head bouncing from you to her and back

smiling taken in by the power you exude

Lol

sex with another woman….shivering at the memory

Thank you beautiful

Brb

Front.
We found no freaks until you returned.

I hope you are not denying being the Queen freak

welcome back….smile

Oh?
What kind of a freaky happening?

Back

decadence has started a new game with the following players:
decadence

" S T A R T G A M E : t r u e "{ " g a m e I d " : " 1 7 2 1 9 6 8 2 5 9 " , " p l a y e r L i s t " : [ " d e c a d e n c e " ] , " r o l l N u m b e r " : 0 , " c u r r e n t P l a y e r " : 0 , " d i c e " : { " f a c e s " : [ 0 , 0 , 0 , 0 , 0 ] , " r e r o l l " : [ t r u e , t r u e , t r u e , t r u e , t r u e ] } , " s c o r e 0 " : { " 1 " : n u l l , " 2 " : n u l l , " 3 " : n u l l , " 4 " : n u l l , " 5 " : n u l l , " 6 " : n u l l , " p l a y e r " : n u l l , " u p _ t o t a l " : n u l l , " b o n u s " : n u l l , " 3 k " : n u l l , " 4 k " : n u l l , " s s " : n u l l , " l s " : n u l l , " f h " : n u l l , " y a h _ t o k e n " : n u l l , " y " : n u l l , " c " : n u l l , " y a h _ b o n u s " : 0 , " b o t _ t o t a l " : n u l l , " g _ t o t a l " : n u l l } , " o w n e r " : " d e c a d e n c e " , " s t a t u s " : " r e a d y " , " r o u n d " : 0 , " l a s t P o s t " : 1 7 2 1 9 6 8 2 5 9 }

don't think i am freaky
but then i got caught up inna freaky happening

whatvam i doing?

Hello hello.
*Smiles*

*Smiling*
Are you freaky?

Living Room
Living||Dining
Fast Forwards til the wee hours

Some nights, the nightmares were merely bad. Some, like tonight, he'd wake to find bruises on his skin, from where he'd thrashed and whomped himself on the night table, or where nails had dug into skin deeply enough to break the skin of wherever he was gripping.

Lucky for him he's a fast healer. Easier to hide. It meant tonight, though, he isn't trying to wake Elodie for a bootie call. Then he'd have to explain.

So tonight, it's a bottle of whiskey, and his sketchbook on his lap. Staring at the empty page while he downs one glass, and then pours a second. Drinks that one too, before he puts pencil to paper.

There was little chance of further sleep tonight, but if he wanted even the smallest chance... well, he had to purge the images from his mind.

The view from his cot - bars on the left, the wall in front detailed in a way that comes of having seen that same view, so repetitively, you can see it with your eyes shut.

He can. See it with his eyes shut.

That night in the ER, his own hand covered in blood, a patient's blood, knife buried deep into the other man's skin - the horrific moment of realization that he hadn't wrestled the knife free, not really, just stabbed his patient. The sheer horror of it, in black and white - maybe he should pick up some colours of some kind.

No, the red didn't need to be red.

From one stabbing to another - the beautiful details of the tattoo a contrast with the wicked, make-shift shiv embedded in his arm. Another, in his gut - this was the dream, not reality - both hadn't happened at once. but the nightmares liked to elide them into one.

The nights were the dreams were less literal - trapped, alone, a cell that might be solitary, but not nearly so literal as the others.

One sketch, after another, after another. Truly, purging theme, as if it meant the dreams wouldn't return.

It never quite worked that way.

waves
while Kitara goes to do something