#volteic

[vtriol]

❛   did you see what it was?   ❜ – @volteic​

          ❛ christ, did you? ❜  what an insane question; the likelihood of the two seeing the same mirage was infinitesimally small. still, the lake (oasis? illusion?) seems to be haunting their daydreams in the same way. maybe it was a collective hallucination, a sign that they’ve been in area x for far too long. not that either of them were sure of how long that actually was. after week three, dating their journals felt unnecessary; days didn’t pass with the sense of time they expected.

          on day unknown of month whatever, they found the lake. the mirror. neither realized they were near, much less in, a lake until ila looked down and noticed that their shadows became reflections. their steps didn’t disturb the water, their feet carrying too much impact to break the surface. a slow touch was required to go beneath the image, but the numbing cold meant they couldn’t touch the lake water with bare hands for long. as ila performed their scientific duty and prodded the lake, thana reassessed their surroundings. the lake seemed... forever. increasingly, though, thana found issues with the reflection; the quality was indistinguishable from reality, but the details were altered. like a game of spot the difference.

          it was when they started at their own reflection, their double, that they felt a sudden urge to be as far away from this lake as possible.

          ❛ i’m not gonna pretend like i understand anything about water physics. i think we were both suffering from heatstroke and dehydration and i don’t want to go back. ❜

[aicidos]

22) things you said after it was over. spikefaye, sorry

things you said .  .  . ♡  * closed !  @volteic.

   there was a magazine pinched between her fingers, sitting unread as she favored watching the ghost redness along her wrists. 

   she felt the cold steel, even now. she could hear the song he played, julia, even now. 

   it was inviting and nurturing and cruel like a swan song, and spike sought it as though it were a lifeline, the end of the line. at least, that’s how jet made it sound. 

   all faye knew with certainty was that music was vital and vicious: the same sound that made edward jolt in anticipation made something inside of faye twist. the mouthpiece of a saxophone jabbing at her side like a thorn, a bullet to the rib. andante. a melody of metal doors shuttering open and closed in sequence, the clinking of nail polish bottles falling down one by one after her feet pushed them. staccato. 

   prancing through the living room, spike was swallowed up by her obnoxiously fuschia puffer jacket, dead silent. even so, there was a certain serenity to him, perhaps by virtue of not appearing as shaken as her, and it made her hand tremble into a fist, crumpling the magazine into an indecipherable mess. she opened her mouth at the same moment he opened the small fridge,  “  did you try to stop him too ?  ”  which meant: is he really, truly gone ?  in spike’s silence, she thought she could see him steel himself to not turn around and face her. the aborted movements were answer enough, and it weakened her. 

   gren had spoken with a finality that had her mourning since he near-apologetically shoved her into that dark room and left her there, but she felt a stab of pain regardless, as though it was all news to her. 

   “  i could’ve stopped him.  ”  at times, the thought of loss felt unfathomable, it tainted her voice hot with shame. with her statement, faye thought about spike in equal measure, and, to a lesser extent, of mao yenrai. more accurately, his upright-sitting corpse beside her, and vicious’ voice just above her. clearly, it all fucking circled back to him. vicious, vicious, her mind repeated to the point of nausea. had she known the outcome, maybe she would have tried to stop spike then, too.

   now, all she was left with was the remnants of gren’s melody, his memory, and a short string of names that nobody cared to unravel in depth. spike certainly wouldn’t.

 “  just⸺  ”  she stood, suddenly furious, speaking through her teeth.  “  what is it about vicious that makes everyone throw away their lives like they’re nothing ?  ”

[omg-casualbeardstudent]

Saturation [Drumstep] by Volteic https://ift.tt/2TzYavB

[aicidos]

“i can see you moving your eyes under your lids again, yubin,” he frowns, huffing under his breath. pausing, he leans back to assess his work, seeks out any errant harsh lines or unblended corners where eyeshadow diffuses into fair skin. “your eyelids are fluttering and stuff, it’s making it hard to blend properly….” with a wry grin and a practiced hand, he adjusts the hold on his brush, nudges her chin a bit higher, and gets back to fluffing color over her lids. “you nervous or something? i promise don’t bite.”  @volteic.

   no one has ever done her makeup for her, and perhaps she has been smart for it. not that it mattered anymore, though——— ila seems entirely amused about it. at times, the possibility of him sabotaging her crosses yubin’s mind, and she tries to measure it against all the mischief she has done to him this week. the bristles brush across, and with every sweep, images come and go; she did put on his glasses without his permission yesterday ( they paired nicely with her outfit ), and she might have eaten a few of the snacks on his cabinets, not to mention picked his lock ( that old thing broke on her again ) .  .  .

   if his payback is proportional to the rundown in her head, yubin supposes she was fucked.

   “   it tickles,  ”  a huff escapes her, shifting on her seat again. her fingers are restless, so she laces her hands together. ila pauses, and she takes the opportunity to open her eyes, blinking the strain away.

   yubin stares at him. she stares intently, travels all his face but always comes back to his pupils, and concludes ila is still as hard to pierce through as always——— and that she does not trust his grin. still, her chin lifts in compliance, and her eyes are back to fluttering closed, pretending she’s all but concerned about this.  “  yes, i know for a fact you’re all bark. i’m just eager to see your results, that’s all.  ”  moments after he resumes his work, her hand reaches for his wrist with an oddly gentle grip to stop his blending for several beats,  “  i hope you’re aware our friendship is hanging on the results of this. especially the eyeliner.  ”

   her hand drops, playful grin bearing her teeth, all while close eyed,  “  no pressure, though.  ”