1 - 2 - 3 - 4, I declare a fic war!
What: Tumblr Fic War
Who: Anyone who reblogs this post.
When: Until everyone is actualfax dead, because this is WAR suckers!
Why: FEELINGS
What: Everyone who reblogs this post is opening their ask box up to the most brutal, feelings-inducing prompts anyone who is playing can imagine. Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to take those prompts and DESTROY EVERYONE with them. Not just angsty stuff either, fluff can be just as bad, as many of you know!
I like telling stories…Some of them might even be true.
In a Garden? At this hour?
“You hear my just fine. You misunderstand tradition. In order for one to have tradition, one must belong to some group of people with which a tradition is shared and passed down. Your people are not my people, my dear.”
She nods slowly. “Right. Alright. I think I understand. Either that, or I know I”ll never understand. Is it that as tradition, you must eat with ‘your people?’ Forgive me if I still misunderstand or misinterpret your words. In fact, this one of the only times I’ve done that in succession…”
“Something like that,” she chuckled. “You are mighty polite. Why is that? Who am I to you but some strange person you met in a garden. Why do I deserve your politeness?”
In a Garden? At this hour?
feigningmadness:
“Nope,” she said plainly. “It’s a an alley. It’s where I am choosing to wait.”
“What are you waiting for then?” She says, leaning against the opposite wall.
She sighed deeply. “Dinner. It’d be too awkward to get dinner with you. We’ve been talking too long for that.”
“Why is that so? I’d think that would be the opposite traditionally. Due to the fact that on normally asks another to dinner if they get to know them… Or am I mishearing you?”
“You hear my just fine. You misunderstand tradition. In order for one to have tradition, one must belong to some group of people with which a tradition is shared and passed down. Your people are not my people, my dear.”
In a Garden? At this hour?
feigningmadness:
“Nope,” she said plainly. “It’s a an alley. It’s where I am choosing to wait.”
“What are you waiting for then?” She says, leaning against the opposite wall.
She sighed deeply. “Dinner. It’d be too awkward to get dinner with you. We’ve been talking too long for that.”
In a Garden? At this hour?
“Very well,” she curled a finger over her shoulder as she walked away. She walked through the garden, made her way through some busy streets, some empty ones too, until she found herself in an alley. She looked up. There was a neon sign above one of them. It was flickering. She leaned against one of the walls. “This is where I am for now.”
Kayla nods a little, watching that finger over her shoulder. She though it a peculiar movement. Though, the situation here was anything but normal, she had to admit. She followed her with little words, taking in the scenery. It felt familiar, yet unfamiliar. She thought most streets looked the same sometimes, and some looked spectacularly distinct. Before she knew it, she was in that alley. She looked up at the sign, then at the girl. “Ah, alright. Is this a hotel?”
“Nope,” she said plainly. “It’s a an alley. It’s where I am choosing to wait.”
In a Garden? At this hour?
“Your options are to flee, submit or follow. That is all there is…at least that I can think of…I suppose there is always torture as well…but I’m rarely interested in such nonesense.”
Kayla looks up, considering these given option. “Well, torture’s obviously out. Well, I think follow is the option I’m taking for now. I’m a bit lost, so maybe if I just find my way again, things’ll work out.”
“Very well,” she curled a finger over her shoulder as she walked away. She walked through the garden, made her way through some busy streets, some empty ones too, until she found herself in an alley. She looked up. There was a neon sign above one of them. It was flickering. She leaned against one of the walls. “This is where I am for now.”
New City. New Shoes.
“Not a clue,” she shrugged. “I just walk wherever my feet take me. Not real fascinating, I’m aware, but that’s the way I work, I suppose. Just looking for the next thing, big or small. You?”
“So.. you just go anywhere? Not even really caring where you end up? Don’t you have family? Friends? A home? Most people have somewhere to be.. and I’m sure if you just wander wherever, people are going to worry about you..”
“No one worries about me. There is no one to worry. Family is long dead. Home is long gone. All that’s left is adventure and the dream of a purpose.”
Havoc blinked hard, biting his lip. That was.. sad.. he didn’t really know how to help with that. “..no one? nothing?” He said softly, “Surely there must be someone.. it’s hard to believe that there is absolutely no one.”
“Absolutely no one.” She leaned back in her chair some and rested the backs of her arms on the top of her chair supporting her neck as she looked at him. “People die. It’s sad, but it doesn’t inhibit one from moving forward. I don’t even think on it anymore. I couldn’t if I wanted to,” she said as she lightly knocked herself on the head.
New City. New Shoes.
“That is all I really care about,” she said as she exhaled and leaned back into her seat. “You can order you know?” she asked. She had sort of expected him to by now. “I told you, I won’t be eating.”
He smiled lightly, but it was more forced. Nodding to her, he motioned to a waitress. As the woman came there, he gave off a simple order before turning back to her, “So.. how did you end up in Central?”
“Not a clue,” she shrugged. “I just walk wherever my feet take me. Not real fascinating, I’m aware, but that’s the way I work, I suppose. Just looking for the next thing, big or small. You?”
“So.. you just go anywhere? Not even really caring where you end up? Don’t you have family? Friends? A home? Most people have somewhere to be.. and I’m sure if you just wander wherever, people are going to worry about you..”
“No one worries about me. There is no one to worry. Family is long dead. Home is long gone. All that’s left is adventure and the dream of a purpose.”
New City. New Shoes.
“That is all I really care about,” she said as she exhaled and leaned back into her seat. “You can order you know?” she asked. She had sort of expected him to by now. “I told you, I won’t be eating.”
He smiled lightly, but it was more forced. Nodding to her, he motioned to a waitress. As the woman came there, he gave off a simple order before turning back to her, “So.. how did you end up in Central?”
“Not a clue,” she shrugged. “I just walk wherever my feet take me. Not real fascinating, I’m aware, but that’s the way I work, I suppose. Just looking for the next thing, big or small. You?”
(reblog this if you are a RP-er that doesn’t mind people coming in your inbox to RP~)
New City. New Shoes.
“What subtracts from your friendliness?” She cocked her head and eyed him with the innocent intrigue of a child.
His eyes shifted to her again, the blue orbs slightly curious and confused again. “Many things. Though, I can’t really get too.. in depth with them, since you haven’t known me long enough, nor do you know me well enough— considering we’ve just met. Though, if you wanna stick around, you’ll soon find lots subtracts from my friendliness.”
“You a backstabber?” She asked her question rather bluntly. Her dark eyes peered from behind the dark curls that were hanging in her face. “Cause that’s the only one I care about.” It was a lie of course, but the only other thing she cared about was something she could easily handle on her own should it arise and she didn’t feel like explaining it.
Blinking hard, he turned to her, raising his hands up defensively, “N-no! I’m not, not at all!” After a moment, he let out a sigh of relief. ”I’m very loyal, trustworthy and I do all I can to help people.. though that doesn’t mean I’m a fully ‘good’ person. I would never betray anybody, but, still..” He went quiet after, thinking over his life and the things that had happened.. he didn’t think anyone would see too far down, but, maybe they all secretly could?
“That is all I really care about,” she said as she exhaled and leaned back into her seat. “You can order you know?” she asked. She had sort of expected him to by now. “I told you, I won’t be eating.”
New City. New Shoes.
“What subtracts from your friendliness?” She cocked her head and eyed him with the innocent intrigue of a child.
His eyes shifted to her again, the blue orbs slightly curious and confused again. “Many things. Though, I can’t really get too.. in depth with them, since you haven’t known me long enough, nor do you know me well enough— considering we’ve just met. Though, if you wanna stick around, you’ll soon find lots subtracts from my friendliness.”
“You a backstabber?” She asked her question rather bluntly. Her dark eyes peered from behind the dark curls that were hanging in her face. “Cause that’s the only one I care about.” It was a lie of course, but the only other thing she cared about was something she could easily handle on her own should it arise and she didn’t feel like explaining it.
The Pigs are Staring at Me
“Sounds like foreplay,” she responded shortly as she allowed her hands to fall away from the beautiful stampeding horses. “Besides, the oils on my fingers and the fingers of others, over time, can do damage to its beauty…if I still have oils.” Her face contorted in confusion and she carefully licked the tip of one of her fingers. “Tastes like bronze. Must not be finished with anything.” She shrugged. Her feet began to bother her. Why was it so hard to find matching shoes for the pretty clothes she stole that didn’t hurt her feet? She rocked side to side a bit in her shoes with a facial expression akin to a five year old that needs to use the restroom.
The toreador chuckled softly, shaking his head some. “The oils in your skin won’t harm it. There’s a film over the statue.” He glanced over it lightly with his head canting to the side. “Tastes like bronze? Really?” He leaned over to sniff it slightly. “Suppose you’re right, ducky.” He took a step back and glanced to her once more. That’s when he noticed her rocking from side to side. “Are you feeling alright, miss? You seem to look very uncomfortable.” He glanced down to her heels with a smile. “Not used to wearing those, hm?”
“Wretched inventions,” she sneered. “I’d go barefoot but,” she stopped and looked around and hoped he’d understand what she meant. “Ducky, haven’t heard that endearment in a while. Pick it up somewhere?”
The Pigs are Staring at Me
The pigs are staring at her…That was all she could think as she walked around the strange art gallery. It was mostly paintings but there were a few metal sculptures and the general theme seemed to be farm animals to her. She looked around to take in her surroundings and to get the strange pigs out of her mind. She was wearing a light orange, tiger stripe-looking dress with a v neck and cream heals to match. She touched her ears. Hoops, gold no doubt. She hated hoops. She sighed and eyed the gold charm bracelet she had dangling around her wrist. It had beautiful little trinkets on them. Suddenly she felt rather bad for taking it. She hadn’t realized before that it was so sentimental, or she wouldn’t have taken it. She sighed. What’s done is done. She moved away from the strange pig painting and on to a beautiful metal sculpture of stampeding horses. It was against the rules but, she reached out her fingers to delicately stroke the movements in the structure. Such moments were sheer bliss for her and few other things compared.
Gabriel was asked to make a debut at this art show happening. Normally he’s not into such things, but he needed to get away form work and out of his studio. So he had to come to it. Even if it’s a strange show with farm animals. He walked through the show, eyes looking over each and every item. Tonight he was wearing a long-sleeved mute blue shirt that fit his form and a pair of relaxed jeans, faded of course. The sleeves rolled up to his elbows to be out of the way. And his hair tied back in a ponytail. Some locks dangling about around his face. his head tilted to the side, smiling at one of the paintings.
Someone in a suit walked over to the lady. “Ma’am, please don’t touch that.” He spoke out loudly, hands lifted some. “They’re not meant to be touched.”
Gabriel’s head turned to look at the young lady, walking over with his hand lifted, “It’s fine, sir. She’s just feeling the artistic flow of the structure.” He glanced at the woman with a smile.
“And who are you.” The man pocketed his hands.
Gabriel pulled his hand out of his pocket, offering a card to him. “No one special.” He kept the smile on his lips.
The man took the card, read it over before eyes widened. “I… I’m sorry, I didn’t recognize you sir. My apologies.” He offered a smile, a glance at the young lady before he backed out and away.
“You can continue feeling the structure…” the smile grew bigger.
“Sounds like foreplay,” she responded shortly as she allowed her hands to fall away from the beautiful stampeding horses. “Besides, the oils on my fingers and the fingers of others, over time, can do damage to its beauty…if I still have oils.” Her face contorted in confusion and she carefully licked the tip of one of her fingers. “Tastes like bronze. Must not be finished with anything.” She shrugged. Her feet began to bother her. Why was it so hard to find matching shoes for the pretty clothes she stole that didn’t hurt her feet? She rocked side to side a bit in her shoes with a facial expression akin to a five year old that needs to use the restroom.
