[ it's possible she might start typing this and then delete it at least three different times before she actually sends it. ]
Hey, so now that we aren't actively trying to drive through a sandstorm, I was thinking of walking around town, getting a sense of what's available in terms of food.
ok so now that we've got the whole "omg you're a witch, kai!" and "yes, please don't tweet about it" convo done, i was thinking we could do some home renovations
it'll be way quicker now that i don't have to pretend i'm nonmagical
should we go wistful beige or baby blue for the walls?
except you forgot the part where i'm still FURIOUS with you for keeping that little detail to yourself when you could have made our lives a thousand times much easier much earlier.
that's right, cobra kai. i'm still mad at you. 😤😤😤
Okay, let me just preface this by saying this is probably going to sound weird, but my roommate isn't here right now and I kinda need girl help.
I'm having trouble with showers. As in I can't seem to make myself get in one. Physically.
[ it probably has something to do with those wings on her back, but she's not going to lead with that. ]
Anyway, what I'm saying is that if you're not super busy I could use some help with my hair. I can probably manage everything else myself, but there's parts that can't get wet
[ this is not coming out right. ]
What I mean is that parts of me have to stay dry. Like, really dry.
[ she says it's going to sound weird, but there's a lot weird already happening at the moment, and maybe it's something to do with how keen her hearing is or that her feet suddenly move much faster than it should but — yeah, it's all definitely weird.
the request she gets though is ... something. ]
So you just need help washing your hair? I mean I've heard a lot weirder than that.
[Addy gets a no context pic. It's a distant shot at night, but despite the fact the subject was in motion, the quality isn't too terrible given the Fluid's night vision functionality. Something is crawling up the side of a building, disappearing over the edge of the roof. One can make out a hunched back, long back legs ending in wickedly dexterous claws, and an even longer, sinewy tail.
[ the worst kind of text to get from anyone ever is "look at this weird thing i found". and from how well she knows 10k, she knows he can have a fair brand of "weird", so she's almost a bit wary when she goes to open up to the picture he's sent, squinting heavily when she sees the blur of it, trying to making out what she's —
oh.
good thing she's got the fluid strapped to her wrist, otherwise it'd be knocking down straight to the floor right now. ]
[ have a view of the now squeaky clean, stench free living room, addy. ]
I burned all of them outside. It was super fun. Wish you could have been here for it, but I know you're busy doing Addy things. [ camera pans to the outside where there is still a nice fire going. ]
Oh. Wait. Should I have saved some for Dana? [ a pause. ] Nah, I'll stock up on fresh meat from the grocery store.
[ he looks much better off than her. magic is great for keeping things hands free, especially when it comes to digging human organs out of the walls and floors. finally turning the screen on himself, he looks a little put out. ]
I know. I realized it was a dumb line of thought the moment I said it.
( it's the second time she's been to his apartment but this time, he hasn't threatened to kill her and he doesn't expect to fall asleep on her. instead, they'd decided to spar. she's dressed for it and he is too once he pulls his shirt off (because of course he was going to do that just to be an asshole).
amos has to admit that she's given him more of a challenge than he'd expected when they'd decided to do this. she's smaller, of course, but scrappy, resilient and fast. he has the size and the reach but he lacks in quickness and agility.
and he pays for that. as promised, she doesn't go easy on him and he respects her too much to go easy on her. so, he's made sure she's hit the floor just as many times as she's shoved him into a wall or gotten him off his feet.
it's actually an enjoyable experience. it's good to get some aggression out but not have it backed and motivated by pure anger.
they're both still on their feet when she comes at him and he manages to catch her against him, stopping her momentum, twisting a hip and tossing her over and onto the ground before following her down and pinning her wrists to the floor. )
I win.
( unless she can somehow figure out how to get up and out of his grip, he's going to call this one a victory for space and a loss for the zombie apocalypse. )
[ he'd always had the advantage, and any quick look at their bodies side by side would attest to that considering his larger build and firmer muscles. but addy wasn't something to laugh at either, and she hadn't been even in the early years of the outbreak, so with a few more years after that under her belt, she was her own ongoing force in a fight.
even if he's bound for a win, she doesn't allow him to maintain it easily, putting all her weight into every swing and kick, every thrust of her body, making sure he knows full well that size isn't everything, and strategy and speed have their advantages even between drastically different opponents.
but her fall to the floor is hard, and she can't mask the helpless grunt when she's on her back; it's a good thing she'd worn leggings, otherwise her pants might have ripped with the force of it.
she squirms against his hold, but even if she could manage some swift escapes on her feet, her vulnerable position now keeps her from getting out from beneath the strength of his hands. it doesn't help that the ongoing fight has tired her out for as long as they've kept it going, her chest rising and falling with quickened breaths, sweat clinging stray strands of her bundled hair to the skin of her cheeks. in any case, it's hard to want to move with the sight above her, the naked skin of his chest painted in sweat of his own, biceps firmer still from how his arms stretch out to hold her down. ]
Are you sure? [ she asks despite the stretch of a grin that follows, her body shaking from a quiet defeated laugh. ] You're lucky as hell I didn't have my bat.
[ if this were a real fight and she were armed, she doubts she'd be the one on the floor. ]
( something's different. amos knows that something is different immediately. he opens his eyes but there's nothing but blackness there. he closes them again because it doesn't fucking matter.
he's not in the ruins anymore, he can tell. there's now other sounds, no other people around him, unable to see, unable to do anything. he can't hear holden off in the distance, trying to be a goddamn hero.
it's silence, quiet, clean. he swallows. there's still a gun in his lap and his hands are still wrapped around it, tightly, like it's the only thing keeping him afloat.
and maybe that's true. maybe it's the only thing he can rely on.
he doesn't know how he makes it out onto the street but he does. he doesn't know what he looks like, how he's come back, only that there's a gun in his hand and blackness in front of his eyes.
out here, he can hear sounds. people. they move past him, around him, in front of him and amos grips the gun harder and harder, unable to control the rising anxiety and anger that seems to bubble up.
it overflows when someone bumps his shoulder. it snaps like a taut piano string and amos lashes out, swinging the rifle towards his person and then holding the gun down in the area of the sound of pain. he doesn't say anything, just keeps the gun trained on where he thinks this person is, eyes unseeing and unfocused. )
[ by the latter half of second day, it'd become weird not to hear from him at all, and though she'd hardly categorize herself as the clingy type, she knows in a place like this, it's a good idea to take precautions in making sure people are still breathing. after stopping by the junkyard first and hearing that he hadn't been there for a few days, she heads to his apartment, knocking several times to no answer.
pulling out a hair pin to begin fidgeting at his lock, she mutters to herself first about how crazy it is to do this outside of the apocalypse, but she also affirms that she could apologize later for the crazy of it. because right now, making sure he wasn't dead was the priority.
to her relief, he isn't dead; to her horror, it could be something worse.
she knows the vein-covered skin-like material that coats his body, knows it because she'd found remnants of the same thing when she'd woken back up in deerington after three years gone. whatever the hell it is, she knows what it means, and while she can see him lying right there, he isn't there at all — he's back in his world.
however long that's meant for, she assumes that since his body is there, he will come back, though the timeline of it is a mystery itself, since she'd been gone two weeks from this world before she'd settled back in. for now, the least she can do is make sure he's safe, make sure nothing happens to his body in the meanwhile. trying not to think of the circumstances, of what it means for him to be gone now, or what anything will mean when he does come back, she focuses on the now as she always does, feeding audrey some water and keeping him safe.
eventually, though, when she makes her rounds again back to his apartment, he isn't there, evidence of that vein material on the floor hinting of his wake. swearing under her breath, she races out, hoping he hasn't gone too far, that he isn't so completely out of his realm to wake up to all of this alone.
what she finds, though, is a sight all too familiar, something she'd hoped they'd put behind them, crazed eyes and a gun tight in his grip, ready to shoot if someone makes the wrong move. ]
Am— [ before she can get the word out, he's already swinging, gun smacking hard against her shoulder, drawing out a pained grunt before she sees it held unsteady, ready to shoot in her direction. ] Amos, stop! It's me!
text; sometime after the event cause I do what I want
Hey, so now that we aren't actively trying to drive through a sandstorm, I was thinking of walking around town, getting a sense of what's available in terms of food.
What do you think?
text;
apparently, it's still kind of gross out there.
weirdo nuns and stuff roaming around.
need me to bring the bat?
text;
Plus some guy taught me how to use a knife, so I have one of those now just in case, but I don’t think more weapons would necessarily be a bad idea?
text;
text;
text;
text;
text;
text;
text | un: kparker
it'll be way quicker now that i don't have to pretend i'm nonmagical
should we go wistful beige or baby blue for the walls?
[ pic sent: a display of paint sample cards. ]
text
that's right, cobra kai.
i'm still mad at you. 😤😤😤
[ and then, like a second later. ]
the baby blue's kind of cute.
no subject
where i'm from, we kinda frown on letting humans know we can use magic
it's a big no no 🙅♂️🙅♂️
i promise the next time we get stuck in a sandstorm, we won't break a sweat
[ a beat later: ] baby blue it is
do we want the entire house this color or should we switch it up with some of the rooms?
maybe we can pair it off with a grey and white
we're gonna have to put in new floorboards
replace the windows
and the doors
then there's the attic
and plumbing
and air ventilation
[...]
what if we just tear the whole place down and rebuild it from scratch?
it might save us a lot of time [ he's joking. kinda. ]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
text;
I'm having trouble with showers. As in I can't seem to make myself get in one. Physically.
[ it probably has something to do with those wings on her back, but she's not going to lead with that. ]
Anyway, what I'm saying is that if you're not super busy I could use some help with my hair. I can probably manage everything else myself, but there's parts that can't get wet
[ this is not coming out right. ]
What I mean is that parts of me have to stay dry. Like, really dry.
[ yeah, this definitely sounds weird. ]
text;
the request she gets though is ... something. ]
So you just need help washing your hair?
I mean I've heard a lot weirder than that.
text;
Not because they suddenly have wings growing out of their back.
[ well, turns out she’s just going to lead with it anyway. ]
text;
text;
text;
text;
text;
text;
text;
text;
text;
text;
text;
text;
text;
text;
text;
text | backdated to when aliens were still new and hip
It is, in fact, one of these.]
Look at this weird thing I found.
no subject
oh.
good thing she's got the fluid strapped to her wrist, otherwise it'd be knocking down straight to the floor right now. ]
holy shit??
wait wait wait
is that an actual xenomorph??
1/3
I don't know.
[--what that is. A sadly standard response for him around Addy. Or really, anyone who had a semi-normal Pre-Z life.]
2/2
3/3 I COULD KEEP GOING BUT I WON'T
1/2 ALWAYS KEEP GOING
2/2
(no subject)
(no subject)
video | un: kparker
[ have a view of the now squeaky clean, stench free living room, addy. ]
I burned all of them outside. It was super fun. Wish you could have been here for it, but I know you're busy doing Addy things. [ camera pans to the outside where there is still a nice fire going. ]
Oh. Wait. Should I have saved some for Dana? [ a pause. ] Nah, I'll stock up on fresh meat from the grocery store.
no subject
[ which is ultimately what she's been doing. she's even a little blood-coated now, likely the result of dodging another blood wave. ]
Look, whatever it is that Dana's gonna ... eat, it should at least be a little higher standard than rotting wall organs.
no subject
[ he looks much better off than her. magic is great for keeping things hands free, especially when it comes to digging human organs out of the walls and floors. finally turning the screen on himself, he looks a little put out. ]
I know. I realized it was a dumb line of thought the moment I said it.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
no subject
no subject
i'm not advertising anything so that sure wasn't me
second do you always go calling up bathroom numbers?
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
➤ action ( sparring...kind of )
amos has to admit that she's given him more of a challenge than he'd expected when they'd decided to do this. she's smaller, of course, but scrappy, resilient and fast. he has the size and the reach but he lacks in quickness and agility.
and he pays for that. as promised, she doesn't go easy on him and he respects her too much to go easy on her. so, he's made sure she's hit the floor just as many times as she's shoved him into a wall or gotten him off his feet.
it's actually an enjoyable experience. it's good to get some aggression out but not have it backed and motivated by pure anger.
they're both still on their feet when she comes at him and he manages to catch her against him, stopping her momentum, twisting a hip and tossing her over and onto the ground before following her down and pinning her wrists to the floor. )
I win.
( unless she can somehow figure out how to get up and out of his grip, he's going to call this one a victory for space and a loss for the zombie apocalypse. )
no subject
even if he's bound for a win, she doesn't allow him to maintain it easily, putting all her weight into every swing and kick, every thrust of her body, making sure he knows full well that size isn't everything, and strategy and speed have their advantages even between drastically different opponents.
but her fall to the floor is hard, and she can't mask the helpless grunt when she's on her back; it's a good thing she'd worn leggings, otherwise her pants might have ripped with the force of it.
she squirms against his hold, but even if she could manage some swift escapes on her feet, her vulnerable position now keeps her from getting out from beneath the strength of his hands. it doesn't help that the ongoing fight has tired her out for as long as they've kept it going, her chest rising and falling with quickened breaths, sweat clinging stray strands of her bundled hair to the skin of her cheeks. in any case, it's hard to want to move with the sight above her, the naked skin of his chest painted in sweat of his own, biceps firmer still from how his arms stretch out to hold her down. ]
Are you sure? [ she asks despite the stretch of a grin that follows, her body shaking from a quiet defeated laugh. ] You're lucky as hell I didn't have my bat.
[ if this were a real fight and she were armed, she doubts she'd be the one on the floor. ]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
i appreciate you making floofy hair and longer beard canon for me lmfao (no really, i do!)
LMAO you said it was growing!!
i absolutely did i just appreciate the support LMFAO
i mean who wouldn't want to confirm that FACE as offensive as it is
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
( text | un: burton | misfire )
( he's very eloquent even via the written word. )
no subject
you know you're not obligated to share what you do in your free time, right?
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
( action » canon update i am so sorry )
he's not in the ruins anymore, he can tell. there's now other sounds, no other people around him, unable to see, unable to do anything. he can't hear holden off in the distance, trying to be a goddamn hero.
it's silence, quiet, clean. he swallows. there's still a gun in his lap and his hands are still wrapped around it, tightly, like it's the only thing keeping him afloat.
and maybe that's true. maybe it's the only thing he can rely on.
he doesn't know how he makes it out onto the street but he does. he doesn't know what he looks like, how he's come back, only that there's a gun in his hand and blackness in front of his eyes.
out here, he can hear sounds. people. they move past him, around him, in front of him and amos grips the gun harder and harder, unable to control the rising anxiety and anger that seems to bubble up.
it overflows when someone bumps his shoulder. it snaps like a taut piano string and amos lashes out, swinging the rifle towards his person and then holding the gun down in the area of the sound of pain. he doesn't say anything, just keeps the gun trained on where he thinks this person is, eyes unseeing and unfocused. )
slaps your sorrys right back
pulling out a hair pin to begin fidgeting at his lock, she mutters to herself first about how crazy it is to do this outside of the apocalypse, but she also affirms that she could apologize later for the crazy of it. because right now, making sure he wasn't dead was the priority.
to her relief, he isn't dead; to her horror, it could be something worse.
she knows the vein-covered skin-like material that coats his body, knows it because she'd found remnants of the same thing when she'd woken back up in deerington after three years gone. whatever the hell it is, she knows what it means, and while she can see him lying right there, he isn't there at all — he's back in his world.
however long that's meant for, she assumes that since his body is there, he will come back, though the timeline of it is a mystery itself, since she'd been gone two weeks from this world before she'd settled back in. for now, the least she can do is make sure he's safe, make sure nothing happens to his body in the meanwhile. trying not to think of the circumstances, of what it means for him to be gone now, or what anything will mean when he does come back, she focuses on the now as she always does, feeding audrey some water and keeping him safe.
eventually, though, when she makes her rounds again back to his apartment, he isn't there, evidence of that vein material on the floor hinting of his wake. swearing under her breath, she races out, hoping he hasn't gone too far, that he isn't so completely out of his realm to wake up to all of this alone.
what she finds, though, is a sight all too familiar, something she'd hoped they'd put behind them, crazed eyes and a gun tight in his grip, ready to shoot if someone makes the wrong move. ]
Am— [ before she can get the word out, he's already swinging, gun smacking hard against her shoulder, drawing out a pained grunt before she sees it held unsteady, ready to shoot in her direction. ] Amos, stop! It's me!
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)