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It starts out innocently enough. One day, Ghoul just wakes up angry, but honestly that's nothing alarming. His anxiety tends to manifest as anger in the first place, and a lot has happened this month. Of course he'd be stressed, right? And of course he'd want to spend obnoxious amounts of time around the Girl and Party. At first, that's all it is- Ghoul hovering close by, smothering the both of them with fussy attention. But it snowballs.

Ghoul develops an annoying habit of herding everyone in to the same room and pacing around like a caged animal, keeping a watchful eye on his people. Early suggestions that they all travel outside in a group quickly turn in to Ghoul shutting down any ideas of leaving the house at all- it's better if they all stay inside, anyway.

He also begins needling out nitpicky little fights due to his need to control everything and everyone all the time... And he even sets traps. Small things that could be dismissed as an accident... Hip-checking an open drawer while someone's hand is inside. Teetering heavy cans and jars on the edges of their shelves so they'll topple on to whoever opens the cabinets. Leaving out furniture and shoes in heavy-traffic areas, perfect for tripping over. Anything to cause small injuries that he can swoop in and nurse, or present as an excuse for why no one can go anywhere. Can't walk through town with a twisted ankle, after all! Even the poor cat ends up on house arrest.

But it'll all turn out fine. Probably. Until someone gets seriously hurt. Or tries to escape. Or the house runs out of food.

Girl never thought of herself as someone clumsy. She could admit to her awkwardness, to all her social ills and rough edges, but she'd always believed she was surefooted. A klutz wouldn't last long in a life on the run. But after a long few days of tripping over chair legs and knocking cans off shelves, she was starting to think she might have a problem. A big one really, since with Party's arrival Girl felt the need to follow her boys everywhere and sore muscles didn't help her sneaking around.

Girl flops on the floor of their common area, watching Ghoul putter around with hawk eyes. She keeps a hand up at her side, rubbing the forming bruise on her ribs. Who trips into a corner, really? She's sure the table had been closer to the wall this morning when she'd been following the cat through the house.

"What's with furniture that's so pointy? That shit hurts." Girl whines. Worse than her sudden, growing need to keep her eyes on the Killjoys at all times is her reversion to childishness. It's like she believed if she acted like a kid, they'd stick close by to fuss over her like one.

"Whatcha got goin' on, littlebit?" Ghoul finishes walking his shark-circle around the living room outfit, tossing his phone on to the couch as he perches himself on the edge of the low coffee table near Girl. Because this is how furniture works.

"Y'blow out a side panel?" Girl babying her ribs (and babying her voice) doesn't go unnoticed. It has the desired effect. All of his attention is on her, and his face remains curious and sympathetic- even though he feels incredibly self-satisfied to see that his tricks have been paying off.

She leans back on one hand, using the other to roll up the side of her tank and show off the red spot. Girl wrinkles up her nose, staring up at him. It takes a bit of effort to keep from looking smug over how easily she got his attention.

"Smacked into your chair there." She drops her shirt and frowns. "I swear shit's been all over the place. Girl taps her knee. "I think my bed moved. And I keep findin' stuff layin' out where I know no one's dumb enough to leave 'em."

The look she gives Ghoul is suspicious. "You don't think this place comes with haunted houses, do you?"

"Shit, girl." She sure did clip herself on some furniture, and pretty good, too. Nothing worth a clinic visit, but he's sure the irritated skin will end up bruising. He grins at her even though this isn't much of a laughing matter- he's probably smiling over the joke he's about to tell, and not over the idea that he's some kind of sly mastermind... It would just be weird if he were proud over purposely injuring his own family...

"Shoulda got a seein' eye dog instead of a cat, huh?" He leans down, giving one of her shins a good-natured swipe after she asks about ghosts. "Prolly are all kinda haunts around here. Everything else's game, why not those?" Shrug. Great idea, though. Blame it on ghosts! "You ain't spooked, are ya?"

She groans, pulling back her legs and scooting a few centimeters away from his swatting hands. Girl rolls her eyes, an exaggerated motion that ends with an indulgent smile. "You try findin' anything four legged out in the sands. Lucky enough to find the cat. 'sides, he's great at findin' things."

Telling her about those things? Not so much.

"Ain't scared of nothin'." It's a blatant lie. He's already seen her freaking out, he knows how fragile her emotions are. Fear isn't a stretch after all that. That doesn't stop Girl from jutting out her jaw and puffing up her chest. She might as well fake it. "Just sayin' it'd be weird. You're right that stuff's all messed up here. Maybe that's why they're lettin' us have the free houses. It's all haunted and those gods are laughin' at us 'bout it."

"Fuck!"

It's in a moment of distraction that Party finds himself in the kitchen, going through a drawer - was he looking for something to eat with? Something to use for entirely practical reasons, or something else entirely messed up? Well, it doesn't really matter, because his fingers are suddenly crushed when the drawer is swung closed on them.

He quickly pulls his hand away with a hiss and holds it up to his mouth, like that'll do anything. He's then leaning and holding his hurt hand, making a bigger scene of things that a mere injury usually would.

He'd been keeping an eye on the both of them all day. It hadn't been too hard - even if he mostly kept to his own room, or sitting on the stairs just past the bend, they didn't seem to really leave the same wrong, not for long. In fact, he had been the first to stray, and is, apparently, paying for it.

"Shit--" How dare he do that to him? He'd been so good in keeping an eye on them, keeping them safe, keeping them inside where nothing can get to them. He shouldn't have left....

Edited 2018-03-01 23:42 (UTC)

"What happened?" Ghoul was already lurking close by (he had to be, in order to knock the drawer shut in the first place), but now he steps in even closer, invading Party's personal space and questioning him like he has no idea what's going on.

"Wassat me? I didn't mean to," he says, almost a little too robotically as he reaches out for Party's wrist. "Fuck, c'mere, lemme see-"

Of course it was you. What else would it be? Are the drawers magical too? Fuck you.

Thoughts that would've made sense. Thoughts that would be natural for him, from him. But they don't quite make it past the newly added filter, substituting the exaggerated frustration for messed up satisfaction of having his attention, of things that fit together, even when it comes with the expense of physical harm.

It's okay. It's okay, he deserved it, he faltered and got his eyes off them. This makes sense, everything is right.

He lets Ghoul take his wrist, knuckles red, but he'll live.

"Hurts." Well, yeah, of course. "Easy." Because he'll switch between watchful statue and wilting flower as quick and as often as he needs to get what he wants.

Girl doesn't think it should come as a surprise she's being clingy. Party just arrived and with their initial miscommunication of who she was, it was only natural she's eager to catch up. She thinks the argument extends to Ghoul too. It's not like it's been that long since he arrived, and why shouldn't she prefer they all stick together while they have the chance? There's nothing unreasonable about following them around the house. Or sitting in the hall when they're in the bathroom. Or trying to stay awake all night to watch them sleep. She's the one who spent years alone, of course she wants to spend every second she can with her people again.

It's not like it really matters if they don't quite want the same thing.

Besides, it's so easy to get around any annoyed feelings. Girl was the baby of the group, she knew how to charm her way out of trouble. Or at least whine her way out of it. Pulling out the wide eyes and pouts worked when she was five. Why shouldn't it now when someone was mad she wouldn't let them take a leak alone?

At first, there's something in Party's head that has a hell of a lot of trouble processing nearly opposing feelings.

For the first few weeks, it had been hard. She was different, older, the picture wasn't right. She smiled less, she was less naive about all of the things, and that made it all the harder to look at her. To talk to her. It wasn't hatred, no, nor anger, not quite hurt-

But all of that is entirely drowned out in the first hours of the first day.It stops mattering - that she's different, that she's older, that's wrong. Nothing else matters besides that she's his lil' bit, his atom bomb, his baby girl.

He's sitting in the stair steps, where he can keep an eye on most of the living room. Maybe too far away, but it's the most practical spot, so some sacrifices must be made...

She comes out of the kitchen area, the cat she'd been chasing around successfully caught in her arms. The poor creature's tail is twitching in agitation. He doesn't look too happy about Girl's constant attention. She looks pleased with herself, smiling bursting across her face as sudden as a flare when she notices Party tucked away in the staircase. The smile drops just as quickly, though the self satisfaction stays in her eyes.

"What'd you doin'?" The awkwardness between them had dissipated into thin air. She could barely remember why she'd felt awkward around Party in the first place. He only ever wanted what was best for her, had only ever been her friend. Avoiding him had been stupid. That's why she wants to make up for it now. "Haven't see you half the mornin'."

Avoiding? Who's avoiding? Who was avoiding? He can't reject what happened that while back - all the awkwardness, fear, even the confusion - event the last one's gone, given way to intense, obsessive focus.

He stays sat on the step, vaguely wishing the cigarette pack in his pocket wasn't empty. How long has it been? How many days since he ended up here? He's not good at keeping up with hours and daylight works differently here. Biting on his nails doesn't have the same effect.

But all of that dissipates fully when the Girl looks at him, speaks to him. He feels a wave of...excitement? Or happiness? Maybe those words don't fit, but it's something positive.

"Hangin'. Gone no where." Hasn't left the house, he means, and he has no intention to. There's too much space out there. Too many people that might distract them, take them away. Nah, he's not letting that happen.

"Must have been sneakin' 'round the place," she says, eyes narrowing suspiciously before she smiles again. She'd been worried, not seeing him while she'd been busy searching the house for the cat and Ghoul. Every time any of them were out of her sight for more than a few seconds, she began to panic. Having two of them to follow is becoming a problem for one person.

But now that she's found him again, Girl feels better. All's right again with the world. She sits on the floor near the foot of the stairs so she can stare up at him. Girl tries to force the cat to lay in her lap.

"What's the plan today?" Where's he going, how can she follow? She's got to plan for these things. See if she can convince him to stay here instead. "We got plenty of shit here, so it's not like we gotta go lookin' for stuff or anything."

He watches her closely, expression blank but seemingly focused, all on her. There's a little something in the back of his head, questioning where Ghoul's gone, but the Girl is right here. Atom Bomb is right here, and that's where his priorities need to lie right now.

"No plan. S'all good on supplies." He checked, of course, he'd been checking, in an attempt to feel useful, to get his tasks back, to be something. But it had soon devolved into making different plans. No one needed to go out, therefore he didn't need to wrangle the both of them and Ghoul and worry about outsiders.

No, this is fine. They could stay in here for a good few days, if they took it easy. House's pretty stocked.

"Pretty shiny."

Party's never been one to keep direct eye contact for long, unless he was posing himself as threatening. Well, it doesn't look like he's having any trouble staring at her right now. Does she know he does love her? He's so sorry for being so cold before.

She hums under her breath, scratching the cat on the back of his neck and smiling down at her lap. No one's going anywhere and the confirmation feels her with a smug kind of relief. It saves her from having to trick everyone into staying in. Now she just has to worry about getting Party and Ghoul into the same room.

"Good. Yeah, shiny," Girl repeats, bringing her chin up to meet his gaze. Staring, back home at least, usually meant confrontation. It's one of the reasons she grew to duck away from prying eyes, worried that every too-long glance would lead to a fire fight. But now her staring is unabashed and Girl feels nothing but pleased. How long has it been since she had been able to study Party's face like this?

"I'm real glad, Party." There's something bubbling in her chest, the low burn of affection she's always felt for him rising to the surface. She can't remember how she got through all those years without him. "Glad you're here."

Zones worked on very specific rules. Some of them, surprisingly - or not - almost animalistic. Don't stare, don't make eye contact unless you want to start something. Make yourself big and threatening. Keep in packs for safety.

But he still stares, at the Girl, at her cat, for as long as they keep in his field of view. Her smile feels sweet and familiar. He doesn't even notice anything, just that his Girl is sitting right there, bright and cheerful as non-lethal sunlight, and there's something akin to genuine happiness and satisfaction somewhere in his chest. Nothing fighting it, nothing threatening to cut it down. For once, it's...simple. It's good.

~~It's deathly unnatural. Wake up wake up wake up.~~

"Yeah?" He isn't one for smiles, but his focus stays. He scratches at the side of his head.

She looks back down to her lap. Her cheeks feel sore from the strange amount of smiling she's done the past few days. She hasn't had many chances to be happy in such a long time. But this smile turns a shade embarrassed.

Girl was always a little more free with how she felt. It came with being a child, the only child among people trying to make a world where she could feel free, the only child who had never known the bitter taste of suppressing pills or the sound of suggestion in her ear. She'd grown unmoored, never held down by the memory of being a blank slate. But she's still grown in the desert wastes, where showing too much could rub someone raw and there was always another shoe to drop.

Unbridled happiness felt strange. Almost unearned.

"I missed you. Always used to wonder what you'd do if you were 'round. What you'd say or how you'd handle something. If that what I should do." His ways were -are- violent, but she's always idolized him. She saw -still sees- bravery in the rage. "Now you're back and I don't gotta wonder anymore."

Oh, those words. Oh, that idolization that brings warmness to his heart. Something fading keeps trying to pull, trying to wash out that rare feeling. But it's losing this battle. Party can barely feel it.

"Yea'?" There's something to his voice. Light surprise, maybe? Excitement? Warmth? Something good, something new. She loves him in a way he never expected to be loved. She looks at him like he's as hero. Like he's a good person. He wants...he wants to bask in that. That's not wrong. No, it's not. This is how things should be. Show her that he appreciates how much she loves him.

"But did it work?"

"Followin' what I thought you'd do?"

Her mind freezes, something pressing against the blind haze of wanting to bask in his presence. It didn't, she didn't. She found her way not bathed in red but guided by a weary man who wanted to save her from his mistakes. She looks into the Party of her past and sees rage. Resistance. A fight to the bitter end. She chose peace instead.

Her heart sputters. She stalls, then smiles again.

"Got you back, didn't I?" There's the warm glow of Party-Party-Party filling up her chest again. "Followed the way right back to you, like chasin' a road flare to bright to ignore."

Rage didn't always work. No, not when it engulfs him the way he did. It's not that simple, oh how he wishes it were, he wishes he ever learnt how to focus that energy like a lazer, straight, fast, burning, without damaging himself and others in the process. But it doesn't work that way. It's wild, it's red, and it's overwhelming.

But that doesn't matter. None of this matters. None of the past matters, nothing besides the eyes that looked up at him then, and look up at him now.

He could learn to live this way.

" Like a satellite showin' you the way." He adds, linking their words together. It's like poetry.

~~Wake up wake up wake up. This isn't how it works. This isn't how the song goes. This isn't natural, this isn't right, this isn't this isn't this isn't WAKE UP~~

" M' here now."

He smiles, behind a idle hand resting up against his lips.

~~stop stop stop this isn't you~~

Edited 2018-04-13 20:22 (UTC)

It's almost the poetic back and forth that dominated her childhood, her education of the world around her coming in lyrics instead of from books. An oft-repeated lesson about the unity of the crew replaying in her mind, sewn together with a reminder not to trust when the feelings don't sit right, they stole her from the city so she'd never know what this was like-

Her smile shows too many teeth. She hasn't felt so light since the last time they were all together. "Better than a north star." But it's not quite the exhilaration of hanging out of the car window, music blasting and air stinging against her face. It's like empty calories, filling her all up but without the substance.

She reaches up just enough to touch his sleeve. "You are. All of you. Almost all of you. Kinda makes up for everything that had to happen to get here. Makes watchin' all that blood and shit feel like a bad dream."

The corner of his lip twitches in reaction to the last part, words of things he can't forget ever. Images that come to him when he closes his eyes, keeping sleep right outside the door. The sound of footsteps and burning, the sound of yells, screams, alarms, and his own heartbeat. The feeling of warm metal under his jaw and the breath of demon sent to get them--

Her eyes pull him back, and he's dizzy for a second. Doesn't matter. His chest feels hollow. Doesn't matter, she's here. He's here. It's fine.

He picks at the fabric over his knee. His smile faltered. It's uncomfortable, but it's not her. It doesn't matter, it doesn't matter, he's here now.

" Yea'."

It kind of makes up for it, but it doesn't. There's that gap in time when she was alone. Nothing in her veins but anger and fear, holding her back from walking forward. This is a bandage over a blaster wound, just hiding something festering beneath that she can't seem to make herself feel anymore. It's a blessing she never felt she deserved.

This is supposed to feel bittersweet. The entwinement of happiness and guilt running her hot and cold. Easy is not her destination. Easy is what Cherri had warned her about. What the Witch warned her about. Living is a complication, not this simple floating feeling.

She watches his smile shudder and wonders why it makes sweat prickle on the back of neck.

"You're not goin' anywhere again." If she says it aloud, it will become true. "None of us are. We don't need to."

"We're not going to." His words come quiet, and he's distracted, but he's not allowed to feel anything but obsessive possession. They're not going anywhere. They're stuck, but they're stuck together. An unheard sequel. Rats in a cage that looks bigger than it is, but at least they can huddle together for warmth.

It's all they could ever ask for.

He digs his nails on the jeans over his knee, forcing a smile with nothing natural to it. But who cares? Who cares? They've had worse- They've been worse. They're alive and breathing, as far as he can tell, and he couldn't ask for more. literally.

"We're home."

Words that would make him sick, if not for the veil the gods cast on his mind.

It fills her with relief to hear him confirm it. It's not even the strange hollow feeling everything had inspired in her the past few days, but a real flood of calm. A real smile on her face. There is nothing she fears more than to lose them again except the idea that they might leave of their own accord. They wouldn't, deep down she knows they wouldn't.

It's still a balm to an old wound to get his reassurance.

But it's another old wound that's irritated by it in turn.

"Home?"

Home had been lost years ago. Home had been a painted car and an open road. Home had been two others sitting with her in a broken diner booth. Home had been burned away with anger and regret.

This isn't home. It's a wrong idea. Wrong, wrong, wrong wrong wr-

Her smile drops. She feels strangely sick.

His smile drops just as quick, a small wave of panic washing over him. What did he do? What did he say? Did he hurt her feelings? Did he mess up again?

No. No no no no. No, he can't be the one that keeps making her smiles fade. He can't--

"S' wrong?"

"It's just a house, it ain't- back in the Zones, we-" She trips over words before she can register what she's saying, something hot and heavy pressing against her rib cage. It feels wrong to even be saying it. Party and Ghoul are here. She's supposed to be happy. She is happy, as long as she can keep them here. That's what she needs to focus on. She can't be chasing that strange feeling bubbling under her chest.

"It's nothin'." She scoots closer, looking up at him with wide eyes. She's making him upset. That's what she gets for letting her mind get away from her. Why should she care how wrong everything feels when watching that smile drop from his face feels so much worse? "I dunno. Are you mad?"

His heart is racing. It immediately hurts. A feeling too familiar for him to immediately register, but he's so worried, he's so scared he fucked up, he--

"N--what, no." He's not mad. He couldn't be mad. Not at her, never at her.

"I meant--we-" Words. Words words words. Quick. "We're home. Cuz--cuz we're together. Yeah?"

Stupid, stupid, stupid. Better off smiling and nodding.

"Yeah?" She digs for reassurance, leaning back with a sigh. He's not mad and that's good. She can work with that. He won't leave her if he's not mad.

"Crew's all we need," she says with a nod. It's not home. It's the thought that keeps blaring like an alarm in the back of her mind. But they'd always been home, hadn't they? Their little family that made a home of every shanty and crawl space they could find. Being together was all that ever mattered.

Right?

"We'll make it work anywhere."

"We will." And he clings to her relief.

A hand moves forward, like he's about to reach for her hand, but he pulls it back quickly. He's not good-- he can't- why? Act like a normal human being, Party Poison. But he's not- they're not--

He tries to shake off the conflicting thoughts. They're too distracting, he'll get lost, he'll get lost and he won't be able to pay attention to her. He can't. He won't. He needs to focus.

" We'll be fine."

She leans forward as he moves, an instinct breed of years by his side. She's disappointed when he pulls back. Party playing hot and cold is nothing new, but right now she wants that attention. Right now it spikes anxiety.

Why doesn't he want to touch her? He's says he's not angry, but what if he's lying? But Party wouldn't lie to her, right?

The questions twist in her head, making her nervous. She stays bent forward, smiling too wide. If she keeps acting happy, maybe he'll be happy. Fake it and they'll both make it.

"I know. You're right. Of course you're right."

He's taught her the worst lessons, hasn't he? Who would even be surprised? He ruins everything he--

Scratch that. Pay attention. She's there, looking at him. Focus, focus, keep her smile going. She'll be fine. He'll be fine. They'll be okay.

"Yea'." Don't lose the smile, frail and fake, but true for her. It's fine.

"...s' mighty quiet round here." But they're not going out. Too risky. Where's Ghoul?

She cocks her head, straining to hear now that he's brought her attention to the lack of noise. Girl's quiet for a long moment, even holding back her breath. She doesn't hear anything. "Quiet doesn't have to mean anything."

It's not necessarily a bad thing, right? There isn't a need for constant chaos. Maybe everyone's just sleeping. Maybe Ghoul's just sleeping. It hadn't been so long since she saw him, had it?

She shifts, getting antsy. "We could look 'round, if you think it's too quiet."

"Yea'." And yet he doesn't really want to risk moving much. She'll follow, he'll make sure, but...

"Mebbe we can do something else?" A distraction is just as good.

( closed )

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Later in the week

Re: Later in the week. Lets get emotionally fucked upppppp

wooooo

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