[01:44:42] king pup: just be a serial killer if all else fails
[01:44:54] qυєєη c: THATS THE PLAN B
[01:45:30] qυєєη c: i can kill them with insulin overdose bc i have loads of it, the injection is small enough not to make a mark and then it just looks like they died from lack of food
[01:45:37] qυєєη c: or energy
[01:45:57] qυєєη c: plus the insulin will be out their system by the time they’re looked over
[01:46:14] king pup: hey remember how we were gonna meet up one day
[01:46:15] king pup: lets not
( + cellomia )
"You’re the cello playing, right? Sorry, I saw you in a… concert thing."
( + ghxulie )
She used to hate those mothers with the screaming babies. She is now one of them.
"I’m sorry, if it’s any consolation, I hate myself too."
( + conisms )
"Busted said, that everyone bought their seventh alum, but they only make three, and one of them was just a live songs one so… everyone is liar these days to the honest."
"They’re gonna fine out sooner or later," he said with this eyebrows raised. "I won’t tell them," he added quickly with a smile. His sister seemed ot be happy, which was a rare sight. She had always been… looking for more, it seemed. "You think it’s going to end, don’t you?"
She joined the queue for coffee and boring looking sandwiches, considering. When she spoke finally, her voice was a little quieter. “I’m waiting for him to leave, or for something to go wrong. It’s like… living in total fear all the time. Something always goes wrong.”
If Iris had the ability to read the other’s thoughts, she wouldn’t bother to correct her. That, however, doesn’t mean that she isn’t wrong. Her lifestyle is one between a rock and a hard place; initiated by desperation and kept up thanks to fear of the unknown. To even sit her in her faux furs, smirking unabashedly, requires all her energy.
Blowing a gracious cloud of smoke from between her unpainted lips, Iris holds both of her hands up, including that which cradles her homemade cigarette. Her only homemade cigarette, if you can catch her drift. The message is clear: all out.
"Thanks anyway, I guess."
She finds herself standing a little taller, eyebrows raised. Skip back thirteen years and Cecelia was the Queen B, in an English boarding school where every girls father was a billionaire businessman and every mother was a heiress. She ruled the school, see? Because she was mean and manipulative and beautiful.
She’s still all those things, but she’s trying to be. The problem is, she feels like she’s being looked down on, and she doesn’t much like that. Makes her stomach twist.
"Gosh, you talk a lot, the Girls must get sick of it."
"—— Alphabe’. Righ’. Alphabe’. ———— Righ’."
He takes the pen in his right hand, twirling it through thin fingers before holding it in what is probably, the single most awkward way to hold a pen. But he goes for it anyway, shakily going over A. Seems he’s yet to figure out he’s left handed.
"Wait, hold on, hold your pen like—-" she’ll actually move his fingers for him, "this, it’ll get more comfortable."
Then she’ll look down at the page, even offering a little smile and an encouraging nod. Cee could be a good teacher, she likes kids, her sixth year body (who is now twenty four by the way, but she was eighteen when they met) just had a baby and Cee went to go see her!
"Right, so this can be pronounced ai, or ah.”
"Yes technically because I do not consider myself a criminal and thus find the title preposterous, although I am wanted from presumed authorities.” Lucifer snorts. ”You don’t know? I’m The Infection.”
You won’t find such a clueless girl for a couple hundred miles. Not out of her own will, a very over protective family the twenty five year old has, see, they like to keep her in the dark. “The what?”
Half rumours and broken information from listened into conversations is all she gets, you’ll have to forgive her.
With an absolute bellow of a yell he goes scrambling, iPhone at the ready, snapping as many shots of their little girl’s movements as he can. Of course he won’t go too close or put Molly off or anything, he just kinda stands by the side jumping with excitement and shouting at Cecelia.
"————!!!!!!!!!! CAMERA!!!!!!!!!!!! GE’ YER CAMERA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
No, Cecelia doesn’t need a video, she’ll remember this. Anyway, he’ll get enough, she just wants to pay attention to Molly right now, not her phone. Cee will pick up her toy and bend down, offering it out to Molly.
"Come on, what’s mummy got? What a clever girl!!"
"—— ‘scuse you I c—-c—-an spell me fuckin’ name, thanks."
That’s all he can spell, actually. His Mam kinda slacked with the home schooling and all but hey, she did him one solid.
She’ll sigh and push forward a piece of paper, with the alphabet written out in pencil, both upper and lower case.
"We’ll start out dead easy, just so you can impress me, just write over the alphabet in pen."
"—— Prob’ly ge’ th’younger lads wha’re trainin’ t’try ‘em, it’ll be fine."
The Bosses do that a lot, actually. Use the little kids with nowhere to go and no power to fight back as guinea pigs. It works for the most part, but of course there’s the occasional overdose when someone doesn’t factor size into the dosage. And let’s be honest, Nox has tried every single drug roaming round The Haus at least once, he’s totally gonna try this shit.
She’ll sit back, watch Nox for a moment, then glance at Molly. Then shout, and she’s up, barefeet hitting grass in seconds. It sounds like fear, but it’s not!!!! It’s excitement!!
Molly had been lying on the blanket Cee has put out for the three of them, (Nox, Mol and Scoob) but now she was of it, reaching for a toy she’s obviously chucked away.
"Nox, she’s crawling!!"
He’s going to lift them up and do the same just to piss her off.
"Trus’ me, ‘nyone f—-inds ou’ ‘bou’ this n’ I’d br—— break me own arm.”
"I want you to know, the only reason I’m doing this is because I’m embarrassed to be seen with someone who can’t write his own name."
And therefore, she wants to be seen with him. She likes him!!
She’s going to slam down those books.
"Right, if you tell anyone that I’m tutoring you, I’ll break your arm."