shitglasses (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
shitglasses) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
bakerstreet2020-04-06 12:39 pm
shitglasses) wrote in bakerstreet2020-04-06 12:39 pm
Entry tags:
make some new cr. push some old cr in interesting places.
LIBRARY OF SECRETS
Maybe you're in a magical library, or maybe you're in a normal one, a bookshop, who knows. The wheres and whys are up to you. The important thing is this: you pull out a book.
Every book has a secret. So does every person. Pick a book up, and you'll find a secret within, and you'll find yourself compelled to follow a path only you can see, until you find the secret's holder. What a coincidence, they're in the same library, bookshop, cafe as you. Maybe it's fate.
In the end, you're left knowing something you shouldn't, about someone you're standing face-to-face with. What do you do?
- Post your character to the meme. Include at least one secret of theirs in the toplevel. No blanks!
- Respond in kind to those who tag you, and work out the embarrassment, anger, freedom or even joy that comes with your secret(s) being known.
- Tag around see what unfolds!
no subject
I'm good. [He fully intends to have a couple of broken fingers by the end of this. At least.] Have I told you you're fantastic?
[That's all he says before he picks up one of those TVs and sends it flying at a mirror. The noise it makes is fucking music to his ears.
There's a lot of rage after that, and time stretches nicely into punch kick scream slam and nothing else. Eventually he looks over at Isabel, in her own destructive throes.]
Did he beat you, too?
no subject
I wouldn't call it 'beating'.
[Which she realizes, yes, is a problematic way of answering. Thanks Doctor Phil.]
A backhand once or twice when he had a few too many glasses of scotch and I'd been a troublemaker, and him and mom had no problem with corporal punishment when we were young, but most of his focus was on Jack.
... Jack would hit me sometimes too, but only when insulting me wasn't getting the reaction he wanted.
[She huffs, and kicks the table hard enough to knock it the rest of the way over, before looking at Zuko finally, eyes alight with righteous anger.]
He killed my dog. Who the fuck does that?
no subject
Sounds like a fucking jackass.
[Zuko doesn't even realize that he's made a stupid pun, and punches down a filing cabinet, enjoying that he leaves a dent in the metal as it goes down.]
Sociopaths, probably? [Siblings torturing animals was unfortunately another common thing between them.] My sister made me watch her torture mice she caught. Dad just laughed when he found out.
[The thing about Azula, if Zuko had known enough about psychology to examine this, is that she never completely fit the definition of a sociopath. She was too calculated most of the time. She didn't have many issues with impulse control - or if she did, they were lapses that their father encouraged. Obviously there was a lot wrong with Azula, but their fucked childhood had so many influences on both of them that it was hard to tell where the PTSD ended and the personality began.
But he doesn't, so all he can say is what he does.]
no subject
Someone else would need a cigarette right now, but the hardest drug Isabel does is caffeine (admittedly a lot of it). She blames two parents and an ex boyfriend with substance abuse problems for that.]
What a bitch. Both of them.
[Technical definition correct or not, Isabel gets what he means. That particular brand of life ruiner who takes pleasure in the action. Honestly their reasons don't really matter, what matters is the results to the broken people left behind.
Not that Isabel likes to think of herself as broken.]
Fuck them. We're here, they aren't.
no subject
A decent substitute is beating the shit out of a bunch of things while screaming his head off.]
Yeah. [It doesn't sound triumphant, so much as resigned.
He slams a curled palm into a desk, and watches it splinter under the weight. He's not going to look at his hand, though, or the pain will kick in.]
Who the fuck even does that to their own goddamn kids? [Zuko gestures sharply, and if one hand goes towards his scar, well, that's Isabel's to puzzle out.] My own father...
[Any inclination to finish the thought disappears as Zuko puts his foot through a couch.]
no subject
Isabel doesn't know the words for that. It feels like if she's not making things worse on purpose, she's doing it accidentally. She's good at keeping angry, though. At keeping that fire going until there's nothing left to burn.
Men like their dads shouldn't have kids. Should have been fixed like the dogs they were so they didn't make more lives to fuck up.
All of Isabel's scars are on the inside. Can't have the kids looking anything less than perfect. Smile for the camera, Isabel, while he kills every beautiful thing he sees to prop it up like a trophy. Sometimes she thinks he wished he could have done that to her, because that's all he wanted her to do anyway, stand around and look pretty and enhance the family name.
She swings the tire iron down hard into an old boxy computer monitor, the spray of glass like fireworks exploding out of it.
Ultimately Zuko has better stamina than her, so she wears herself out faster, but she's not going to tell him to stop or slow down. Chilling back against a wall watching someone else on the warpath isn't AS satisfying as doing it yourself, but it's still got a vicious glee to it. She's got water bottles and a first aid kit sug up and ready whenever he burns out, too.]