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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. |
Who enjoys pain?
[One of the basic rules embedded in Lou's head: hurting is bad.]
[One of the basic rules embedded in Lou's head: hurting is bad.]
Blaming the victim. [This boy's arms are crossed, his expression is entirely unimpressed.] Typical.
[A light shrug.]
You might as well.
You might as well.
Now, why would anyone say that?
[That just means you're not doing your job right, sweetie.]
[That just means you're not doing your job right, sweetie.]
Pain is hardly interesting.
It can be a conversation starter, though.
Then again, so can almost anything.
Then again, so can almost anything.
Edgy. Reaaaaaaaaal edgy, man.
[TEACH ME HOW TO BE MANLY LIKE YOU]
Well, good.
Well, good.
[ She treats it as a challenge, like a pop quiz that's just been given and that she means to do well on. Blanchard quizzes her about things all the time, so it isn't as though this was a new thing, after all. ]
Not like the alternative's any better.
Not like the alternative's any better.
Oh, they'll be talked about too. And forgotten, equally soon.
You know this.
You know this.
[ He watches her patiently, and waits for her words to fall like dappled rain trying to find its way to the forest floor through the canopy of her too-brightly illuminated mind. Primrose reaches up and touches her forehead, almost as if she has a fever (she doesn't). ]
Quiet today, little sister.
Quiet today, little sister.
Sounds more like a didn't even sleep pondering, actually. You ever done it, sweetie?
[ The it in this equation can be any number of things, Priscilla means stayed silent, but she knows it's up to interpretation. (To be fair, a lot of things are up to that when it comes to what comes out of her mouth, but that's neither here nor there.) ]
[ The it in this equation can be any number of things, Priscilla means stayed silent, but she knows it's up to interpretation. (To be fair, a lot of things are up to that when it comes to what comes out of her mouth, but that's neither here nor there.) ]
My thoughts exactly. Can't play the game, get out of the fucking ring. Or at least make some noise so the rest of us can have fun.
Man, if someone said that about me I'd punch them in the face.
[but scampi you'd be dead--
you know what never mind]
[but scampi you'd be dead--
you know what never mind]
[He scratches his chin, lips pursed with a cigarette between his fingers. Probably a habit his mother and her cabal sisters frown upon, smoking, but that's why he isn't around any of them right now.
And this is. An awkward topic. So he's just going to stare at it for another beat before moving on.]
And this is. An awkward topic. So he's just going to stare at it for another beat before moving on.]
[ Moving on — that'd be a novel idea, wouldn't it? Kathleen had tried to move on and, in the end, quite literally did. But perhaps she's still stuck in the most important way of all: living with a familiar whose face reminds her of Phoenix, randomly sending him text messages when she knows she should cut the cord clean and not linger.
His phone buzzes in his pocket. He's just received a picture. Mostly desert, flat and uninteresting with shrubbery and the occasional cactus in the background. In the foreground is a row of broken bear and wine bottles, all of them but one splintered and shattered. Her aim's not bad. ]
His phone buzzes in his pocket. He's just received a picture. Mostly desert, flat and uninteresting with shrubbery and the occasional cactus in the background. In the foreground is a row of broken bear and wine bottles, all of them but one splintered and shattered. Her aim's not bad. ]
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