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Re: The Good Times Are Killing Me

Posted: Sat Feb 23, 2019 11:23 pm
by Jilly
It sounded like the girl found a ladder or something. Great. No, seriously, it was great. At least Kayla wouldn't be stuck up here for longer.

Tyrell tried to calm Erika down. Erika was up to something as she started moving. "H-hey, what're you..." Kayla said, watching before Erika started to take the leap. "Hey! What the fuck are you doing? Stop!"

Kayla reached out at the same time as Little White Dude, but it was nothing but air. Erika was gone. Little White Dude almost had the same fate, but he was able to climb back up before Kayla could help pull him up.

Her breathing was erratic, even after seeing that Erika was mostly safe on the ground now. God, Kayla was so tired.

The ladder arrived, and Little White Dude offered Kayla to go first. "Thanks." She nodded and gripped the sides of the ladder and made her way slowly down until her feet were firmly planted on the ground. She rubbed her forehead with both of her hands as she took a few steps away to give Dude room and to just process what happened in these last ten minutes.

Re: The Good Times Are Killing Me

Posted: Sat Feb 23, 2019 11:44 pm
by blastinus
It was fortunate that Mackenzie had been poking around in the toolshed when Erika had taken her misguided leap off the roof, otherwise she would have been freaking out. Instead, she had simply turned and saw her in Tyrell's arms before he set Erika down. Mackenzie gave a doofy smile at the sight. It looked so sweet and seemed to belie Tyrell's otherwise rough exterior.

As she followed him over to the patio when he grabbed the ladder, she wanted to say something about it, but Tyrell instructed her in a mocking imitation of her own voice to come hold the ladder steady. The guy really did have a sense of humor. Smiling, she gave a determined nod and grabbed hold, watching as the two remaining discussed who'd come down before Jackson graciously offered for Kayla to go first.

This was a night for gentlemanly behavior, it seemed, which she heartily approved of.

"Careful, guys!" she remarked as they began their descent. She watched carefully as the two of them descended, being sure to keep a steady grip. The ladder didn't sway that much though, to her great relief, but she still let out a deep breath once everyone had gotten safely on solid ground. If they'd fallen and gotten themselves hurt somehow, she would have really been upset for them.

Both of them looked stressed. Jackson in particular was asking for a drink. Understandable, given what they'd just gone through. Mackenzie thought back and she did recall seeing some bottles laid out in the main dining room.

"There should be something just inside," she said to Jackson. "Goodness, though! What were you folks doing up there? That was really dangerous."

In her eyes, one person getting stuck on a roof was a mere coincidence, nothing to be worried about at all. But three people all somehow finding their way out there? That was a potential safety risk, one that would have to be plugged as soon as possible before someone got hurt.

Re: The Good Times Are Killing Me

Posted: Sun Feb 24, 2019 3:21 pm
by Shiola
Okay, this is a better spot.

"That was fun!" Erika chortled from her curled up position next to the wall. Kenzie didn't seem to be speaking to her, but she felt the need to offer her racing thoughts, anyhow. On top of the roof, everything was dark and grainy. Down here, with some lights from the house, things felt soft and friendly. It had a nicer colour scheme, and better vibes. Warm-coloured lights made everything seem comfortable, like the feeling of a squishy armchair at the end of a long day, or the sound of wind blowing through leaves. That moment when a pizza finally arrived, but you'd forgotten it was going to show up so it was this kind of pleasant surprise.

"This is much better spot than the rööf. Hey, do you think there's pizza?"

She seemed momentarily lucid as she spoke to no one in particular, and found herself distracted by the strange way sensory inputs seemed to blend together. Now more comfortable, she sat up cross-legged and let her eyes pass over the backyard, curious what different auras her peers might be giving off. Fumbling through her pockets, she managed to find the half-finished joint that she'd been smoking earlier. She felt a need for a sweet smelling sandpaper to smooth out the trip's rough edges.

---

It didn't seem to take long before the change in scenery had radically altered her mood, and Erika now seemed more preoccupied with the pretty colours dancing across her vision than anything else. A feeling that seemed to hook onto the inside of his chest began to let go, as she seemed more and more at ease.

Thank fuck. Neither of us needs you on a bad trip tonight.

As he stood up, he heard Jackson ask if anyone had a drink.

The hook dug in once more. Looking to Jackson, he saw that the boy had clearly already been drinking. He had that distant look in his eyes that seemed unable to focus on any one thing in particular. Sitting on the grass, it appeared to be the case that he could barely hold himself up straight.

You can barely sit up, how the fuck do you expect to hold your liquor?

"Sure man, I'll getcha one." As Ty walked towards the cooler he had seen on the way out to the backyard, he noticed his own vision trailing a bit. Kenzie had pushed him to down that entire drink by virtue of how annoying she was; he'd held to the naive notion it was going to "take the edge off." Instead, the feeling of disgust that washed over him was just an irritating reminder of why he'd found himself more taken with substances other than booze in the last year. Having not eaten much today, it was no doubt it was affecting him more than it might have usually.

Did this all on my own. Can't excuse it on her account. My impulse, no one else's.

Looking into the cooler, he saw a couple dozen tallboys sitting in half-melted ice. It was the same kind of watery, cheap crap that his father used to drink. He always used to find the crushed cans littering the garage, or occasionally just strewn about the house. Dad had always found his own excuses for being the mess that he was, and it was almost always someone else; more often than not, Ty. He ran his hand on the scar across his face, almost checking to see if it was still there.

I can't fault the stuff too much. It put the old bastard where his is now, at least. In his place.

After a minute he walked back to Jackson with a Cold One™, kneeling down and handing it to him. His expression was jovial, as if he was trying to bring the mood back up after the excitement on the roof. What he really wanted, of course, was to find out if Jackson was as comfortable shouting him down as he was shouting at Erika.

"Here 'ya go, bud. Oh, and-" Ty leaned in next to his ear, and whispered.

"-you ever speak to her like that again, I'll bury you."

He stood up, wearing a gentle smile. "Just take it slow, you look like you've had a few already." Ty reached for the joint that Erika had lit, before leaning on the wall next to her and taking a short drag. It felt good, and gave him the chance to make sure she wasn't overdoing it either.

Re: The Good Times Are Killing Me

Posted: Tue Feb 26, 2019 12:27 am
by Tonyksin
Jackson’s mind was still reeling from the events of the last few minutes. His heart was beating so loud and fast he was sure it was going to burst. Was he having a panic attack? Fuck he really hoped not. He tried to just focus on his breathing, deep breath in, deep breath out. His eyes shot back and forth around the backyard, trying to find something he could focus on. The other girl from the roof seemed to be having about as much trouble as he was calming down after what had just happened. At least he wasn’t the only one, FUCK. Erika seemed to be having the time of her life again, which was just fucking fantastic. Sure, jump off the fucking roof and give me a heart attack, then just go back to being super fucking high and relaxed, that just great, Erika. He tore his eyes from her and tried to focus on something else, before his temper flared at her nonchalant attitude about this ordeal.

Mackenzie was first to answer him about a drink, saying there was something just inside. Great. Now all he had to do was will his body to make it that far. Thanks for the help Kenzie. Or fucking not. What were they doing up there? Question of the FUCKING century. Jackson wasn’t sure he had the faculties to put the experience he just had chasing a girl on drugs across a rooftop into words at this exact moment, so he just stared at Mackenzie incredulously instead. Jackson’s eyes snapped away from the girl as Ty offered to grab him a beer. That was the best news he’d heard in the last fifteen or so minutes. Jackson rubbed his hands over his face to try and process what had just happened a bit. At least they were all on solid ground now, that was what mattered. Ty reappeared after a bit with a Beer in hand, kneeling next to Jackson to hand it over. Jackson looked up at the taller dude with thankful eyes. Maybe even a bit desperate.

“Thanks, du-” as he took the beer his thanks was cut short by Ty whispering some fucking bullshit-ass threat into his ear.

Jackson’s eyes widened as he stared at the other boy, watching as he rose from beside him and walked back over to Erika. That fucking smirk on his face pissed Jackson the fuck off. Was this dude fucking serious? Who the fuck was he?! Jackson risked his own well-being to try and stop that dumb bitch from hurting herself, and this was the thanks he got? This had to be some sort of cosmic fucking joke. Where the fuck did Ty get off talking to him like that? What exactly had Jackson done wrong? All he did was try and prevent a bad situation. What was he supposed to do when a girl jumps out a second story widow talking about going to the FUCKING moon? Goddammit, this was ridiculous.

Jackson felt himself start to laugh in spite of himself. It started at a light chuckle, and grew into a loud sarcastic boom. He cracked the beer open, and chugged about half the can, his eyes locked on Tyrell. Shakily, Jackson stood himself up, pounding back the rest of the tallboy in the process. He tossed the empty can to the side and spit in Tyrell’s direction.

“Wow dude, wow… Unbe-fucking-lievable.” He chuckled some more.

“Why don’t you, AND your crazy ass girlfriend, fuck all the way off.” He spit in their direction again.

“Don’t fucking threaten me, bitch.” He stood his ground. He was pissed now, and all he could see was red.

Re: The Good Times Are Killing Me

Posted: Tue Feb 26, 2019 3:43 am
by Jilly
Okay, breathe, Kayla. Just breathe. Breathe.

Mackenzie asked about why they were on the roof, which was just enough for Kayla's heart to start racing again. Luckily Erika interrupted with another tangent about pizza or some shit, and the other roof dude looked like he was trying to calm down too so Kayla just kept her mouth superglued together. It wasn't like any of these people knew she was the one in the bathroom and was probably ultimately responsible for this, and they also had no reason to know so she'd just keep that little factoid to herself.

Kayla watched Erika continuing to trip balls, taking a hit off of a blunt she pulled out of nowhere to trip even more balls. She was probably playing it right, being high all the time so you at least had an excuse for causing problems, or something like that. Kayla wasn't much of a philosopher for a reason.

Tyrell came back with a beer for Little White Dude and whispered something to him that totally set him off like a nuclear warhead. Kayla just stole a glance at Mackenzie, and then she scooched ever so closer to the door back into the house because Fuck. This. Shit.

Re: The Good Times Are Killing Me

Posted: Wed Feb 27, 2019 4:19 am
by blastinus
Mackenzie didn't know what she'd said, but from the glances she'd gotten, it was clear that she'd said something wrong. Only trouble was, she didn't know why. She'd helped them down, she'd tried to help Jackson with his problem. It was always like this. No matter what her intentions were, everyone treated her like a stupid freak.

"Maybe I should just-" she started, but she wasn't able to finish that thought before Jackson just exploded at Tyrell and Erika, spitting insults at them. She hadn't seen Tyrell whisper in Jackson's ear, so from where she was standing, it just came out of nowhere. All she could do was step back in shock, catching Kayla's glance and coming to about the same conclusion:

Someone was going to get beaten up here, and it probably wasn't Tyrell.

What Mackenzie was planning was stupid. Even she knew not to antagonize someone drunk off their gourd, but what choice did she have? The whole "someone calling police, police asking questions, yada yada" thing was running through her mind again. So as much as it was tempting to take Kayla's lead and skedaddle, she at least had to do something.

"Jackson, please," she said, "we're just here to have a good time. Can't we just go back inside? Please?"

It was a weak plea, but now was not the time to go on the offensive. She didn't want to make things even worse than they already were.

Re: The Good Times Are Killing Me

Posted: Wed Feb 27, 2019 8:18 pm
by Shiola
Erika recoiled as Jackson spat and shouted at the two of them. What had happened? Didn't Ty just get him a bee-

“Don’t fucking threaten me, bitch.”

"Or what, Jackson?" Ty spoke in a venomous monotone, clearly trying to goad Jackson further.

Of course. Ty had probably said something to rile him up, because Jackson was the reason that everything got so grainy and terrible up on the roof. So Ty felt he needed to strike back. It only seemed natural to jump off once Jackson had started yelling. He'd calmed down once they got to ground level, and so did Erika. Did Ty really have to push his buttons?

Course he did. That's what he does.

Erika stood up straight, having slumped back into the wall at Jackson's outburst. She grabbed a hold of Ty's arm, partly to steady herself and partly to remind him that she was here. That there was no need for any kind of confrontation. That they could just go inside, and there would be pizza. Mackenzie seemed to have the same idea, though Erika wasn't sure her plea was going to do any good. Ty had a hard time backing down from these things, especially when he felt he had a point to prove. If she could get him to cool down, he'd probably later see why engaging with Jackson wasn't going to do any good. This was the kind of thing he had to get used to doing; it was how people lived out in the world. She knew he could, eventually.

"Ty-" she pawed at his arm, her coordination still largely impaired "-leave him. He's just a drunk kid. It's like - not fair? He's gonna regret his morning anyways. Like, he didn't..." Erika felt a shiver of anxiety. Jackson was still staring at them. The air felt tense again, and the world started to look like a photo with the "contrast" slider turned all the way up. Maybe Ty might leave him alone, but would Jackson?


---




It was one thing to almost deliberately make a bad situation worse by acting the way he did, but not taking the hint and fucking off with his drink like he was supposed to? What was he expecting would happen? Sure, Jackson was on the wrestling team, and that might've been a worry of Ty's - if he wasn't completely hammered, a good foot shorter than he was, and at least eighty pounds lighter.

Ty handed the joint back to Erika, and folded his arms, one of them resting a little higher than the other. It was a deliberate move, to keep his arms up in case Jackson tried anything. It looked natural enough there was no reason to believe he was making any sort of move, which is exactly what Ty wanted. If Jackson made the first move, Ty just looked like he was defending himself. Provoked him maybe, but there was no way any observer would look at this shitfaced, angry little man and assume anything other than he'd had a few too many and decided to start shit. You'd have to be drunk, stupid, or Wyatt to take a swing at Ty and not expect to get laid the fuck out.

He felt a tugging at his shirt and looked to Erika. Her wide eyes were focused intently on his own.

"Ty. Let's go in. I need like, food. 'Cause like, drugs. Empty stomach. If I don't get pizza I might start seeing elves or some shit. C'mon. Help me find the pizza elves."

It was really cute, even if he wished she didn't seem to need this so much. She pawed at his arm like she was thinking of climbing up it. Erika liked to make the point about reality being better when it was a bit more open to interpretation. It was still an obvious coping mechanism for dealing with social situations. Seemed like a good one at least, insofar as she seemed to be having a good time.

I hate people like you. You're gonna get shitfaced and take it out on everyone? Try and play the hero, when you were just making the situation worse?

It would be nice to be able to just switch gears. Let things slide. Let karma sort someone else out, instead of having to do it himself.

Come on Jackson, what the fuck is wrong with you? My life has been shit so far, you don't see me making an ass of myself.

Not yet. Erika was right. Ty knew he fought to work out his anger, to put people in their place. To prove he was better than they were. What point could he possibly prove here? No one was under any illusion Ty had more of a handle on himself than Jackson. They only had to look at the kid.

You think you're just going to get away with this, you ginger midget fuck?

Jackson wasn't going to get away with this, because he was going to wake up with a hangover and then have to continue living the life of Jack Sullivan. Ty got to walk away with Erika, help her find her pizza elves, and enjoy the rest of the party. That could be a victory in itself - having a better time than this little shit. It wasn't like he had to mark not following up on his threat as a failure.

I promised her I wouldn't. That's a point to prove.

If one had been listening closely, they might've heard the audible crack of Ty's right knuckle as he clenched his fist. Instead of a punch, he only had a pitying smile to offer Jackson.

"You're right. Kenzie's right. We're here to have a good time, right Jack? Let's just go inside."

There was a small beat, after which Ty felt the words leaving his mouth before he could do anything to stop it. He couldn't resist.

"I really shouldn't be punching down, anyways."

Re: The Good Times Are Killing Me

Posted: Wed Mar 06, 2019 12:49 am
by Tonyksin
Jackson’s vision was becoming redder by the second. Or what? Did this bastard really just call him out as if he wasn’t gonna bust his smug looking face in? Jackson’s fists clenched even tighter as continued to stare down the asshole standing before him. Only a real fucking punk thought he was a big fucking man threatening someone smaller than him. Unlucky for Tyrell that Jackson had no issues with taking on someone physically bigger than himself. Just give him the slightest of reasons, and Jackson planned on going absolutely postal on his ass. Jackson’s eyes flicked from Tyrell to Erika as she pawed at the large boy’s arm in an attempt to try and talk him down. Oh, am I just a drunk kid, Erika? Yeah, you’re right, just a drunk kid who foolishly tried his best to keep you from potentially killing yourself on that roof. But it seems that didn’t count for a goddamned thing. Jackson shook his head in vein at the situation. Even as intoxicated as he still was, he was completely floored by the absolute disrespect these two were giving him after all he did to just try and be a good person. Fucking ridiculous.

A small voice behind him took him out of his rage for a second. He turned to look at Mackenzie, pleading with him to come inside with her and calm down. His face fell and he looked around at the obvious scene that had been caused. The other girl who’d been on the roof was as close to the door as she could be, looking absolutely terrified at what could happen. Kensie looked terrified too, and her plea made all the guilty feelings come rushing back to the forefront of his mind.

Look at what you did, you piece of shit.

These girls are all horrified by you, you absolute monster.

Why can’t you ever know your place?

You just never learn.

Asshole.

Loser.

Weakling.

Garbage.

Everything you touch turns into trash. You should just disappear.

Jackson’s breath caught in his throat, and he felt as if the whole backyard was spinning around him. He couldn’t focus, his mind was racing at a million miles a minute, and all he could do was stand there and attempt to breathe. His heart was pounding so loudly he was sure everyone around him could hear it. His eyes were darting from one person to another, watching them all look at him.

Don't look… please stop staring at me… please, please, please…

His breaths were coming out in quick bursts, and he felt like he wasn’t getting enough oxygen. His vision was getting hazy, like everything had gotten suddenly foggy. Why wouldn’t they stop looking at him?! He hadn’t done anything wrong! All he was trying to do was be a good person and make sure she was safe, was that so wrong? His left hand gripped the front of his shirt as he felt himself continue to hyperventilate. He just stared at Kensie, his back turned away from Tyrell and Erika, his eyes wide with panic and fear. He couldn't breathe. Why couldn’t he breathe?!

"I really shouldn't be punching down, anyways."


The tears broke free from his eyes as he just stood there, letting the words punch through his chest like a hammer. He just stared at the girl in front of him, the tears rolling down his face as his breaths started to slow.

“Fucking… shit.” He muttered under his breath.

He needed to escape. He had to get the fuck out of there before anyone else saw how pathetic he was. He stumbled forward a bit, barely catching himself before he toppled over onto the ground. His head shot up and he tried in vein to make his way to the door. His legs wouldn't do what he wanted them to. After another try he just collapsed into the side of the house, the tears still staining his now crimson cheeks. This was so humiliating. What did he do to deserve this? Using the wall as a brace, he picked himself up slowly and made it to the door, glancing back to the crowd of people for just a second, and hoping he’d never have to see any of them again tonight.

“Fuck this!” He shouted before he opened the door to the house and stumbled back inside, and hopefully away from all these prying eyes.


[Jackson Sullivan Continued Elsewhere]

Re: The Good Times Are Killing Me

Posted: Wed Mar 06, 2019 1:16 am
by Jilly
Ok, it was time to shuffle a little faster. Everything was going to shit around her; the quicker she made it to the door, the sooner she could fade back into the crowded basement or find Charelle again or whatever.

She almost made it until Jackson freaked out and made a break for the door, cutting Kayla off and causing her to flinch as he mouthed off some more and fled.

"Way to go, Ty," Kayla whispered to herself low enough to be drowned out by the reverberating beat from the basement. She would've said it louder, but she didn't have a death sentence and Erika probably had that angle covered anyway.

Kayla just steeled herself and gave one last pass with her eyes at Mackenzie, Erika, and Ty, and she followed Jackson back inside and disappeared.

((Kayla Harris to be continued))

Re: The Good Times Are Killing Me

Posted: Wed Mar 06, 2019 2:18 am
by blastinus
Mackenzie just stood there, aghast and dumbfounded. Everything seemed like it was calming down, like it was getting back to normal. She thought she'd actually gotten through to them, that they were all just going to walk back in, have a few drinks, share a few laughs...But then...Then...

At first, when the taunt had flown into the air, she'd stepped backwards instinctively, expecting to be caught in the middle of something horrible. But instead, Jackson just ran for the back door, staggering away like a man who'd been punched in the gut. She could see the tears. She was so close, how could she not? She'd wanted to say something, she'd even reached out to stop him, but all the words simply echoed uselessly in her mind while she stammered and sputtered. Her arm limply fell as she watched Jackson disappear, her hands balling up into tiny fists.

She'd failed, just like always. It was always the same.

She rounded on Tyrell, sticking a finger up at his face, wanting for all the world to chew him out, to rip him to pieces for what he'd said. But all she managed was an exasperated cry of, "What's...what's wrong with you?!" Everything that had just happened was crashing in on her, making it hard to form coherent sentences, let alone a lengthy diatribe. She thought that Tyrell was a gentleman, a kind man who was willing to actually give her the time of day and who would put himself out for someone he liked. But evidently, even a man like that could be just as rude and petty as everyone else.

With a sharp huff, She stamped her foot down and stormed over to the back door, slamming it open as she followed behind Kayla. Far from providing a breath of fresh air, she was more wound-up than when she'd stepped outside. It wasn't supposed to be like this. What was she doing wrong?

(Mackenzie Baker continued elsewhere)

Re: The Good Times Are Killing Me

Posted: Fri Mar 08, 2019 3:59 am
by Shiola
Tyrell watched the events unfold in front of him, somewhat dumbfounded by Jackson’s reaction. He’d expected the guy to curse him out some more, maybe throw an ill-fated swing at him. What he hadn’t imagined was that he’d implode and run off like a coward.

How thin skinned could a person be?

He gave Kayla a sideways glance as she walked off without much to say on the matter, turning to face Kenzie sticking a finger in his face.

The fuck did I do?

What was wrong with him? What was wrong with everyone here? Did no one else see the problem with what Jackson had been doing? Why did they care that he had a hissy fit after realizing he picked a fight he couldn’t win?

As Kenzie walked off, he turned to Erika. Expecting support, or at least a look of confusion. Instead, she seemed terse. As if she got what the rest of them did, and he didn’t. Wordlessly, she grabbed Ty by the wrist and led him over to an isolated corner of the backyard. A porch light next to the house bathed the end of the backyard in an off-white glow, and Erika seemed to find a focus she hadn’t quite been able to before.

Erika was staring him down, seemingly having difficulty trying to say what she wanted to say. She took a deep breath and ran her fingers through her hair, grabbing a small handful at the back of her head before letting go. He knew it to be a gesture of frustration, or anxiety. After an uncomfortable moment, he decided to open the conversation himself.

“What is it?”

“Why did you have to do that?”

“Do what?”

She sighed, as if the answer was obvious. It wasn’t obvious to him. Couldn’t she tell?

“Poke- no, provoke him like that. You didn’t have to do that.”

Oh, so I’m the bad guy here?

“Well, he didn’t have to shout at anyone, but he did and you jumped off the roof.”

“So?”

“So he can’t just get away with shit like that.” It was hard to keep an even tone, though he knew how important it was right now. He wanted to be in the right, he felt he understood the situation, but he came off as in the wrong even to her. Why?

----



“He was making a bad situation worse! I had to say something. Put him in his place, wherever the hell that is.”

It felt like a herculean effort to even stay focused. She knew she had to, though. For him, and for everyone. If she didn’t catch this stupid shit in the bud, he’d end up believing it even more.

I’m not sure I could do this sober.

She took another deep breath. Slowing her breathing helped bring the world back into focus. If she was hostile he would just get defensive. It was important to remember he probably had no idea what the hell he’d just done. It was a habit for him, because he wasn’t like this when they were alone, or he was in a place he felt safe. So, he just had to figure out that he didn’t have to do this. That was easy, right?

“Did you… fuck, I’m still tripping.” The sentence seemed to fall apart as she was speaking it. Another beat, a pause for composure.

What was I going to say?

Suddenly, she felt lucidity once more. “Did you really have to, though? What did you even say to him? What did that solve? We were already okay, you didn’t have to do anything more.”

Ty softened his tone. “I just wanted him to not shout at people. At you.”

Oh sweet Jesus, I’m fine, you idiot. Sort of. Relatively.

“But Ty, I’m okay. I’m so fucking blazed right now I would’ve forgotten it if this didn’t happen. Jackson though? You just straight-up ruined his night, dude.”
It became clear to her that statement did not go over well for Ty, as he seemed to instinctively pull away. She touched his arm, silently imploring him to close the distance between them again. Ty’s eyes glanced to different parts of the backyard, now avoiding her gaze.

“I did? Shit, I didn’t – the way he was looking at us, I figured he could take it. I thought-”

Erika interrupted him, holding his hand. Ty kept looking over his shoulder, clearly worried someone was watching, though by this point the rest of the people in the backyard had long since diverted their attention from the scene on the roof.

“You saw what he – alright, look… like, you were mad at him for yelling at me and shit right? Like it scared me, not gonna lie. Rando drunk guy shouting on top of a roof. High as balls. Feels pretty bad. Like I’m okay here because it’s – fuckin’ yellow light.” She waved her hands around the area, drawing pleasant shadows on the grass. It felt pleasant. “Up there it got all blue. Dark and grainy, like a horror movie. Ya feel me?”

“I do.”

“Ok so, he was…” Erika clasped both of her hands together, to stop from gesticulating too wildly. “…he didn’t know that I don’t do well with people shouting at me, even when I’m not like this. Should’ve known, right?”

Ty nodded. “He should have.”

She pointed her clasped hands at Ty, as if to physically thrust her argument in front of him. “Yeah, but like – you didn’t know what was going on with him, and you hurt him because of that.”

A look of frustration fell across Ty’s face. “I couldn’t have known that he was going to just fucking implode. I did it anyways because… fuck, I don’t know. I don’t know why I have to do that shit. I…”

Ty let go of her hand, burying his face in his hands as he sighed in frustration. Through the long hair in front of his face, she could see him pushing his fingers to the bridge of his nose. Wiping away what looked like the start of tears. The brief silence subsided as he pushed the hair out of his eyes and stood up straight again. His gaze turned to the sky, then back towards the roof, and finally to Erika.

“I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry. I told you I wasn’t going to start shit here. I promised you I was going to and I couldn’t keep to that. It’s like she said – what’s wrong with me? Fuck, I promised you I wouldn't.”

“It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not. It’s not okay. That’s not something normal people do, is it?”

Again, Ty put his hands over his face, trying to keep some semblance of composure. It was hard to see him like this. His words fell to a quiet monotone, and Erika moved closer to hear. She pulled his hands from his face.

“I don’t wanna be like-”

“You’re not. Ty, you’re not. I know you’re better than this.”

“Do you? You barely know me.”

“I know enough, dude! You care now, that’s what matters isn’t it?”

She only noticed how tightly Tyrell was holding her hands when he released his grip. More than anything this all seemed to tire him. Looking to her eyes for guidance, or at least a reason to smile again, he seemed to relent.

“If you say so. I think you have a better handle on this shit than I do. Should I apologize, or what?”

Erika looked back towards the house, and chuckled. There was no way in hell Jackson was going to be amenable to a conversation right now. He might not even be amenable to being conscious at this point.

“Bad idea right now. He needs time to cool off. Let’s get pizza or something, I’m starving.”

Now it was Ty’s turn to laugh.

What’s wrong with pizza?

“Ah yes, the pizza elves.”

What?

“There are pizza elves?”

He couldn’t help himself, and continued laughing. “You… oh my God, you’re special. All that high wisdom, but you can’t remember going on about how you wanted to find the pizza elves?”

Holy fuck. What the hell am I even on?

“Wow. I legitimately don’t remember saying that. Though that sounds like something I would say.”

"We should definitely get you something to eat. Shall we?"

Erika grabbed his hand, and Ty led the way back into the house. She hoped that with any luck, they could avoid any more trouble before the night was over.

((Erika & Tyrell continued in Fear & Delight))

Re: The Good Times Are Killing Me

Posted: Tue Mar 12, 2019 4:40 pm
by RC~
It hadn't been easy for Benny to find what he seeked. It took him some time. He searched for Forrest and Mikki but couldn't find either. Then he went upstairs to search for an attic. Then he got approached and drank some vodka. Then he talked with other people and then he had an idea of where to go. When he opened the garage of the Quinn's he saw a shiny, metal ladder that could be extended. Perfect.

It had been awkward to walk around the house with this ladder in his hands, while other people could watch him. It must be pretty confusing, but Benny had no time to explain. They were probably waiting for him.

[[Benedict Murray continued from the garage]]

Benedict Murray was ready to-

Benedict looked up on the roof and around him and saw that everyone already had been gone. Letting out a sigh, he turned around and went back to the garage.

[[Benny continued elsewhere]]