ahangedman

[ahangedman]

           ❝  i’ll hazard i can do                                 (  MORE  )                         damage on my laptop sitting in my pajamas                                              before my first cup of  (  earl gray  )                                                               than you can do in a year in the field. ❞

[ahangedman]

       ❝ high warlock of brooklyn,                         and scrabble champion  — ❞

[ahangedman]

GRANTAIRE;

     The silence of the forest is, frankly, unnerving as fucking      hell, given everything they know  C O U L D  be out there.      Between  animals  and  grounder,  both of  which  usually      wanted the  sky kids  dead,  they never went  long without      finding SOMETHING before the mountain. 

               And while they  knew they’d have to  prepare for this            eventually, that winter would drive everything into                hibernation, the air is still warm, the ground soft, and                hibernation is a long way off. 

        This is different.                                This they don’t have a plan for. 

     He flinches the  moment  Murphy’s  gun hits the      dirt and snorts when he sees the tantrum for what it      is and nothing else. 

                     “Yeah, ‘cause that’s gonna encourage                                      B a m b i  to come out to play.”

             Grantaire shoves  his hands  into his pockets,  gun still              hanging at his hip as he looks around the clearing. He’s              not a tracker,  he’s not even an optimist, but the forest              just can’t be as empty as it looks.                                      Grounders have managed after all.

                       ❝ and keeping my mouth shut is gonna                           improve               our                hunting — ❞

     all their little wars and feuds    (  explosions and gunfire and      screams howled into the forest  )  and they’d never stopped      to think about where it’d lead them         (  or if they’d survive      on     the     scorched    land    they    left    in    their    wake  )                                            ❝ maybe if i whisper, they’ll come out of hiding. ❞                     he couldn’t be any more sarcastic.           he’d worked through earth skills like the rest of them           and whether he’d excelled or  not  didn’t  change  the            fact that somewhere      (  somehow  )       he’d learnt            enough    to   know   fallen leaves   weren’t   frequent            enough to have obscured  all the  tracks  he  couldn’t            see    (  and somewhere this close to the stream and            food sources couldn’t be  this  scarce  unless  there            was         nothing          to          lure           to           it  )                                           a week ago one of the boys from the camp                                          had caught a boar  half  a  mile  from  here.                            (  and now he couldn’t even hear the flutter of birds in the trees  )                      it smothers them in an uneasy silence 

[ahangedman]

insp

[ahangedman]

BLAKE;

         for someone who was running off into the woods with a grounder, murphy still hated them. it was almost a relief, in some way. octavia had a loyalty to them already that bellamy could see. if not a loyalty a curiosity that had him concerned. but he knew at the end of the day the he could trust her. rely on her. for murphy he didn’t have that but he at least knew he wouldn’t be running off to the grounder side any time soon.                                                    ❛ out there is a new beginning. ❜          that’s all he says, a slack shrug accompanying his hushed words before bellamy’s gaze slips back to the forest around them. anywhere but here would be new for murphy. freedom. away from the people who hated him & tried to kill him. & with the so called truce he wouldn’t be kidnapped & tortured this time around.                which tells him there’s something about murphy that he hasn’t quite figured out.

                        ❝ out there is sand and an                            old    man’s    delusional                             attempt     to     convince                             himself that he  matters. ❞  

         (  it’s a slack response  )  and there’s no real drive          behind it     (  if there’s one person he doesn’t have           to    explain    himself    to    it’s     bellamy blake  )     for him there’s no good choice  (  he’s never gonna find some utopia    where he belongs  )           and it’s not about being happy it’s survival.     even if that means  having  to  keep  a  knife  in  his  sleeping  bag  or     his back to a wall      (  john murphy’s hopes of something better had     been dashed  as  soon  as  a  rope  had  wrapped  around  his  neck  )               it was the lesser of two evils                                (  and that’s all he had left  )                  ❝ what’s it matter to you?      i mean nobody forced you into my company, bellamy.      it’s not like camp jaha isn’t big enough for the both  of      us to keep our heads  down  and  never  have  to  look      each                 other               in              the            eye. ❞                                              his own roll                               and he presses on because                               mostly he just  has  nothing                               better              to               do.

[ahangedman]

so i’m here but i’m not sure for how long or if it’ll be a continued effort but if there are threads i’ve replied to that you wanna drop feel free we can totally start a fresh one also and even if we don’t have a thread i’m up to write starters for anyone 

[ahangedman]

ENJOLRAS;

         Enjolras typically makes it a  point  to never go near one of the  arkers          when they’re  handling  something  sharp,  or even  when  they  have an          angry look in their eyes. You can just never be sure if they’re in a foul          enough mood to snap at you,  & Enjolras has been on the receiving          end of one too many  uncomfortable  looks in the past few days that          he’s starting to feel his luck run out already.

         The boy in  question  he’s seen  around camp a few times, usually off on          his own, which could be either a good or a bad sign. Enjolras himself is          usually on his own,  but  that’s less  his own  choice  & more  the arkers          just wanting to avoid him as much as possible.

         He flinches on instinct when the knife scrapes against the wood of the          post.     ❝ Yeah, uh…having Bellamy’s face has been a lot more trouble          than it’s worth, ❞ he admits, trying to keep his voice casual.

         There’s a pause before he asks: ❝ Why d’you wanna hit him? ❞

                  ❝ he just has one of those faces, y’know? ❞

      his knife makes a sound against the stone  (  and if it could       be bitter that’s what it is  )  as he strikes it with a little more       force                                       than                                 before.                                ❝ like he’s the kind of leader you can  trust  to  look                                   out for you up until it’s his ass or yours, and then                                   he almost looks like the kind of guy who’ll  stand                                   by and let a mob  kick  the  shit  out  of  you  and                                    string   you  up  for  a  crime  you  didn’t  commit.                    maybe he’ll even kick the crate out from under you. ❞                         does he sound spiteful?         (  he’s abandoned the rock  )  and the knife’s        blade is  pressed  up  against  his  thumb  to         test      the      give      against      it’s      edge.               ❝ guess you missed all the good times. ❞

[ahangedman]

REYES;

                ❝sounds like a plan. though                 i’m trying this whole thing of                 NOT beating people up.❞

                     which has approximately lasted longer than she                      thought it would. mount weather really has done                      a number on her. damn them.

                ❝family friendly, huh? well if we’re talking                 family then i’ll just do what i did whenever                 my mom used to show up half in the bag.❞

                       there’s a pause and she’d side step away from him                        if she wasn’t so sure she’d toppled over. then she’d                        have to listen to murphy and his snickering and                        she REALLY didn’t want to do that. so instead she                        looks him straight in the eye and narrows her stare.

                                 ❝that means— murphy, that you’ll get my glare.                                  you know the kind that kills. i may throw a few                                  curse words your way & then i’ll storm off.                                  sound good?❞

                       a harsh sound leaves him between teeth                        reluctant       to       loosen      around      it.       it’s a laugh  (�� or he thinks it is  )    it’s hard to identify a        sound that doesn’t leave him often    (  it’s more like an        imitation of one  )        and maybe it’s easier around her       than it should be staring in the face  of  someone  he’d       shot   (  someone who’d tried to make him a sacrifice  )                                                                bygones                                               and he means it  (  he’s trying to  )                           ❝ gee reyes, who knows how                               i’ll          survive           that. ❞

      ❝ wanna flip me off, too? ❞                     (  sarcasm  )     he takes a second to let it all sink in  before he’s    retreating back half a step  (  shoulders squared    and his head raised  )   and he likes the passive    sense of something       (  she’s not a friend but     she’s        not           an          enemy        either  )                                he doesn’t wanna sink it this soon                     (  and he can feel his tongue sharpening and his                    barbs               a                 little             sharper  )                                                    he’s fine in small doses                                   ❝ as much as i’d love to stick around and start                                     working on a friendship bracelet for you, i’ve                                     got     places     to     be,     fights     to     start —                                                                                    try not to miss me much.  ❞

[ahangedman]

BLAKE;

“Says the person who  sounds so damn sure of himself. Don’t push your luck too far Murphy. You might get into trouble.”

          ( Not sure if he wants to laugh, or still clock him in the jaw. )

“If this is your way of playing therapy, please find a different profession.”

    The only therapy he needs with his guilt     and other such emotions is the bottle of     booze in his hand that he doesn’t seem to     want to give to the other.

                            ❝ see, i'd be scared. ❞

     ❝ if trouble wasn’t a damn side effect         to                      being                  me. ❞               his voice is slack and sardonic and it drags                vowels out like  they’re  stuck  between  his                teeth         (  and he can’t remember the last                time the risk of ending up on  the  other  end                of    a    knife    didn’t    loom    over     him  )                                               a laugh wrenched itself free from behind a                                              wry   smirk   and   he    craned    his    neck.                           ❝ maybe if everyone wasn’t itching to  line  up                              and throw a few blows my way, i wouldn’t be                              standing      here      psychoanalysing      you.         but we both know that’s not gonna happen any time soon, so get cosy. ❞                    he rolls his shoulders back, and reaches                    over to snare the bottle  (  with or without                    blake’s say so  )       before swallowing a                     sharp      and      bitter     mouthful    back.

[ahangedman]

[ahangedman]

NUKA:

         ❛ fuck. ❜

               it’s a breathy sound of amusement rather than an exclamation. a soft kind of surprise that no one can hear but the person it’s meant for. nuka grins at the idea of it; a teenage boy hitting on a ghost in some blinded effort to quench his thirst. it was funny, nuka would admit. & it’s not as if he didn’t have his shared stories of embarrassment regarding his own teenage-hood ( but none he can give without explaining, first, that he likes to howl at full moons ). so, instead he shakes his head, rubbing fingers back through his strip of blonde hair.                                                            ❛ that’s one lucky ghost. ❜

                         ❝ would’ve been. ❞  

       he’d been a delusional teenage medium        with a crush on the dead guy next  door        (  typical coming of age crap  )      and it         didn’t           exactly          work          out.    ❝ apparently he was too busy being     dead to let me blow him.    figures. ❞  

[ahangedman]

BELLAMY:

          ❛ good. ‘m not looking for it.  ❜      who would come looking for a thank you from murphy of all people? he’s was following up; making sure murphy was more or less okay. even if bellamy cut him down rather than kick the box, the damage had been done to his throat anyway. it would have been easier to give in but it would have made him a coward too. he didn’t want to be a coward. & he was tired of children dying, even the shit-head ones. no, he came because he knows enough to recognize a ticking time bomb when he sees one.         ❛ i’m here to make you eat. i know your throat hurts but you still have to eat & drink,  ❜ he sets the cup of water & plate of assorted meat & nuts down between them. he lets murphy keep his space, making no move to intrude. it’s some of the last of the meat for the next few days, too. & bellamy didn’t give it to him to earn his praise or favor. it’s what he’s been doing for the ones that listened to him. murphy. mbege. miller. they listened, they ate the best.                 ( there’s a voice, somewhere, telling him how fucked that is but he ignores it ).

           eating seems to insinuate  unwrapping  his             fingers from the knife         (  he’s clutching            it like it’s a lifeline  )  and he can’t  imagine            feeling more vulnerable  covered  in  blood             and unarmed.                    he doesn’t budge.      everything about him is a wounded animal with it’s haunches up,     and it’s teeth  bared.  scrutinizing  everything  around  it  for  the      evidence                                     of                                       danger.                            ❝ somehow i’m not all that hungry. ❞                    (  at least his sarcasm is still intact  ) 

[ahangedman]

your formatting is pretty and your writing is amazing.

ur gonna make me blush but seriously this is hella sweet of you, and i’m really flattered?

[ahangedman]

NUKA:

         there’s a huff of laughter,                                 ❛ more specifically the fuck me eyes you’re giving. ❜       he THINKS he used that term properly here, yes? he’s been listening to murphy ( & the others ) use their english terms generously, trying to understand when a word is appropriate or not. fuck is a trickier one. murphy said it when he dropped something, or when someone pissed him off but, he also said it when nuka’s head was between his legs.                                            ( what a diverse term of expression ).

                       he makes a sound  (  a choked laugh rushing                        to his lips  before  his  hand  covered  them  )                         and his shoulders slump forward in a  motion                        of                              feign                        defeat.          ❝ so much for subtle. ❞  

              as if he’d been making an effort at all               with   his   shallow   voice,   and   the                murmur of words       (  might as well                wear        it        on         his       face  )         on his feet with calloused palms brushing the        dirt from his clothes, he took a few long steps        toward the outskirts of the camp      (  a better         place to  keep  his  tent  than  in  the  center  )         head    thrown    back  with  a  malicious  grin.                                             ❝ are you coming or not? ❞  

[ahangedman]

♣

          REACTION MEME     YOUR MUSE DISCOVERING MINE CRYING 

                                   if anything could’ve  made  the  situation                                   worse  (  and that was a  fucking  stretch                                   on it’s own  )               it was an audience.               and he reaches for anger and repulsion in his              stomach         (  anything would be better than               having to mop the dampness from his cheeks              with sleeves covered in  mud  and blood  and               whatever else  )  bites out a curse and  turns              himself on the spot as if  all  his  reservations               having someone at his  back  were  bound  to               disappear   when   it   hinged   on   his    pride.                      ❝have i got something on my face?❞  

      he spits it out daring bellamy to say something.                  because if it’s going to be awkward,                  he’ll  make  it  just  as  bad  for  the                  both                   of                    them. 

[ahangedman]

the stabbing one

          REACTION MEME     YOUR MUSE STABBING MINE

                              he   doesn’t  believe  in  second                              chances  (  neither of them do  )                               and he’s too numb  to consider                               what    that    means    for    him.          he’d chased a kid through the forest and called for         her blood like a ravenous animal all  of  it  leading          him to the verge of a sharp drop       (  he could’ve          sworn he  heard  her  bones  break  on  the  rocks          down below  )                ❝ mbege.❞  

   inseparable sounds like a stretch  if  the   way the other  boy  turns  his  head  has    anything to say about it   (  and god he’d   mock him and call him a  coward,  if  he   could            find            his          voice  )                    she deserved it          and he has the nerve to turn his         eyes on the princess.     even if          she’d gotten him into this mess,          he’d be lucky if she got him  out.                                 it’s all hushed words, and even as the rest of                                them turned tail  and  walked  back  to  camp,                                 bellamy and clarke deliberated his  fate,  like                                it      was       their       god        given        right.                     she’s supposed to intervene.     at least that’s how he figures this  story    ends.  he’s  supposed  to  be  made  to     atone for what he’d done, but there’s a    sureness    about    the   way   bellamy     clutches the knife murphy had  held  to    her      throat      just       minutes     ago.             (  she doesn’t stay to watch  )                                ❝go ahead, walk away, princess.                                  if you let him do this, my  blood                                 is          on         your         hands.❞                       she pauses, but it’s not for long                      and    then    it’s     just     them.               in his head, he’s supposed to go out with               his teeth clenched,  and  his  fists  balled,               and fight in his  eyes.  he’s  supposed  to               be                                                  fearless.                                     but instead he’s seventeen and afraid,                                     and his eyes are  wet  and  his  breath                                     rattles           in             his           throat.                         ❝ i made a mistake.❞          he doesn’t go numb when the knife          slides  in,  and  shock  doesn’t  do          anything    to    douse   the   feeling.                 all he can do is crumble. hands clasping                for the hand that’s wielding the knife just                to keep  him  standing  a  second  longer.      ❝bellamy, please.❞  

[ahangedman]

          xnjolras​

                            he’s not the only one trying to avoid the                             cluster of the camp          (  all gathered                              around   the   fire,   hands  outstretched,                              familiarity    colouring    their    words  )                              but he doesn’t  think  it’s  for  anywhere                             near          the          same           reason.        (  if they were laid out on a slab and the camp                             had to pick one to save ---  )                   his lips twisted into some critical sense of knowing.                                                     (  it sure as shit wouldn’t be murphy  )                                    ❝ all the faces you could’ve had and                                      you got stuck with  the one i wanna                                     hit        more        than       anything. ❞  

        one hand wrapped around the handle  of  a  knife,          he drove it in against the grains of the  post  he’d         been sharpening for the outer edges and it  made         a sick grating sound as he stripped it into a  point.                  ❝ tough shit. ❞