01 🍆 [catch-all] with a graveyard tan carrying a cross;

[pillz]

Characters: Joseph Kavinsky & whoever wants in! Currently just a beleaugered grandmother!
Summary: Trolls gonna troll, even after the apocalypse— especially after the apocalypse. Will write starters in comments, the entry is empty. Feel free to PP or PM me if you want something particular.
Date(s): Catch-all for the foreseeable future
Warnings/Notes: Character carries a general warning for offensive language (racist, homophobic, sexist language, rude remarks about consent), as well as mental illness and drug use.



D: like i said

Comments

[pillz]

[kavinsky walks his feet to a stop under an archway. his narrow chest is still going up and down, chagrined breaths through gritted teeth. huge pupils and sweat a sheen on his forehead. remember back when you had biological functions and sweated sometimes, axel? it wasn't

actually that great a time. the scent of kavinsky's blood warms the air. sharp, tinny. the injury is too minor to even consider a hospital facility, but it hurts— and it hurts well, burning hotly in his hand, making kavinsky think about cutting the fucking thing off at the wrist, for mere escalation's sake. not that you have places to escalate once the apocalypse itself has happened.

he pulls his arms free of the vampire. yanks his shirt straight. hackling at nothing. at his heel, moonshine is craning her head up at them anxiously.]

Fuck it, grandma. If I did kill my motherfucking timeline, probably some fucking neon green portal would open up, swallow me, and shit me out in fucking Disney World. [he leans and spits at the corner of the floor.] Curiouser and fucking curiouser. Live without your sunlight, love without your heartbeat. Shit, grams. What's the point?

[pillz]

[the boy cuts an irritable stare at his """grandmother""" at that.] The alternative is fucking inevitable, [he says, but it isn't an actual argument, just pointing out distractor facts, the way that spaceships on tv sometimes tactically evacuate garbage to distract pursuers. he shakes his head, walking past his dog-- almost walking on her— to get over to another big slab of technology nearby.

at least he only sits on this one, instead of trying something yet more unimaginable and pointless. breaking his feet on it with infantile kicks, maybe. he crosses his arms, his bloodied knuckles tucking up under his arms in a way that's neither particularly hygienic nor especially dangerous to his health. his eyes cut across axel's face, studying the vampire's for a long moment. for even the faintest hint of insincerity. (or the dilated pupils of predatory interest, either way.)

his hands are pulsing like a drum.]

Are you? [he asks suddenly.] That what your terrified face looks like, Johnson?

[last names. that's how you know kavinsky is in edgelord mode. he is definitely not the subtlest young man that axel has ever met.]

[pillz]

[the silence is heavy and cold for a long, long moment. kavinsky is uncharacteristically still in the midst of it, standing there, eyes glowering and skinny shoulders hunched.]

Dead is inevitable, g-maw, [kavinsky says. but it's without heat this time or any kind of flailing aggression misdirected at inanimate objects. it's a factual sentence, or near enough. but simply saying it, putting it up on the wall next to what axel had just stated about here-and-now-- maybe that makes it a less sensational, a little less concrete as a risk and terror. death was always inevitable. remembering that it exists doesn't make it more likely to happen and

as axel says, it isn't particularly likely to happen here. kavinsky stares at nothing for a moment. then it occurs to him again that his knuckles hurt. he scowls suddenly (and closely attuned, his dog raises her ears, though she wasn't looking at him; she had been studying axel's knees with detached interest).]

I thought you were all about the rolling in pointless shit over low-probability scenarios. What gives? And, [he shakes his hands out, twisting them up to look at his bloodied knuckles.] You know how to run those hospital machines?