call me { b r o k e }

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call me { b r o k e } Apr 18, 2017 15:42:23 GMT -5

Post by Deleted on Apr 18, 2017 15:42:23 GMT -5

M C C R E E

There's just somethin bout bein round these parts that really gives you the knack of fuckin up - "if you ain't ever fallen off the horse, you ain't been riding long enough" and all that. Mercy just says I'm too hard on myself, but I reckon she might just be too soft anyhow; I don't mean to be rude, love her to death but she'd knit sweaters for a murderer.

My bad, bad metaphor - we're all some murderers round here. Forgot.

You're just too negative, I can hear it now, Mercy's ole ringing in my ear, swearin it ain't all bad and in some parts it's not - Shimada ones to name some specifics. He's still plannin on murderin me but honey that's somethin I can get behind - I'm all paranoid anyways that the big bad spider's gonna get me first. See, I've said it once, I've said it twice and probably a million times to a million different people, but there's differences between vigilantes and murderers. Somehow.

Somewhere.

Reaper ain't stoppin for nobody but his own namesakes, Widow and I came to a lil agreement - I think. They stay off my ass, I stay off their's; pardon my french darling but that sounds fuckin terrible. Between goddamn death himself, Tracer robbin me blind with her damned swear jar, Mercy snatchin cigarettes out my mouth and Hanzo-
Hanzo.

I'm comin to terms that this ain't no place for cowboys.

Rippin the advertisement off my apartment door, big ole red letters of "SMOKING KILLS" crushed up on the walk between room 106 and 111 - "ZO-AYYY" I'm a lil sick 'n tired of knitting therapy. See, I've fallen off this damn horse as many times as Zoe Yates's warned me all on cigarette risks but I'm still walkin', marlboro in my teeth.

"Ya gotta stop sayin I'm damn dyin," made note to light the cigarette on the walk over but starin Zoe in the face and smokin is a lot harder than it ought to be. The smokin kills flyer in my left fist, propped gainst their apartment room, "either that or pay for my coffin, shit."

Jokes and all but hell- I may need to cash that offer in.

[ firestorm ]

Last Edit: Apr 30, 2017 16:08:00 GMT -5 by Deleted

[nyte]
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oof

call me { b r o k e } May 28, 2017 1:40:28 GMT -5

Post by [nyte] on May 28, 2017 1:40:28 GMT -5

zoe yates

It smells dreadful. Fills my lungs with the rot of death and whenever I see the smoke curling off of his lips I think I feel my heart break a little. Jessie is not one to think of his mortality every time a lighter's flame kisses his favorite poison and so I found that the burden falls to me. We're all in this together, hands cuffed by threats and forced into companionship. Foolishly, I thought it would be easy to make him stop.

I'm not used to being this powerless. My tongue once wove tales so sweet a man would lay down his life for a glimpse at its promises. These days, it cannot even stop a man from killing himself.

Frustration is not an emotion I'm used to. Calm smiles and hours of meditation had left me somewhat detached from it all- allowed me to grow callous to the suffering of men at my command. Now this all feels like a freshly dug wound,

He digs the blade deeper the moment he approaches me with death between his lips. My smile is obviously forced when I greet him- giving a feeble wave before rushing to bury my nose into pages full of less painful reality. Literature has become my escape from all of this. From the monster I had become and just how brutally that monster was slain.

How glad I am that he is dead.

Deflection. My incarceration has not left me blind to the desperate begging of hurting men. He jokes, asks me to stop or to pay for his coffin and I cannot help how my face falls the minute he says it.

The book is closed and set beside me, hands instead folded in my lap as I force my eyes to meet his. "I just want to help you, Jessie. I apologize if I have taken it too far, it was never my intention." Lying is a dirty thing, however only a fool does not manipulate the truth to fit his own narrative. I meant to scare Jessie, I meant to help him realize just how dangerous his habit is, but I suppose my methods were far too aggressive.

"I don't like to watch my friends kill themselves, is all."

And I know that such passive aggression is not much better but for once I cannot control the words that spill from between my lips.