OPEN | prompt three | PAIN

[wrens]

prompt three | P A I N dressing-room style. start your own thread. tag others. wash, rinse, repeat. open to all.

 

Comments

[amok]

Waa, waa. Sis-boom-bah.

[turbulence]

You know how much I fucking hate poetry.

[amok]

Hate it like its your fuckin' job, babycakes. Want a raise, want a riot? Race you, c'mon.

[turbulence]

Race me to what? [It's an irritated provocation. Few things don't get on Salem's nerves and Babycakes' little plays on words are no exception. Maybe that's why he's so good at passing pet peeves onto someone else over and over and over.] I don't race.

[amok]

It's a metaphor, baby bear, try to keep up. [ Babycakes knows the game he plays and perhaps doesn't play it with near as much finesse as he does, but she doesn't like being provoked. She likes provoking, plain and simple, and then standing back as shit burns. ] We gonna riot, cause I'm all outta polish and my nails are thinking red red red's the way to go tonight.

[turbulence]

[There's a long silence spent staring at her. He doesn't show much emotion in his eyes. Sometimes it really just looks like Salem is asking for it. Most likely he is.]

Have fun.