theirxnprice

[theirxnprice]

@hounddaughter

[theirxnprice]

𝖎. Ramsay’s story evokes a fleer, and Theon can clearly picture the way that the young Baratheons eye twitched before he busted a vein in his forehead. 

𝖎𝖎. Despite his jeering, watching Ramsay demolish his meat platter had proven to remind Theon that he had not had anything to eat since seven hours prior, when he had had dinner with the Starks. So, he saint pushes himself up from his relaxed posture, now rounding the counter and promenading down the chip aisle of his run down corner store.

“So you ran from the cops and now you’re hiding here?”

𝖎𝖎𝖎. Brows arch in amusement towards his admission guilt: And the other’s hint of humor is met with a glint of Theon’s own mirth. Verdigris eyes shift their focus, and he disappears for only a moment behind a steel gondola shelf. 

𝖎𝖛. Theon mourned the years of delinquency and freedom of teenage youth, the lack of care for any responsibilities. The issues with his father strained the quality of his childhood, but in a way Theon felt life was almost easier before having an adult man in his life who expected more from him then to overdose in some alley. In a way, Theon wished that Eddard had never paid him any mind; viewed him as another child to be failed by the system; ignored, disregarded and forgotten. Instead, he found an annoying sense of needing to make up to his fathers parole officer who refused to stop giving him second chances. So he found himself painfully sober, standing behind the register of his minimum wage job and beyond exhausted and feeling an inappreciable sting of envy. 

𝖛. It could be worse. Theon much preferred the idea of drinking himself into a stupor along the tracks, smashing bottles and vandalizing train cars in the company of friends; rather than kicking it with the likes of that pixie-esque all bark and no bite nepotism baby to lap at his parents liquor cabinet. Though, in truth, if he had not been on the work schedule that evening he most likely would have crashed himself — if only to get his hands on Robert’s Peach Crown to take with him. 

𝔳𝔦. There’s a crinkling sound, and soon enough his disheveled dirty blonde mop pops up once again. A pop, crunching; potato chips would serve as sustenance enough until he would be graced with whatever five star breakfast Mrs. Stark would wake him up with nine hours later. The hypocrite returns to his leaning post, though this time he chooses to remain in front of it; once again returning his attention to Ramsay. Perhaps he was too tired to pay his lizard brain much mind- (or, in genuine truth, maybe he was so benighted to his own sense of survival that he subconsciously ignored it-) But whatever the case, Theon smiled at him. It’s taunting, a hypocritical sort of comedy curling his lips; still, the gesture is preformed (in a mostly) affable manner.

“It’s not going to look good if they show up in the middle of you eating stolen food, y’know.”

[theirxnprice]

brain blast!

Don’t be alarmed! Unless you find it alarming that I am declaring myself supreme overlord of Winterfell, in which case, be very alarmed!!!

[theirxnprice]

i. Probably an insomniac. Either that, or he was an actual tweaker- and that thought didn’t actually seem to far fetched for Theon. Talk about a staring problem! Did this guy even blink? Theon’s brow furrows momentarily in  a state of mild confusion of the others creepy audacity. For a moment he wants to comment on how creepy he looked- “Do you ever blink?” Though, ultimately he doesn’t seem all to phased by the others abnormal disposition; as he doesn’t do much to move away from the wall he is so comfortably leaned against. Theon takes a brief moment to study the features of his peer. The guy had nice hair, a real Peter Steele type with a little more metal in his face. 

ii. So he wasn’t here for the til, but he was here to rob Little Debbies. He quirks a brow at him in light amusement, pondering how he would respond to the others proposal. He very well should be discouraging of the others jest, as it was in line with his job description; but in truth, the other’s assumption of him had proven correct. He was too exhausted to care, which clearly reflected off the deep eyebags under tired grey eyes. However, it wasn’t as if he hadn’t ever stolen anything either. Since childhood, Theon had a case of sticky fingers; His father caring not to dissuade either him or his sister from such antics. He in fact had not paid for the fourth cup of coffee he currently sipped from, so there was no moral objection on his behalf. Employee of the month! The camera was busted, anyways; not like either of them would be held accountable. The Stark family had managed to whip him up into some kind of respectable shape, but at the end of the day he was still a Greyjoy. Theon takes a few steps forward, now resting his weight on the palm of his hand pressed against the front counter. 

“ … Yeah, I don’t get paid enough. “

iii. He chuckles, a pardoning wave with his free hand being granted before his thumb finds the loop of his jeans.

“ Go nuts. “

iv. With his permission granted, he finally breaks their prolonged eye contact and returns his attention to his phone; though only briefly, just to catch a glimpse of the time. An hour and a half, and then the mornings shift change would come in. There’s a small sigh of relief exhaled through his nose before his attention once again returns to the man perusing the aisles.

v. He had seen him around, though in truth he really didn’t know much about him. While he was not shy by any means, they had never really shared the same social groups to warrant any level of dialogue between the two. However, being alone at his job with the other proved to ignite a spark of interest; even if only from sheer boredom, even if only for the need to hear his own voice.

“ So, did you go to Joffrey’s party tonight? “ “ Heard that went really badly apparently, the cops got called or something? “

vi. He opens dialogue, referencing from a post he had seen on Instagram moments before the other had come in and presuming that this was the reason why the other was out and about at two-thirty in the morning. It would make sense, as the house party was only 5 blocks away.

➳ 𝔦. had ramsay taken the time to consider it, he would’ve supposed he’d always had nocturnal tendencies; of course as a child this had always proven irritating to his mother, having to send him to bed for the fourth time in one evening surely couldn’t have been fun. at that age it was quietly trying to put a movie on, the volume so low he himself could barely hear, where he’d have to lean in to listen, or sneak downstairs for extra dinner. But suppose he did not; this was simply the way it’d always been. Although now he was free to venture out at night, his father certainly didn’t seem to care, so long as he still attended school and such, and after his mother’s death and the car he’d been given, nighttime adventures had become a near nightly occurrence. thus, adventure he did. oftentimes these outings had him partaking in less than savory activities; hitting animals intentionally, stealing, harassing the homeless, etc. all of which he found to be greatly amusing, his own car being chock full of stolen baubles and nicknacks. ➳ 𝔦𝔦. it was quite common for him to stop for meals at places like convenience stores or gas stations as opposed to any of the local fast food chains, he certainly didn’t want to pay for his food, and depending on the employee and location, some would just let him take things. he’d grown more careful since his arrest, only about a year prior he’d been sent to juvie for repeated thefts that he’d been a bit too bold with. no, since then he’d been quite good at minding where he’d just been, who had better cameras, and which employees would or wouldn’t care if they caught him. he hadn’t much minded juvie, if anything, it’d been sort of fun at first, but the monotony had become boring, and the food was a step down from the typical cafeteria meals at his school. no for the time being he’d had enough of that. of course his definition of “being more careful” was still quite bold, just a bit easier to pass as a joke. of course roose had a well stocked pantry, being as well off as he was, but ramsay was no culinary whiz beyond using a toaster or microwave, and this was far more entertaining. ➳ 𝔦𝔦𝔦. it was on one such night drive, after having gone out of his way to speed into a raccoon that had been crossing the road, that he realized how brisk it’d become, his car, while functional, was certainly not in the best condition, and one thing that proved more temperamental was the heater in his car. of course he’d donned a jacket but it was doing little to stay much chill when the car was struggling to warm itself, what would be perfect right now, would be a cup of instant noodles, or hot chocolate; hot food to ward off the low temperatures. he pauses a moment in thought, eyes narrowing briefly as he considers his options; there were a few locations he could head to from where he was, all within 15 minutes of him, although he would ultimately decide to simply drive until he found one to his liking or one he hadn’t raided in a while. 

➳ 𝔦𝔳. there was a bj’s around here, one that, if he recalled, had shoddy cameras as it was, one he’d not paid any visit to since his arrest. it’d never necessarily been his favorite place to grab a bite to eat, but it certainly wasn’t bad food either; and after pondering this a moment longer he wheels around, abruptly, turning sharply in the middle of the unlit back road to reroute himself to the gas station. the cold elicits a yawn from him as he slumps a bit in his seat, one hand lazily draped over the steering wheel just enough to keep him headed in a straight line.

➳ 𝔦𝔳. its a roughly 5 minute drive made out of what would have been a 10 minute drive, as there was hardly anyone else on the road at this hour, ramsay could pretty much speed to his heart’s content, and thus he did, wheeling recklessly into the parking lot and doing a shoddy job at parking, being slightly too diagonal. what did it matter? hardly anyone else was out and about at this time. and should someone be and take issue with his half assed parking, he’d take great delight in completely disregarding said complaints, and if anything adding fuel to the fire. besides, even if he did care, nearly the entire parking lot was free. he presses his boot to the brake pedal and turns his key before removing it and returning it to his jacket pocket, pressing the lock button from inside his pocket, as he’d quickly stuffed both hands in them. before he enters, he looks in at the cashier, someone he recognized from school, but not someone he’d yet encountered as an employee. he ponders his options as he walks, thumbing over his wallet to see how much he had on him, worst case scenario, he buy something small and smuggle out something else in his jacket. while he was certain he’d never spoken to the other before, as he approaches the door he can’t help but ask himself why; those pretty dirty blonde curls would certainly prove a joy to tousle and play with. he doesn’t try to hide the fact that he’d been staring, if anything, quite the contrary, he continued as the automatic doors slide open for him and he’s greeted with the clearly exhausted, half hearted greeting from the other, which he soon thereafter returns with his own too cheery for the hour

“morning!”

➳ 𝔳. just from what he could gather this seemed hopeful, this man certainly looked the type to be too tired and underpaid to care, but there was never any harm in seeking clarification. should worse come to worse, he had become quite good at playing off such inquiries as a joke done in poor humor. animatedly, he removes a hand from his pocket, pointing to the other before he speaks.

“you- “ “look like someone that’ll let me have free…”

➳ 𝔳𝔦. he stops a moment to pull his phone out of his pocket to check the time; 2:30 am.

“...breakfast? dinner?.... breakfast.”

➳ 𝔳𝔦𝔦. he shrugs at this dilemma as to what he’d consider a 2:30 am meal

“whatever you’d call it.”

[theirxnprice]

— starter for @saevissimus ooc. modern au yippee!!

i. Theon was dead tired. The small cup of gas station coffee in which he had refilled four times since the start of his shift at seven p.m. kept him conscious, though he felt it couldn’t speak to much more then that. How he had thought that he would balance starting his day at five a.m. and end it at three-thirty am the following day four out of three days a week, he had no idea. But nearly every day as he would set upon his utterly depressed trudge out the front door of the Stark residence and to Eddard Stark’s patrol car, he would settle himself in for an his eight hour shift at his job after his 6 hour school day. He would wish he could reach back in time to the Theon of three weeks before and slap him senseless.

ii. Alas, ‘twas not all that horrible. The very fist few hours of his shift were the only times it was ever really busy; but after a certain point, business dribbled off to nigh non-existent. Aside from the odd blue collar out working at an ungodly time passing through, to the stoned out of one’s mind snacker, interaction was almost never a requirement. It gave him time to unwind, listen to his own music, mindlessly scroll his phone and snack away himself whenever he had run out of stationary things to do. 

iii. He now found himself in this down time part of his shift, and soon enough he would be clocking out to go home and earn his much deserved first full night of sleep that week. No one had come in for an hour and a half, and he had already cleaned the bathrooms and wiped the counters. He leaned against the back counter, an earbud in one ear as he scrolled his socials. Occasionally, his gaze would flit up to the top of his phone to check the time, counting the time between that moment and him crawling into his warm bed. He was bored out of his mind, and he was ready to go home.

iv. Then there’s the sound of the door, the ringing sound that snaps his attention up from his screen. He’s curious, relatively nosy by nature; and while he assumed there would be little to no interaction, he still provided a level of acknowledgement to whomever had come in. Was it the resident tweaker? Or someone who was going to try their luck stealing the hundred dollars in the till? Well, he wasn’t necessarily sure; but one thing he did note was that he recognized the kid who had walked in. That was not to say he knew him well- he didn’t even know the guys name- but he had seen him before. Passing glances on campus once or twice was all he could attest for, but even with such limited relatedness he couldn’t not distinguish that daunting gaze the kid had. Involuntarily, a brow quirks in moderate intrigue as to why the other was out at such an unholy hour. An insomniac? Maybe that’s why his eyes looked so fucking dead. 

v.  With a small yank of the cord he removes his headphone, shoving both the electronics back into his pocket. 

“Morning.”

vi. It’s slightly mumbled due to the aforementioned grogginess, but enunciated enough to be understood.

[theirxnprice]

👁️👅👁️

*disassociates cutely*

[theirxnprice]

tag directory. to navigate, or to block.

[theirxnprice]

mobile links: dossier | musings | relations | playlist | tag directory | administration

くコ:彡 independent && semi-selective theon greyjoy from the asoif series. show based, book adaptable. blog is rated DD:DNE and may contain graphic and triggering content in line with the show. mun is 24! minors dni. this blog is a side blog for my myranda!