unlawful | duplicity inbox / cw for nsfw shenanigans.

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duplicity inbox / cw for nsfw shenanigans.

TEXT / VOICE / VIDEO / ACTION
NOTE: felix generally responds to everything in text, even voice or video calls. expect 90% of his replies to be text-based regardless of urgency.

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[ What does he even say to that? Ephemera flexes his hands, the burn shiny on his knuckles, and really wishes he knew. He used to be better at this part, he thinks. Knowing how to react to other people, how to be a person out of his armor. Now, everything feels complicated and strange. Foreign to him. He was good at this part, once - wasn't he? Or maybe he was just around people he trusted, who made sense.

Sad part is, Felix makes sense to him. That's the really fucked up bit. ]

shouldve kicked your door in and bashed your head into the wall.

[ Should've. Didn't. And now here they are. ]

do what you're gonna do

i never do anything less than that

you got him right btw

( locus' steadfast presence, the weighty anchor grounding felix to a rocky seabed. an immovable object to felix's unstoppable force. he's going to kill him, violently and brutally, that's already been decided, but he fucking misses him like he'd miss a limb, like he'd miss his heartbeat. there's no gravity here. there's nothing left to hold him down, and everyone, ephemera especially, will suffer for it.

yeah. felix is too sober for this too. )

anyway fuck you
don't respond or i'll kick your ass

[ There's a part of Ephemera - distant, twitchy, entirely too sober - that wants to ask what Locus looks like without his helmet. There's a person underneath the armor. Always is. That's the trouble. But that's not for him to know, is it? He didn't hate Locus but Ephemera didn't know him either. He was just there, a looming presence in the field. Like a force of nature with how often the others whispered about him.

Crazy, too. Apparently.

He exhales through his teeth, then tears a strip out of his shirt to bandage his hand before he gives into the impulse to dig into the wound and really make it scar. He doesn't ask. Felix might actually tell him the truth, and then what would they do?

And then, because there's something sharp and pulsing inside of his skull tonight: ]

get fucked

[ He really ought to let it lie. Move on.

Should.

Doesn't. ]

( this ornery bitch. )

jesus christ dude
you do realize telling me to get fucked is not the insulting suggestion you think it is, right?
i would gladly get fucked to spite you

if you want me to fuck you up just say so
i'm not gonna play footsie with you all fucking night

[ The problem - or one of them - is that Ephemera doesn't know what he wants. He ought to. It ought to be simple. Bash Felix's head against the wall and make him shut the fuck up. Sure, okay. Why the fuck not? It'd be textbook, clockwork, the expected thing. Even now, Ephemera can't say why he held back. Why he left the sketch and not more violence in his wake. It wouldn't have lasted even if they did manage to kill each other but it would have made sense.

This doesn't. ]

then fuck off.

[ He's going to get drunk. That bottle of tequila from work is about to become his new best friend. ]

( like the most annoying bird in his ear: )

k
sleep tight, t

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