since it’s scream night, like this for a starter based on tonight’s halloween special ! scream mutuals only please. I have another starter call which can be located here.
❝ ugh, did you have to pick a slasher ? you couldn’t have gone for something a little more — I don’t know — hocus pocus ? ❞
never a fan of the holiday in the first place/ though shoulders are still elevated in irritation. there’s no offense taken : just an eye roll, tagged along with a raise of the brows.
fond of something so little, so sweet&so simple. soul made of serenity&valiance, lion - hearted, lion - teethed. petals spread wider, whites flashing, scars on porcelain dermis following, fresh breath of air being taken. digits sprint through berrylocks,&whilst her attention focused upon the blonde, she still managed to fiddle with the thing nearest to her, —————— she can’t sit still.❛we could put jelly in his hat. or in her boots. or pumpkin seeds in her bag. —- —— —- your choice.❜
doe eyes wander in boredom, hues of flaxen turning as visage locks a view on potential victims. they’re harmless pranks of course —— & townies needed something to entertain themselves with ! ruby - flushed porcelain rests on frigid knuckles, lips perfectly plumped. optics squinting as she eyes fresh meat. ❝ how about HIM ! ❞
she points, teeth gnawing on petals as she looks at her friend. ❝ he’s — kinda cute. got any genius ideas ? ❞ october : death’s affair. death was in the air / death was alive.
“brooke.” how is it possible that a single word can carry so much meaning? it is just a name. it should not be dripping with desperation. sadness and regret. but it is. there is just too much history. there is brooke almost dying twice now, because of her. there is emma trusting the wrong people and getting their friends killed. there is so much left unsaid – words that fly unsaid between the two of them as the girl stands by the hospital door. millions of sentences fill a troubled mind. i am sorry. i should have known better. i am sorry. i love you. are you okay? i am sorry. i am so sorry. nothing seems to sound good enough. how does one apologize for sleeping with a monster? how does one apologize for being the reason your best friend almost died? how does one even deal with all that guilt? she has no idea. all she knows is that brooke is alive. and, for a second, that’s all she focuses on – that her best friend is okay. “i came as soon as i – i came as soon as i could. are you alright?” // @girlsorrowed♥‘d.
THEY ARE TRAGEDY SWATHED. the range of sunny hues / drenched in a rain storm of crimson. they are the scratched flesh ; the shrieks in cold weather. they are the cries for help, damsels that reside under a hunter’s blade. & though they have survived —————— they have not been spared. they may never be.
her friend spills out agony,& guilt. quite a familiar feeling for the mayor’s daughter, with a choking heart of loss every time a happy thought attempts to make itself comfortable in a withering mind. once living a life so vapid : now DROWNING in a pool of calamity. & while the evil certainly outweighed the good, there was still light — for they had each other. the remaining members of THE LAKEWOOD SIX, now stripped down to the core four. with one attacked by the shadows & another hiding in them, it was key to stick together. despite the loss, the lies, the trauma. the twisted tests of young sanity. she could never blame her friend. not when they’re stained with the same misery.
a slim frame makes an attempt to sit up in her hospital bed, though her wounds build a barrier from any form of comfort. she tears up at the thought. having to once again go through the HORROR that the tip of a knife causes. bringing back memories from last october : all that carnage / all those souls that were defeated by the lethal wolf. her core forever resting in a puddle of woe.
lips tighten before positioning into a slight frown. she feels tired, defeated. keeping a facade up for so long / time has come for it to shatter.
❝ e-emma. emma, are– are you okay ? ❞ not even paying attention to the question emma had originally asked, for she is focused on her safety. ( & her sanity. )
❛ nice try, really —– points for trying. but seriously, did you think you could fool ME ? out of ALL people, come on brookie. we both know nothing around here happens without me finding out.
❜
optics are squinted, ruby petals ——— plumped. her friend oozes intimidation, & chaos. but there’s possession of ROYAL BLOOD nonetheless. a stare makes itself comfortable upon white porcelain. she may have an idea, though weary mind is mostly unaware of nina’s exact reasoning for the DESTRUCTION she was starting.
❝ nina, school literally started an hour ago. what could I possibly have done wrong now ? ❞
her words seep confusion, wrapped in a blanket of melancholy. exhaustion ; in dire need of rest from unwanted antics.
send me a crystal ! : fossil / what my muse’s dream job is.
meme. status : accepting.
this is an important q because it goes along with my future verse, which I have yet to write much about. anyways. since brooke was a little girl, she’s ALWAYS had an interest in fashion. whether it be clothes, jewelry. her mom had done some work with fashion shows before her addiction issues came into play, & she was always allowing brooke to come with her when she was younger. viewing the models backstage —— so alluring & decked in beautiful clothes from head to toe. it really sparked in interest in brooke, causing her todress to impressfrom an early age, no matter where she was. so, to sum it all up —— brooke’s dream job is definitely to have her own line of fashion. something she can create, something to call her’s.
‘HEY, HEY — ’ voice comes after a tirade of half drunken laughter between friends, a sense of innocence ; of normalcy that had been long forgotten. she reached out, carefully touching the blonde’s arm to still the direction of the alcohol in her hand. ’i know we’re celebrating the fact that our lives are no longer being monitored by a demented psychopath, but maybe you should slow down, ’ she wasn’t trying to be a buzzkill, contrary to what brooke may or may not believe, but maybe they were all still a little bit damaged beneath the surface. maybe that empty feeling would never fully subside. ’FIVE DRINKS IN AN HOUR is new, even for you. ’@girlsorrowed !
such tone causes a swift turn off golden hues / weary optics studying her friend. a blank expression carves its way into white porcelain. A VISAGE THAT USED TO start fires, now embodying death. though her flashy outfits try to shift the attention elsewhere.
but GLAMOUR won’t diminish GLOOM ——— an eternal bracket of the crimson / carnage that has built a home inside their hollow bones. but alas, how long can angels reject the shadows ? devilry’s targets for oh so long. MALEVOLENCE : a reaper’s blade has placed itself in their path.
& by now she’s drunk;making attempts to suppress her sorrows into a solo cup. a strategy that helps — sometimes. but one can never neglect horrors their eyes have witnessed.
❝ wow, i’m sorry ——— last time I checked, MY MOTHER was in rehab ! ❞
SUCH DEFENSIVE response ; her attitude towards the chocolate layered girl next to her had been anything but WARM as of late. maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was her lack of closure. she knows her friend means well. she hopes. ❝ ——— i’m fine. ❞
