"Hmmm~?" {closed}

Juraquille · May 14, 2015

RE: "Hmmm~?" {{Open}}

It was times like this when he was reminded how much of a dick Wrath was. Not that that'd stop him from worrying about Micah-- and secretly to some extent, Wrath--, but now, all he wanted was a nice drink while he groused about his lot in life. "At least I'm not a child with anger management issues, Wrath. You wouldn't know the word 'patience' even if it bit you in the skinny ass." Not that he'd ever ogled his brother's behind before to know what it looked like.

Once he ordered his first drink-- something strong-- he finally seemed to relax slightly, staring at his friend in longing. He'd specifically chosen this boy too, as he'd heard the boy was a good lay once you got him started. Well, there was always next time.

By the time he lost count of how many drinks he'd had before, his wavering gaze kept wandering back to Wrath. He could have had quite the orgy in motion, as many in the bar knew he was always up for a good time, but he wasn't focused on the injustice of his life.

This face is rather cute, he thought absentmindedly, knocking back yet another of the drinks that burned its way down his throat before settling into a warm simmer in his stomach. And I'm sure he'd be very passionate under the sheets.

Yup. He was drunk.

Zell · May 14, 2015

RE: "Hmmm~?" {{Open}}

Wrath was drinking easily, enjoying the taste of some sweet drinks--some that were fruity and others that were so thick they were like a milkshake from how much cream got mixed into them--that he hadn't noticed that his body wasn't actually responding well to the drinks until he'd taken one too many and found something... rather odd happening.

He was actually not in control of the body anymore.

It was the second time today that Micah's head had broken the murky depths of his own being and started actually piloting his own body, but now he was in control enough to watch it happen. Or, he kind of was. Actually the temporal demon was impressively drunk. It was probably the reason why he'd slipped up enough that Micah came out at all. Oh well. He'd deal with it later once he'd shaken off the alcohol. He didn't have to worry about Lust anymore now that Micah was at the helm.

Like he would leave his precious little baby brother alone in a strange bar with strange leery men.

"...Hu...nhhh..." Micah blinked. Everything was swimming and his head hurt. He looked around the bar, once again not recognizing where he'd woken up, but also not understanding what was going on with his body right now.

His brain was comprehending enough to notice Dulce sitting next to him... had Dulce brought him here?

"Dulce... Dulceeee..." He dived very slowly at his big brother, wrapping his arms around his middle and nuzzling his arm. "I missed you so much, so much."

Juraquille · May 15, 2015

RE: "Hmmm~?" {{Open}}

Micah's sweet voice was like a balm to his soul, soothing the troubles and fears he had built up ever since that time.

It was also like a bucket of ice to his libido, as the alcohol-driven perusal of his brother's body stopped immediately.

"M... M-Micah?" He stuttered all too hopefully, fearing Wrath was just trying to play a cruel joke on him. Knowing the dickhead, he'd tell Dad as well, and then he'd get in trouble for not letting it go. But how could he ever let Micah go?

But no, the innocent voice, the actions, the affection towards him... this was all Micah.

"Baby brother." He whimpered, the boy's reappearance like an arrow through his very being-- he knew this would only last until Wrath was sober again, and while he would make it last as long as he could, he knew the Sin's return was painfully inevitable. "I missed you too, my sweet Micah. I never stopped missing you."

Here, he hugged his little brother as if he'd never see him again, his emotions overwhelming his still drunk mind. He began babbling apologies, cursing himself for being so weak, for failing to save his sweet, sweet baby brother. He claimed it was all his fault, that he should've stood up to their father-- though he'd tried to that time and only got backhanded for his efforts--, he should've done this and that and everything else because he was Micah's big brother and should have been able to save him.

Zell · May 15, 2015

RE: "Hmmm~?" {{Open}}

Hearing his name, he nodded slowly against his arms. Every motion was slow, because he feared that if he moved any faster than a slow crawl he would throw up all over everything. Was this what it was like being absolutely drunk? Why did Dad do this all the time? It felt like he was walking underwater. Then again, given his age Wrath probably shouldn't have taken his body out for drinks anyway. But since when had Wrath ever cared about anything logical? Nothing could hurt him. If his body got too dinged up he would go back into dad's stupid cuff links.

"I know, I know." He said, rubbing Dulce's back. It felt nice to hug someone like this again. His last memories of it were over four years old, werent they, the day before he stopped being himself. When Dad did everything he ever wanted to do and then banished him away in a flurry and blinding agony and broken bones which healed as soon as the ritual was over.

It was like taking a long, long nap where you watched yourself do things that didn't make sense, but sometimes, sometimes you could send an impulse to yourself. You could affect yourself when the true controller wasn't paying attention or got too bored. Wrath was probably starting to slip up, or maybe he was just so bored of living in Micah's body he didn't even care anymore.

Or maybe he never cared.

"It's not... It's not your fault big brother. I d.. don't blame you." He tried to smile. He hadn't actually smiled in while. Did Micah even remember how to smile? "I shou... should have had more powers. But I was weak and... and mom and dad didn't like it."

He was thirsty, but he was certain that nothing within his arm's reach was non-alcoholic. "Wrath he... he doesn't care about me. If I just sleep when he's... doing his thing... he leave me alone."

Micah gave his big brother's hair a soft pet. "I love you, Dulce. Ok.. okay?"

Juraquille · May 16, 2015

RE: "Hmmm~?" {{Open}}

Dulce was really becoming maudlin now, all but wailing into Micah's shoulder as he gripped the boy tightly-- though, he was somehow able to keep himself from crushing the boy. His apologies ran together until they were an unintelligible mess. Quite like his emotions at the moment.

It took a few moments to register Micah's words, though when he did, turned red-rimmed, puffy eyes to meet the boy's gaze. "Y-You *hic* fo'give me...?" He mumbled, soft hiccups from both the crying and alcohol interrupting his speech. He began shaking his head, obviously ready to say that it was all his fault, he was the eldest, he'd never hated himself more for being so weak-- "No!" He shouted instantly-- or a few seconds later. "You w're... always p'rfect Mi-*hic*-cah!" He then started on a rambling list of why his brother was perfect as he was, from his sweet smile to his soft brown hair.

His rambling quieted into the occasional sobbing hiccup, watery, bright teal eyes searching the boy's face as best they could when Dulce was in such a state. "R-Really? You's not in... in p-*hic*-ain when he's..." He trailed off, though the acidic venom in his slurring voice, even as horribly out of it he was, was evidence enough of what Dulce thought about it all.

"I've always lov'd ya, Micah. My sweet, darling Mic-*hic*-ah~" He mumbled in response, happily soaking up his brother's affection before nuzzling his face, as tear-stained as it was, into Micah's chest. "P... Please, dun le-*hic*-ave me." He whispered, voice nearly inaudible this time, as if, saying it aloud would make it true.

He would fall apart again when Micah was forced back inside and Wrath took his place. Fucking dick, that one, Dulce thought distantly.

Zell · May 17, 2015

RE: "Hmmm~?" {{Open}}

Micah had never seen Dulce like this before. He'd never seen his big, strong, big brother break down emotionally so hard. Of course, he'd seen Dulce as being less than composed, especially when he started showing his Lust powers. Dad was really angry at him, at all the times he would bring boys home at various times in his life and ruined their good catholic name. Not that Micah had ever been particularly Catholic--he hated waking up on Sunday and going to church--but the hot chocolate and churro with his family was always his favorite part of the week.

He always looked forward to it.

Shaking his head, he brought his thoughts back to his sobbing brother. Dulce's face--pretty and perfect as it was--was rapidly becoming a mess of tears and snot. As he babbled on about all the ways that Micah was perfect (not perfect enough for dad though, he thought bitterly) the boy carefully wiped the tears off his brothers face and the snot from his nose. Dulce's eyes were still puffy and red from all of his tears. He wanted to laugh--Micah was so boring compared to Dulce! Silver hair and teal eyes next to boring brown and more boring brown on a boring brown body.

Micah was the boring brown king.

In pain? "Well... I wouldn't say that. It is my body... So when he changes his shape its like he's moving my insides and bones around. So it does hurt when he does stuff like this..." He said, gesturing to his still morphed body. "But it goes away after a while."

At his brother's plea, Micah smiled sadly. He wanted to promise that he would be there all the time, but he didn't know how long Wrath would let him live, and even if he left him alone for the rest of his natural life, he didn't know when Wrath would slip up and let him have control like he did today.

"I'll be there all the time," He said, lying only a little. "I hear you when you talk to Wrath. And sometimes I can make Wrath say things. But that makes him mad. Then he hurts me on purpose."

He gently massaged his brother's scalp to sooth him, running his fingers through his deliberately messy hair. "Either way, his will is a lot stronger than mine."

Juraquille · May 19, 2015

RE: "Hmmm~?" {{Open}}

Dulce barely paid any mind to Micah's attempts at cleaning him up, though winced loudly at his brother next words, as if he felt physical pain at the mere thought of his little brother being able to feel while Wrath was in control. The fact that he was at Wrath's mercy most of the time also struck home, and he let out another hysterical sob. His darling brother didn't deserve such misery and pain, all at the hands of a monster like Wrath.

He barely managed to hear Micah's promise over all of his own tears, though shifted so he could stare up at him. He knew, logically, that such a thing was nigh impossible, but then again, he wasn't in a logical state of mind. He'd also been entertaining the notion-- not as openly as he was now, drunk and emotionally all over the place as he was-- to find a way to separate Wrath from Micah. He could have his precious little Micah back, and Wrath could just find another host.

The reminder that Wrath could purposefully harm Micah whenever he wanted stopped him from voicing that thought, as he was sure the asshole would hurt his baby brother just to spite him, then go to their father with his words. His father would undoubtedly be displeased with him, probably even more so than he usually was for Lust's habit of sneaking 'friends' into the house, and he still adored the man regardless of how authoritarian he could be. He still slept with more boys than he technically needed to just to spite the man for what happened to Micah, but that didn't change the fact that the man was still his father, though the large part of him that still ~~obsessed~~ cared for Micah loathed himself for it.

He was broken out of his bittersweet musings by the gentle hand petting his hair. He relaxed under such ministrations, all but purring like a contented, emotionally drained cat. Still, a bone-deep, wary desolation embedded itself into Dulce's heart at Micah's last words. "You... You'll al-*hic*-ways mean m-more ta me than *hic* anythin' else, Micah." He mumbled, a lost look on his attractive features. "You've always have *hic*." He managed to refrain from mentioning that Micah was his world, as he didn't want to freak the boy out any more than he already was.

Zell · May 21, 2015

RE: "Hmmm~?" {{Open}}

Micah continued to massage his brother's head and soft hair, seeing that the patrons of the bar didn't seem to notice or mind them, and if they did they just watched passively. To them it just seemed like Dulce had gotten so drunk that he had an emotional breakdown and started acting like the boy sitting next to him all night was someone he'd never seen before in his life. Well, he supposed counting that up to his drunken stupor was better than most ways this could have gone. Papi had a lot of people he could bribe as a result of having a lot of money.

Speaking of Papi...

Micah patted his person and fished out his phone.

They had come here pretty early in the day, and it was probably dark out by now. No doubt the school had contacted Papi about him and Dulce not going to their classes, but he doubted that he would consider that to be that high on his list of concerns, considering that apparently Wrath had had some kind of episode involving a window, several desks and at least six other students and two faculty members--and Dulce probably got in trouble at least once for not being discrete with his sexual escapades.

"I feel the same w... way Dulce," Micah, said, smiling at his brother.

He didn't want to worry Dulce, considering his fragile emotional state, but...

His phone read one solitary message from Papi--changed in his phone to read "Greed", but his authority was so clear that the cold dread in his stomach could not possibly have been caused by anyone else--that read only one word.

"Home."

No doubt Papi was mad. He could tell Wrath do things, by virtue of having his tethers, but commands to the tethers never affected Micah. No doubt Papi had told Wrath to come home time and time again, only to have the Sin disobey.

The cold dread turned into a icy fist.

Oh god.

Juraquille · May 29, 2015

RE: "Hmmm~?" {{Open}}

The soothing touch of his little brother slowly but surely calmed Dulce down, and though his emotions and thoughts were everywhere and nowhere at once due to the alcohol, he could feel himself falling sleepy under Micah's gentle hands. His eyes fluttered closed several times only to reopen once more, and a soft mantra of his beloved brother's name fell from his lips, as slurred and hiccup-filled as it was.

His sudden drowsiness caused him to pay little mind to Micah's search for his phone. Even when his brother tentatively proclaimed he felt the same, all Dulce did was nuzzle his face into Micah's torso, his mantra devolving into a mess of mumbles and incoherent words. He didn't know when Wrath would be making a reappearance and force Micah back inside his... prison, and he wanted to bask in his sweet brother's presence for as long as he could.

He did, however, notice the exact moment Micah froze as if a cold, foreboding wind had made the hairs on his neck stand up; even in such a state, Dulce was highly tuned to his dearest brother.

He shifted so wavering teal eyes could look at the text that had frightened his darling Micah so. He nearly fell off the bar stool as well, but managed to cling onto his brother and regain his rather dubious balance.

"Home."

A similar sense of dread coiled around Dulce, acting as a sobering bucket of icy water over his head. However, his fear was for Micah. Their father often acted as if Micah had never even existed, as if Wrath had always been there. Dulce wasn't sure what to expect should their father interact with the real Micah, and that made him worry. Marco was normally a rather predictable man when it came to family.

Because of this, Dulce knew to expect to be beaten senseless and most likely sealed in his room for a few hours. To that, there was only resigned acceptance, shame that he'd garner, as always, such a reaction from the man he only wished to impress, triumphant bitterness that he'd manage to upset their father once more, and a bone-deep sense of self-loathing. Yes, when he was just figuring himself out in his sexual escapades, he may have tried to fight back against his father had Marco hurt him so, would have stared up at the man with tears of betrayal. But...

Wasn't it a father's prerogative to discipline his son as he saw fit?

"We gots ta g*hic*o, Micah." He mumbled, attempting to stand from his seat and only succeeding in bringing both of them to the floor when he clung onto his brother for balance once more. "B-But, you... he can*hic*'t know it's you!" Here, he fell apart again, his expression crumbling. He feared that their father would order Wrath to destroy Micah once and for all; who would Dulce live for then?

Zell · May 29, 2015

RE: "Hmmm~?" {{Open}}

"We gots ta g*hic*o, Micah. B-But, you... he can*hic*'t know it's you!"

From their place on the floor and Dulce's drunken stupor, Micah knew at least that much. He wasn't able to experience much of the world from the flesh prison his body had become, but he knew that his father still treated Wrath the way he'd remembered. His attitude only changed in response to Wrath's behavior. The first words that Wrath had heard, if their now-shared memory was to be believed, was 'Hello there, son'.

'Hello there, son', as though the ritual that ripped his very essence from his body to make room for an intruder had been nothing more than a little nap that he'd taken on the parlor floor amidst his Spanish study books and toys in the warm summer afternoons before Manta Carlos.

"I know, big brother," He said softly, maneuvering their bodies carefully to support Dulce. Hopefully they would be able to get back home with no problems. Hopefully the message was sent from just normal concern. Hopefully Papi was just concerned as to why they weren't home yet, and he would believe that having two alive and intact sons was better than having no sons at all. Hopefully the man that was harsh but fair that he remembered from his childhood, who seemed to judge small Micah and little Dulce by lofty standards that seemed just barely within their reach, would be lenient with them.

The icy fist of dread in his stomach told him otherwise.

He patted Dulce as he left behind a fistful of money--probably more than either of them had drank, but he doubted the barkeep would complain about being overcompensated--leading his drunk brother out of the bar. Wrath's memories were swimming in his mind, but he could at least comprehend them enough to set the two of them on the path towards the Lopez Estate, every step closer to that ominous home sending chills down his spine.

Micah had come to peace with the realization that he was scared.

He was very, very scared of what Papi would do to Dulce, and what he might do to him. Tough but fair with underlying stoic kindness had been his childhood idea of Marco Lopez, and to little Micah nothing symbolized the pinnacle of what he should aspire to be when he became an adult more. But now the thought of him was tainted with such a painful bitterness. Papi had given him a severe punishment, he had come to the conclusion that it would be alright to destroy everything Micah was for Wrath to appear, and no matter how Micah wracked his brain he couldn't come up with anything that would absolve his Papi. For the longest time the childish pedestal he'd put Marco on refused to crumble.

His papi wouldn't, he'd thought time and time again in the loneliest, darkest corner of his subconscious where Wrath let him hide. He wouldn't. Not to him. Not for no reason. He'd been bad somehow. He had to have deserved it.

Micah's musings brought them to the door of the estate. Fumbling with his pockets, he fished out the key and slid it into the lock, opening the door to the home Micah had never known.

"We're home..."

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"Hmmm~?" {closed}

Juraquille

Sleepy...

Zell

Well-Known Member

Juraquille

Sleepy...

Zell

Well-Known Member

Juraquille

Sleepy...

Zell

Well-Known Member

Juraquille

Sleepy...

Zell

Well-Known Member

Juraquille

Sleepy...

Zell

Well-Known Member