#『 ɪf ɪ'ᴅ ᴏɴʟʏ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛ ᴏꜰ sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴄʜᴀʀᴍɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ sᴀʏ. 』 - ic.

[luciditaes]

@ghostlived​​ said: " society needs to crumble. we’re all just too chicken shit to let it " wow edgy

the conviction in her statement startles a laugh. a certain hesitation to answer for a moment, in a low, thoughtful whistle. they twirl cigarette between fingers and hold it out in offering; “...maybe you’re right,” they begin, “shit was simpler when it was all about that hunting and gathering life. smacking some rocks together. scooping some water into your hand at the riverside, getting scared shitless by your own reflection--”

pause ( to breathe ) in long-winded joke--reprieve from what could, if pressed, be an ongoing tangent ( a flinching instinct; lighten the tone ). they shift back on heels, lilting head with a quirk of their brow;

“...personally, i’d like to regress into, like, a prehistoric shellfish--completely lacking cognizance. imagine how zen a shellfish is, jules. no thoughts whatsoever.”

[luciditaes]

@edensiren​ said: “ can i come in? ” let her bug them

“no,” comes drawn out melodrama--from where they had come to collapse on bedroom floor; “i’m super booked, like, for the rest of the year. stewing in self-loathing, and can’t be viewed by humans.” there’s a distinct pause in deadpan, before, ultimately--and in record time--hal resigns to the gentle voice on the other side. reaches over their head to tap the cracked door into swinging open. blinks up at her gently, upside-down, with a doleful look and hair in a messy halo on the carpet. “no for real, it’s blinding, avert your eyes.” eyebrows furrow down pensive and sober; “and while we’re here--please never let me go to another party.”

their dramatics come to a fold, of course ( rachel makes it easy—you can’t even hold the frown ). and all despite the fact that they’d, moments ago, done everything to swerve her on their corpse-walk in. doubts she would, but the mere thought of rachel’s judgement would rip several stripes off them in one sad baby-deer look.

there’s less-than-comfortable quiet for a short moment--and this time, faint laugh cracks their pout, forced only a little. “...hey, ray.” tone comes away a little softer, a little less like a wall. even if wall remains, in a more palatable shade. “...sorry. didn’t mean to ditch you down there. did mom talk your ear off again? she’s really into crystals this month, so, uh. get ready for that, i guess.”

[luciditaes]

@infear​​ said: “ it’s hard to say. there’s blood. that’s different.” /from grim! :)/

“sooo, am i dying?”

in dramatic fashion--has been holding their hand in companion’s face for the last few seconds--so that they may get a closer look at the red collecting where they’d choked it up moments ago. okay, so your hometown is giving you radiation poisoning. big deal, so is your cellphone, probably.

thoughts threaten to derail, stumbling, into mild hysteria--so they return attention to grim, cast lopsided grin ( laugh around a rattling cough ); “if you know and don’t tell me, that’d be kind of fucked up.” ignore that your mouth tastes like pennies and dirt. “--how do you even know when someone’s about to die? do you guys have an app for that? is there like, a sims diamond above my head?” rocks on their heels as they level grim with pointed look.

“...come on. i'm just asking for, like, a vague estimation--” lilting hint of a whine to their tone as they shift, agitated, wiping blood in jacket fabric. “--you know that show--1000 ways to die? did you ever see someone drink magnets and die? that’s-- not how i wanna go, but it’d be cool to know ahead of time.” plan your social media scorched earth in advance. 

[luciditaes]

@kittpaddon​​ said: “ sometimes you just want to forget who you are altogether.”

“yeah, i mean--i totally dream about becoming an immortal recluse in a far off castle one day,” wry smile; “who doesn’t?” kitt hadn’t asked if they wanted to be a vampire ( everyone wants to be a vampire, obviously ). kitt had left a far heavier question on the table--and you insist; it’s not that you’re trying to avoid it, it’s just that, maybe, looking it in the eyes will blind you permanently. “--or maybe moving to iceland and not telling anyone. what’s the population there, like a hundred?” 

short laugh--a measured, practiced sort of sound--to fill silence, to sidestep the discomfort in their thoughts. they're plenty aware of it, familiar with it, even--the way this sentiment tastes a little bitter, a little disingenuous of them. casts sidelong smile to companion, instead; “...what d’you think?” soft nudge, elbow-to-elbow as they ready to roll a note of drama through their voice; “wanna change our names and go become fishermen in reykjavík?”

[luciditaes]

tttags