i've been lonely lately | open , intoxicated dummy

[MERGE.]

there's this promise of fall in the air.

and yet, he elijah doesn't think anything could feel as cold as he does.

his new life , his chance to start over? he was supposed to get a second chance. a second chance at life, at happiness, and love? but somehow, wherever he went trouble seemed to follow. he fucking killed someone, and although he thought he was helping, was eddie really going to believe that? eddie and elijah considered each other best friends sure— best friends in the sense they could do stupid shit in the company of each other without any judgement, in fact they encouraged each other— but both harbored similar qualities that was worth trusting; and at heart, both were businessmen.  and love? hah.

joey was a stoic and heartless slut. she took advantage, and played on his emotions and when he makes a mistake ? she pulls the rug beneath him. settles for some boring ass white man with mediocre charms that just so happens to be one of eddie's many siblings. the bastard doesn't think so— all stoic and empty and boring— but elijah could see right through him. he doesn't love her. he is just using her. he wants someone beautiful on his arm. . . someone who could boost his appearance to the world who looks in on him. given the chance he'd find someone better, he'd leave joey. but of course, would she see that? no. she's just as shallow as he is. and as much as he resented william, he could almost say he resented her more; she wasn't anything that he'd expected her to be, and so he's heartbroken. again.

in new york, one could easily get lost into the streets; shed themselves of the gritty shit and move on, but it wasn't so easy with her, as she's everywhere. not only that, but their fall-out makes him paranoid. what if she tells someone? he doesn't hesitate, or feel bad about, reminding her what would happen if she does— gets some satisfaction, even, of seeing the brief rise of panic rise on her features— and it may be cruel, but in some twisted sense, he's gotten her attention, if for only a moment. he doesn't even know why he still needs it even then.

since the discovery , he hasn't gotten much sleep.

it's why he sits on the balcony, his legs hanging loosely between bars, the temperature barely bothering him due to his body being warmed by the alcohol he's already consumed. to himself , he sings quietly. but to those who might pass, he's singing incoherently, a blubbering sound of nothing leaving his lips. maybe it's a club song, maybe it's a song his mama used to blare in the kitchen. he doesn't know anymore. and he barely notices the sound of footsteps approaching.

[BRENDAN]

Brendan doesn’t believe in second chances.

The finger, the twitch, the pull, the bang, the thud. Blood splattering across the dirt, chest heaving up and down until it falls into a stony silence. How does one deserve another chance after ending a life? After taking away a human being, a whole person that someone out there cared for. Someone like Brendan. Brendan hardly is one to empathize, at least not outwardly, but death is...permanent. And permanence sends shivers down his spine.

If one were to murder, well, they are damned to hell for all eternity to Brendan.

He heard about what happened to that—Aiden chick. He was gone when the murder took place, and some part of him regrets that. He never met this Aiden, never talked to her, he was gone when she joined he supposes, but she was a member of the lodge, it sounds like. Whether he likes it or not, anyone that is a part of the lodge is going to affect Brendan one way or another; Aiden, although buried six feet under (he thinks, he didn’t bother to ask), affects him, too.

Even though it’s nighttime, everyone should be asleep, there would be no strangers lurking around at this hour, Brendan grips onto his staff so tightly that his knuckles burn red. No one can hide in a hallway, but he looks side-to-side feverishly, the palms of his hands sweaty. Yes, he knows the lodge is supposed to be some cheesy, forced "family," but to be quite frank the thought of someone climbing through that window ten feet away from him has him peering over the windowsill, breathing through teeth.

He hears something.

So he tenses, straining his ears.

Babbling.

Eyebrows furrowing together, Brendan whips his head towards the door to the balcony next to him. He gulps a little, maybe licks his lips, and with a tilt of the head he wraps one hand around the doorknob. Waits, then pulls, and he blinks at the sight of some...man—does he know this man? His mouth parts open, but no words come out. Uh...he might know this man...wait—no, no, Brendan wouldn’t associate himself with crazy babblers (except for Milo).

"What are you doing?" Brendan blurts out, and he even flinches at his own words, gritting his teeth at the volume.

AND I WILL STAY AWAY. 384 words. beware hidden scroll.

[BOWIE]

aspen’s tried to stay blissfully ignorant to a lot of the shit going on within flintlock. he minds his own business, does his chores, and skates when he finds a place that allows it. the rumors and gossiping makes him squirm, he doesn’t like being in the presence of it. it feels wasteful and makes him uncomfortable. because of that, bowie only knows what eddie’s said in meetings, but most of that seems to be threats, not too informative; which aspen is actually pretty thankful for.

he’s just wandering the lodge in his own thoughts when a noise catches his attention. it seems to be someone singing, hell yeah, that seems like something he wants to be in on. not that he sings, he doesn’t and can’t, but listening to someone else sounded like something new and cool. a little group around a crackling firebird the background, someone singing and someone gently strumming a guitar, bowie hopes it’s what he’ll find. he spots a young kid who seems to be looking too, so he turns and follows. before he can alert him to his presence, the guy disappears into a doorway which allows for the sound to flow more.

there.

aspen ends up on the heels of brendan and is looking over his shoulder, spotting elijah. the two have gotten along so far, so he is excited to see it’s him singing. “ bro, you sound so good! “ he says. oh, very different reaction from the other guy. he doesn’t think he’s met him and hopes he didn’t startle him, showing up basically right behind him. bowie cracks a grin, hoping that could apologize for any spooks he caused, “ sorry, i just got excited when i heard somebody. i’m bowie, though, “