wait in the fire

/  let them play piano together?

/  :ppp   on brucieeee

i can get rid of it.    it’s psychological,  a nerves thing in the brain — i can fix your brain.

ID :    dent,    @ohbunnys 
            
            y...    um.    wh-what?    i-i d—

yes,  but —    *a pause,  a quiet sigh.  she undid the ribbon,  then began to (carefully) remove the wrapping paper.*    i didn’t get you anything.  i feel bad.

ID :    reva,    @nemeseias 
            
            ...    but i b—    bought it for you.

i’d feel bad,  love.

ID :    ???,    @bludexploit 
            
            pr-probably.    ( ... )    y'gonna t—    um,    tell me where i am,    or—?

you don’t know where you’re at?  do you have a concussion or something? 

ID :    ???,    @bludexploit 
            
            i-i d—    sorry.    i w...    'm—    um.    ( ... )    whe—    where am i?

@prodiqal    /    is somebody gonna match my tweak

/⠀smirk emoji

/     nod

ID :    ???,    @thatsallin 
            
            *    what's his name?    christ,    oz doesn't know if he should lie or tell the truth or some unknown third option buried in his stomach.    he swallows the lump in his throat,    watching the end of his cigarette burn.    *    ... oz.    *    it's not technically a lie—    a nickname that hasn't been used in years is still something he'll respond to.    that's all a name is,    after all.    *    liv—    livin'    here?    i-i j...    um.    just m-moved here fr—    from an e-even    /bigger/,    um,    shit hole,    s-so...    's n—    not too bad.    yet.    ( ... )    y-you?

@prodiqal,     [and she’s quiet now.  only watching him,  it could almost be considered as judgmental by the way she watches as he handles the cigarette,  not to mention how awkward he was.  WAS EVERYONE IN GOTHAM THIS ECCENTRIC?  WHILE EVERYONE CERTAINLY WERE STRANGE,  HE TOOK THE CAKE.  for now at least.]    what’s your name?    [the cigarette’s offered,  noticing the search for a lighter which has an amused smile cross her lips.  taking out her own cigarette, held in — between her fingers before reaching over,  a small grunt leaving as she’s leaning in.  unbothered by their proximity,  and out of convenience has the end of the cigar press to his.  lighting it finally,  and then she pulls away as quick as she leaned forward.]    you like livin’ here in this shit can?  seems miserable.  including the people.

ID :    ???,    @thatsallin 
            
            y...    yeah.    please.    *    a nod,    &    a notch is added on to a mental tally of all the cigarettes he owes to different people—    it's upwards of a hundred now,    he thinks.    maybe two hundred.    whatever it is,    regardless of if said cigarette was smoked immediately or shoved in to the bottomless pit of his pockets,    oz doesn't think he should add another to the list.    still,    he takes the offered cig with a quiet word of gratitude,    sticking it between his lips    &    searchi!g for a light.    *

/   late asf but pls 

ID.  @prodiqal 
            
            * ╱╱  yes pls

*    Shits myself 

ID :    falcone,    @falconephobic 
            
            ...    f-fuck s—    okay.    how m...    how much are th—    are his,    th-then...?

truthfully ?    dead.    i can’t have some loser skimming off the boss ..⠀ you understand.

ID :    falcone,    @falconephobic 
            
            yeah,    b—    those're m...    more expensive.    d'y—    d'you know where he is?

why the fuck do you think /i/ am?  do you know anything about me,  oz?  anything at all?

ID :    reva,    @nemeseias 
            
            j-jesus c—    i lie bec—    because i    /have/    to.    why th-the fuck d'you th...    why d'you think    'm in gotham?

because you’re a liar.  and if you hid that from me,  if you /tried/ to hide that from me,  what else are you lying about?

ID :    kristanova,    @mindangst 
            
            how'd you f—    th-this is m—    /my/    ap-apartment!