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maskormenace
Text/audio/video OK.
Up to R for language, individual threads/comments to be marked with warnings accordingly in the subject header if you plase.
Up to R for language, individual threads/comments to be marked with warnings accordingly in the subject header if you plase.
no subject
[The thing is, Billy doesn't think he can hurt it. So he looks at Kavinsky a moment and squeezes, and it winds tight around Billy's fingers like a live thing, like some affectionate creature. He looks up at the other boy, then. His face is illuminated only by the glow of Kavinsky's soul.]
So?
Memories? Weird twinges in your heart? Deep and abiding love? Hate?
Anything?
cw suicidal ideation
a little knot appears between his eyebrows. he searches. listens inside of himself.
it's so quiet.]
No, [he says, at last. it doesn't occur to him that nothing is the thing that's happening, that the net effect of having his soul removed to look at would be to altogether feel less. vaguely, he supposes he feels better. but they are flying above the atlantic ocean on a disc of blue light at the moment, and that would put him in good spirits any day.] Maybe you gotta keep it out a long-ass time before that shit kicks in.
no subject
I thought it would be more like surgery.
[He tilts his head, looks a little hesitant.]
I should probably put it back.
[They're in a strange bubble. It's a place where Billy's magic isn't scary or weird or annoying. Kavinsky is, oddly enough, the only person who treats it that way. Like it's magic. They're flying, and Billy has K's soul, and maybe he just doesn't want to go back to the real world where his magic shop sells more books than spells.
He opens his hands a little, and the while pulsing thing floats a bit, just a bit, suspended between them.
(What Billy really wants is to study this more, his desire to know overcoming his good sense)]
no subject
he'll want it again, someday.
but right now, he merely stretches his arms out like he's decorating a crucifix, chest open, wiggling his fingers in the free and open air. he feels better than he has in awhile. but it's quiet. subtle, not the spiky ecstasy of cocaine or the madness of dreaming. so he doesn't think it.] But we should do this again some time, [he says.]
no subject
[Billy huffs a little, but he nudges Kavinsky just a bit.]
If you let me experiment on you with my magic, you're probably crazy, but you're also going to quickly turn into my favorite person.
[He starts to lower them. His temper has abated. He feels better. It's stupid and weird to feel better after removing another human's soul but Billy Kaplan has never really been normal.]
But let me know anytime you want to mess around.
[Magically, he means.]
cw homophobic language
so much weird light. and fingers inside his chest.]
I'm a cunt, but I'm a cunt who likes weird fucking magic tricks, [kavinsky says, cheerfully. not-so-subtly, he runs a hand up his own chest, assuring himself that his ribs and nipples are where they used to be, and nothing in that way is amiss.] Come on. Let's go back and write a pro-faggot slogan on the sand.
no subject
Okay, deal.
[And from then it's an easy float down, a night spent doing stupid things, maybe, but Kavinsky'll make Billy smile. Maybe that's enough.]