Masks That Cover Nothing

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Thomas McTavish

Thomas McTavish

Absent, forgotten god
Original poster
FOLKLORE MEMBER
Invitation Status
Posting Speed
  1. 1-3 posts per week
  2. Slow As Molasses
Online Availability
Quite often
Writing Levels
  1. Intermediate
  2. Adept
  3. Advanced
Preferred Character Gender
  1. Primarily Prefer Male
Genres
Dark Fantasy, Fantasy, Zombie, slice-of-life survival, Post Apocalyptic, Cyberpunk, Sci-fi, High Fantasy, Modern, medieval
And then there's this asshole.

Look at him. Walking down the street, keeping his head low, walking fast, offering a polite but fake nod to anyone he is unfortunate enough to make eye contact with. Headphones in, music loud, hood up, jacket zipped. Walking with single-minded determination that indicates he just wants to get home as fast as possible, and stay there alone and uninterrupted. People everywhere around him, moving in a montage as the structured noises in his ears drown out the sounds of daily life about the city. A left turn and another three blocks. Three flights of stairs, two doors over and he's home.

If you could call it that. Place is probably a dump, just like he left it. Never has time or energy to fix it, and if he did he never has people over enough to care. Chinese takeout boxes, old chairs, thick curtains that block all light when closed. Laptop powered on with a blank word doc still up from the last time he tried to start his book. Works at a record store, lives like a college student, aspires to be a writer. Lives a perfectly normal life, for modern standards.

Except, of course, for the large amount of explosives in the back room.

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This is an RP similar to what I have heard about Slice of Life type RPs. Everyone has secrets, some stranger than others. Maybe you're depressed, maybe you're an addict, maybe you kill people, maybe you secretly plot to destroy the city you live in. We all keep our secrets hidden from the world, our pain and monsters just behind our face screaming bloody murder to bee let out. We all hide things. We all have masks that cover nothing, yet hide a million secrets.
The characters are those people.
Remember, no rule-breaking, and have fun!
 
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She did not dare to look back for a second time. With tears in her eyes blurring her sight she started the car and hit the road gaining speed every second. She did not know how often she had to move, she felt like having already explored every european city or village. It was so fucking annoying, but still safe. Safety, the most important thing. Which city would she visit next? Surely she would need a new name. After all this years she felt like already having forgot her real name and her real personality. At least you are the person you perform, you pretend to be. "Claire," she mumbled. Claire was a nice name, ... like her sister.
 
A man, nearing his 30's, walked down a busy sidewalk at an unhurried pace. He offered an easy greeting and a smile to those he knew, and even those he didn't know. At one of the crosswalks he readily engaged a stranger in friendly conversation and both parted with a chuckle, going about their business. To those around him, he seemed to be a fairly cheerful person. He was someone you could talk to about your problems and he would listen, giving you the chance to vent.

These people failed to notice that he rarely talked of things that might be troubling him. He rarely let it show through when he was troubled, after all. Even on the worst of days he could muster up a fake smile and march on. If they really looked into his blue eyes they would see a tired man looking back at them. It was not the kind of weariness that sleep could cure. There was a weight on his shoulders and it was crushing him, slowly but surely.

As he drew closer to the brownstone he lived in, he let his right hand slip into an inner pocket of his dark brow, leather duster. His fingertips lightly brushed the cool metal of the pistol he had just picked up no more than an hour ago. Once he got home he would eat one final meal, nothing really special, just a pepperoni pizza, listen to a few of his favorite tunes, and maybe watch one of his favorite movies a final time. Then, well... then he would put himself to rest.
 
A Bright Smile,A Worried Tone,And An Answer Of Assurance.

"Im Okay!Dont Worry About It! Everything's Fine!" Adrianna assured her Aunt with enthusiasm who was asking her the same question again.
Her Aunt frowned,as if she was going to ask another question again,but decided not to voice it out loud.

But it was still clear: the Words 'Are You Really Sure?' was left in the air.
with one last smile,Adrianna turned her heel and seeked comfort on her own bedroom. she locked the door and sanked to the floor.

It was then only at that moment,her masked shattered and cold tears began to fall.
Adrianna mourned,she mourned for the death of her parents,she mourned for the life that it could have been,and most importantly,she mourned for herself.

Masks we're there to hide people from their true feelings afterall...
 
She smiled sweetly at the old lady, slowly pushing the wheelchair the elderly woman occupied. "Now Mrs. Beauford, it's time to go back to your room," she cooed, her smile unwavering. Mrs. Beauford gave a short, dry chuckle and waved her bony wrist. "You're right, Sam. Thank you for the extra long walk today," the old lady turned back and gave Sam a warm smile. Brushing a strand of earthen hair from her face, Sam didn't let her expression break. Not even for a second.

With a vicious growl, Sam tugged back and to the right with all her might. Between her thighs her victim ceased his writhing and only gave a final, pathetic twitch. "Not as much of a man as you thought you were, huh, sugar?" she cooed between breathless gasps. He probably went a little too far with his disposition of his latest carnal exploits, but that's the kind of man she was into. She just loved to see that look of bravado slowly turn into one of her more preferred expressions: rage, fear or pain. Sam only seemed to 'date' men with prior convictions as well. As she raised herself from the man's back, she reached up and tucked her hair behind her ears. She let her fingers caress her jaw until one slender finger reached her lips. Sam wiped a trickle of blood from the curled corner of her mouth, stared at it for a second, then sucked the blood cleanly off. Alright, that's enough community service for today. I think I'll stop for a chili dog on the way home, she thought calmly to herself. She brushed the dirt off her knees and straightened out her pencil skirt. With a final check, she deemed herself proper enough and carried on with a bit of pep in her step.

Her smiled never faded. Not even for a second.
 
"You do understand why I've done this, don't you sweetheart?" She looked down at the bruises littering her arms, felt the throbbing pain in her chest and back.
No, Alice thought mournfully. She would never quite understand why he hurt her. Never understand what she had done in her 13 short years of life to deserve this.
Even so, her head nodded in affirmation. He seemed pleased, leaned down to kiss her forehead before leaving.
The tears did not fall until she heard the front door close behind him. There weren't many however; Alice feared she was getting to the point where she just didn't have any tears left to cry.
She wiped her face and forced her aching body up from the floor. She had chores to do, knowing a dirty house would not help his mood when he returned home. Why he didn't just hire a maid was beyond her. They lived in a nice enough area and he certainly made enough money, but she figured he just enjoyed making her work. Much like he seemed to enjoy her pain and suffering.

Alice moved about the house, cleaning as she went. When she felt the place was sufficiently clean(and suddenly too suffocating), Alice grabbed a hoodie to hide the bruises and pulled it over her head before exiting the house. She began to walk, no real destination in mind. Just anywhere was better then that house... Along the way she bumped into a man wearing a dark brown duster.
"Sorry, sorry! I'm so sorry!" She flinched violently away, used to such a mistake resulting in a heavy hand striking her. Then she realized how silly she was being. He was the only one who ever hit her when she had an accident. Regular people didn't do that. Alice quickly schooled herself, trying to relax in a more natural position before she looked up at the man. It was only then that she recognized him as her neighbor. The man had always been friendly but Alice had never learned his name. "Oh it's you. Sorry about that, I just... wasn't watching where I was going." She grinned sheepishly up at the man though she noticed he seemed a bit off today. He looked tired. Not the sort of 'work all day' tired. More like her kind of 'I want to give up' tired. She could sympathize.

(Eep child abuse D: Always wanted to explore darker themes though :p Interacting with Seth Bloodmoon's character)
 
When the hoodie wearing girl bumped into him, he took a step backwards, quickly withdrawing his hand from the inner pocket that held the pistol. He blinked a little as she flinched away in such a violent manner. It almost made him think of a dog that knew it had just done something wrong. This made him frown a tiny bit, but he waved off her apology, "It's alright, really. No harm, no foul," offering a half-hearted smile with those words.

As she seemed to relax some, he raised his left hand behind his head, scratching at the back of his neck. He recognized her, but didn't really know her. While he was friendly, he had mostly kept to himself where his neighbors were concerned. Those he truly considered friends lived some distance away. As she grinned in a sheepish manner, he allowed another smile to tug at the corners of his mouth, "Really, it's alright. I wasn't exactly paying attention to where I was going, either," chuckling a little. It was true, he had been lost in his own thoughts. Pondering over what would be his final moments. All he needed to do was get back to the privacy of his home.
 
He looked at the city from his rooftop vantage point. Something about being this high up made him feel safe, like he was to tall to be seen by everyone else. He then looked over to his victim, a girl he had drugged and dragged to the top of the school. Oh how he hated her, she constantly went around like she was the queen of the school, making demands of everybody. He couldn't contain his excitement, here he was a little nobody about to kill the most popular girl in the school. The minute her eyes started to flutter open he kicked her body off the roof of the building. The sound she made when she landed ammussed him, but he had to make a hasty retreat before he could be caught, and when he was in the clear he would go home and study for the upcoming math test.
 
"Thanks." She smiled lightly, then flushed. She was thanking him for not getting angry at her, but she couldn't possibly say that without appearing weird.
He was being very pleasant about it though, not even seeming the slightest bit annoyed with her antics. Alice couldn't remember why she had never bothered to get his name. He was the sort of person that made her feel comfortable without even trying and she barely knew him.
Yet he was just as nice as he had always been. Alice noticed his smile didn't quite reach his eyes though. Perhaps he'd had a hard day. Well so had she...
Maybe they could help each other?
Alice's eye fell to the ground, she lightly scuffed her gym shoe against the concrete of the sidewalk as she began to murmur out a proposition. "I-I was planning to go to the park... He- my dad I mean, says I shouldn't really go alone." She always had trouble referring to that man as her father, but the man before her would not know who she was speaking of otherwise.
"Maybe you'd want to come with me? Just for a little while?" She uttered the words so quickly she was afraid he wouldn't understand her and perhaps ask her to repeat herself.
Alice was mortified really, ashamed that she was so desperate to be around an adult who didn't make her afraid. She blushed furiously, keeping her eyes on the ground.
Worse come to worse, she could just run and forget they'd ever spoken. It'd be less embarrassing for her if she ignored him as usual when they crossed paths again.
 
Adrianna walked down the street with no clear destination on her head,Her eyes were red from crying and she dint want her aunt to find her crying again. or in this vulnerable state of hers.

Adrianna tugged her scraf,as the cold wind passed by her. Soon,She ended up in a park, where she sat on a bench all alone,staring at the crystal pond before her. letting her thoughts wander afar.

People came and go,pigeons flew around,the trees danced when the cold wind passed them.

Deep inside her heart,Adrianna wished she could find somebody like her. getting courage behind a mask.
 
The ghost of a smile remained upon his face as he nodded in response to her thanks. On a better day that smile would have been far more believable. As he drew closer to his planned end, however, the will to put a real effort into maintaining his 'mask' was lacking. Somehow, despite the grim plan he had for this day, he still remained an amicable person. It was just second nature for him, unless someone had truly wronged him.

When the girl's gaze dropped to the sidewalk, he glanced towards his home. A part of him was impatient to reach his destination, even if that didn't show outwardly. When she spoke, his blue eyed gaze returned to her as he arched a brow. It was understandable that her father wouldn't want her going to the park alone, the city could be a dangerous place after all. Then her quickly asked question caught him by surprise. Thus there was a moment of, likely, uncomfortable silence as he scratched at the back of his neck again, glancing towards his home.

His first instinct was to kindly decline. While they were neighbors, and even recognized each other, they didn't really know one another. The words almost left his mouth, yet they didn't. Maybe, just maybe, a part of him wanted something to delay what he was determined to do. What could it hurt, really? Finally, he broke his silence, "I suppose I could go with you..," letting his hand fall back to his side, "So you don't get into trouble," offering a half-smile with those words, "Just lead the way."
 
He awoke to a loud knock on the door. A knock of urgency. He got up, and wiped the tears from his eyes. Apparently he had been crying in his sleep again. Stretching and yawning, he opened the door a crack, stopped by the chain latch.

"Hm? What?"
"Ye rent's two days overdue. Pay it by Wednesday or It'll be extra."
"I got the money, Just waitaminute."

He shut the door, and retrieved the small envelope from his table, reopened the door, and handed it to his Irish-Scottish landlady who owned the apartment building he lived in.

"Ye've been cryin in ye sleep again, 'ave ye? I can see it in ye eyes. Same nightmare about ye mum?"
"Yeah, yeah. I just... need to stop taking naps in the middle of the day, is all."
"Aright, then, ye 'ave good'n."
"You, too, Catherine."

He shut the door again and listened to her footsteps fade into the distance. He hoped that bitch dropped dead. He would've blown her up, by now, but for the police would have checked his apartment and found the explosives. Prison is not fun, he learned that from his uncle.
Sure that the woman had gone away, he decided to go for a walk in the park. A walk that took minutes seemed to pass in seconds and as he realized his surroundings he realized he was in the park, on the path between a girl on a bench and the clear waters of the pond. Shutting his music off, he removed his headphones and sat next to her, staring at the pond.
 
Bickering, bickering, bickering.

It was like some faulty fuse, on again, off again, searching for some light in the shadows, pawing around, almost there... Ah! Yes---

And it was gone. There was some struggle, some balance between one and the other, light and dark, as if the contrast was infinite, because Lord knows there was never a combination of the two. Lord knows she was blissfully oblivious, and all this bickering in the back of hear head, she wasn't aware of it. It was always one or the other, and she didn't even consciously choose what face she would wear. They decided it; she didn't even know.

Her appearance never really changed. No dramatic changes in clothing, no changes in features, she wasn't some God damn shapeshifter.

But you'd know, you'd know from the glint in her eye that someone else was running the show.

Estel had seen a decline in the amount of friends she had, after elementary school. She could never really pinpoint why. Her parents were thrilled to have her leave the house at a particularly early age, though she used to know them to have a near helicopter grade of attachment. All her co-workers seemed to shy away from her--- before she lost her job.

And she was still completely oblivious. Having two people in one body can be rather frightening.
 
After an hour or so of sitting in silence broken only by the wind rustling through the trees and birds trilling merrily, he decided to get up and leave. He wandered aimlessly around the park, looking for someone to talk to, to feel at least somewhat normal with. He despised most people, but a few were ok. There were a few decent people in this godforsaken town worth not blowing to smithereens. He searched for them, sometimes, to restore his faith in people.

Hopefully one was roaming the park as he was.
 
Estel happened to be roaming herself, her eyes soft and doe-like. She clutched a book in her hand and shivered at the breeze that bit at the tips of her ears; her muted blonde hair was not long enough to cover them. The girl watched the people around her; she had always liked people watching, and well, just, watching.

And then, she saw him. It seemed she he might have seen her too, but something about his stark appearance distinguished him from the hoards of bustle, and she was suddenly very curious although she wasn't very confrontational. However, something about this man shifted something inside her. She stood up straighter, her eyes hardened, and she tossed her stupid book in the bag on her shoulder.

This one liked to have her hands free. That man, she saw him, and she knew she wanted him. There was no stopping her now. Estel marched directly over the man she'd just found so intriguing, and gave him a leering smile as she entered the proper proximity for such a jester.

"Now, what do we have here?"
 
Lost in thought, the man jumped when he heard a voice, hidden from his peripherals by his hood. "I could ask the same of you." he replied to the woman, turning to face her. She looked strong. It must have been something in her eyes. "What brings a little thing like yourself to a place like this?" he asked, sparking conversation. Hopefully this woman would be one of the decent people in the city. If not, he'd say good day and move on. No point in wasting life on wasted lives.
 
"Little? Psh," Estel paused for a moment, wavering at the question of what exactly did bring her here, but she pushed it off, as she always did.
'Must have some minor short term memory thing.'
"Mm, just thought that since I didn't have anything better to do, might pick up something here. Nice day out, yeah, cold but nice, thought I'd find something just as nice for something more... Something less trivial."
Estel barked a strange laugh, hints of it forced.
"I find I'm running out of interesting things, interesting people. Gotta entertain myself somehow."
 
"I suppose you have a point. This place does get boring." he said, shifting his weight into a more comfortable position. "What kind of entertainment do you have in mind, exactly? Everyone has their tastes- some more devious than others." said the man, removing his hood and running his hand through his mid-length, brown hair. Of course, he was referring to his hobby of blowing things up, but the phrase could be taken more than one way. He wondered where she would take it.
 
Estel shifted her weight as well, in thought, biting her lip. She then smirked at him, eyes daringly playful.
"I'm open to suggestions. See what we can find to play with?"
Her dark green, murky eyes went a shade darker, and she chuckled. "I think we could find quite a few things, in a few different venues," Estel trailed a finger down his chest in a suggestive matter, but didn't mean it to construe anything overtly sexual. She was just being, well, suggestive. She raised her eyebrows, "I'm thinking you might know a place?"
Estel was excited for the things he might bring her.
 
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