played by
SOLACE
POSTS
176
awards
|
anxiety pickle
call me EV/EVER
He/Him
25 YEARS OLD
July
18
Cancer
HARTSDALE, NEW YORK
Aggiesexual
Musician
TAG WITH @everettcole
EVERETT COLELLO
But your verse got trapped inside my head; over and over again, you played yourself to death in me.
Hypoxia
posted Jan 1, 2019 21:56:39 GMT -6
[attr="class","civilian"] [nospaces] [attr="class","rcposting1top"] [attr="class","rcposting1img"] [attr="class","rcposting1img2"]  [attr="class","rcposting1mid"]
One of these nights he was going to get a full eight hours of sleep. One of these nights. If he had to sell his fucking soul just to make it happen, even only once, he would do it. The singer was getting desperate, reaching a whole new level of exhaustion that even back in his partying days he'd never truly felt. He felt like he could nod off at any moment, just one blink of the eyes would send him into oblivion, but nothing worked, nothing managed to get him out cold for more than an hour at a time. It was frustrating and unfulfilling, and above all scary. He didn't want to be one of those guys that nodded off behind the wheel and ended up with their head cracked on glass. He needed help.
[break][break]
He'd just gotten done with a small, spur of the moment show for a casual yet welcoming hole in the wall. The bar had heard of his work with his band and offered him some extra cash if he'd wanted to sing a few songs for a special group they had in that night. Naturally, Everett had taken them up on the proposal, not one to pass money by, not when he needed it so badly. Once he'd finished they'd extended their hand and even threw a few free drinks out there for him, but tonight he just wasn't in the mood, and he wanted to get home before his eyes glued themselves shut. Perhaps they'd been able to sense that, because they sent him off a few moments later with warm smiles on their faces and kind words of making a soon return.
[break][break]
Now he was sat out in his car in the back alley by the establishment, his seat reclined and an arm slung over his face. The leather stuck uncomfortably to his skin but he didn't move, trying to muster up some kind of motivation just to make the short drive back home. It was getting so hard these days just to continue on sometimes. He didn't know how other people did it so easily, how they managed to get through life like it was nothing. Maybe he'd just made it hard for himself, harder than it needed to be because he was stupid and selfish and he didn't want to be some boring math professor, he wanted to be a musician, a world-renowned frontman, somebody who brought out emotions in others, be they good or bad, high or low, somebody who made connections with unfamiliar hearts.
[break][break]
Ugh. No wonder his parents hadn't been able to look him in the eye when he'd left.
[break][break]
With a heavy sigh Everett sat back up, fixing his seat and turning the key. Softly his car rumbled to life, the headlights flashing to life. He'd just shifted into drive when the passenger door opened, a sudden burst of movement that nearly had his heart lurching out of his chest. He turned to the stranger now slipping into his car with wide eyes and a vaguely horrified expression on his face, her body as lithe and dark as the shadows outside. No wonder he hadn't noticed her coming. No wonder he was struck speechless, frozen with shock. What... what the fuck?!
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played by
Seruchan
POSTS
10
awards
|
Inactive
call me Andi
she/her
21 YEARS OLD
November
1
Scorpio
San Francisco, California
Pansexual
Con Artist/Spy
TAG WITH @andi
ANDROMEDA BLAKE
no one wants to see the way society keeps spreading the disease.
Hypoxia
posted Jan 4, 2019 1:19:41 GMT -6
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@
[attr="class","boxline"] [attr="class","notes"] [attr="class","notebox"] [attr="class","asterisk"]* [attr="class","noteline"] [attr="class","boxn"]
*cough* The ninja cometh *cough*
[attr="class","header"] [attr="class","right"]
movin' like the[break]
speed of sound[attr="class","bottom"] Andi had no room for mistakes.[break][break]
Sure, she made them all the time as Andi the Part-Timer, but as Andi the Con Artist? Mistakes were the one-way ticket to imprisonment--and frankly she wasn't ready to go behind bars, not yet (not again). She'd been trying to avoid those for as long as she can remember (it's only really been five years since last time), and she wasn't about to break that record now, in a humble bar, surrounded by modest people who certainly didn't deserve any disturbance.[break][break]
Except, of course, her target.[break][break]
The actual con had gone smoothly enough--Mr. Rabelais was too gullible, and gullible in this context meant he fell easily for empty offers of quick money. Greed; that's what she had always relied on her targets to have, and Mr. Rabelais didn't disappoint. It made for a clean, quickly-executed plan. No hiccups. No mistakes.[break][break]
So why in the world was an angry man with a butcher knife currently chasing her out of the bar?[break][break]
Had Rabelais somehow found out and sent an underling her way? Or did he know even before the con began? Surely not--right? The man promptly grabbing a butcher knife from the bar's kitchen instead of taking out a gun or other weapon from his person was a dead giveaway to that. He seemed to be a worker in the bar, judging from where he'd taken his weapon from. Someone she'd crossed before, perhaps?[break][break]
Whatever possible answers there were had been immediately thrown out of the window as Andi tried to escape the man's line of sight. The cause of his aggression could be rooted out later, as soon as Andi made sure he wasn't going to be able to track her down and lodge a knife to her skull. She was just thankful she entered the bar disguised as a completely different person--wearing a thick, curly wig, painting her skin a tad bit darker, and pairing up with thick, round eyeglasses that slightly altered the shape of her eyes. At this rate, her furtive trek towards the staff backdoor was going to catch a few eyes.[break][break]
Nevertheless, the backdoor allowed the least amount of suspicion and now she was currently behind the bar building, looking for a possible vehicle to hotwire and escape with.[break][break]
No such luck.[break][break]
As if on cue, the door behind her flung backwards to announce the entrance of her hunter. She still couldn't put a finger as to where she'd seen him before, and she didn't bother doing so as she took a sharp turn to the left, hoping and praying there was something she could use to outrun or outwit him.[break][break]
The answer came through the hum of a car engine not very far away, turning on lightbulbs in Andi's head. Without hesitation she approached the car's back, pulling off her wig and deftly wrapping it around the license plate. Her chaser's heavy footsteps were starting to get louder and that just made Andi scurry faster towards the passenger door, opening it with slightly panicked hands and immediately flinging herself inside--much to the apparent surprise of the driver.[break][break]
Shit...she had a lot of explaining and fixing to do. Somehow the day had trolled her enough to give her this many mistakes to make.[break][break]
"D-drive!" she managed to exclaim, her eyes locked at the increasingly-nearing man outside the car. "Look dude there's a man with a butcher knife outside and I'm pretty sure he thinks you're my accomplice now look I'm gonna apologize and fix this later but now you gotta drivedrivedrivedrive--"
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played by
SOLACE
POSTS
176
awards
|
anxiety pickle
call me EV/EVER
He/Him
25 YEARS OLD
July
18
Cancer
HARTSDALE, NEW YORK
Aggiesexual
Musician
TAG WITH @everettcole
EVERETT COLELLO
But your verse got trapped inside my head; over and over again, you played yourself to death in me.
Hypoxia
posted Jan 6, 2019 19:25:13 GMT -6
[attr="class","civilian"] [nospaces] [attr="class","rcposting1top"] [attr="class","rcposting1img"] [attr="class","rcposting1img2"] [attr="class","rcposting1mid"]
For a long moment he wasn't even sure if he could still breathe, and then the woman spoke and he sucked in a stuttering gulp, his lungs hurting a bit. Jesus, his heart was hammering away in his chest. "Wh-what--" Everett felt like he couldn't get a grasp on reality, the situation hitting him as suddenly as a semi going 90 down a freeway. The mention of a butcher knife was all he needed to stammer out another startled, "What?!" his eyes instinctively shooting up to the rearview mirror. Her words of panic rang in his ears, nearly tangible from the emotion with which she spoke. He couldn't see anything in the darkness at first, but then the red glow of the brake-lights hit a figure coming out of the shadows, glinting especially on something in his grip, and he nearly shouted because the man was fucking running straight for them.
[break][break]
An entirely new jolt of alarm coursed through his entire frame, finalizing its path like a cemented ton in his foot. He couldn't have even resisted the urge to push down on the pedal if he'd wanted, immediately streaking out of the alleyway without giving the act a second thought and only a startled, "Shit!" to accompany the flurry. He hoped that this crazy chick was holding onto something, because he wasn't looking back, zipping his way around the corner like a bat out of hell. The squeal of the tires was something he'd only heard in jest, like when he'd been messing around with friends back when he'd been younger. Now it was fully in earnest and he didn't even let it bother him, wanting to get away from the danger as quickly as possible.
[break][break]
But... was this really getting away from it? After all, the girl was the one doing the running here, and the barging into strangers' cars, and she clearly had an idea of the situation given her brief overview of it all--accomplice, had she said?--and... well fuck. He'd already made his way down a good couple of blocks, barely heeding stop signs and changing lights, and as soon as he felt he was far enough away to avoid Mister Butcher Knife, Everett pulled off to the side of the road, coming to an abrupt stop. Fortunately, given the late hour, most of the streets were lacking in taken parking spots. He pulled right up to the curb, carelessly crooked, next to some dimly lit fish store (the aquariums glowed deeper inside), and felt his anxiety lift a notch higher.
[break][break]
Looking towards the stranger once more, he wordlessly shook his head, his hands tight on the steering wheel. Where did he even start? How did he know she didn't have some sort of knife on her? Truthfully he just wanted to tell her to get out and leave it at that, but his voice wouldn't come. It was stuck in his throat.
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