[Thread]
Who: Mello & Tetora
Where: Sextasy; Terra
When: Right before curfew
Summary: I don't know, Mello's high and Tetora just comes along
Rating: R; may change
Other: No
Mello promised Matt he’d keep straight for a while, but fuck it. The blonde was just way too fucked up to even keep his mouth away from the drug-inducing chemical known as E. A fucking bomb, party in his mouth, party in his head, fucking riots that swish of fleshy skull fluid and jump around on his brain like a demented circus. Fucking God-look-a-like hanging behind Sextasy said their cheap. And Mello knows that the cheaper they are the higher risk they have. So he got three, just incase.
It’s not like the blonde danced or anything - he didn’t dig the scene, no that’s not true. Eye-raping lights and guys his age placing their hands in girl’s underwear Nill’s age. Hey. That’s what it’s like; get a chick in a club for the 18+ and you can bend them backwards in the alleyway with a creepy Jesus-look-a-like sucking the top of a liquor bottle. Some guy walks past - hits Mello in the shoulder and muffles out ’sorry’ with a breath of paint thinner. Glorious shit, this was. At least when Mello was here, he didn’t think of himself as the lowest of the low.
His mangled bruised body made it’s way to one of the walls. Leather black cushioned seats that were all connected like a row of black paint and he sluggishly slumped down. A green-colored pill in-between leather-decked fingers found its way down his throat. E, it was a party drug, but more like a sedative for Mello; within a few minutes his head rolled against the wall behind him before dropping it downwards with a distasteful smirk and blonde bangs clinging to ever-constant damp flesh.
Where: Sextasy; Terra
When: Right before curfew
Summary: I don't know, Mello's high and Tetora just comes along
Rating: R; may change
Other: No
Mello promised Matt he’d keep straight for a while, but fuck it. The blonde was just way too fucked up to even keep his mouth away from the drug-inducing chemical known as E. A fucking bomb, party in his mouth, party in his head, fucking riots that swish of fleshy skull fluid and jump around on his brain like a demented circus. Fucking God-look-a-like hanging behind Sextasy said their cheap. And Mello knows that the cheaper they are the higher risk they have. So he got three, just incase.
It’s not like the blonde danced or anything - he didn’t dig the scene, no that’s not true. Eye-raping lights and guys his age placing their hands in girl’s underwear Nill’s age. Hey. That’s what it’s like; get a chick in a club for the 18+ and you can bend them backwards in the alleyway with a creepy Jesus-look-a-like sucking the top of a liquor bottle. Some guy walks past - hits Mello in the shoulder and muffles out ’sorry’ with a breath of paint thinner. Glorious shit, this was. At least when Mello was here, he didn’t think of himself as the lowest of the low.
His mangled bruised body made it’s way to one of the walls. Leather black cushioned seats that were all connected like a row of black paint and he sluggishly slumped down. A green-colored pill in-between leather-decked fingers found its way down his throat. E, it was a party drug, but more like a sedative for Mello; within a few minutes his head rolled against the wall behind him before dropping it downwards with a distasteful smirk and blonde bangs clinging to ever-constant damp flesh.