forum | Lgbtq+ | OPEN

Started May 10, 2018 by @darkeyes

tune

// so I'm finally back and I think I'm going to ADORE Cal

After countless moments sitting around her apartment, not sleeping because of horror movies and serial killers and deep dark voices and a flirty girl standing outside her window, Dev decided to do something. If she wasn't going to sleep tonight, she was going to find something to do. She went back to her window and looked down the street. Where would she even go? It had to be 3 AM at this point.
Then her eyes landed on a bar: Blackout. Dev wasn't a big drinker, and she didn't usually hang out at sleazy bars, but after the way the night has been so far, what else would she do? So she threw on a pair of ripped skinny jeans and a leather jacket over her tank top, said goodbye to her dogs, and headed out the door.

Kaz nodded. "I'm sorry. That was actually really uncalled for. I am apparently physically incapable of not saying the wrong thing today."

“You’re not like this all the time?” Vaughn asked, arching a dark brow in question.

Kaz shook his head. "No, I'm usually a lot better at keeping my mouth shut. It's just been the multiple personality thing acting up, I think."

“Mentally ill?” Vaughn asked. He thought of his Agoraphobia. That was a living hell to live with. Are the whispers causing it, or the other way around?

Kaz laughed awkwardly. "Yeah. Anxiety, depression, PTSD, multiple personality, the works. My family got hit hard by the 'messed up in the head' genes."

Vaughn nodded slowly. He wouldn’t say that he could relate. He wouldn’t give away that he was mentally ill as well. Too risky. “Sounds like hell.”

Kaz shrugged. "Eh. Been living with it most of my life. I thought being numb was the default for everyone until I told my cousin. He forced me to go to the doc, and, well. The rest is history."

“What does not having a soul feel like?” Vaughn asked, crossing his legs so his ankle was touching his knee. Any other way of crossing his legs were uncomfortable, and he tended to get fidgety if he was sitting still for too long.

Kaz shrugged. "I had it at first, for a few years. Then I lost it, till I killed my dad. But it wasn't the best feeling in the world. You kinda go on autopilot, and everything seems dull and pointless. It's basically extreme, untreated depression without the active will to want to die. Not that I didn't try," he said, thinking to the tattooed bands on his wrists that helped hide some of his…nastier scars

“You tried?” Vaughn questioned, watching Kaz with slight difference. He didn’t know that that might be someone touchy to ask about. Something he most likely shouldn’t even bring up. But he was never really taught things like basic interaction skills with anyone outside of family. He had been homeschooled, so his parents and sister were the only people he had real conversations with, so he thought it was complete normal to talk about it with anyone.

"I, um. I didn't quite know what death was when I was younger. I thought, if you hurt yourself enough, you'd get wings and become an angel and you'd get to fly away from all your problems." Kaz rolled up one of his sleeves, showing the four black bands on his left wrist. The skin on the underside was raised in several uniform scars, which were made almost invisible by the ink. "It obviously didn't work, because I'm still stuck here."

Vaughn frowned heavily at the bands and scars. He had an understanding of what death was at a young age. Images of dismembered parts flashing in his mind, but he shoved them away. He had plenty of scars, just not from self harm. Not knowing how to properly deal with someone telling him about that, he reached out and ran his finger tips lightly along the bands.

Kaz gulped around nothing as Vaughn touched the bands, the movement meshing their electrical fields together and sending small waves of electricity up his arm. He didn't dare move, instead watching Vaughn's face, trying to figure out what he was thinking

Vaughn continued to trail his fingers along the scars for a moment longer. They felt deep. Not as deep as a scar from a bullet wound, he had two of those, but decently deep. He failed at ending his life, you should try and do it for him the whispers hissed. He stopped touching and leaned back again.

Kaz almost missed the feeling of Vaughn's touch, and he mentally slapped himself for it. Wow, aren't you a sad, needy little drunk? a small voice in the back of his mind piped up. He ignored it, resolving to grab another beer from the waiter passing by

Vaughn grabbed a bottle from the waiter, popping the cap off and taking a long drink of the liquor. He set the bottle down and looked back at Kaz. “How king has it been since that happened?” He asked.

"Maybe…Two years? Three?" he said, taking a drink of his beer. "I don't know. I'm bad with keeping track of time."

Vaughn hummed in response as he nodded his head. “Doesn’t sound fun,” he simply said, taking another swig of his liquor as he uncrossed his legs

Kaz shrugged. "Well, now that I've had my sob story, I think it's your turn for a little show and tell. Or just tell. Whatever floats your boat," he said, sipping his drink absently

Vaughn nose wrinkled at that. “Rather not,” he said, shaking his head. He didn’t trust Kaz. Whatever Kaz shared with him was his choice, but Vaughn wouldn't go around telling strangers his problems.

"Aww, come on. Just one little fact? Like um…" he trailed off, frowning into his beer while he thought. "Where are you from? 'Vaughn Finley' isn't a very American sounding name, no offense."

“I was born in America, but my parents were Irish,” Vaughn explained, taking a sip of the liquor after speaking. “Luckily didn’t get my mothers red hair, though.” He remember his mother then. Lots of freckles and curly red hair. His sister, Adeline, looked just like their mother. Unfortunately, he looked like an identical, younger image of his father. Just a constant reminder of how he was related to the sickening bastard.

"Irish?" Kaz asked. "That's actually pretty cool. I got to go there once, back when my cousin was still living with his folks. We spent an entire summer in Dublin." He smiled a little at the memory. It was one of the few nice things he had to cling onto when his father was hunting him down

Vaughn nodded slowly. “It sounds nice. I’ve never gotten to go,” he said, shoe tapping on the floor as he glanced around the room, the longer section of of his hair falling into one of his eyes.

"It was. It was nice to get away for once, even if my aunt and uncle were huge dicks the entire time. But hey, my cousin and I had fun." He trailed off a little. "It was actually…It was actually the last thing I got to enjoy before I went soulless."

Vaughn’s fingers tapped on the table as he drank and listened. Kaz was pretty chatty. Better for Vaughn, he wasn’t much of a talker unless he was completely wasted. “Haven’t enjoyed anything since?” He asked, looking at Kaz with that same heavy gaze.

Kaz gulped, the alcohol in his system causing his brain to take Vaughn's words in the complete wrong way for a moment. "N-No, I've enjoyed things since. It's a little difficult, since not having my soul for maybe 10-ish years triggered a lot of my anxiety and depression and stuff, but give me enough alcohol and I'm usually alright," he said, trying to play his brain's slip-up off

“What are you, a wild drunk or something?” Vaughn further questioned, arching a dark brow now as he leaned forward with his elbows against the table top, hands folded.