The Capitol
Straight
Sexuality
Birthing Raiden's child
Relationship Status
doesn't' bag weed, nope
Occupation
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Angel
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Virginia time
Tag me @applecollins
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Post by Apple Collins on Feb 8, 2015 12:13:41 GMT
Ever since Apple's hasty, permanent departure onto bigger and better things, she'd been feeling disconnected. It'd taken her several months for the reality of her dissociation to set in: she had nothing of her mother's or half-brother's. Sure, some people'd think that tearing yourself away from a toxic hole completely was the most favorable option, but she didn't want to forget the good in her life; it made her feel human.
Though of course, Raiden couldn't let her stare the Devil in his eyes alone. He was so street-smart and careful because of his wicked past time, pushing drugs and playing the villain. But she knew he'd never be the villain in her life. Maybe it was puppy-love, but it felt too real. His smile melted her. She craved his touch, not feared it like with most people.
And that was how she came to this scene: her ducking out of a chipped taxi cab with billfolds tucked in her pocket (in case of emergency. She and Raiden were equally paranoid), her slouchy leather bag held cross-body over her torso. Her hair caught the crisp winter breeze, fluffing the platinum, beachy waves up to Heaven. Her lashes were wispy and long - and false, to anyone with a keen eye. She wore her lips bare, her face pale with the season, dimpled cheeks blushed at the apples from the natural temperature. A combination of pale browns dusted over her lid, her tear-duct highlighted a pinky nude to soften the meticulous dump of color over her lid. She blinked hard, the strength of the wind blowing on her lashes, fluttering them uncomfortably. She tugged her fingers against the edge of her classic, wine red pea coat with knobby buttons and a mottled faux fur lining close to her, covering her thin, pastel pink, popcorn knit sweater with numb fingers.
C'mon, Ray! She thought with haste, slowing her pace to that of a snail's as she approached the front of the tiny walk-in cafe, bashfully painted the same shades as her eyes, the colors chipped with age. She didn't want to face the beast alone, no matter how great her outlook on life'd changed. It was still taxing, but she knew it'd be worth it to hold her mother's old masculine watch and her brother's bandana.
Exhaling, a cloud of vapor swirled in a mini fog around her lips, drying them as she pulled the door open, a "cling" from above signaling to the staff that someone'd arrived. Her gaze basked over each person until she caught site of her target. Her heart beat picked up, but outwardly as well as inwardly (other than her wild pulse), she felt cool and collected.
"Hi," She chirped, like they were old friends, "Raiden's running late. He wanted some cereal." She was still bad at conversation and kept her words short, but that was more by choice now than anything. She kept her coat on, gesturing to the door and meekly saying, "it's cold in here, ain't it?"
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May 17, 2024 10:30:56 GMT
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Post by Deleted on Feb 10, 2015 3:45:24 GMT
It was so out of character for him to have not put up a fight. So odd for him to not make his daughter walk miles, beg for days, scream at the sky to just to gain a tad bit of attention from her father. He'd just given in, not feeling up to the hunt, knowing that eventually he'd cave in anyways so he could taunt her in person. She rang him, demanding that he hands over two prized possessions of her loved ones and he just shrugged then set up a date. In all honesty, he was just worn out- torn down at the moment. He'd just split with the a woman he actually came to love- someone he called home, but nothing ever good came out when Dean was involved. She found out about his dirty little secret and raced out of his arms as quickly as she could, and left him deflating before he took to the pump as filled himself back up. Gathering women, and flourishing in the riches no one was too certain on how he got- he was nearly stuffed back to his former cocky self, so why not top it off with a good round of bringing his daughter down? It eased his mood knowing just one glance at her made her tremble, that if he'd spit a phrase she could end up bawling. He loved getting a rise out of her, watching people come undone was by far his favorite pass time. So here he was, thumb brushing along the top of his coffee cup, his eyes plastered boringly to one of the dull posters on the wall. His irises were something of myth. So blue, but they were deceiving. The crystalline aura was unnaturally bright, welcoming even- but underneath those pools of diamonds sat a rattlesnake, festering in his pit of water, waiting to snap at an approaching victim. His glares were frosty, iced over and floating with glaciers, yet they managed to burn guilt into innocent souls. It made it almost impossible to look him in the eyes directly without cowering. Biting on his lower lip with a slim sense of remembrance, Dean found himself thinking. For once, just letting the memories crawl in as the silence of th cafe settled over him. There she was, his little baby girl, sat on his lap and giggling. He actually smiled as she tugged at his shirt, and nibbled at his fingers. She couldn't have been more than a year old, making her single father melt, his heart swollen as he played with his child. He'd all too graciously taken her in, tending to her needs after her mother dumped her here. Apple was his whole world, everything he could have ever wished for- and she held that title until she hit six. Something just changed in the blonde, and he found himself experimenting. One thing led to another and it became a habit, a need of his. It was bad, illegal and cruel, but he didn't care. Not about the consequences of his actions or even how it would affect his daughter later in life, he just did what he wanted. It stayed tht way for years, only stopping when he married Paisley. Zayn kept Apple safe, his mother oblivious to the horrors the man was capable of, but then the divorce happened, and his old habits flared up once again. Just for a short period of time, and then she was gone. Periodically she'd reach out for him, part of her hoping he'd have changed or that he could just be here dad, but no such luck. He was the bad guy, but he hadn't always been that way. He was once a happy father, but things changed. Shaking the thoughts off, Dean wasn't even bothered by them. He knew he was a monster and he delved into the power he held over everyone at that fact. He was evil, really, a devil at work. A smir tainted his thin, overtly pink lips, his eyes a stark, pale blue in the frosty winter. His skin lacked color and held a fair share of scars, but he didn't care- not about a thing. A milky green coat hugged his chest, a muddy tan shirt just underneath that. Jeans sat on his waist, and feet clad in boots- typical wear for him. The man's dirty blonde hair was tugged back, styled with nothing more than a run of the hands. With a sigh, he glanced around the shop, about ready to leave the stuffy place and make Apple grow frantic over his whereabouts, but just as he made a move to, she waltzed in and sank into the booth seat across from him. His smirk only intensified, seeing as her little boy toy (who she'd mentioned would be joining her) was late. Play time. His head turned slowly as she spoke, eyes never leaving her porcelain face. She was a pretty girl, holding all of his colorings, but masking her mother's features. Letting the left side of his lips angle upwards, he watched her clumsily make conversation. He was quite entertained at how fidgety she was, and he hadn't even said a single word. Yet. Cocking his head ever so slightly, he barked out a laugh. It was harsh and cold, lacking the loving undertone that should have been held in a father's chuckle. "Quite the anxious jitter bug, aren't you, Apple? Nervous to be here alone while your boy ditched you for cereal, " he popped the ending of his question, head tilted in a taunting manor as he added, "No point in making conversation, love- I know what happens when you get," he leaned forward slightly, his tone oh so cocky, "Flustered." Tossing in a wink to really screw with her already stuttering state, he cracked a wicked grin, ready to have a ball while he ruined his daughter one syllable at a time. A shoe-in nominee for Dad of the year, amirite?
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District Thirteen
bisexual
Sexuality
Airron won't leave me alone
Relationship Status
District 13 Military Commander
Occupation
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Angel
Offline
Virginia time
Tag me @jasminforte
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Post by Jasmin Forte on Feb 10, 2015 21:43:53 GMT
Apple hadn't even had time to grow comfortable in the cushy, nylon booth that stuck to her high-waisted, acid-washed jeans. She crossed her leg, sighing a petite, deflated sort of sigh. She tipped her chin upward slightly, eyes still faintly glowing with mysterious happiness that her father'd never caused, much less witnessed. Sure, she was scared, but her overwhelming sense of courage was a panacea; a cure all, wiping away any self-doubt. "Wow-wee, you sure look awfully pale, dad. I guess your age is catching up to you!" She said with fragrant passive-aggressive notes.
"Ha-ha!" She snorted, "my dear little sis seemed to have rubbed off on me. Sucks you haven't met her. She's a hoot and a half." Wait? Is he trying to convince me that Ray ditched me for cereal? Cereal? That's, like, his fifth favorite food. He'd probably only ditch me for like.. fried chicken, but not in a situation like this. Her mind wandered off. She'd lost her first burst of bravery. Oh Gosh. Please stop looking at me like I'm something to eat.
Apple swallowed hard to stifle a startled cough at the direction her thoughts fell toward. She directed herself back to safer land: coffee. She thought about coffee with Raiden in expensive little corner cafes - much unlike this cheap, peeling structure. He'd never drink a foaming-to-perfection latte without a few packets of sugar dumped into it.
"Uhh... sorry if I seemed rude. It just seems that I...hate you." She finished smoothly, but also without any hint of menace. She just cocked her head slightly and nodded, a bashful smile forming like she truly was sorry for what she said.
Not a chance.
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May 17, 2024 10:30:56 GMT
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Post by Deleted on Feb 11, 2015 3:23:16 GMT
A brisk hand tapped against his cheeks, the palm grazing the stubbled flesh as he tried to raise some form of color to his cheeks- only managing to get a blossoming pink to filter over his once tanned skin. Truth be told, the only reason he even bothered to get a hint of life back into his tone was so he could tease Apple about it, finding her taunting pushing him over the edge. She had learned from the best, so as she jeered, he smacked back ten times harder. Dropping his fist back against the table, he smirked, tilting his head as he replied in a faux caring tone, his words light, but with a knick of venom under them. "Age? Baby, I'm afraid you can't get rid of me that easily, just winter's effect on your ol' man's flesh." His sinister grin only intensified as he rested his elbows on the table, his chin burrowing in the hold of his hands as he leaned forward. He was as healthy as a horse, his pigmentation just a side effect of staying in doors all day trying to cure hangovers and figure out how that woman got into his bed. He was a optimal wreck, his life in shatters, but her preferred it that way. Easier to toss the shards when they were in arm's reach. Eyeing his daughter up and down, he just watched her. Nothing more.
Dean was waiting for it to happen, patiently observing her facial expressions until worry plagued her facade- and there it was. Just after she tattled on about the sister he just barely knew about, (and frankly didn't care to know since she wasn't related to him and wasn't his problem) she faltere. Her bravery gave out and she sunk for a moment. Not even a minute into the conversation and he'd already blown through the chink in her armor.
Apple just made this too easy for him.
Biting down gingerly on his bottom, chapped lip, he held in a rancid chuckle and just glared at her, clearly not even bothered by her proclaim of hate. Heck, he hated himself too, no big deal. No one could get under his flesh, for he was too thick skinned- accustomed to being the one slithering around people's hearts rather than people prodding at his. Noting swiftly that her weak spot was this boy he had yet to meet, he stored it at the bottom of his list of things he'd say to make her squirm. Casper, Zayn, and the Malik's ranked on that list, as did her mother and tidbits of her past. Dean just had a whole arsenal for tearing her down and he relished in that fact. Anything to make himself feel better.
Leaning back into the squeaky material of the booth, he faked a gasp and pressed his fingertips over where his cold heart should be beating. His face held hurt, but his glacial irises sparked with spite, a dark cloud looming over his puppy dog stare. "Oh dear, hate is such a strong word. What could I have done to make my little Apple Core feel this way? What did daddy do?" He shifted his lips into a pout, head cocked as he mocked worry.
Dean wanted her to say it. To get mad and grow weak. He wanted her to suffer just as he did.
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District Thirteen
bisexual
Sexuality
Airron won't leave me alone
Relationship Status
District 13 Military Commander
Occupation
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Angel
Offline
Virginia time
Tag me @jasminforte
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Post by Jasmin Forte on Feb 11, 2015 3:47:51 GMT
She picked it back up like a rhythm. "Old is right! Geez, wow, your poor ole' bones! I don't think it's the weather, and it ain't genetics, 'cause I'm still as fresh as the daises you'll be pushing soon enough." She wrung her fingers out, popping each individual, dainty knuckle. She halted at her pinkie, struggling for the release of tension, but the joint just wouldn't pop. She dropped her hands into her lap and cleared her throat, flicking a lock of fluffy, plush cotton candy hair out of her eyes. She really did look well.
It wasn't until he said his last round of words that she physically recoiled. She cocked her head down toward her lap as she experienced an 'ah ha!' moment. The knife in her pocket. No. No, no... this isn't how this ends. Control yourself.
"You were a God awful father. And.. don- don't call me that. I'm not your anything. Not yours, never was." She repeated it internally like a mantra. She pursed her lips, relaxing and effortlessly pulling forth a smile. The gap that'd been a missing tooth was filled. Her teeth glimmered with health. A waitress wandered her way over. "Hi... hi," Apple struggled, but nevertheless was as charming as her father.
"Howdy. I didn't see you come in for the longest time! Anyway, lemme get your order?"
"Uhh - latte, extra foam. And can I get one iced too, please?" For Raiden. Apple definitely knew a thing or two about coffee. She seemed to be well-off; living comfortably.
"Sure thang. Be back in a jiffy." And the older, wiry-headed waitress was off.
That little show of kindness was enough to cool down her sparks. Her fingers knotted together in her lap. "Sooo... did you bring ma's watch? Zayn's bandana?" She figured he'd play games with her, but a dark part of her wanted him to just so she could show off her way with weapons - especially those of the sharp sort. She wanted to end his miserable existence, save countless women heartbreak.
But it wasn't her place. Unlike her boy, she wasn't equipped for deviance. She was just the perky "arm candy" that came with a surprise. She always lingered nearby, playing a spoiled doll with her arm hooked against Raiden's. But his client steps a hair out of place, and she's the one they answer to. Even with her small size, she packs a punch: the element of surprise. She'd never had to seriously hurt anyone - just give them time to escape out of dangerous situations. She was good with that.
You could call deception her calling, really. There was a warrior in her, straining for release. And Dean didn't want to unleash that Hell beast.
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Post by Deleted on Feb 21, 2015 22:42:21 GMT
Well, he couldn't blame her for being so sour- he really wasn't the best father figure. He had his reasons, didn't change the fact that what he did was wrong, but frankly? He didn't care about the lasting effect on his daughter. Dean was never in the wrong. So, her words didn't bother him in the slightest, for he rarely even registered anything she did let alone say. It was just a muffle in his ears, his eyes glazed over with boredom as he turned his attention to his far more interesting glass of black coffee. She didn't even make sense, really. He knew she was stupid, but not to this extent. Talking about him as if he would double over in a fit of pain and pass away at any moment. He was barely thirty-seven, the likelihood of that was, sadly for her, pretty slim. He wouldn't be 'pushing daisies' any time soon. That mouth of hers would get her in a grave before he even popped a gray hair. How did such a cunning man like himself raise a girl with the IQ of a potato? He sighed, dragging his hand roughly through his bleached blonde hair just as she fiddled with her own. Like father like daughter. Reluctantly, he glanced up at his offspring at her last spout of words, a sick grin twisting against his lips as he watched her come undone. Had he struck a nerve? Good. His body warmed with the uncanny heat of pleasure as he watched her stutter. It wasn't a lustful burn at his heart, but rather a proud one- a fire that stung his chest as he held down a chuckle of glee. He was pleased with her reaction, silently praising himself for managing to get her to split at the seems with anxiety. His voice was sickeningly sweet, contrasting against the frist glare in his eyes. "Oh, but on the contrary. You are mine. You are my flesh, my blood- my daughter," Dean pauses for a moment, glancing her up and down with disgust before spitting out, "As hard as you try, you'll always be in my cell. You're my bunk mate, buddy. In every sense of the term, you are my bi-" He cut himself off as the curvy waitress who'd gotten him coffee earlier came around. He flashed Apple a cocky look before smiling at the woman. He never got caught, and never would. People swooned over him in an unnatural manor, and when his daughter would curdle and spite them, he'd just explain that she wasn't sane. She wasn't, really. Tossing his arms over the back of the booth seat, he let his tongue prod the side of his cheek, silently watching the interaction between the waitress and his daughter. He let his lips mold into a smirk around the work of the moist muscle as she ordered a drink for that late boyfriend of hers. He bit back a chuckle, curious as to why he still hadn't appeared. Surely he knew of the 'monster' little Apple's daddy was, so why had he let here come alone? Hm. Dean snapped out of his thoughts as the woman flashed him a flirty grin and held out the pot of coffee- seeing if he needed a refill. His tongue sat at the corner of his lips, eyes trailing up her body until he met her gaze. Raising the palm of his hand, but nothing more, he eyed the steaming pot and spoke in a husky tone, "Nah, I'm fine." She smiled at his voice, sending him a subtle wink before swaying her hips a little more than normal to keep his attention on her- and boy did it work. He glanced down her frame and that after her as she pranced off. She was maybe a fee years older, hair thin and a wispy blonde, but she looked good for her age. Looks like someone isn't going to be sleeping alone tonight. Sighing with approval, he flattened down his hair and chuckled, though it was cut short when he released his nuisance child was still present and sputtering a bucket of word vomit his way. He couldn't stop the irritated roll of eyes that followed her request, his hands lazily patting his lap as if feeling around his pockets for the possessions before he pulled a face and spoke as if he was actually sympathetic, "Oh my, seems I've forgotten the bandana at home. Good thing he's still alive and you can just go ask for one- unlike that ole' mother of yours. Not that she was much of that anyways. Are you still avoiding Zayn? Does he talk to you after that stunt you pulled? He talks to me, even comes around every once in a while. Good kid, I always saw him as a son," he smiled gingerly and genuinely, his eyes cast downwards at his cup. He always felt closer to the male than his own flesh- and the little blonde boy originally felt the same until he found out Dean's little secret. Zayn spited him, but couldn't help visiting the only man he could call a father. He knew he shouldn't have, but when Apple was missing and his mom couldn't offer much help, he sought out the man. He'd never dare speak to Apple about it, but here Dean has gone and spilled the beans. Breathing on his fingertips, he gently rubbed them against his coat and then outstretched his arm to glance at them, his lips in a smirk naturally. "So," he purred, "Is this Raiden character ever going to show up?" He raised his icy glare onto his vile creation, taunting her with ease.
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