![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
OPEN | prompt three | PAIN
 |
prompt three | P A I N dressing-room style. start your own thread. tag others. wash, rinse, repeat. open to all. |
#that moment when you realize the character's name is actually INGRID not IMOGEN wtf self
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
inherent
- 2012-03-05 22:10 (UTC) - Expand[Oh, no. She doesn't want any pain around her, never ever ever.]
[ Yves has his way and she won't ever have to worry about that. A plume of smoke announces his presence long before he speaks. Eventually: ]
Ignore them.
Ignore them.
[There's a little chuckle, like it reminds him of a distant joke.]
It's funny when you say 'sugar'.
It's funny when you say 'sugar'.
[ Thank you, Clint, for yet again reminding Alyosha why he decided to cut you out in the first place. Still there's a measured sort of patience to the way he speaks. ]
Am I going to have to get you a paper bag to blow into or something?
Am I going to have to get you a paper bag to blow into or something?
You never know. [beat. Smile.] Maybe they did.
[ Mina has a way of smiling that makes people think she doesn't like them very much. Maybe she does, maybe she doesn't. ]
Did you?
Did you?
[ Awkward teenage boy is awkward. Or at least pretending to be. ]
Can we talk about something not creepy for once?
Can we talk about something not creepy for once?
Sounds good to me. [You stupid fuck.] What do you want to talk about?
[ A shrug. ]
Eh. Do the job right? Not a peep and mum's the word.
Eh. Do the job right? Not a peep and mum's the word.
[ Perhaps it's obvious by the way she looks at him for a brief moment that she's considering whether to speak at all. Her smile is beatific (practiced). ]
They do like to talk, don't they?
They do like to talk, don't they?
[ Her voice floats along effortlessly, as if she were exchanging words about the weather. ]
And then forget about you once the week is over, to move on to the next thing.
And then forget about you once the week is over, to move on to the next thing.
Seems like an awful simple way of putting things.
Some people do enjoy pain, you know. Each to their own.
[ Good-naturedly: ]
Better to give than to get.
Better to give than to get.
[ When Gibran speaks, it's with the kind of hurriedness and exaggerated happiness that suggests he doesn't quite know what he's talking about. ]
M-maybe. But that doesn't — doesn't mean it's all bad, does it? I, I, I mean, the pain, it's an ongoing sort of thing. You get used to it, don't you?
M-maybe. But that doesn't — doesn't mean it's all bad, does it? I, I, I mean, the pain, it's an ongoing sort of thing. You get used to it, don't you?
[ She smiles at him, rich and indulgent. The self-declared Queen of England enjoys many luxuries, though she has ensured none to be too extravagant or needless in their excess. Perhaps the closest she comes to it is Harry.
She slides a hand up, over the line of his shoulders. ]
It is time for a lesson in worsts, dear?
She slides a hand up, over the line of his shoulders. ]
It is time for a lesson in worsts, dear?
Page 1 of 4