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Post by Deleted on Dec 28, 2016 16:48:26 GMT -5
"You."
Emil's voice was gruffer than it had been before, any possible warmth or kindness that he had put on for Flintlock completely erased. Stony eyes settled on Carey and he stood up to his full height, setting his gun down and taking a rather threatening step forward. He was not, it seemed, afraid to use his imposing figure to the best of his ability.
"I spent years trying to fix my kid, and I don't need some filthy person like you screwing that up, y'hear? When the Lord gave me a boy to fix, I fixed him, and you, a homosexual, will not stop this," he curled his lip slightly. "You cannot contaminate my boy again."
- - -
Isak snorted softly, still finding it more like a kitten with a glock than an actual human being vaguely threatening. Most people have some sort of guilt-switch - unless their name was Flintlock Darling - and so he wasn't too bothered, and on the off-chance that she did shoot him? At this range, it would either miss if she had terrible aim, or kill him outright, or maybe just hurt a bit. Either way, he had Carey to patch him up - or he'd die. One of the two.
"Oh, that," he said without much enthusiasm. "I'll answer that. He is more skilled than you will ever be with long-range weapons, completely trained and quick," he shrugged, "pair that with his tracking, and you've got yourself a killer. The cool thing?"
His smile was as blank as the rest of him.
"He's killed survivors like you before, and he won't mind adding another body to his list if I'm dead, kid."
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Post by broken on Dec 28, 2016 16:58:38 GMT -5
"He's killed people like me before? Oh my, doesn't he sound pleasant? I'd love to run into him and see what your friend can do," Tabitha muttered with a grin, now losing interest in holding him at gun point. She lowered the gun completely , though she never took her eyes off him.
"By the sounds of it, it seems like he's killed a lot of people. Is that true?" She wasn't expecting to get much out of him. He was obviously limited to the information he wanted to give out.
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Post by floruit on Dec 28, 2016 18:54:30 GMT -5
That whole speech would have been hilarious had it not been directed at him by a man who was taller than him, stronger than him, and splattered with dried blood. Contaminated? What kind of damn hypocrite was he? “I didn’t do anything to him.” That was utterly false, but Carey did have some semblance of self-preservation. His instincts were urging him to back up, so he did, reaching behind him to grab the doorknob in case Emil decided to come closer. He wasn’t as afraid as he should have been, though. It was hard for him to feel anything but rage and disgust towards this man.
“If anyone is to blame for contaminating him, it’s you. You can’t possibly have overlooked how badly you f***** him up when you fixed him. Honestly, I’m surprised he’s still alive after all the harm you’ve done.” Talking back was such a bad idea, but he didn’t stop himself. Killing the only doctor a group had was a bad idea. He wouldn’t dare go that far. Everyone else was gone, so there was no one to stop him—but, honestly, who would be able to stop him if he set his mind on it? Flint was the only person good enough with weapons to possibly hold his own against a military man, and if it came down to a choice between him and Emil—well, he knew which one Flint had picked the first time around.
He opened the door without looking away from the man in front of him. This man was unpredictable. His safety couldn’t be guaranteed, even though this was his house. Even though he hadn’t done anything aggressive himself. Even though he had put down the gun he was cleaning. None of it meant that he would survive this.
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Post by Deleted on Dec 28, 2016 20:09:32 GMT -5
"Fascinating," Isak drawled, already bored of this conversation and studying his nails. "You appear to have suicidal tendencies, both in relation to my friend and to the fact that you won't stop asking questions that I don't particularly feel like answering."
He lifted his shoulders in a delicate shrug.
"I'm going to go now, and you're going to let me and leave me be."
- - -
If there was one thing to be said, it was that Emil was not used to being told off. His wife had smiled and had accepted what he said, his sons had done as they were told, and so his eyes narrowed dangerously down at Carey, stepping into the other man's person space and looming.
"You," he said, in a voice that was soft and dangerous and far too calm, "are pushing it. It wasn't me who messed up my son, it was himself - he is a sinner and I fixed him and you have managed to undo all of that effort, all of it. You do not have the right to damage people, it is wrong and unholy and you cannot redeem yourself."
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Post by floruit on Dec 28, 2016 21:38:00 GMT -5
This was it. He was definitely going to die. As far as Emil was concerned, he was already damned and killing him would be ridding the earth of a terrible person. Carey wanted to say something, but the words were sticking in his throat. Over the past six months, he had never been so completely convinced that he was going to die.
So, he was irredeemable. That didn’t sound true. There was one person responsible for wrecking Flint’s life and for ruining what little stability their group had. And he was capable of doing it all again. With Flint, with Isaac—hell, with everyone. No one in the group would fit his ideal, and no one would dare go against him if Flint defended him. And what would even happen to Flint? He had barely gotten through being “fixed” the first time. It could only get worse the second time around.
The hand behind his back moved away from the door to the gun he was carrying. He didn’t know if the man had noticed it earlier, but he was pretty sure he didn’t expect Carey to go for a weapon. Why else would he have dropped his gun? His pistol was loaded, and there was just enough space between them that he should have time to shoot before Emil could slap it away. He noted all of this calmly, then, in one motion, lifted his pistol and fired.
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Post by Deleted on Dec 28, 2016 21:48:20 GMT -5
It was a shorter distance, he was too close, and Emil knew it.
The man was dead when the shot went off, and he'd known that, too. Whatever he'd been about to say was cut off by the bodily thud he gave as he fell, dead, to the ground. The fact that he had been dead before he'd hit the ground suggested something vital had been hit. The hole in his head said that it was his brain. It didn't go through, so on the upside: no mess.
But bodies did really gross things when they died.
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Post by broken on Dec 28, 2016 22:27:56 GMT -5
Tabitha pocketed the gun with a shrug, still staring st him. She said nothing about the first thing that he said. Perhaps he was right or she was just really curious about him. "Fine, I'll let you go, but I will not let you go alone. I will be coming with you. You've sparked my interest about this group of yours. Who knows, if I meet them, then I'll be on my Merry way. I just want to see if they're what you describe them as."
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Post by floruit on Dec 28, 2016 23:34:59 GMT -5
[ murder count: 1. we did it kids. ]
It was done. The body was somewhere no one would find it, at least not until it had decomposed to the point that it was unrecognizable. He had briefly considered burning it, but the smell of a burning human body couldn’t be explained away. Instead, Emil’s corpse and all his belongings would languish away in some backyard shed far enough away from their base to draw attention. It was a fitting mausoleum. He wasn’t sure exactly how he had gotten it that far—the adrenaline spike had helped, as had the idea of putting it on a tarp so he could drag it instead of carry it. He was nothing if not industrious.
There was hardly any indication in the front room that anything strange had gone on, but he scrubbed the floors until he couldn’t see traces of anything on them, especially not blood. He changed clothes and put the ones he had been wearing in a trash bag to get rid of later. Burning them would be the best. They weren’t even bloody, but he didn’t want them to serve as a reminder of what had just happened. Finally, he put his gun away, hoping he wouldn’t need to use it again for a very long time. Hopefully not ever, although that didn’t seem realistic.
When he finally sat down on the couch, his hands were still shaking. How long had it taken? Twenty minutes? An hour? He wasn’t sure. Everything had kind of blurred together. Carey didn’t even know if he would remember all of it the next day. His memories were already getting mixed up—what had he done first, move the body or pack up his belongings? Did it even matter?
It was lunchtime. The others would be back soon. He needed to put something on, but he had made it this far without throwing up and didn’t want to risk doing it while he was cooking for the rest of the group. Maybe he was getting sick. Or maybe it was just the adrenaline still in his system. After a moment he decided that curling up on the couch and not moving for a while was his best option.
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Post by Deleted on Dec 28, 2016 23:41:12 GMT -5
For a moment, Isak stared. Then, he clicked his tongue, gave the finger-guns to the woman and tilted his head upwards.
"No."
( IM SORRY FOR THES HORT POST IF ITW AS LONG IT WOULDVE LOST ITS COMEDIC EFFECT )
- - -
Flint felt bad. He felt bad that he'd put his father above Carey, and he felt bad that he'd pushed the other man away, and so he'd gone for a long walk to clear his head. The guilt stayed, which was weird, right? He didn't feel guilty over killing anything, but he upset his fake boyfriend and suddenly everything was awful.
And so, upon realising why, he hurried back home and grimaced as he entered, shutting the door behind himself and entering the room, eyes instantly pulling to Carey. Only briefly did he hesitate to look around to ensure that Emil wasn't around, before he moved to crouch down in front of the man, eyes worried.
"Carey," he murmured, "are you okay? I'm sorry I said those things, I wasn't thinking and I was kinda scared that you'd hate me or something and I'm sorry."
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Post by floruit on Dec 29, 2016 1:00:52 GMT -5
Carey lifted an arm to cover his face as Flint began speaking to him, intensely paranoid that he knew what he had done. But if he had even the slightest suspicion about why Emil was no longer in the house, it didn’t show. Part of him wanted Flint to leave him alone. He couldn’t turn to him for comfort. Not after what had just happened. Another part of him wanted the contact. It would be a welcome distraction.
“I’m fine.” Untrue, but lying about being fine was a habit he had picked up from Flint. “I’m not angry.” That was true. Mostly he just felt detached from everything that was going on around him. “I’m just… I don’t know. I think I might be getting sick,” he added, huddling up against the back of the couch in hopes he might disappear into it. That wasn’t very likely, but, hey, he could hope.
What could he mention to distract Flint from a badly timed feelings talk? Oh, yeah. The rest of the group. “I think Reina and Isak and Nathaniel should be back soon. It’s close to lunch.”
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Post by Deleted on Dec 29, 2016 1:25:17 GMT -5
For a few moments, Flint simply stared - before he kicked off his shoes and throw aside his jacket and climbed onto the couch, all but bunching himself against Carey, as if he could protect him from the world. It took him a few moments to find a position where he wouldn't be laying his weight against the man and he wouldn't be crushing him, but once he did, he began threading his fingers through his hair.
"My poor baby," he hummed lightly, still running his hands over Carey's hair. "We can't have our doctor getting sick," he leaned over, briefly, to brush his lips against his fake boyfriend's hair. His fake ex-boyfriend's? He wasn't sure. "It is close to lunch, but our children are also adults and you're going to rest."
That was probably part of the reason why he'd climbed onto the sofa.
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Post by Percival de Rolo III on Dec 29, 2016 2:00:42 GMT -5
(I'd like to join this, if that's okay. ^-^ (Descriptions under spoiler, one of them is the other's dog so idk if she needs a separate form but I made it anyway. :3))
Alejandro "Alex" Martinez -- 21 -- Singularity Alex is a full-blooded Hispanic, having moved from Mexico with his family to the United States early in his youth. His primary language is Spanish and a lot of it sneaks into his English. He had a troubled youth and did a lot of things he shouldn't have, but an accident forced a change of heart and he got a job with the police. Alejandro is a former police officer in a local K-9 unit. He helped whelp, raise, and train several litters of puppies and worked in the field with the dogs his station kept. Timber is his third partner but also the one he bonded with best. When the end of the world came, his dog helped to keep him alive and in turn he protected her. The two now have an irreplaceable bond and complete trust in each other. Alex is average in both height and weight, with a lean build and dark tan skin. His hair is a dark brown, almost black, and fairly messy and disheveled given his circumstances. He has several tattoos on his arms and back. A photorealistic rose adorns his right bicep, with the red of the rose dripping off it like blood or paint, with the thorns exaggerated. A snake intertwines with the stem. His other arm is completely covered in a sleeve made up of Mayan and Aztec inspired designs, and this sleeve winds up over his upper back and his shoulder, ending halfway up his neck. He has strong facial features but soft brown eyes. He may appear intimidating and can be gruff at first, but his quietness is really because he's pretty bad at talking to people. He has a Colt .45 revolver from his time in the force as well as a switchblade. Alex has a slight limp in his left leg, a consequence of the accident mentioned earlier. It doesn't effect his running or walking speed too much but it can be painful to run or walk for long periods of time.
Timber -- 5 -- Singularity Timber is Alejandro's ex-police dog and partner. She is a Belgian Malinois, similar to a German Shepard but somewhat smaller and lighter, with a light fawn color to her fur and black mask. She was originally trained as a search dog, able to distinguish and track certain smells such as those of drugs, explosives, and cadavers and alert her handler before tracking and finding the source of the smell. Now her sense of smell and obedience serve well in the apocalypse, with her acute sense of smell helping to detect zombies as well as find food and drugs for medical supplies. Her training also includes an attack command, and when necessary she can fight more ferociously than any human could with tooth and claw. She is a very smart dog and despite her intimidating appearance, really likes people and snuggles and squeaky toys. She still has her work harness, a black vest that clips on over her chest and back that has 'POLICE K9' printed in white letters on both sides. Alex has modified it considerably with extra straps, buckles, velcro strips, and pouches, attach with thread and needle, superglue, or duct tape- whatever he can find. This way he can attach stuff to her if he needs to carry something. Alejandro was not having a great day. He'd ran out of dog food yesterday and Timber wouldn't stop looking at him with puppy eyes. He'd also come home from scavenging yesterday to find his makeshift shelter destroyed and his food stolen, so that was great too. Now he and his dog were going to starve, and they'd do it in the cold unless they found new shelter. To top it all off, he'd also cut his hand pretty badly on some glass earlier and the stupid cut stung like nothing else, though as far as he could tell it wasn't serious. He let out a long sigh from his spot behind a fence in some backyard somewhere. Timber perked up at the noise, looking at him expectantly. "Lo siento, perrito. No tengo comida para ti." <Sorry, puppy. I don't have food for you.> The words slipped quietly out of his mouth as he reached a shaky hand out to pet his dog. She let out a single, almost imperceptible whine as she turned to look away from him. Alex pulled his hand away and stood up, ready to move on after their short rest. The dog stood up as well, following in a perfect heel position even without a leash. He smiled at her, never amazed by her somehow professional-seeming behavior. He'd been there for all of Timber's training sessions and he'd helped to raise the pup, but he was still in awe at how calm and collected she seemed. The world was quite literally ending around them and still she would keep doing her job.
The methodical sound of snow crunching under their feet was suddenly interrupted by a short, low growl from the Malinois. Alex immediately tensed and looked to his dog, recognizing the sound as a signal- she'd smelled something up ahead. "¿Que es eso?" <What is it?> He whispered to the dog as Timber sniffed the air and started to walk towards the smell more cautiously than before. Alex loosened his pistol in its holster and followed after, keeping an eye open for any sign of people or zombies. It wasn't long before he began to hear voices in the distance. They sounded aggravated and he picked up the pace, hoping to break up whatever conflict was happening. Maybe it was foolish, but he was still a police officer and he would do whatever he could to protect people. Now the voices were just around the corner. He took cover behind a building, hoping to remain unseen until he could figure out what was going on. With a whispered command to Timber, he told her to stay and keep quiet while he poked his head around the corner to see three people conversing- a trenchcoat-wearing woman with a big rifle, a smaller person (woman? he couldn't tell at this distance and with those clothes), and a man. It appeared the sniper woman was alone while the tall man and the other person were in a group, and they were trying to talk the sniper down from shooting them. But what the man was saying about their group... maybe they could help him? He hadn't seen an entirely peaceful group yet- they were almost always thugs and bandits- but if these folk were all right maybe they could be civilized and help a man and his dog? The sniper sounded like a problem though... He would have to wait and see, observe a little more before deciding whether to intervene or reveal himself.
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Post by Deleted on Dec 29, 2016 2:03:52 GMT -5
( OH BOY flint is acutely cynophobic this is not gonna be a #fun time for him omg unfortunately i dont have any characters free rn i just Murdered one and the other two r being interacted w/ i apologise ! )
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Post by Percival de Rolo III on Dec 29, 2016 2:07:19 GMT -5
(Oh oops lol)
(Rip Flint)
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Post by floruit on Dec 29, 2016 2:21:26 GMT -5
[ of course you can join! i'll add your bios to the front page in a second. i can't really respond to your post right now, though. i'm sorry!! river is currently away, so her two ocs are out of commission for the time being, and nathaniel wouldn't stop paying attention to sniper woman long enough to notice another person unless they did something very noticeable. and my other character is at their base trying to deal with your standard post-murder jitters. ]
Carey couldn’t help it. He relaxed, letting out a slow sigh. His whole body kind of hurt, but that could probably be blamed on the fact that he had been tensed up for the past... however long. He was hyperaware of how his body felt, most of which could be summed up in one phrase: really bad. Flint’s presence was nice. He could focus on that, instead of his achiness and acute… guilt wasn’t the right word. More like dread. He didn’t feel bad about what he had done, but you couldn’t just kill someone and walk away from it unharmed. Right?
And, as far as everyone else knew, Emil wasn’t dead. Just elsewhere. Which meant it didn’t really make sense for Flint to be so openly affectionate with him. Hadn’t they just yelled at each other about that? Or something like that. “Wasn’t this supposed to be over? Are you afraid of getting caught?” Yeah, he was being mean, but he had recently been told “I love you” and then immediately dropped by the person who was now petting his hair. He had reasons to be bitter.
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Post by Deleted on Dec 29, 2016 2:25:33 GMT -5
As gently as he could (and this was rather gentle, considering how slender his hands were), he moved his hands to cup Carey's face, using his thumbs to push the other's man head up - just slightly, a gentle motion made so that he could look at the other man's face more than anything else.
"I'm terrified of getting caught," he admitted. "But conversion camps aren't here anymore. I keep...forgetting that? I guess. It's hard to explain," he exhaled shakily, leaned down to bump his nose with Carey's. "I was thinking about what you said. You're right. I'm an ass to choose him over you," despite them supposedly being fake, but he didn't feel like this was fake. He liked it too much. "I over-reacted. I'm sorry."
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Post by Percival de Rolo III on Dec 29, 2016 2:27:59 GMT -5
(Yeah it's all good. I have to go to sleep soon anyway. :3)
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Post by floruit on Dec 29, 2016 2:33:01 GMT -5
[ Percival de Rolo III: ok!!! i just updated the little news section on the front page, also, but if you have any questions about recent happenings in the rp or the setting or anything i would be happy to answer your questions. ]
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Post by floruit on Dec 29, 2016 3:19:43 GMT -5
How the hell did Flint manage to say almost exactly what he wanted to hear? It was unfair. This man was too good not to forgive almost immediately. Besides, Carey had always been a sucker for anyone who acted vulnerable around him. He was too trusting in that way. If someone let down their guard in front of him, whether or not it was genuine, he would fight for them. And although he wasn’t much good at protecting people, he tried to make the people he loved happy.
“It’s alright, I overreacted too. I just don’t want you getting hurt. You deserve so much better.” He wanted to reciprocate all the affection Flint was piling on him, but that seemed wrong. There was no way he was allowed to be this happy after doing something so horrible. Still, nothing was stopping him. He looped an arm around Flint’s waist and pulled him closer. Yeah, this was too good to be true. So what? Karmatic retribution would come for him eventually, but not now. “I suspected that was what you were talking about. I’m sorry that happened to you. But you’re right. They don’t exist anymore. Things will be better. Things have to get better.”
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Post by Deleted on Dec 29, 2016 3:24:32 GMT -5
Flint leaned forward to brush his nose against Carey's, glad that he wasn't being pushed away. Feeling a little safer, he settled against his boyfriend and closed his eyes, resting his forehead against the other's. This felt okay, this felt safe, and he didn't know why.
"Mmm," he hummed softly, and half-opened his eyes. "I know. Yeah. I just...forget, a lot? I mean, afterwards I was so messed up that my dosage was increased and I just straight-up rejected people," he paused. "I've never been in a relationship before. It sorta hit me, the other day, that all of the stuff we've done - even kissing - has been a first time for me."
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Post by floruit on Dec 29, 2016 4:03:13 GMT -5
Well. That was news to him. He opened his eyes to see if he was being serious and didn’t see any indication in his expression that he was lying “Really?” Flint had done a good job of making him think otherwise, even if it hadn’t been intentional. “I knew a lot of things were new to you, but… not that new.” Oh god. He had ruined this good, pure man, and he hadn’t even realized.
“I’m so sorry. You just—I mean, you seemed… I was… I’m sorry. If I had known, I would have tried to make it better for you. I will in the future.” Wow, he was really screwing up the whole first boyfriend thing. First fake boyfriend. Whatever. What kind of first kiss happened while you were having terrible withdrawals? Although that one hadn’t exactly been his fault. “I can’t believe I, a terrible man, have ruined you forever.”
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Post by Deleted on Dec 29, 2016 4:12:51 GMT -5
At Carey's reaction, Flint laughed. It wasn't like the shaky laughs he'd done when he had been going through the withdrawals, or the drugged-up laughs or the bitter half-laughs, but a startled laugh that he noticed the other man always managed to draw out of him. He exhaled slowly and smiled.
"Don't panic over it," he snorted, reaching up one hand to lazily brush through Carey's hair. "You're good. Everything's been good," he closed his eyes again and collapsed, completely limp, into Carey's arms. He was safe, and this was home. "'m love you."
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Post by broken on Dec 29, 2016 15:12:46 GMT -5
For a moment, Isak stared. Then, he clicked his tongue, gave the finger-guns to the woman and tilted his head upwards. "No." ( IM SORRY FOR THES HORT POST IF ITW AS LONG IT WOULDVE LOST ITS COMEDIC EFFECT ) (Sorry for disappearing last night!) Tabitha let out an overly dramatic sigh. "Oh come on! You tell me about this group and you don't expect me to want to come," she said crossing her arms now. "Fine if you don't want me to go, then you're free to go"
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Post by floruit on Dec 30, 2016 3:02:31 GMT -5
[ i'm just gonna casually slam in here at late o'clock with a post before i pass out. ]
“A little too late for that, but I’m trying to play it off.” Carey had never been great at keeping his emotions completely under wraps. Luckily for him, the reason for him feeling something was easier to hide than the feeling itself. He could blame any obvious anxiety or discomfort on him being a nervous man. That would be useful in the next few weeks. But he didn’t want to think about that. For a little while, at least, he just wanted to be happy.
“I love you too.” The phrase was frighteningly easy to say. He could have probably ignored Flint’s muffled “love you” without offending him, especially considering… well, their entire situation, but he didn’t want to. He meant what he said, and that was scary. Another time he would worry about how to deal with the knowledge that he had gotten attached to someone so quickly. Not now. For now, he would try to forget about the potential consequences to his actions and enjoy being in the moment.
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Post by Deleted on Dec 30, 2016 3:29:03 GMT -5
( dw broken flo always Vanishes on me )
"'wesome," said Isak, and promptly walked off.
He wasn't stupid enough to go back to the base when there was the possibility of being trailed, so he simply shoved his hands in his pockets and walked. His walking was with purpose, as if he knew where he was going. Man, being an ex-psychology student was awesome. He'd managed to get a good amount of extras from his professor, who had totally loved him. Probably moreso because of his interesting brain (tm).
- - -
Despite the other man's words, Flint laughed softly, pressing himself as close as he could physically get and tilting his head up to brush his lips over the man's jaw, before leaning up to nose-boop him lightly, a gentle motion that he quite liked doing. Nose boops were awesome. He loved them.
"You're a cradle robber," he teased, "I was so pure."
He reached up again to thread his fingers through Carey's hair, considering whether he'd be allowed to fix the haircut or not. He wanted to, really, but the only thing he could do was an undercut.
"Really, though, I know it doesn't help - but don't worry," he snorted, "I'm a grown-ass man."
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Post by broken on Dec 30, 2016 21:28:36 GMT -5
Tabitha, in fact, had been thinking of following the guy back to the group. He played the part so well, that she didn't even bother thinking that the guy was not heading back to the base.
She quietly slipped out of the store she had been in, trying her best to stay far enough away and making as little noise as possible. If she was lucky, he wouldn't notice her, but if he did- oh well, she'd just tell him the truth.
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