white bells {briar} [blitz]

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kousei ♚
Mentor

2,011 POSTS
Pronouns: He/Him/His
last seen May 7, 2022 17:23:18 GMT -5

now and forever

white bells {briar} [blitz] Jan 1, 2017 13:40:54 GMT -5

Post by kousei ♚ on Jan 1, 2017 13:40:54 GMT -5

k a e l s u m m i t

I wake up with red caked to the side of my face and my clothes stitched to my torso with sweat. I spasm and blur, I'm fumbling, stumbling and holding onto the remaining fabrics of my society with nothing more than a paper hook and outstretched fingers. "Fuck." It comes out more as a rasp and a grunt in the midst of pain hammering the forefront of my mind and the bottom of my throat on fire.

The first thing that hits me is the light and the concrete.

I shouldn't be here with black and blue brush strokes against my knuckles slowly fading and something heavy in my pocket. The cut on the side of my head screams at me to lay the fuck down but I'm not one for taking orders. The price of juvenile delinquency but what else can I really do but grit my teeth and hope I find my way out of this one way -

I hear white footsteps.

- or another.

I quickly pat the side of my pocket; it feels like a bag, something solid, something powdery and broken up and it sends red and white alarm bells tearing through my ears and hearing and so I bite my lip and freeze.

"Shit."

I hoist myself up, quickly brushing myself down with a false of assurance.

"I was just leaving."

I hope.

table credit to lancelot <333

я𝑜𝓈𝑒
Mentor

2,890 POSTS

Pronouns: she/her/they/them
last seen Nov 23, 2023 2:34:11 GMT -5

anyway don't be a stranger

white bells {briar} [blitz] Jan 1, 2017 23:43:34 GMT -5

Post by я𝑜𝓈𝑒 on Jan 1, 2017 23:43:34 GMT -5

{ isley summit }

My Peacekeeper helmet shields my face as I patrol the streets of Seven. I hate it when they put me on patrol duty, but everyone has to take the night watch eventually.

There's a figure on the concrete just on the end of a pool of light from one of the streetlamps, near a shadowy alley. Quietly, I begin to walk towards them, and watch as they pat their pocket, as if to make sure something's in there, an action which I narrow my eyes at.

Once I have approached and he's aware of my presence, he speaks. "Shit," he says, and gets up from the ground. Now able to see more of his face, he looks like the ghost of someone I once knew. But that thought is overlapped by his ruffled hair and the deep cut on his face. "I was just leaving."

But the gash on the side of his face speaks louder than his words do.

Perhaps he would respond better if I took the mask off, and so I do, revealing a head of blonde hair and skeptical green eyes.

"Ripred, you look like you've come from hell and back," I comment, and place my hands on my hips. "Empty your pockets," it is spoken as an order. "Try to run and I won't be so nice."

"even stars burn out."

kousei ♚
Mentor

2,011 POSTS
Pronouns: He/Him/His
last seen May 7, 2022 17:23:18 GMT -5

now and forever

white bells {briar} [blitz] Jan 2, 2017 17:18:15 GMT -5

Post by kousei ♚ on Jan 2, 2017 17:18:15 GMT -5

k a e l s u m m i t

It's a peacekeeper.

She removes her helmet from her head, releasing blonde locks and curls and a steely suspicious gaze behind green orbs. "Ripred, you look like you've come from hell and back," she says and I can't help but chuckle and agree. I feel like my head's slowly splitting open and my mind's slowly breaking down piece and by piece. Needless to say, everything hurts like hell. Shades of blue and red paint my dazed vision and explosions light in the back of my skull. I don't just look like I've been to hell and back, I must look like I've made the trip about three times over.

Not that she needs to know why, I don't even know why.

"Tell me about it, my head hurts like hell so I should probably get-"

but she cuts me off massively with damning demands. "Empty your pockets, try to run and I won't be so nice." And it's an order, from an angel of authority to a delinquent.

My thumb brushes my pocket and I instinctively know that whatever is in there could get me publicly whipped or worse. If I turn over my pockets she'll take me in, if I run she could catch me or shoot me.

It's a good thing lies come easily to me, I stick both my hands in my pockets and pray I can buy time for something, anything.

"So is it kinda a habit you usually search beaten up orphans or is there just something special 'bout me?" I remark with a battered grin. I turn my right pocket inside out before pausing - the contents of my other pocket intrigue me but also petrify me.

"See, I don't have much."

table credit to lancelot <333