls up the remnants of yesterdays meal. That metal is almost completely free, he just needs another second, eyes glancing in Ghoul’s direction and it just further gives away how much they mean to each other. Shrike sees it, that look, turning away from Party with a tutting sound. ”I see how it is red, didn’t anyone teach you virmin to not fall in love out here.” He didn’t even realise there was a white blaster holstered on her thigh, under the skirt of her outfit. But she’s flicking it on and signalling for someone to get Fun Ghoul to his feet.

‘If you arn’t going to cooperate we’re just going to have to do this the hard way- “ She’s over charging that gun- Party would recognise the noise anywhere, the barrel where the BL/ind logo is raised from the surface will get ridiculously hot. His eyes go wide, but heavy hands on his shoulders keep the red firmly in place. ”-you see, my family once kept cattle before the war, and do you know how we would keep them in line? “ they brand them. Shrike is reaching to lift Ghoul’s shirt, asking Party once again but he’s still stubborn, whispering an ‘I’m so sorry baby.’ under his breath, but he know’s Ghoul can’t hear it from where they’re both placed far apart.

“Tell me! Where is Deathdefying?!” “Go to hell !”

Wrong answer red and Party can could only watch in horror and boiling rage as Shrike presses the over charged barrel against Fun Ghoul’s stomach.

Thunderheads pt. 3

A continuation of the thread linked here <3

@xx-party-poison-xx

His names sounds like bells on the other man's lips, and it actually pulls a giggle out of Ghoul's throat. It sounds so unlike any of the other millions of times he's heard his name in his life. Party says it like it's some sort of magical thing. Like it's music. Like it's beautiful.

Ghoul bites at his lip, and lets out this long sigh of relief. Something has shifted. With only two words, their names, something between them has shifted in a way that he knows is irreversible. There is no going back from this, and while it's terrifying, he's fairly confident that he's never felt so sure of anything in his life.

"I like it when you say it," He tells the other man with that same excited smile. "A lot, actually." He moves now, until he can crawl nearly into Party's lap. "Say it again."