_{PERILOUSPOTION.}

^{at least she isn’t some fake blonde,  perfume soaked bimbo with some artificial alliterative motive.  ‘ fifteen bucks,  a shower at my place,  & an easy mac dinner. ‘  she drops her shirt,  hands raising,  waiting for an answer before letting them flop down to her sides  ( in the most ungraceful way possible ).  ‘ who can pass up easy mac ? ‘}

_{is she supposed to take it on  faith  that this girl  isn’t  a crazed  psychopath,  or that  accepting  such a generous offer won’t mean tempting fate ?    (    a woman is just as capable as a man.    )    head cants,  gaze narrowing in with  scrutiny.     ❛     fifteen,  'n a big mac from mcdonald’s.    ain’t gonna hang out at someone’s crib i don’t know.    that’s  askin’  for trouble.     ❜}

CATELL 16 FACTOR TEST

_{RULES:  take  this test  for your muse and post the results!
TAGGED:  @adatrox
TAGGING:  anyone,  everyone !}

_{WARMTH.    62%    (  supportive,  comforting  )
INTELLECT.    66%    (  cerebral,  analytical   )
EMOTIONAL STABILITY.    18%    (   irritable,  moody   )
AGGRESSION.    74%    (  controlling,  tough  )
LIVELINESS.    46%    (  somber,  restrained  )
DUTIFULNESS.    26%    (  untraditional,  rebellious  )
SOCIAL ASSERTIVENESS.    26%    (  shy,  withdrawn  )
SENSITIVITY.    54%    (  touchy,  soft  )
PARANOIA.    86%    (  wary,  suspicious  )
ABSTRACTNESS.    46%    (  practical,  regular  )
INTROVERSION.    78%    (  private,  quiet  )
ANXIETY.    62%    (  fearful, self-doubting  )
OPEN - MINDEDNESS.    50%    (  perfect  )
INDEPENDENCE.    66%    (  loner,  craves solitude  )
PERFECTIONISM.    42%    (  disorganized,  messy  )
TENSION.    66%    (  stressed,  unsatisfied  )}

_{ORIGINALGRILLA.}

_{he  did  know.    maybe he wanted to hear it from her.    in some warped,   ass - backwards way,   he’s trying to say  i get it.    trying to say that he’s been there.    getting drunk,   getting high.    just ‘cause i can.    just to feel something else.    or,   ideally,   nothing at all.    it’s the same,   but  not  the same,   because no two experiences are ever identical,   no two people tread matching paths down this ugly road.    she doesn’t know the half of what he’s done,   and he hopes to god    —    or whoever’s listening    —    that she’ll never have to find out.}

_{a scoff as he takes two steps forward,   car keys still in hand.    this is neither the time nor the place.}

_{‘     you the voice of experience now ?    we’re not doin’ this here,   get in the damn car.     ’}

_{digs her  heels  in,  chin up in  defiance,  a rebellious glint behind the eye    (    and you can’t tell by the way she’s holding herself,  shoulders  squared  and jawline taut,  but she’s beginning to feel somewhat  anxious.    )    bullet wants him to get  angry,  to raise his voice and cause a scene so she has another excuse.    the  proximity  isn’t as distanced as it once was.    fists tighten on pure reflex,  but remain in the warm pockets of her coat.}

_{the bill crinkles beneath the movement.    she wishes she’d never  asked  for it.    wishes she hadn’t gone down this road.}

_{❛     or  what ?    you gonna  drag me  into the station again ?     ❜}

_{CRAVESFREEDOM.}

              ^{she’s struck by a feeling that something’s different about her friend, something off ; a dark aura’s settled about her ( not that she believes in that hippie shit. ) but isn’t that what happens to everyone fending for themselves in a DIRTY, messed up world? no one escapes without looking like the weight of the universe itself has crushed their soul. she’s worried there’s more to the story than a bad life wearing at her, but she doesn’t say anything about it, not now. she busies her mind with bullet’s words ; she was WORRIED about her, something that brought a warmth to her core,  ❛   i was basically in lockdown — they took my phone away, had me doing some homeschool shit.   ❜   she drags her teeth over her chapped bottom lip, thinking, before a decisive smile makes its way on her face,   ❛   i think i’ll always pick breakfast.   ❜   she spins on her heel, heading off in the direction that would lead to the nearest greasy diner,   ❛   bullet, i want to pay.   ❜   she isn’t looking at her, eyes on the ground watching herself walk. how many times has bullet had her back when she had nothing? ( whether it was a place to stay, food, money ) — she OWED her.}

_{too much has  happened.    there’s been so much blood and so much  pain,  so much she hasn’t  spoken  about of her own volition,  let alone  acknowledged  with anything other than a swell of  anger.    grateful  that octavia isn’t the  prying  type,  although  part of her  longs to unload.     (     it’s  okay  to be not okay,  fifteen and grieving over too many things all at once.    it’s  okay  to be upset and want to  confide in someone  who might understand instead of forcing yourself open to someone who does nothing but  psychoanalyse  your every word.    )    a scoff parts her lips,  cracked and raw  from the chill and split at the corner,  where she took a hit two days ago.     ❛     fuck ‘em.    you  gotta  keep a low profile for a li’l while,  man.    you know they’ll be  huntin’  your ass down like a freakin’  dog.    i’ll find you a place t’ squat if you need one.     ❜     she remembers being on the run.    her first year on the streets was hell.     ❛     guess i should’a known  that.    yo,  c’mon,  i mean it.    you ain’t gonna have that scratch forever.    don’t  blow  it on some damn eggs ‘n bacon,  you feel me ?     ❜     she falls into step,  a small  quirk  at the edges of her mouth.    money isn’t as much of an issue for bullet as it is for  others,  but she’s always  hesitant  to divulge that,  and  cautious  with who she tells.     ❛     so,  who were the punk - asses that got stuck wit’cho  crazy  ass ?    bible  thumpers ?     ❜}

_{BLOODLETTERED.}

_{she  closes  her  eyes  briefly  as  her  sister  raises  her  voice,         knowing  how  much  it  probably  pains  her  to  speak  that  way.        &      so  badly,      she  wants  to  tell  her  to  stop  AGAIN,        only  to  go  against  her  wishes  to  not  tell  her  what  to  do.         she  can’t  help  it     ;      it’s  in  her  nature  to  be  protective  of  those  close  to  her.          even  if  they  hadn’t  been  close  in  YEARS  ——   rachel  was  the  most  important  person  to  her.          she  wants  her  to  be  BETTER       (     she  needs  it    ).         she  looks  back  at  her,       scoffing  at  her   attempt      &      keeping  the  cigarette  away  from  her.         she  wasn’t  going  to  let  her  continue,        not  when  she  is  like  this.        ❛    do  you  really  think  that’s  what  this  is  about?       i  don’t  care  that  you’re  in  my  room   —–     ❜          though  part  of  her  did  wonder  why,        but  she  isn’t  mad.        she  finds  it  strangely  endearing  that  she’s  here.         ❛       why  are  you  always  doing  this?     why  are  you  constantly  trying  to  risk  your  life?          it  can’t  be  fun  to  be  this  reckless  all   the  time,         is  it?     ❜}

_{she  isn’t.    despite what everyone else might believe.    all those  preconceived notions  about living on the streets,  what it  does  to a person     –––––     they’re all true.    the past  three years  have taught her a lot about taking  risks,  and there’s a sick  irony  here that she feels the need to  point out.    audrey doesn’t have a leg to  stand on.    she tries to imagine a world where the roles were  reversed.    where  her  friends were the ones being terrorised and  slaughtered.    waking up,  fearing what the day will bring.    wondering who’s going to die  next.    tries putting herself in audrey’s shoes,  the minute that trunk  unlatched  and she found her sister laying there,  still as a corpse,  blood  soaking through into the upholstery.    it’s a gut - wrenching thought.    maybe,  in this parallel universe,  bullet would be going to the  ends of the earth  to  protect  her.    (    as if she isn’t doing so already.    it’s the  only reason  she hasn’t left home and found her way back to skid row,  slit throat or no slit throat.    audrey’s  worried  about her,  and all the while she can’t help but think that she’s the one who needs protecting.    the killer  didn’t just attack bullet.    he attacked audrey  through  bullet,  deliberately,  to taunt her.     )     she looks up.    doesn’t quite know  how  to respond without dishing out  sarcasm.     ❛     the hell would  you  know about havin’  fun ?    you’re so goddamn stressed out,  your hair’s turnin’  silver.    you ever quit worryin’ about  other people  ‘n start worryin’ ‘bout yourself for a change ?     ❜}

_{ORIGINALGRILLA.}

_{‘     yeah,   i  was,   ‘cause i don’t like you  lyin’  to me.    if you’re gonna be drinkin’ my paycheck,   at least be straight up about it.   own your shit.     ’       it’s blunt,   and there’s an edge to it,   but he’s quick to dial back into something more neutral.    he isn’t  angry    —    not at her.    not for the reasons you’d think.    she was dealt a fucked - up hand and she’s trying to cope in the best way she knows how.    nobody said he had to like it.       ‘     just make sure t’ keep me in the loop,   alright ?    don’t be chasin’ down  leads  ‘n shit by yourself.    if somethin’ don’t feel right,   you back off and let me do my job.     ’}

_{❛     fine.    you  really  wanna know ?     ❜}

_{you can  smell it  on her,  soured from the rain.    malt liquor and a whiskey chaser that didn’t burn quite as bad as she anticipated.    she was  used  to it.    swallowing the truth,  bitter pill after bitter pill,  has that effect.    or maybe the  dope  she smoked just made it  seem  that way.}

_{❛     i’m jus’ doin’ the same messed up crap you did.    been gettin’ drunk.    gettin’ high,  just ‘cause i can.    it ain’t like there’s anything  better  t’ do.     ❜}

_{voiced casual,  as though they were talking about something as  menial  as the weather,  but with disparaging and spiteful undertones typical of a  fifteen year old girl  who feels as though he’s casting too much judgement.    she doesn’t care who’s around to hear it.}

_{ORIGINALGRILLA.}

_{‘     —    so it’s like  that.     ’       if she’s angling for a distraction,   he can commiserate ;   but this can’t be the right way to go about it.    she’s only been out of the hospital a few weeks.    shouldn’t even be on the  streets,   let alone working cases.    it’s another of those situations,   like the drinking,   like the  drugs,   that he has no control over :   when she wants to do something,   she’ll do it whether he gives her the green light or not.       ‘     ain’t  about  trust.    look,   you wanna call in a favor ?   fine.    but that’s  it,   y’ hear ?    don’t even  breathe  on this case unless it goes through me first.     ’}

_{❛     yup.     ❜     it’s like  that,  because she’s grown tired of catering to what  others  think she needs versus what she thinks she needs,  which is nothing if not  purpose.    a will to keep herself afloat.    one that she’ll  find  anywhere she can.    she wants to  help.    not herself,  but those she cares about.    it’s all she’s  ever  wanted to do.    she lifts a hand to brush beneath her nose,  drawing in a breath and casting a sidelong glance before looking back.     ❛     it ain’t about  trust,  but you were just givin’ me the  third degree  over some scratch ?    whatever,  yo.    ain’t gonna dick around on yo’ case ‘n  fuck it up.    scout’s honour.     ❜}

_{PERILOUSPOTION.}

^{‘ eighteen. ‘  she quickly corrects,  eyes darting down to her bare middle.  ‘ my shit ?  it’s just my stomach. ‘  & to prove her point,  she keeps the shirt raised, a clear act of defiance. she refuses to back down.  ‘ if you don’t want to do it,  that’s fine.  i’ll go get it pierced at some shop that charges way too much & requires a fucking birth certificate.  or .. you could stop treating me like a high school prostitute & help me out.  your pick.  but just so you know ..  i prefer the latter. ‘}

_{❛     oh,  much better.     ❜     sarcasm coats the tongue,  laid on  thick  as arms fold over her chest.    doesn’t need to ask if the girl has always been this  forward  because she knows the type  too  well.    actively avoids even catching a glimpse of skin,  gaze narrowed in elsewhere.    sea level,  eye to eye    (    because if she doesn’t  see it,  she doesn’t run the risk of embarrassment.    )     ❛     all they’re gonna ask for is your  driver’s license,  yo.    but that’s your call t’ make.    you really gonna let a  dirty - ass  kid stick a needle in you ?     ❜     as if to drive her point home,  she unfolds her arms to present the  dirt and grime  beneath her fingernails,  encrusted around cuticles.    her hands are bruised,  unclean.    a result of living on the streets.}

_{CRAVESFREEDOM.}

                  ^{she figures there’s no better place to wait for bullet than the overpass, if she was certain to show up anywhere, it was here. It took a few hours of waiting & patience ( which she doesn’t have much of, but the cheap pacman knock-off on her burner phone kept her entertained. ) when bullet enters her field of vision, she’s easy to spot, her short stature a dead giveaway.  ❛  hey!  ❜  she calls out, waiting until the girl notices her before approaching,  ❛  i’m back. — & i think it’s actually for good this time.  ❜  it’s not the first time she’s made such a claim only to be picked up and returned to her foster home ; she struggles to blend into the shadows of the city streets. ❛   — you HUNGRY?  ❜ her hand dives into her jacket pocket to retrieve a small wad of cash, discretely flashing the bills her way before tucking the money back into the safety of her coat.  ❛  my treat.  ❜  ( @junkyardteen )}

_{she hadn’t stopped  moving  since her feet touched ground this morning.    hadn’t intended to.    hadn’t  wanted to  until she reached the bridge,  where she could look out over the water and imagine kallie somewhere close by.    (    picture this.    an  impossible distance  lies between you and your best friend,  but there is  comfort  in knowing she counts the same stars,  wherever she is,  and that the water that flows in the rivers of seattle,  smooth like glass on this bitter morning,  will find her eventually.    )    intercepted at the overpass only two blocks from her destination,  she’s met with a familiar face.    one she hasn’t seen in  weeks,  and that alone is enough to lift her spirits.     ❛     yo,  what the hell,  o !    why didn’t you text me ?    thought they’d locked your ass  down  or somethin’.    had me all worried about’cha ‘n shit.     ❜     glimpses the fold of cash,  what looked like a hell of a lot more than pulling a date would get her.    almost feels  relieved.     ❛     hell yeah,  man.    i’m starvin’.    but you ain’t gotta  pay for me,  a’ight ?    save it,  ‘cause you’ll need it.    trust me.    you feelin’ breakfast,  or lunch ?     ❜}