Lcngdays - Tumblr Posts
@lcngdays - pete & remy; the long walk!
Pete's face was calm, that of someone older beyond him, and maybe that's what was scariest.
there was an apathy that only a 17-ish boy could have in his life, where even death is an afterthought to the act of memorial, like the funeral was the cake to him ; death, the disease hidden inside. A lack of existence, an absence, just oblivion. That's what this was, and that's what McVries was going after. Insane, fucking insane, maybe he always has been.
Pete bends down like a broken bulky lawn-chair after it'd been kicked in, tying his shoe all scuffed with mud and grass stains from the rain this morning as they talk. The school was busy as it flooded open like a cracked egg, chattering and loud, the metal fenced gate shuddering with the stampede as they went by, far enough to be comfortable; close enough to be masking. He was calm in the ways he shouldn't be, casual, you can't tell if its a joke or not. — in a way unique to Pete, you know it's not, but you pray it is. a poison that only gets worse, toxins congealing, growing, concentrating in the pouch of your inner cheek ; his fucked up sense of humor.
Remy knew him just long enough to know it's not. That's worse, that you have to question it, question if he's fucking with you, and pray he is in the way it'd make you hate him. He wants you to hate him. He'd wanted it for a long time now. maybe now this'll do it, finally tip you off, break you down.
McVries leans back up, hushed tones all nonchalant on broader shoulders clad in a camo-patterned jacket he's had for as long as you've known him, the striking scar on his tanned face like the beginning of the end; knowing this was coming, but now he was dedicated. It'd only been a few months time since it healed. Something changed. Something never went back.
” I don't. “ he concedes. easily. too easily. it means nothing. ” But I'm just as shit as the people still signin' up for it come registration. “
like stabbing an aching wound, one he knew was torn open for a long time now — sentimental bastard — one he didn't seem to care about, now, when it mattered most. the way it's almost easy conversation is like nausea lining the stomach as Pete grabs his backpack from a puddled bench, sky overcast, his eyes just as sharp. A normal school day, except it's not, except it's not. Apathy — always the reaper — she changed him.
or maybe he just changed.
"You know what's also hydrating? Water."
Chaz can barely stifle the laugh that threatens to leave her lips. This guy was a character, huh? "You, uh, do this often? I mean, if they're this good, I might as well have a few myself. Speaking of, um, how many have you had?"
@strangeattract was spoken to confidentially
"this place has bottomless mimosas." And it's said in such a way that suggests the person whispering to Chaz has indulged in a few too many of said bottomless mimosas. He looks up at her with a silly expression and shrugs, leaning so far back he nearly falls off his barstool.
"very... hydrating. stuff."
“ is that my blood? that’s my blood… ” - kennedy shepard
injury prompts // @lcngdays
"That's your blood," TK confirms as he throws away the bloody gauze and grabs a new one to press to the other's temple. After his team set up the triage center on the field, far away enough from the building that's still blazing with fire, TK stayed behind to identify and assess the patients, and then either send them to a hospital or colleague, or treat them himself. He just saw off the third ambulance when TK turned his attention to the newest patient.
Small cut on right temple that kept sluggishly bleeding. Possible head injury. Airway is clear. Breathing is adequate. Subtle signs of shock, maybe.
TK's previous questions went unanswered – which isn't an uncommon thing when dealing with patients – so he tries again now that the other finally spoke up.
"Can you tell me your name?"
Kennedy. The name has TK pause and it takes only a few seconds until his brain is well on its way to short-circuiting. Nobody here is supposed to know his first name, let alone his second, and TK's mind is already going through dozens of possible scenarios of how this happened until the other speaks up again and TK realizes that they weren't addressing him. Still... what are the odds.
TK thinks, or hopes, that maybe his inner struggle went unnoticed, for the other – Kennedy, his brain easily supplies – turned their head away to focus on the ongoing destruction instead.
"I'm so sorry," TK says as he briefly looks up to stare at the building that's engulfed by flames. Fires are bad enough by itself already.. but when it's residential buildings? God, TK can't imagine what it must be like to not just lose your home and belongings, but also some sense of security. Safety.
Shaking himself from those thoughts and instead focusing on the task at hand, TK pulls back the gauze again. Fortunately, it comes back cleaner – or a little less smeared with red – than the previous one. "Alright, Kennedy? My name's TK and I'm going to make sure you're doing okay, yeah? Think you can keep this pressed to your head for a minute? I just need to grab some stuff to clean the wound."
@f1rstresponder continued from (here)
Kennedy tries to focus on something, anything, to take their mind off the blood. It wasn't so much that blood bothered them, it was just that the bleeding wouldn't stop. They felt confused and borderline lightheaded.
They're distantly aware that he'd already asked them a few questions and they hadn't responded at all. They're a little embarrassed by that, but all they can do now is try and respond and not zone out.
"um... kennedy sa-" A brief stumble over their words before they correct themself. "shepard. kennedy shepard."
Slowly, they tilt their head towards the fire. Their brow furrows, causing them to wince as the cut on their temple is irritated by the movement. "that... was where... it was my apartment building. i just moved here from..."
They trail off, eyes fixated on the flames, a shudder running up through their body.