forum i don't wanna feel better (small group)

Started January 07, 2022 by Deleted user

tune

Edit topic

Lol I’m a gothlit fan I guess. Anyways, I’ll post a starter soon.

Maroon was writing in his log, not really paying attention to the others or what they were doing. He was busy sketching up plans for their next heist, typing up codes for breaking into banks, that sort of thing. If anyone needed him, he'd be there, but he was really only good as an idea guy. He didn't do well with direct combat, unless he was choking people out from inside of their lungs, the group couldn't even get near him very well unless they were wearing gas masks no matter how hard he tried to contain himself. Honestly, he was sort of useless.

Michael sat up on the old, torn up couch that occupied the group’s shelter. He didn’t usually take naps there, but he was especially tired today. He stretched. They really needed a new couch.
He messed with his hands, picking at some fresh scrapes from his latest endeavors. He turned his attention to Maroon.
“How’re you feeling, kid?”

Gus shakily took out the crude drawing the last group had given him, a map. A guide to where there were others like him. He took a deep breath as the large, intricate house came into view, nestled among the dirty streets and crooked alleyways Gus knew so well. They braced themselves for any type of danger, cracking the bones in their hand as they approached the door, not knowing wether to knock or run away

Michael thought he heard someone approaching, and prepared himself for the worst.
“I’ll be right back, gotta check something….”
He walked over to the door, opening it quietly to see if anyone was there. He almost didn’t expect for a person to actually be at the door, but he remembered something one of his friends had mentioned a few days prior.
“You’re…. the kid Argos told me about, right? Gus?”

Gus stepped back quickly, looking down at their old shoes as their blood red eyes darted around the street.
“Y-yes.” He rasped, nervously stroking their arms. He looked up, almost willing himself to look at the man.
“You are… Michael?”

He nodded. This kid looked cold, and starving, and Michael knew just the thing that would help. “Come in, I just made some empanadas.”
Michael closed the door behind Gus. The house wasn’t in the greatest condition, but he did what he could to keep it tidy. The entire house smelled of vibrantly seasoned food, a sure sign that Michael had been cooking not long earlier.
He led Gus to the living room and gestured for him to sit down. He spoke to him from the kitchen as he placed a few, still relatively fresh empanadas on a plate, snapping his fingers to produce a small flame.
“Welcome to our humble abode. It ain’t much, but it’s all we’ve got….”
Before long, after the empanadas had been restored to their original warmth, he set the plate down on the coffee table that accompanied the couch.
“Family recipe from one of my foster homes. Be careful, it’s hot.”
Michael had grabbed a plate of empanadas for himself, and began to eat them.

Gus nodded swiftly, slowly and cautiously following after Michael as his gaze flicked to every nook and corner of the house. He slowly made himself comfortable on the chair as he stared at the empinadas, then at Michaels gift.
Fire… He thought, making sure his gaze never left Michael's flammable hand.
"Th-thank you." He stuttered, carefully grabbing one of the warm pastries and taking small bites

Michael ate the empanadas, glancing at Gus. He finished relatively quickly and put his plate away, returning to the living room.
“Is there anything else you need? You look cold…”
He felt deeply concerned for this kid, but was worried that he would take his kindness as an attempt to gain his trust in order to betray him. Michael overthought often.

Gus closed his eyes as he finished the empanadas much slower. It had been a long time since he had food like that. He opened his tired eyes to watch Michael, still nervous about being in the home of a strange man, surrounded by walls with no escape.
"Um… yeah. M-maybe a blanket." He mumbled, looking down at the rest of his meal

Mary burst though the front door and walked into the living room, were everyone was sitting. "I just did the best job ever!" she yelled and dropped a stack a twenties on the table. "The people who I did it for really wanted this guy dead and… who's the new guy?" Mary looked at the man sitting in front of her. He was sickly and thin. And really, the guy looked like he had died then was awoken with a fire alarm. "What's your name?" Mary asked, slowly stepped toward him.

Michael grabbed a blanket and draped it over him.
“This is Gus, he’s the newest member of our team. Want any empanadas? I’ve got some extras.”

(Lmaoooo!)

Gus didn’t look up. He rubbed his hands together as he moved some of the bones in them, making a quite unpleasant cracking sound. He pulled the blanket around himself, sighing at the warmth as they finished their share of the empanadas.

"Sure." she said, taking one. "So anyway, long story short, my last job payed really well." She bit into the empanada and grinned. "This is amazing." Mary told Michael. She knelt down at the table and started counting the money, cringing when Gus crackled.

“Thanks, kid! Traditional recipe.”
Michael picked up Gus’ plate, putting it in the sink to be washed.
“We might have enough for a new couch soon… I’ve been making pretty good money too, and we need one pretty bad…”
He sat back down in his chair, looking over at Gus.
“I’ll let you get settled in here… I should have some extra clothes in the spare bedroom. They’ll be a little big on you, but they’re in decent shape, and they’re pretty comfortable. You can sleep in there if you like, or on the couch if you’d prefer that.”
Michael pointed behind him to the main staircase. “I’ll be upstairs in my room if you need anything. It’s the last door on the right. Please don’t be afraid to ask if you need anything at all…”
He trailed off, realizing that he was probably going overboard with his kindness. Michael wanted to be as welcoming as possible for this kid, as he could tell that they had it pretty rough, but he was worried he’d cross the line. He headed upstairs, whispering curses at himself down the hallway. He closed his bedroom door and sat down at his old, stained desk, grabbing a wrinkled piece of paper and beginning to draw.

Gus nodded, muttering a thanks as Michael took his plate. The couch seemed fine to him. Better than most of the ones he stayed on, and he always wore big clothes. He hadn't worn anything his size in a long time. Overall, this was much better than he was used to, though Michaels harsh kindness worried him. Gus had been used before. He'd fallen for the same ruse countless times. They weren't going to belong anyone again.
"How much?" He said quietly to Mary, admiring the sheer amount of money he had gotten. Much more than he'd ever been paid, at least.

Maroon had meanwhile exited the room. This newcomer was not comforting him, and he didn’t like all the noise or commotion anyways so he quickly left, before he fell apart completely. He didn’t want to make anyone sick again, not like the last time he’d almost killed a friend or innocent.

"10,000 dollars!" Mary said, proud about the amount she had brought home. "It has been so long sense I've had a client pay me that much. We now have enough to buy a good couch… and ribs. It's been too long sense I've had ribs." She looked up at Gus. The guy looked really nervous, and for some reason, Mary found it hilarious. "Were'd you come from?" she asked him. If she was going to live with him, she needed to know something about his past, if not to get to know him, then to have something about his weaknesses.

Michael sighed and crumpled up the paper, throwing it into the trash.
“….I was too aggressively nice…..he’s gonna think I’m trying to get something out of him…..I do this every goddamn time…..”
He felt himself starting tear up, and quickly attempted to collect himself. He lit a cigarette from his fingertips and opened the window, hoping the smoke wouldn’t go through the entire house.

(And just btw, I think im gon change my bois age to like 16 😪 🤧)
Gus's eyes widened. The most he'd ever been paid for a job was about 500 dollars. He smiled softly at her comments, nodding his head. "yeah I… I haven't had ribs in a while either."
They sighed, barely rocking themselves back and forth while attempting to find an answer to her question.
"I… um… I'm from a lot of different places. B-but I… I grew up in southern California." They said, wrapping the blanket around themselves.

Michael took a long breath from the cigarette, holding the smoke in his mouth for a moment before blowing it out. He knew that smoking was an incredibly unhealthy coping mechanism, but he didn’t want to open up to the kids. He didn’t want to burden them with his thoughts.
I’m the adult, I should have my shit under control by now…

Mary watched Gus for a wile after he had finished talking, jus to make him squirm. Finally she stood up and walked to Michael's room, sticking her head in the door, she asked "Can I take the kid to the store to get some ribs?" She tried to ignore the smoke, but, seeing as the smell was very strong, that was kind of hard.

Gus grew unsettled at the sight of Mary's stare, then debated feeling her blood, shifting her bones, showing her not to do that to him again… but stopped himself before the thoughts could get too far. They simply looked down, pulling their knees to their chest as they watched Mary walk into the other room. He could distantly feel Michael's blood, pounding under his skin, Nervousness. Gus only curled more, thinking what Michael could be nervous about

Michael jumped a little when Mary opened the door, but hoped she didn’t see.
“Yeah, just be back before sundown… you know they monitor the city more closely after dark….”
He turned back around, continuing to smoke. His stress was starting to decline, but it was still very prominent. Michael couldn’t remember the last time he wasn’t nervous.

Gus got up from the couch, the fear of unknowing was killing him. He tentatively made his way to Michael's doorway, peeking in just barely, enough to assess what was happening. The sad song of cigarette smoke hung heavy in the air, slowly drifting out of the window into the cold afternoon, making the feel of Michael's blood a tainted color. Gus grimaced, then attempted to sneak back away unnoticed

Michael felt as if he was being watched, but ignored it. He figured he was just being paranoid. He took another draw from the cigarette, tapping the ashes against the windowsill as he stood there, lost in his thoughts. He really wanted to be a good father figure to these kids, but… he knew how much they’d been through. It was perfectly understandable for them not to trust him, and he didn’t hold it against them. He always blamed it on himself though. I should’ve done this and I shouldn’t have said that were constant words in his head.

"Thanks." Mary said and left. As soon as she was out the door, she coughed a few times to clear the smoke from her lungs, then jumped as she met Gus. She shook off the surprise and smiled. "Come on," She said, "we're going to the store." She walked to the living room, grabbed one of the bills off the table, and waited for him to get ready.

Gus really didn't want to go. Out there was cold, out there was hurt, out there was people. Here felt… some remnant of safe that she wished so badly he could cling to. But, they needed to know everything about the location, everything about this… girl, so sacrificing some time to be exposed and vulnerable would have to do.
He attempted to smooth his unruly, tangled mess of hair, then slipped on a pair of sunglasses he had gotten a few years before. It wasnt normal to have eyes the color of blood. They knew you werent normal. The glasses were normal. They nodded gently once they assumed they were some definition of the word "ready."

Michael extinguished the cigarette on the windowsill, flicking the butt into the trash can. He sat back down at his desk and began drawing again. He wasn’t sure what he was drawing, but it helped.