[Katrina Wells]

You romanticize the feast and famine

Paralyzed by fear of failing

Katrina didn't spend too much time at bars. Usually she liked to perform at the cafe or just on the corner somewhere. But sometimes she could convince bar owners to let her perform outside the building. Or, if she was even more lucky, inside. She wasn't old enough to drink, not that she'd want to, so normally she stayed outside. But she'd gotten pretty close with the owners and staff here. At least they liked her music, or the people she attracted, or the fact that she gave them a cut of whatever she made playing. Or maybe all three. Didn't really matter. What mattered is she got nice cold water, some fries, and was allowed to play.

It was a normal Sunday crowd. Not a ton of people came in on Sundays which was normally when she would play. Mostly because it attracted a few more customers who liked the idea of a drink and some live music before they had to go back into work for the week. There was a little spot between the door and the bar that Katrina set up for herself. Her guitar case out and opened in front of her. A mic set up with a little speaker next to her to provide a bit more sound. There were a few people coming in to sit down. The sound of talking, glasses clinking softly, and some laughter from a few tables. That was the part that Katrina liked. Not so much the smell of the alcohol but that usually went away once she was inside for a bit.

Once she made sure everything was ready to go Katrina adjusted the height of her little mic stand before she went into her first song. Unlike when she played at the cafe the notes were sharper, almost more angry. Her voice was lower, a little rougher.

"Two black Cadillacs driving in a slow parade.
Headlights shining bright in the middle of the day.
One is for his wife.
The other for the woman who loved him at night.
Two black Cadillacs meeting for the first time."

Some of the talking paused as Katrina started to sing. Their eyes turned to her as even those who were still talking amongst themselves quieted a bit.

Tag: Dane Wayland
I know you don't know me but 2.0! lol let me know if I need to add or tweak anything for this!

MADE BY NIGHTBLOOM

[Dane Wayland]

[nospaces]

LYING FACE DOWN IN THE GUTTER

of unaccomplished dreams; don't wait for me

[break]

[attr="class","lizardstripe-text"]Dane didn't care for Pat's Bar. It was respectable and less rowdy than most other clubs and bars around. The liquor selection was expansive, the service top-notch, and there were a couple of cute waitresses; but outweighing all of that, the lead bartender had an uncanny way of spying trouble as it brewed and firmly nipping things in the bud before they could get too fun. When he'd first come to Los Eurosia, he'd tested the place frequently. But after being cut off a number of times (and thrown out a number more), he'd quickly concluded it just wasn't his scene. [break][break]

Now, as he dipped through the entrance, he could only hope his nearly year-long snub of the place was enough for John — or was it Frank? Jim? — to forget his face. He stepped toward the bar, perfectly aware of the woman set up and already singing between it and the door. He hadn't wanted to arrive too early and beat her there. Hadn't wanted to seem too eager. He was working with a reputation, after all, and he intended to see how far he could stretch it tonight. He didn't even glance in her direction, only moseyed himself into a stool a safe distance away. [break][break]

Once he'd settled, he finally raised his eyes to appraise the woman with the guitar, singing something broody and dark in low tones. He only had to study her for but a moment, before he decided he'd been duped. What was she, seventeen? Eighteen? Certainly not old enough to drink. What the fuck — why hadn't she said anything? In fact, why was she playing in bars and texting strangers at all? Dane lifted a hand to stifle a scoff into his open palm, smoothing it across his mouth and then cradling his jaw upon tapping fingers. [break][break]

"What are you drinking?" [break][break]

Dane dropped the hand to drum his fingers on the bar top thoughtfully, eye dragging from the performer to the man standing expectantly before him. "By chance, is there anyone else performing tonight?" He asked hopefully, already knowing the answer. With a quirked brow, the bartender shook his head. Not bothering to hide his disappointment, Dane 'tsk'ed and rolled his eyes. "Blue Moon, in the bottle." He was already pulling the phone from his pocket before the man could move away. [break][break]

He scrolled through the performer's messages with a scowl, spying all the potential places where she might have offered that she wasn't old enough to drink, let alone tow thirsting men into bar bathrooms. If the woman (women?) who'd scrawled his name and number on stall walls weren't evidence enough of his shallow-sighted intentions, he felt he'd hinted at them clearly enough in his replies. [break][break]

He shot off a few messages in quick succession then pocketed his phone just as his beer was placed before him. No longer interested in the singer or her music, he cast a subtle glance around the rest of the bar, hoping to find some clue as to whether or not he might be able to salvage the night. Preferably with some suitable woman seated alone, looking pensive and in need of cheering up. But, if no luck, he'd settle for someone bigger and meaner, looking surly enough to prod into a brawl. [break][break]

But everyone looked boring. What one might expect from a Sunday crowd. Most of them were listening respectfully to the girl's playing. And the few waitresses he could see weren't as pretty as the ones he remembered. Either the ones he knew had moved on or he'd been drunker. Sucking at his teeth, Dane motioned for the bartender and pulled out his wallet to pay for the beer. There was no point in starting a tab, he figured. He'd finish his bottle and move on to somewhere more promising. Hell, maybe he'd just go home instead.





[break]

you've got a lot to do, you've got a lot to be [break]
and in the end, maybe i'll see you there

Tag: Katrina Wells[break]
Give me a nudge for any changes!

[newclass=.lizardstripe-text b]color:#1F2F22;font-size:8pt;font-family:Open Sans, sans serif;[/newclass]

[googlefont=Poppins][googlefont=Open Sans]

[Katrina Wells]

You romanticize the feast and famine

Paralyzed by fear of failing

She felt her phone buzz in her pocket but didn't let it distract her from her singing. Her fingers plucked over the strings easily as she sang. It was at least quieter than a few places she'd been to. Katrina had sang at a bar in East End a couple of weeks ago that had been...less than pleasant. Luckily the bartender stepped in when he did. Katrina would probably still play there again. She'd even told the bartender that she'd think about coming back out to play when he'd asked about it.

"Yeah, they took turns laying a rose down.
Threw a handful of dirt into the deep ground.
He's not the only one who had a secret to hide.
Bye bye, bye bye, bye bye!"

As the songs tempo picked up she projected more of her voice. More customers began moving in to drink and listen to the live music. There was a bit more chatter now as seats began to fill more. As the song came to a finish there was a wave of cheers through the bar that made Katrina's face light up. No matter how often she performed there seemed to always be that warm sort of giddy feeling she got in her chest and stomach when people applauded. That they'd listened and enjoyed her singing. "Thank you," she said into the mic with a small giggle. Before she pulled out her phone to finally look at the texts.

A fetus? Sure she was young but she wasn't a child. Besides he hadn't exactly asked Katrina her age so it hadn't really seemed that important. Though, perhaps he made some assumptions about her age because she said she was in a bar bathroom. But why did it matter? He'd just been coming to watch her sing right? Well, at least he was nice about blocking her. Though that still stung a little bit the feeling quickly washed away as she held her guitar again. "Play Wonderwall!" Some man by the bar yelled. There was always one. There were a few groans at the suggestion as well as a few laughs. Katrina even giggled a bit until another, more slurred voice spoke up. "Take your top off!"

That made the smile quickly drop from her face as her brows knit together and her hand gripped the neck of her guitar a little harder. "Watch it!" The bartender growled at him. Katrina swallowed a hard lump in her throat and forced a smile again as she tucked some of her long brown hair behind her ear. "Uh, anyway, here's Wonderwall," she said playfully as she began the rift for Good Riddance.

Tag: Dane Wayland
Let me know if I need to add or tweak anything for this! Or if we wanna figure out someone for Dane to punch lol

MADE BY NIGHTBLOOM

[Dane Wayland]

[nospaces]

LYING FACE DOWN IN THE GUTTER

of unaccomplished dreams; don't wait for me

[break]

[attr="class","lizardstripe-text"]The woman's playing continued to pick up, growing louder and more spirited before crescendoing to an eventual end. Everyone cheered and applauded and Dane cast his gaze about to observe their fascination. She giggled and offered her thanks and he returned his gaze to her, eyes immediately gleaming when he watched her take out her phone and (presumably) read through his texts. She didn't seem bothered as she put it away and continued to laugh and grin at the audience tossing jokes.[break][break]

Then, from further down the bar, a man yelled for her to take her top off. [break][break]

Even from his seat across the room, Dane could see her answering discomfort. Her smile faltered and her brow twitched. He didn't miss the way her hand wrung the neck of her guitar or the hard bob to her throat. But she recovered quickly, leaning into her mic to joke before she launched into another song. As the guitar's renewed twang filled the bar and people resumed their chatting and drinking, Dane leaned forward and turned his head to seek the man who had called out. The bartender was leaning across the counter, whispering something (likely a warning) close to his ear, but the man only pulled violently away and waved him off. He was a big guy. Very drunk and already annoyed. [break][break]

He could probably work with that. It wouldn't be much of a fight since the guy was already sloshed but he was sure, going off the size of his arms, he packed a particularly-devastating blow. Hits that would rock. And, already irritable and touchy, it likely wouldn't take much for Dane to earn them.[break][break]

"Wrong bar, bud!" Dane called out to cheerily, flashing his teeth in a quick, faux-friendly smile when the dude looked his way with only a dark, dismissive glance. Chuckling, he pulled the phone from his pocket, found and sent the performer a fitting GIF in their messages, then grabbed his beer and slipped from his bar stool to move closer. He plopped himself in the vacant seat next to the bigger man; facing the rest of the room casually with his back touching the bar, his elbows propped behind him, and his knees spread wide. After a moment of pretending to survey the room, he rolled his head on his shoulders in the man's direction.[break][break]

"What are you drinking?" He asked in an amicable tone, glancing at the many empty shot glosses piled in front of him. His gaze skipped to the bartender and he pointed to the mess and held up all five fingers; ordering another handful of whatever it was without waiting for an answer. With a growl, the dude drug his bleary gaze to him, gave him a quick once-over, then snorted. "M'no inneres'ed in.." he hiccupped thickly, sounding dangerously close to needing a toilet, "... no dudes." [break][break]

Dane laughed and smacked the man on the back, inwardly purring at the (very delayed) grunt of irritated disapproval it earned. "I wasn't offering." The shots were set before him and he swiveled around in his seat to appraise them with full attention, quickly smacking at the man's hand when he reached for the one closest to him. Tutting, Dane proceeded to take all five shots himself, tossing back one right after the other and setting them down with a satisfied smack each time. Dude watched him steadily, unflinching, and when the last shot was swallowed, he blew a hard breath through his nose and turned away with a dark mutter. "Prick". [break][break]

Dane's smile tucked smugly, then disappeared completely as the dude smacked his lips and began to heave. The bartender's gaze snapped toward them but Dane was quicker, hand skipping to the bucket half-full of peanuts on the bartop on his other side. Upending the peanuts across the bar, he shoved the bucket into the man's chest just in time. Loudly and without grace, the man emptied his stomach and Dane leaned a bit away with a quirk to his lips. Maybe he was too far gone after all. [break][break]

"Okay, you're out." The bartender said sternly (and more than a bit disgusted) once the man was finished. His gaze drug from the spitting drunk and then to Dane, who lifted his brow as he realized he was talking to them both. He stifled the urge to scoff and claim he hadn't done anything and had just gotten there — and to perhaps demand some thanks for saving the bar floor from needing a thorough mop — but after a moment, he rolled his eyes. "Fine, I'll see big-boy out." As if on cue, the man slipped from his chair and to the floor and Dane smiled at the exasperation that cut cleanly across the bartender's face. He tossed some money on the counter, slipped from his stool, and bent down to tap at his new friend's face. "Come on, fella. Let's get you in an Uber." [break][break]

He heaved the man to his feet and then threw one of his arms across his shoulders before supporting him in a difficult, burdened stride toward the exit. As they passed the performer, his new, drunken friend rolled his head on his shoulders in her direction and blinked hard to clear the haze from his eyes. "Come on baby," his brow knit and he hiccupped, then smacked his lips before starting again, louder and more forceful, "Just show us your ti—" Dane clapped his hand across the man's mouth, laughing loud, and tossed the woman a cheeky grin. "Men, amirite? We're all such dogs." With a parting wink, he shrugged the man from where he was slipping down (trying, it seemed, to pull Dane to the floor with him), and managed to get his feet under him long enough to finish stumbling the both of them toward the bar's doors.




[break]

you've got a lot to do, you've got a lot to be [break]
and in the end, maybe i'll see you there

Tag: Katrina Wells [break]
Give me a nudge for any changes! It's safe to assume these two are just going down the street to duke it out lolol. If you want me to go ahead and add that to this post just lemme know, I was just afraid of going on too long without giving you a chance to respond~

[newclass=.lizardstripe-text b]color:#1F2F22;font-size:8pt;font-family:Open Sans, sans serif;[/newclass]

[googlefont=Poppins][googlefont=Open Sans]

[Katrina Wells]

You romanticize the feast and famine

Paralyzed by fear of failing

It wasn't the first time someone had accosted her about wanting to see her naked. It normally happened when she played at bars but it often also happed when she would be playing on the street. There were sometimes people who would ask her if there was other things she could do with her mouth for some cash. Which Katrina didn't fully understand the implication of but she knew she didn't like it. Nor did she like the ones who would attempt to reach out and touch her or her guitar. Luckily at Pats bar the people weren't as rowdy and even the ones that were the staff tended to take care of so they didn't bother her. Which gave her space to sing.

She felt her phone buzz in her pocket as she began singing the admittedly softer song. It wasn't as passionate as the one she'd been singing before but it also wasn't as long. And had just been the first one she thought of to clear the tension. Still, she wasn't bothered with checking it at the moment to see who it was. She also wasn't entirely paying attention to what was happening on the other side of the bar. But even she could hear the unpleasant retching of someone in the back as they vomited. The sound made Katrina stumble in the playing momentarily but she fluidly picked it back up with barely a half beat missed.

"It's something unpredictable
But in the end, it's right
I hope you had the time of your life"

As the song came to an end she smiled again as some applause broke through. Only to have a very large stranger stumble towards her. Katrina backed away a step with her grip tight on the neck of her guitar. Her body tensed as a heavy gust of wind picked up outside. Blowing against the windows and door as if trying to break through and blow the man away. "No thank you," she insisted before the other man clapped his hand over the larger ones mouth. As the two stumbled out one of the servers came up behind Katrina and put a hand on her shoulder which nearly made her jump out of her skin. "You okay, honey?" The woman asked as Katrina's heart felt like it was going to leap through her throat and out her mouth. "Yeah, yeah I'm okay," she said with a not entirely convincing smile.

The wind still swirled heavily outside as she took a few deep breaths to steady herself again. It was okay. It was just one weird guy. There were lots of weird guys around. She pulled out her phone to check who had texted her only to giggle at the GIF that was sent to her.

I thought you blocked me for being a fetus?
Which I'm not by the way

She sent the text before she rolled her shoulders and returned to the mic for another song. Katrina played for another few songs but as it started getting late she still couldn't fully shake that guy that had stumbled out of the bar. Or the man that had been with him. "Alright, that's it for tonight everyone! It was wonderful playing for you I hope to see you again soon!" She called sweetly before she began packing up. Some people had in fact put some tips in her guitar case. Which she gave a portion of to the bar before she grabbed her things and walked out.

Katrina had parked a bit farther down than normal but she didn't mind the walk. She had her guitar case strapped to her back as she walked. Thankful the wind had died down by now. Katrina wasn't feeling as shaken up as she had been but she figured it would be okay to call it a day a little early. As she walked though she came across an alley with what looked like someones slumped over silhouette in the dim lighting. "Hello?" She called out as she pulled out her phone to use it as a flash light.

Tag: Dane Wayland
No worries! I'm good with adding it wherever lol let me know if you need me to change or tweak anything though! Sorry this post was kind of a mess

MADE BY NIGHTBLOOM

[Dane Wayland]

[nospaces]

LYING FACE DOWN IN THE GUTTER

of unaccomplished dreams; don't wait for me

[break]

[attr="class","lizardstripe-text"]As predicted, it had been a simple and quick thing to get the drunk man riled to violence after leaving the bar. And, safe from the eyes of anyone else, Dane had hardly hesitated in laying the antagonism on thick. They stumbled down the sidewalk and he started in on some jeers and insults about the state of him. It earned some heated grumbles. He suggested they go to a strip club (since the man was obviously in a flesh-seeing mood), then shook his head and lamented that no one would let his ugly, stinking mug close to a woman. That had earned a laugh instead — not intended. Finally, Dane broke out the big guns and started on the gay jokes as he poked both of them down an alleyway. Suggestions and provocations about all the fun they could get up to instead. [break][break]

That had worked like a charm. Dude didn't care for the imaginings at all.[break][break]

The first swing quickly affirmed what Dane had excitedly expected — the man had a devastating fist. He laughed and smiled, ears ringing from the blow, then continued on with the jeers; earning a couple more strikes that he took like a champ. After a continued exchange of homophobic slurs and goading chants, the guy had Dane on the ground, wailing on his face and his body with depleting energy. Finally, Dane didn't have it in him to smile or laugh anymore and could only lay there and Dude fell off him, confused by the lack of fight and no longer having the strength to keep up the assault. [break][break]

"Thanks, man," Dane groaned, pulling himself to a sitting and scooching back to prop himself against the trash piled against the building. He counted the aches across his body, lingering indulgently on the dull throb of his ribs and the sharper sting that was his split lip and swelling face. Blood pounded in his head, dribbled from his nose, and he could taste its metallic tang on his tongue and the back of his throat. "I needed that."[break][break]

Dude fell on his ass next to him, breathing hard from the wholly one-sided exertion. He glanced at Dane, face twisting with clear, drunken bewilderment. "You're a fucking freak, guy." Dane laughed, the chimes quickly turning to a thick, pained cough, and waved a hand through the air. "Want me to call you a cab?"[break][break]

Dude didn't answer, just probed his bleary gaze about his ruined face, shook his head, and pulled himself to his feet to stumble off. "See ya around," Dane called after him, before letting his head fall back to thunk against the building behind him. He closed his eyes and let the pain lull him. Hummed at the feel of blood slipping from his chin and soaking the front of his shirt. At the faint protest that each breath earned from his aching sides. It was just as good as finding a woman to spend the night with. [break][break]

He wasn't totally sure how much time had passed when a voice called out to him. He blinked open one eye — finding the other had swelled shut — and turned to face it. Then winced and lifted a hand to shield himself from the light that suddenly shined in his direction. He squinted and blinked his eye frantically to adjust, then recognized it was the performer — guitar case strapped to her back.[break][break]

"Hey, it's you..." Dane breathed a soft and amused laugh, lips parting in a quick smile; teeth shining pink with bloody spittle. Then he 'tsk'ed, mouth pursing into a smirk. "How come I'm not surprised you'd also approach bleeding dudes in shady alleys? Babydoll," he shook his head, just barely, more amused than truly chiding. "You really gotta work on your judgment."




[break]

you've got a lot to do, you've got a lot to be [break]
and in the end, maybe i'll see you there

Tag: Katrina Wells [break]
Give me a nudge for any changes!

[newclass=.lizardstripe-text b]color:#1F2F22;font-size:8pt;font-family:Open Sans, sans serif;[/newclass]

[googlefont=Poppins][googlefont=Open Sans]

[Katrina Wells]

You romanticize the feast and famine

Paralyzed by fear of failing

As she got a closer look at his face with the light of her phones flashlight Katrina stopped in her tracks. Just a foot away from him as her breath caught in her throat. Again the wind picked up, though not as hard as it had before. It swirled around and past her. Through the alley way with a hollow, soft howling sound as it moved. Flicking her long, dark hair into her face which helped pull her a bit from her shock. At least enough to move over and crouch next to him. "Oh my god!" She exclaimed once her mouth remembered how to form words again.

She barely registered what he said as she tried to use the light from her flashlight to assess just how badly he was hurt. The guitar case on her back made moving while crouched a bit awkward as the bottom of it bumped against the ground. "My name is Katrina, not Babydoll," she said as she attempted to gently grab his chin just to get a better look at his face. It looked like he got hit by a train. Did the man he stumbled out with do this? "Are you Darren?" That had been the name that was written on the bathroom wall.

"Do we need to call you an ambulance?" Katrina felt like she should but she also recognized not everyone could afford that kind of luxury. Ambulance rides weren't cheap and neither were hospital bills. But she was in school to be a trauma nurse. She could handle the situation right? "Can you stand up?" She asked, her voice still honey sweet and calm even as her heart felt like it was about to beat out of her chest. The wind still rushed around them and kept annoyingly messing her hair. She'd be able to assess him better at her car. "Come on," she encouraged as she grabbed his hands to help haul him to his feet as gently as she could.

Katrina wasn't a large girl and he was easily almost a foot taller than her. But She'd been trained on how to move with people bigger than her. So she wrapped one arm around his waist and encouraged him to keep his weight on her. "I'm parked not far down," she told him as she helped move him to her car. His eye was swollen shut, she wasn't even sure how well he could see out of the open one. His face was bruised and swollen and busted and covered in blood. There was blood soaked into his shirt as well and she wasn't sure what else could have been wrong with him.

Once they got to her car she opened the back door of the purple mazda and eased him into the back. She unclipped her guitar from her body and placed it in the trunk where she also grabbed her first aid kit and returned to the back seat. Under the street lights she also turned on the lights in the car ceiling to get a clearer look at him. "How's your head feel? Are you hurt anywhere else?" There was always a different sort of confidence that took over Katrina when she helped someone who was hurt. Her panic could be contained inward. Put in a neat little box for her to shake and tremble and cry later.

All so she could take care of who needed her help in the moment. She pulled out sanitizing wipes and some gloves. She pulled on the gloves and used the cool, damp wipes to wipe the blood from his face.

Tag: Dane Wayland
Sorry this got kind of long winded lol if you need me to change anything or tweak it at all let me know! Figured this would be the best point to getting Katrina to drive him home lol

MADE BY NIGHTBLOOM

[Dane Wayland]

[nospaces]

LYING FACE DOWN IN THE GUTTER

of unaccomplished dreams; don't wait for me

[break]

[attr="class","lizardstripe-text"]The performer looked down at him and exclaimed. Almost as if in answer, wind howled through the alley, scattering dust and debris down the uneven pavement. Dane squinted his one good eye against the gale, feeling it patter grit against his face and pull at his hair and clothes. "Gusty," he muttered, giving a tiny cough and poking out his tongue as she crouched beside him, looking far more horrified by the look of him than he deserved. Her fingers found his chin and she asserted her name wasn't Babydoll, forcing the smirk once more over his mouth as she tipped his face beneath her inspection. He nodded when she asked if he was Darren — he supposed he was — and then let his lips part around a thick, slightly-gurgling chuckle as she asked about an ambulance. [break][break]

"No," even as she answered, she snuck her hands into his and pulled him to his feet, earning a groan and a wince. Immediately following the moaning, he chuckled again, pleased with the dull ache. "This really isn't necessary," he protested with an amused breath through his nose (sounding more like a faint whistle through the clotting blood in his nostrils). "This... this'll all be nothing but ugly bruises by Monday, I'm fine." Still, he let her wrap an arm around his waist and lead him away. Too stupid, beaten, and feeling the earlier shots seep languidly through his blood, to put up much resistance. [break][break]

They walked a little ways, Dane using all of his focus not to trip her up or pull her down as he put one stumbling step in front of the other. When they came to a car and she nudged him to sit in the backseat, feet still on the ground through the open door, he settled with an 'oof' and dropped his hands to his laps. She disappeared and he considered falling back to lounge across the whole backseat. To curl up, go to sleep, and wake wherever he woke. But only a few moments later, Katrina returned, having traded her guitar case for a first aid kit. She leaned across him to flick on the car's courtesy light then asked how his head felt and whether or not he was hurt anywhere else. [break][break]

"Swimmy and thick," he answered. "Like my skull's too small for my eyes and my blood's too hot." A soft grin pulled across his mouth. It hurt, of course, but it was a pain he'd purposely sought. A familiar and desirable ache. It would help him sleep well tonight. "But I'm good. Great, even. [break][break]

She bent forward to appraise him again, pulling on a pair of gloves and wiping at the blood on his face. His eyes fluttered close. Everything was tender, but her touch was tender, too. After a moment, he cracked his eyes open just barely to gaze at her through his lashes, her face steeled with concentration. It seemed like she'd done this before and was working with knowledgeable, well-composed ease. Was she pre-med? That would mean he'd been wrong about her age. [break][break]

"Mm," Dane murmured, the brow above his good eye quirking as her fingers moved to the outer corner of his other eye, where Dude's fist had split the skin across his cheekbone. "Again, this really isn't necessary." He lifted a hand to curl his fingers about her wrist in a loose grip that wasn't intended to be firm enough to still her ministrations. "Sorry I dipped on your show. The playing was good but," he shrugged. "Not my kinda scene."




[break]

you've got a lot to do, you've got a lot to be [break]
and in the end, maybe i'll see you there

Tag: Katrina Wells [break]
Give me a nudge for any changes! [break]
Or if you need more to work with!

[newclass=.lizardstripe-text b]color:#1F2F22;font-size:8pt;font-family:Open Sans, sans serif;[/newclass]

[googlefont=Poppins][googlefont=Open Sans]

[Katrina Wells]

You romanticize the feast and famine

Paralyzed by fear of failing

Him not wanting an ambulance wasn't unheard of. She'd kind of expected it really with the way he smiled at her when he was clearly injured badly. Was this normal for him? Did he just purposefully go around picking fights to get beat up? What would be the purpose in that? Maybe he was also just drunk. From her understanding if someone got drunk enough they usually just didn't care about how hurt they were. That was a good possibility.

"It is necessary," she insisted firmly. "Your eye is swollen shut, you likely have a concussion, and I'm pretty sure your face wasn't this size earlier," though she was trying to sound firm and authoritative her tone was still gentle and honey sweet. Him claiming to be great was the first thing that made her pause and give him a curious and concerned look. "You definitely have a concussion," she murmured as she put the now soiled wipe in a plastic bag to toss away later.

As he apologized for missing her performance she removed her gloves with a small smile. "Well, you can make it up to me by letting me get you home safe," she said as she placed the gloves in the bag with the wipe. "I can't just leave you passed out in the alley to get mugged," or worse. "What's your address?"

Should she be driving some strange man she picked up in a dark alley back to his home? No, probably not. But she couldn't in all good conscious leave him hurt and blacked out on the side walk. Besides, that eye needed to be taken care of and she needed to make sure he didn't fall asleep for at least a few hours if he did have a concussion.

Tag: Dane Wayland
Let me know if you need me to change anything or tweak it at all!

MADE BY NIGHTBLOOM

[Dane Wayland]

[nospaces]

LYING FACE DOWN IN THE GUTTER

of unaccomplished dreams; don't wait for me

[break]

[attr="class","lizardstripe-text"](CW: Could be uncomfy) [break][break]

She continued to make her insistence in a too-sweet voice; tone effortlessly gentle even as she tried to sound unyielding. Her adamant concern and "firm" doting was just adorable. Like a kitten trying to scowl. Then, when she smiled and asked that he let her take him home, Dane fought the urge to groan amusedly. It was too much. She was too nice. And it would have been so easy. So cliché. For her to walk him to his door, tuck him into bed, and then be so generously understanding when he reached for her as she walked away. It would almost be too easy. As if he'd started the losing fight with such an intention in mind.[break][break]

"You most certainly can leave me in an alley to get mugged," he snorted after a moment, squinting at her curiously. "That'd be the smartest thing to do."[break][break]

He suspected he'd been wrong about her age. She wasn't so much a fetus as he'd initially gauged. But still, she was decidedly too young. Perhaps not in years itself, but he could see it more so in her face. In her big, dark eyes. In the honey of her voice and in the tenderness of her hands. It all suggested a youthful, innocent inexperience that he wouldn't enjoy spoiling (and that she likely wouldn't either). It was easier to imagine her with her face tipped to sunlight, smiling wide with a similarly-youthful, giggling boy pressing a matching grin into her shoulder blades. Not chewing a pouty lip and staring up through her lashes as she tugged hungrier men closer by the belt, undoing buckles and untucking clothes. She wouldn't know where she even wanted his hands to be. Wouldn't know what to demand of him. She wasn't yet broken in and Dane wasn't the one for such tasks. He preferred his women dauntless. To have already unlearned all the cute, wide-eyed shyness that accompanied adolescence. Women that wouldn't flinch when he asked for their teeth nor hesitate to bargain for what they wanted in return.[break][break]

No, there was zero merit to entertaining the idea. Even if he hadn't already given up on it in the first place. It would take time — probably heartache, too — to become someone suited for his bed. Much better for someone to truly love her first. Treat her kindly. Gentle. Show her what it felt like to be cherished, soft and fondly, so she could decide for herself whether that was satisfying enough. [break][break]

But the thought that she was so... readily... setting herself up like this — texting him, pulling him from the refuse, and offering to drive him home — it was growing gradually less amusing. It stirred something faintly disdainful with him. Had her parents really not taught her any better? Could she really be so naïve? Hadn't he warned her?[break][break]

"Let's take into account what you know about me." Dane cleared his throat and quirked his unswollen brow as he returned his gaze to her face, eye darkened now with something intentional and sharp. "I'm gross. I've told you I'm gross. I'm not even pretending not to be." He shucked a quick, amused chuckle before continuing. "I'm not as drunk as I want to be but I'm tipping toward it. And I like to look like this," he beckoned lazily to himself and his self-inflicted ruin, lip tugging askew. "Why would you want to help me home?" [break][break]

He coaxed her back so he could stand from the backseat and gaze down at her, head throbbing from their earlier blows. "I'm not a puppy, Katrina. I reckon most people you come across like this rarely are." Moving slow, with a sort of mocking tenderness, he lifted a hand to grasp and rub at her upper arm, then stepped so he was placing her between him and the rear fender of her car. "What would you do if... say the piece of shit you're helping stumble through his door... puts his hands on you? Doesn't care that you say no? Gets truly mean when you try and fight him?" He dragged his gaze about her face, fingers bracing with just the faintest suggestion of pressure. As if to make a point. "Do you like putting yourself in those sorts of positions? Did you like it when that guy jeered at you earlier?" [break][break]

"Hey..." Dane grinned with wide, wolfish amusement, crowding closer. "Are you a virgin?"




[break]

you've got a lot to do, you've got a lot to be [break]
and in the end, maybe i'll see you there

Tag: Katrina Wells [break]
Give me a nudge for any changes! [break]
Or let me know if anything's not gucci.

[newclass=.lizardstripe-text b]color:#1F2F22;font-size:8pt;font-family:Open Sans, sans serif;[/newclass]

[googlefont=Poppins][googlefont=Open Sans]

[Katrina Wells]

You romanticize the feast and famine

Paralyzed by fear of failing

CW: Suggestions of violence and SA

Leaving him there in that alley way was simply not an option. Not in Katrina's mind. If he didn't want to give her his address she could understand that. Giving away where you live to a stranger wouldn't normally be a good idea. But she wasn't going to leave him slumped in some dirty alley where he could get mugged or some nasty infection. Or where he might just fall asleep and not wake up. No, Katrina already had her mind set. She was either taking him home, to a hospital, or she was going to put him in a hotel room at the very least. She was going to make sure he was okay. And perhaps her intentions, no matter how good they were, were entirely selfish. Because she could not rightfully let it sit on her conscious. Knowing that he was injured and she could have done something to help but didn't. "Well, maybe I'm not as smart as people think I am then."

Katrina could hear Nicholas now. Telling her she was too nice. That the man had already told her she could leave him so she should just do as he asked. That she was putting herself in a position that she didn't need to be in. That she didn't know next to anything about this man or how dangerous he could be. But she pushed those thoughts away. Especially as he began going on a rant as to why he was apparently undeserving of her help. Her brows knit together and her nose wrinkled slightly in confusion as he asked why she would want to take him home. "Just because you look gross doesn't mean you are," she insisted. "And because you're hurt and you deserve to be taken care of when you're hurt," her tone was flat, plain. As if saying so was the most obvious thing in the world. That there was no question, no contest, in the fact that she would stop and pick up a wounded man off the side of the road to help him.

As he began to stand she let out a soft, concerned gasp as she tried to nudge him to sitting back down. But then he was grabbing her. She'd never said he was like some puppy. But before she could respond he was moving her body to press between his and her car. Alarm bells rang off through her whole body. The muscles in her body tensed as if preparing to knee him in the crotch and making a run for it. The wind around them kicked up wildly. Blowing Katrina's long dark hair around her face and blurring her sight on the man in front of her. It blew hard against him, as if attempting to shove him away from her as it kicked up debris from the surroundings. In the distance thunder rumbled low and angry. As he asked if she was a virgin her face paled for a moment before Katrina took a hard swallow. Tears welled in her darks eyes. Pricking at the corners and threatening to spill over.

She didn't know what she'd done to make him so upset. But this didn't seem right. Not once in any interaction she'd had with him had it seemed like he wanted to hurt her. She'd never felt afraid that he might take advantage of her. "Two pounds of pressure," she blurted out, her voice wavering slightly. "That's all it takes to shove the bone in the bridge of your nose into your brain to kill you," not that Katrina actually wanted to hurt him. He was trying to scare her. Nicholas had tried to scare her before too. "One of your eyes is already swollen and you've been drinking when I haven't so it wouldn't be that hard to knee you in your testicles or gouge my thumb into your eye and run away."

The wind slowed gradually as she looked up at him. Steeling her gaze as much as she could even as her heart still hammered wildly in her chest. "I might be over caring but I'm not defenseless," which had been something her siblings had always been sure of. Katrina didn't want to hurt people. She wanted to avoid conflict if she could. But she wasn't naïve enough to believe that there weren't people in the world who would want to hurt her. "I don't know why you're acting like this but I...I know you don't want to hurt me." He could have done far worse to her at any point in time. Katrina knew she put herself in situations sometimes that were dangerous for her. But she never went in without an escape plan. Without making an assessment of the situation.

"I want to help you because you're hurt and had that man put his hands on me you would have stepped in to help me," that she was sure of. If that big drunk had cornered her. Had he held her far more tightly than Darren was now. Bruised the shapes of his fingers into her arms as she cried and begged him to stop, Darren would have stopped him. "I don't know who hurt you and taught you to use your misery like some sort of shield but you deserve kindness too," her voice, while firm, held no waver to it this time. She spoke softly but so matter-of-factly. Even as her face burned red with fear and embarrassment. The first wet tears finally broke past and rolled down her heated cheeks even as she tried to keep that firm, determined expression.

Tag: Dane Wayland
Sorry this became kind of a mess! lol let me know if you need me to add any more or change anything!

MADE BY NIGHTBLOOM

[Dane Wayland]

[nospaces]

LYING FACE DOWN IN THE GUTTER

of unaccomplished dreams; don't wait for me

[break]

[attr="class","lizardstripe-text"](CW: Dane continues to be deplorable, could be uncomfy) [break][break]

Katrina tensed beneath him. And — as it had done in the alley before — it was as if the very air around them responded to her abrupt loss of ease. The wind howled, scattering her hair across her face as it pulled at Dane's own and ripped at his clothes. He tipped his face momentarily to the sky as thunder threatened, single eye squinted against the peculiarity. Less of a peculiarity to him than it might be to others. He cracked a wicked grin, showing his pinkened teeth, as he dropped his attention back to her. "This you?" He asked excitedly, a wild laugh held at bay in the back of his throat. It was just one more reason she should be wary. Why she shouldn't be offering hands to bloodied men in dark alleys. Shouldn't be helping him of all people. [break][break]

He watched the tears gather in her eyes, smiling with a teasing, insincere sympathy as her face paled and then darkened. She started to spout her knowledge of self-defense and he tipped his chin with a slightly approving look, tempered significantly by the knowing accusation that she wasn't doing any of it. Then the wind died down and his lip curled further as he observed the efforts she took to make herself braver. To look more steeled. He loosened the brace of his fingers against her arm in response, letting them smooth against her skin gingerly instead of bite. Good. [break][break]

She claimed that he didn't really want to hurt her and Dane quirked a brow. "Dangerous assumption," he muttered, voice darkly amused. How could she be sure? She continued on, asserting that he would have intervened if the drunk man from earlier had gotten handsy. She sounded so decided of the fact, her voice sure and solid, and Dane couldn't quirk his brow any further, so he breathed a short, teasing chuckle instead. "Would I have?" Again, how could she be sure? What had he done to earn such confidence? Continued confidence, especially now? [break][break]

The faint, pacing disdain within him quickened its stride. His fingers tightened on her arm once more. [break][break]

What would someone have to do to her, before they were ugly in her eyes? How bad would she let them hurt her before she turned her back? How far would she let herself be pushed — be abused — before she took a stand and said 'no'? He didn't like how it was looking. Why were kind, selfless people always so willing to make martyrs of themselves? How could they let people take pieces of them, make them bleed and hurt, and steadfastly refuse to bite back? It made no sense. And it was infuriating. [break][break]

Finally, Katrina surmised that she wanted to help him because he was hurt. Concluded he was deserving of kindness and that he used his pain — his "misery" — as a shield. Her voice was still firm — somehow as soft as it was unyielding, and the first, fat tear skipped down her cheek to hang from her jaw. Dane scoffed incredulously. "Oh, am I? Read that on the bathroom walls, did you?" [break][break]

He searched her face, dark with embarrassment, and lifted his free hand to gingerly tuck the hair the wind had scattered around back in place. Ghosted his fingertips just barely down the slope of her jaw, catching the tear that clung there with a knuckle. "I'm sorry, kitty Kat, it's nothing so complicated as that," he said softly, voice mocking in its gentleness as he tipped his head. "Some people just like to hurt people. And some people like to be hurt. I happen to be both." [break][break]

He hadn't intended to go much further. He had really only wanted to frighten her and maybe take a little gratification in seeing how discomforting he could be when he wanted to be. He'd wanted her to fight him off. To get in her car, speed away, and leave him to stumble home by himself. He'd let her. And he'd be pleased, hoping she took with her a healthy caution for the next time she decided to meet up with strangers and thought to be too generous to obviously sketchy dudes. [break][break]

But she wasn't scared enough. Despite the tears in her large, doe eyes, she wasn't taking him seriously enough. He even got the vague impression that she was trying to teach him something. And he didn't like the taste of that in his mouth — it didn't pair well with the metallic traces of blood in his teeth. Whatever point she was trying to make, something about him, it (very decidedly) wasn't the lesson here. He didn't care for it. [break][break]

Dane sighed through his nose, laxing his body just a bit and feigning disappointment. "Be honest. Is it the eye?" He lifted a hand to beckon flippantly to his busted face, lip tucking as if suddenly self-aware and sheepish. "Hard to be scary, I suppose, when someone's already kicked your ass." Although he'd let the words be light, almost amused, and his eyes had softened, a moment later, his gaze was steeled again, his voice emptied and cold. "Maybe I'll just have to try harder." [break][break]

Tightening his grip on her arm, he forcibly spun her around, pulling her back from the car for a moment only to shove her back against it, less kind and coaxing than he'd been before. He thought of the knife at his belt. Wondered if he might have to hurt her just a little in order for her to learn. But then, it probably wasn't necessary. He twisted the arm in his grip behind her back, holding it there with a pressure that was far more earnest than his earlier squeezing. "You say you're not defenseless but you're being pretty defenseless. Words aren't weapons. They won't save you. And knowing what you should do doesn't matter if you're too nice —" he wiggled her trapped arm — "To actually do it." [break][break]

He leaned close so his breath was in her ear, anticipating and hoping for the crack of her skull as she finally forced herself to act. "You can be a nice girl. I don't advise it, but sure, I suppose you can give bad guys the benefit of the doubt. But... when they've got you like this," he paused to breathe — made it long and deep, wanting it to make her skin crawl — and tried to kick her feet further apart with one of his own. "And they don't care what you say, be a nice girl who fights back."




[break]

you've got a lot to do, you've got a lot to be [break]
and in the end, maybe i'll see you there

Tag: Katrina Wells [break]
Give me a nudge for any changes!

[newclass=.lizardstripe-text b]color:#1F2F22;font-size:8pt;font-family:Open Sans, sans serif;[/newclass]

[googlefont=Poppins][googlefont=Open Sans]

[Katrina Wells]

You romanticize the feast and famine

Paralyzed by fear of failing

Katrina wasn't sure what he meant when he asked if something was her. What was he talking about? It was hard to focus on anything that didn't involve making him stop. She didn't know what she'd done so wrong. Why he was suddenly being so mean to her or trying to scare her. All she wanted to do was help. "You stopped him from touching me at the bar, stopped him from saying something nasty," she pointed out. He'd been nice. Telling her to stop texting gross dudes. Texting her that he hadn't been the one to tell her to take her top off. And she was still certain had he really wanted to hurt her he would have done so already. But he was acting more like an animal backed into a corner. All growls and bared teeth to appear bigger and scarier.

Every time she tried to talk him down he seemed to only become more frustrated. Irritated with her assumptions, because she truly believed he wasn't as bad as he was making himself out to be. As he reached up to push her hair away Katrina's body tensed. Dark, heavy clouds had started forming over head. Blotting out the stars and covering over the moon. Her jaw tightened as she bit back that instinctive urge to flinch away from his hand. To keep her facial expression determined and her eyes locked on him.

"Some people just like to hurt people. And some people like to be hurt. I happen to be both."

Why? Katrina wanted to ask but decided to keep the question to herself. Likely he'd only answer with something to make her purposefully uncomfortable. Less to actually do with why he chose to degrade himself and purposefully seek out others to hurt him. As he seemed to relax a bit Katrina gave him a look of suspicion. Not sure if he was actually going to back away or if he was only goading her into thinking she was safe. So she waited, still tense, before he claimed he had to try harder. As his grip tightened on her arm Katrina immediately attempted to yank herself away. She twisted as the wind picked up again. Harder than before making it hard to keep her own footing as he forcibly turned her body and pressed her against her car.

Her heart raced in her chest like a frightened bird trying to escape its cage. Her eyes shut tight and she grit her teeth as a crack of lightening momentarily lit up the clouds and loud thunder followed after it only making Katrina's heart drop into her stomach.

"Come on Katrina, get your shit together!" She heard Nick's voice in her head. Yelling at her, berating her. He was always the hardest on her when he was teaching her to fight. Her whimpering and tears and begging to stop only ever seemed to make him angrier with her. "Being nice is gonna get you killed. That what you want? You can't talk all pretty and cry your way out of every fucking situation!" Katrina whimpered as the pain shot up her arm and grit her teeth. There was a beg for him to stop dancing on her tongue but she kept her mouth shut. Not wanting to give him whatever satisfaction he was looking for in her fear.

"Be a nice girl who fights back."

He sounded just like Nick. Which only made her more sure he didn't want to hurt her. But if he was anything like her brother he wasn't interested in listening to her plead for his softer side. Her hard whipped around her face as Katrina took a breath. As he attempted to kick her feet apart she lifted one of her own to stamp it down on his foot. Before she knocked her head back as hard as she could. Feeling the back of her skull collide with his already busted and bruised face. This was the opposite of what she wanted. Immediately her stomach twisted in knots. She didn't want to hurt him.

Still, she used her free arm to twist her body. Her elbow aimed for the side of his head as she worked to wrench herself out of his hold. "Stop it!" She demanded, her voice hard even as she choked back a cry.

Tag: Dane Wayland
Let me know if you need to change or adjust anything!

MADE BY NIGHTBLOOM

[Dane Wayland]

[nospaces]

LYING FACE DOWN IN THE GUTTER

of unaccomplished dreams; don't wait for me

[break]

[attr="class","lizardstripe-text"]As he spun her around, Katrina finally began struggling in earnest. The wind picked up in answer, pulling at them with renewed vigor. There was a flash of lightning in the darkening clouds overhead and, a moment later, an angry crack of thunder. The sound of it, low and threatening, stirred a pacing excitement through the core of him; a delighted, almost awe-struck anticipation made familiar by his many years spent chasing and putting down people so unearthly powerful. She was Gifted. She could harness the very air and sky to protect herself and a part of him very much hungered to see it. [break][break]

As he twisted her arm further into her back — earning a pained whimper — and kicked at her feet, she forced herself to retaliate. She stomped on his foot and his mouth split into a wide, pleased grin — which then fell from his face completely a second later when she cracked her head back into his, just as he'd hoped she would. Pain blossomed and radiated through his already hot and beaten face. Even though he felt her shift beneath him and anticipated the blow, he didn't attempt to lift an arm to block the elbow she drove back at him. He simply let it connect with the side of his head and make his ears ring.[break][break]

Dane released her and stumbled back. "Fucking ow!" he exclaimed, chortling gleefully as soon as the words left his lips. He scrunched his face and craned his neck to rub the side of his head into a lifted shoulder. "The ear? Ha! Yep, that'll make the eye water." He stepped further back — allowing her some earned space — and lifted one hand to wave flippantly through the air, the other coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose. He could feel warmth in his nostrils and a new, slow drip of blood slipped down his lip. "Alright alright, no need to uh... open the heavens, calm down. I only wanted to make sure ya had it in ya." He tucked the fingers of his lifted hand into his palm to give her a solid 'thumbs up'. "But don't hesitate next time. The real nasty guys won't wait for you to buck up." [break][break]

Chuckling low and amused, Dane cast her an appraising, weighing glace as he stepped around her car and headed toward the passenger side door, nose still pinched between his fingers and gaze still dark despite his seeming (and sudden) return to levity. "Still wanna take me home, kitty Kat?"



[break]

you've got a lot to do, you've got a lot to be [break]
and in the end, maybe i'll see you there

Tag: Katrina Wells [break]
Give me a nudge for any changes!

[newclass=.lizardstripe-text b]color:#1F2F22;font-size:8pt;font-family:Open Sans, sans serif;[/newclass]

[googlefont=Poppins][googlefont=Open Sans]

[Katrina Wells]

You romanticize the feast and famine

Paralyzed by fear of failing

Katrina didn't want to have to cause harm. She hated fighting. Hated the blood and violence and pain. She didn't want to hurt anyone or be hurt by them. She just wanted to help people. Hitting a man in his already busted face and elbowing him in the ear was the opposite of helpful. As he let her go some tears slipped down her cheeks before she could bite them all back.

Her nose burned and her throat felt tight. His exclamation of pain made her spin around with a worried and startled expression. "I'm sorry!" She said quickly. Katrina knew she shouldn't be the one apologizing. He'd cornered her. Quite literally twisted her arm to force that reaction out of her.

Still, she felt bad. Felt the need to immediately apologize for causing him pain. She wanted to ask if he was okay but from his sudden change in attitude he seemed fine with it. Happy even. Drops of rain softly began pattering down. Sprinkling around them as she watched him walking to the other side of her car again. She still wasn't sure what he'd meant. Asking if something was her? Now saying to not open up the heavens? Katrina brushed it off to him being drunk and a pretty strange guy in general it seemed. So Katrina nodded at his question and quickly wiped the tears from her face.

She moved to the drivers side and climbed in, motioning for him to get in as well, before she reached in the glovebox to pull out a little packet of kleenex. "Here," she said as she opened the pack up and handed him a couple. Getting blood out of her car wasn't something she wanted to work out. "What's uh, what's your address?" She asked, her voice still a bit wavering. The rain was light and pattered softly against the car as Katrina pulled her phone out to pull up her GPS.

Once she had it in she put her key in the ignition and let the car rumble to life. The further out they drove the clouds began breaking up and the rain lightened up until it was gone completely. Something which Katrina seemed unfazed by. "You're just like my brother," she grumbled.

Tag: Dane Wayland
Let me know if you need to change or adjust anything!

MADE BY NIGHTBLOOM