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Quickies with Naft
Oct 25 2016, 05:43 PM
this title is queer-baiting and now i'm offended and horny
Then mission accomplished.

Quickies with Naft
Here's episode 2!

This one features Laurels and criticism. Thanks again to RC and Cicada for helping me out. :)

I've Got No Strings
He turned his back, then, to allow Caedyn the privacy to change into a dead girl's clothes, eyes trained at the sky.

The sounds of corpse desecration filled his ears.

((Oskar Pearce, elsewhere)

SOTF Halloween Movie Night
Lol if this fucking thing is a tie again

I've Got No Strings
"Promise," he spat through dazed lips, and looked at her hand, wide eyed through ugly tears that made it longer, blurrier.

He didn't take it, but he let the gun fall further to his side, stared at the ground.

"Okay," he said, his voice quiet and watery.

SOTF Halloween Movie Night
Do a double feature!

I've Got No Strings
There were tears now, mixing with the drying gore on his face and mingling with the salt on his skin. They fell in between big gulping sobs, shaking his shoulders and making his lips curl inwards.

"I don't need," he said, but he did. Too much.

"Why is this happening."

I'll fill out your queue with Min-Jae.

(Can we request other handlers kids?)

I've Got No Strings
The right thing. Her or us. The right thing.

Caedyn had nodded to him.

She didn't give you any choice. The right thing.

Caedyn was speaking, still, speaking normally, as if he wasn't covered in someone else's blood.

Jane was dangerous.

Caedyn's tone was soothing, making his stomach twist, squeeze.

You saved both of us.

The gun came back up, pointed at Caedyn, now, and his eyes followed.

"I want you to leave."

I've Got No Strings
One eye twitched as he watched her - the smallest of movements - as the pistol still swayed from his fingers, gently moving from left to right.

"Y-" he started to say, before the coppery taste and scent of blood hit his tongue, forcing him to turn and cough - once, twice, before retching into the grass. Dry-heaving, really - nothing in his stomach to come up.

Oskar turned his head to spit, but stopped halfway, remembered himself, and used a sleeve to dab at his mouth, eyes trained now on his shoes.

"I guess," he said, unsure, shaky.

I've Got No Strings
Slowly, Oskar lowered the gun, his hands hurting from the kickback, eyes wide as he stared down at Jane's gurgling form. The pistol hung limp from his fingers, swaying lightly from side to side, the fingers of dawn still growing, stretching, as if to embrace what had just been done.

He turned towards Caedyn, and there were tears in his eyes, gore covering his face, his eyelids, staining his teeth coppery.

He stared at her.

I've Got No Strings
With the barrel still at her neck, indenting the skin around it, he flinched.

His finger squeezed the trigger, and suddenly he couldn't hear, smelled burning, and everything was wet.

I've Got No Strings
Oskar tilted the gun, then, pressing it against the soft flesh of Jane's neck.

"Back up," he said, and his tone made it sound like a question.

I've Got No Strings
The response had his eyebrows drawing down, teeth lightly gnawing at his lip just above the spiderbite.

"Jane," he said, and his voice quivered a little, "I've got the gun."

I've Got No Strings
Oskar advanced again - two steps forwards, more of a shuffle than an actual walk, adopting those stances that you saw on television. His lips twitched, eyes remained unblinking. Four good sized paces between them, now - nowhere to hide for at least half a dozen yards.

"Step back from it, Jane."

I've Got No Strings
Oskar reached backwards with his free hand, dug the weight from the base of his spine, and pulled the little pistol out, pointed it at Jane.

"You're not," he said, and, following the moonlit page instructions, flicked the safety off with his thumb.

His shield was down, now, the deft motion of the safety flicking off reminiscent of the daisy chains he'd crafted so carefully, fighting down panic. His mouth was a serious line, his open palm cupped under his hand - his gun hand - steadying the quake that threatened to betray him.

"Give it to me."

I've Got No Strings
Oskar's gaze flicked to Caedyn as Jane snapped back, eyes sliding back towards the animated girl, who had closed the distance between them.

He took another step towards her.

"Not a thing," he said, keeping those soothing tones, one hand stretching forwards again, "not a thing. We don't want this to get violent, just..."

He flexed the fingers of his open hand.

I've Got No Strings
Oskar reached towards her, palm outstretched, and crooked his fingers.

"Listen, let's not make this, y'know. Difficult."

He smiled, talked in a soothing voice.

"Give me the pack, please."

I've Got No Strings
"Mm," said Oskar in reply, continuing to advance towards her. They were a half-dozen paces apart, his footfalls feeling heavier, forced, a quaking in his lower lip that he shifted his head downwards to hide.

In his mind, he looked brave as he approached - the image of control. He pictured it so clearly, even when he fought against his limbs, trying to keep them straight and true.

There was a weight in the waistband of his shorts, related to the little book he'd read by moonlight in the shadow of the tree.

"We will be," he said, his right hand coming up, gesturing towards the bag she had.

"With that."

Three sentences about your kid: Critique experiment.
And the Queue is now open.

Bring them the fuck on.