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MAD MAX.

@STHRNHOSTILITY

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 oc. mvrp. mdni.
Joined January 2021
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࣪ (@estusbot) profile picture࣪@estusbot18 May 2023
it's too late to kill the people who made me , but I can take it out on you .
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music.apple.com/us/album/one…
One Piece at a Time by Johnny Cash on Apple Music

One Piece at a Time by Johnny Cash on Apple Music

Song · 1976 · Duration 4:01

music.apple.com
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Bony frame curled up real small in the diner booth. Fork poking at a soggy mess of pancakes & mushed up strawberries. Plate of red-brown slop. Reminds her of the someone she hosed down the drain this morning.
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Best part’s that nobody cares. Could stand right up and say she’s the reason the university’s got a curfew and rent-a-cop security guards and an ever-growing memorial in the main office. Wouldn’t one person care. Real pro of the world goin’ to shit.
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music.apple.com/us/album/net…
Nettles by Ethel Cain on Apple Music

Nettles by Ethel Cain on Apple Music

Song · 2025 · Duration 8:03

music.apple.com
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Ain’t so great.
MR. HAPPY (@timeoutroom) profile pictureMR. HAPPY@timeoutroomJul 24
You haven't even seen this show.
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Ashing her cigarette in one of the empty eye sockets of a used-to-be low level telekinetic. Disgusting. Hardly worth the ash. Thing couldn’t even save itself with its powers. Just worthless.
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Chain smoking.
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Grief so pungent it turns her stomach. Feeling particularly unmoored. That’s everyone else’s problem to deal with.
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music.apple.com/us/album/net…
Nettles by Ethel Cain on Apple Music

Nettles by Ethel Cain on Apple Music

Song · 2025 · Duration 8:03

music.apple.com
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Maybe she should be more nervous about a factory reset Cain. She’s seen what he can do. Couldn’t have wrangled him if she had to when he had his mind. That switch could flip any second now, and she’d wind up in a hole somewhere. Got to play this smart. He’s nothing but a >
? (@ForensicFixer) profile picture?@ForensicFixerJul 1
He cringes at his own lack of confidence in his name —- sure that she may think he’s lying. That he’s here to take advantage of a woman alone. But she doesn’t seem to be afraid of him, which is a bit concerning. Is she just that naive? He gives her another smile »
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more replies
< again. She don’t want that neither. He’s 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴. It’s his name on her hip. No one else’s. He’s part of her, stupid as he may be. She ain’t turning him loose ‘til she’s dead. She returns to him, offering up a nice tall glass of sweet tea. “Sorry if’n y’take it with lemon. >
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< M’fresh out. Ain’t been able t’make it up t’the store for a bit.”
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Her jaw sets at that, at the lie. They’ve played this game before, but it wasn’t so one sided. They were lying to each other because they 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘸 they were lying. He’s lying now because he doesn’t know better. Fuzzy eyebrows push together in barely restrained rage. Itching >
? (@ForensicFixer) profile picture?@ForensicFixerJun 30
“No it’s no trouble ... um.” His hands slide into his pockets as he ventures further into the home .. brows furrowing at all the dry, dead trinkets. He isn’t disturbed persay, he thinks. He looks back over his shoulder, realizing she’d asked for his name. He blanks. »
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< all over with irritation. Only a fleeting break in the act. She’s got the fake smile on again in a second. “If’n y’say so, Caleb. Be just a second on’at tea. Y’go on n’get comfy. Y’look like you was out’ere n’at heat for awhile.” She says, shooing him towards the couch >
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< with her bony fingers before she disappears into the kitchen. Got to figure out the ratio of sedatives for his body weight. Account for taste too.
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“Y’mean’at, baby? You’s a godsend, I think.” She cracks a disarming, easy smile at him. Watching as he passes through the threshold into her place. Their place. Whatever. It’s the same sort or organized chaos it was when he still lived here. Dried animal skulls and small >
? (@ForensicFixer) profile picture?@ForensicFixerJun 30
“I could probably fix that ... if you have some tools, or something.” He knows violence, he knows war, he knows working with his hands. He could fix a few creaky steps —- he just can’t fix the fissures in his own mind. The man steps inside after she opens the door, »
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< taxidermied critters here and there. Old loveseat sofa facing a less than modern television. While he’s taking all that in, she’s locking the door near silently behind them. “Y’go on n’make y’self comfortable, alright? Won’t take me but a minute t’fix ya a glass. Maybe >
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< t’find’em tools, too. If y’swear it ain’t no trouble, mister?” Prompting him for his name. Does he even remember that?
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