Death, a metaphor {Sue x Orville blitz}

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Death, a metaphor {Sue x Orville blitz} Jun 1, 2015 22:08:58 GMT -5

Post by Deleted on Jun 1, 2015 22:08:58 GMT -5

S U E T A T E

Sue Tate was dying as soon as his words hit the ground.

"Sue Tate." His name echoes in his head, bouncing around the inside of his skull and putting cracks in the lining. One breath, two hands wrapped around his arms and three spit-less gulps as they lead him through those empty walls. Sixty nine pairs of eyes stare into his soul, their lips chapped with age and their cheeks stained with the touch of death.

They wear suits of dust and undershirts of broken hopes and dreams, with their ambitions pressing against the canvas of the painting.

They put him in a cage of peeling wallpaper and a cracked wood coffee table, and it's all he can do to not throw himself out the window.

"It'll be alright." His words snap heart strings like a tribute's sanity, pierces the innards of his mind with daggers forged from words and the fiery downfall of his lies.

He paces around the room, tasting the death in the air. And he swears, it circles around him and traces a bony finger across his throat. Theres one breath, two breath, and on his third his foot catches on something and theres a creak and he stumbles forward slightly, one hand on the wall and the other on the musty air.

A nail sticks up from it's hiding place, bent from the weight of his lies crushing it. It taunts him, and as he kneels down, boots snapping, he admires his reflection in the metal plate.

Far too large fingers rip it from it's resting place, and he stares at his reflection before stuffing it into his pocket.

The couch springs creak and whine as he sits, tracing death lines in the dust of the table.

Baby Wessex d9b [earthling]

Baby Wessex d9b [earthling]
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cameron stood in line for an hour for a stupid ride for me <3 best <3

Death, a metaphor {Sue x Orville blitz} Jun 2, 2015 18:07:21 GMT -5

Post by Baby Wessex d9b [earthling] on Jun 2, 2015 18:07:21 GMT -5

ORVILLE REED KING

The ax-ax-ax wielding man steps up to the podium. "That's rain in the desert," Orville says, seemingly to the boys in his pens. But he isn't talking to them, because they can't make sense of right and wrong. Only the ghosts can do that. They've been whispering for weeks now about a little slip of paper with ORVILLE REED KING written on it. They can't be wrong.

He rolls his shoulders, one at a time, as his peers disperse. He mumbles to himself, about injustice and quill nibs, and invisible ink. He doesn't even realize he's walking into the justice building until a Peacekeeper grabs his shoulder. Orville passes him the one slip he's sure isn't filled with invisible ink. The man in white taps his ID and pushes him through a door.

The room is full of ghosts. He smiles shyly at his sister, averts his gaze when his brother turns. But it's Sue who's contemplating the other side, through dust and glass. "You gotta talk sideways at 'em," Orville recommends, because he's been talking to ghosts for so long, he's forgotten how to talk to the living. They are incomprehensible and prone to metaphor and so very loud -

Orville shakes his head, and when that didn't dispel the ghosts, he rakes his chin along the top of his shoulder, stubble pilling his polo shirt. They will not be so easily dismissed. They have to know, so he had to know. Orville paces closer to the ax man, his shoulders hunched, his eyes unfocused. At the last second, he straightens his spine, and smiles.

And then he lunges.

Both of his gangly hands wrap around Sue's neck, squeezing once. "Just had to make sure," he says between heavy breaths, "that you had a strong neck."

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Death, a metaphor {Sue x Orville blitz} Jun 6, 2015 20:06:51 GMT -5

Post by Deleted on Jun 6, 2015 20:06:51 GMT -5

S U E T A T E

The glass strangles him.

One hand on the window, body heat leaving an everlasting impression on the fragile object, while his other hand rolls a dented, mangled, and twisted nail between it's fingers, feeling the metal on his skin, feeling the point scrape against fingernails that house dirt underneath them.

He stops when the nail slips from his grasp, falling falling falling through the air before it clinks to the ground, sprinting dashing rolling away underneath the sofa, same from the grasp of a sinner.

One sigh, two frowns, and three rat-a-taps of fingers against glass. He listens to the trembling of a loose windowsill before stooping down away from the reflection, going towards the sofa.

Thats when he hears him.

"You gotta talk sideways at 'em,"

One side frown, two eyebrows creased together in confusion

One grin as he looks up and spots a human metaphor in front of him.

No visitors, no hopes, no expectations, thats what he'd expected from the Justice Building and his time here.

"Orvi-"

He jumps, legs springing a tiny body towards him and for a few split moments Sue thinks the boy is jumping at him for a final hug.

Strange, for he'd think Orville would consider him a stranger.

Even stranger, Orville's hands wrap around his throat.

One strangled choke, Orville backs off quickly.

"Just had to make sure,"

Sue gathers his breath.

"that you had a strong neck.."

One hand rubbing his neck, Sue reaches down underneath the couch, hand swiping on creaky floorboards before plucking his nail from the abyss.

He plops down on the sofa and cringes at the squeaky springs.

"Thanks for coming, Orv."

He slides the screw through his fingers.