Brandon Sharpe || sᴛʀɪᴋᴇʀ (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sharpes) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
tushanshu_logs2013-02-16 06:31 am
sharpes) wrote in tushanshu_logs2013-02-16 06:31 am
teenaged dirt bags [open]
Characters: Brandon Sharpe and open
Date: Forward dated to Feb 23rd.
Location: Several stores and locations in Keeliai.
Situation: After a rather harrowing conversation, Brandon's basically been avoiding everyone and everything imaginable. But unfortunately for him, no one in Keeliai does grocery delivery services. Teenaged boys go through their food stash pretty handily.
Warnings/Rating: Ridiculously histrionic teenaged boy angst? Couple of thread-headers in the post itself for anyone who might want to run into him.
[He can admit that starving himself into a slow and wasting death is probably too dramatic. Even so, it takes him until the last box of weird Keeliai crackers to even think about going outside.
Showering is a process. He doesn't think about the last time this happened, when Steph had to come over and find him after the executions at the so-called 'Sacrificial Altar' just to help him shave. Now he doesn't even look in the mirror when he gets out of the shower, he just towel-dries his hair and leaves to get dressed, peach-fuzz be damned.
'Getting dressed' is also a process, albeit less of one than showering. He digs something out of his closet that has a hood that'll obscure his features enough, and then a pair of sunglasses. When he's finished he looks half like something that walked off the set of Hobo with a Shotgun and The Breakfast Club but all pretentions of vanity aside he really just doesn't care.
His hands are almost shaking when he opens the door. It's probably a combination of hunger or fatigue or something. He hasn't slept well since--
Yeah. He's just. Not going to think about that.]
Date: Forward dated to Feb 23rd.
Location: Several stores and locations in Keeliai.
Situation: After a rather harrowing conversation, Brandon's basically been avoiding everyone and everything imaginable. But unfortunately for him, no one in Keeliai does grocery delivery services. Teenaged boys go through their food stash pretty handily.
Warnings/Rating: Ridiculously histrionic teenaged boy angst? Couple of thread-headers in the post itself for anyone who might want to run into him.
[He can admit that starving himself into a slow and wasting death is probably too dramatic. Even so, it takes him until the last box of weird Keeliai crackers to even think about going outside.
Showering is a process. He doesn't think about the last time this happened, when Steph had to come over and find him after the executions at the so-called 'Sacrificial Altar' just to help him shave. Now he doesn't even look in the mirror when he gets out of the shower, he just towel-dries his hair and leaves to get dressed, peach-fuzz be damned.
'Getting dressed' is also a process, albeit less of one than showering. He digs something out of his closet that has a hood that'll obscure his features enough, and then a pair of sunglasses. When he's finished he looks half like something that walked off the set of Hobo with a Shotgun and The Breakfast Club but all pretentions of vanity aside he really just doesn't care.
His hands are almost shaking when he opens the door. It's probably a combination of hunger or fatigue or something. He hasn't slept well since--
Yeah. He's just. Not going to think about that.]
no subject
What he doesn't expect is to find Brandon looking like death warmed over.]
Kid? Are you alright?
no subject
Realistically, Clark and Rick are nothing alike. He knows that. Rick was a sleezeball who acted like a sleezeball and this Kent guy's a reporter who acts like a dweeb. But there's still something that makes him think about it - and his heart rate jumps. Clark probably knows what a fear reaction sounds like now, and this is definitely one of them.]
What do you even want?
[He means for it to come out aggressive, but instead it sounds... just kind of tired.]
no subject
But the kid is terrified of him, and he only checked if he was alright. He wants to help so badly but how can he when he's the one causing his distress to begin with?
He raises his hands up in surrender, making a little bit of his groceries fall down. Oops.]
Nothing! [He says as he reaches down to pick them up.] I was just- you looked sad, or angry, or both. I wanted to help.
no subject
I broke up with Steph. Still wanna help?
no subject
Nothing Superman can fix.]
I will try to help, if you will let me. May I ask what happened?
cw for self-directed sexuality slurs
And he doesn't.
But right then and there, he doesn't give a damn. He just wants to make somebody angry at him for what he did to Steph, for what he knows he deserves.]
I guess she didn't want to date a fag.
same warning applies
But he's still about to yell at him, clenching his fists so hard his knuckles get white. About to say 100 things he knows he would regret later because he's just a kid, Clark, what the hell are you even thinking yelling wouldn't get you anywhere.
He thinks of Maggie and the life she lost, the life she was forced to live, the daughter she isn't allowed to see because the authorities don't think a woman that likes other women should take care of a child. He isn't going to allow anybody to think less of people like her, not even a kid.]
Now boy, I am not going to allow-
[But then he stops, finger already lifted in a 'Pa is scolding you' way when the wheels of his head start turning. Brandon was dating Steph, wasn't he? She'd made that really clear in a certain post and from snippets Clark had heard they were actually doing quite well. 'She didn't want to date a fag'.
And it's so simple, when it hits him. And he feel sorry for him for exactly 3 seconds.]
Don't you ever call yourself that, ever again. I'm not sure what happened and you're... very brave for coming out but that doesn't give you the right to be so deprecating of so many people.
no subject
Or you'll what, exactly? Because if you think I give a shit about whether or not I've got your permission to say something, you're so far wrong you aren't even on the same planet. I'm not talking about other people. I'm talking about me. And I am so fucking sick of people dictating what I say I could choke on it.
no subject
Brandon... are you saying you're gay?
no subject
Obviously I'm the goddamned Easter Bunny.
[YES OF COURSE HE'S GAY, CLARK.]
no subject
Sorry, yes. You're gay. ...And Steph- [Was upset about the lying? Probably. She does sound upset to Clark right now, and Brandon's wording did imply that.] She didn't know.
no subject
[His words are clipped when he speaks, his heart rate still fluttering up and around 'adrenaline high'. He doesn't really look at Clark when he speaks, keeping his attention on pretty much anything else at hand. The floor is super fascinating at the moment.]
no subject
He doesn't want to go into lecture mode again, so no 'you shouldn't have lied to her' even if he does think about it. And it's obvious there's a lot more than what he knows in this so 'Why didn't you tell her she would have understood' is also forbidden, not to mention Clark is from Kansas but he isn't stupid. He knows what lying to hide what you are is.
So for a moment all he does is let out a sigh.]
You've gotten yourself into a huge mess, haven't you? Look... [He looks away scratching the back of his neck.] I know you don't particularly like me, but I'm hoping you aren't trying to go through this alone.
If you are, don't. My wife and I will be more than willing to listen to you, or simply seek a friend.
no subject
[UGH CLARK WHY DO YOU EVEN
And in a fit of childish pique, Brandon is just going to push past him and storm out of the store, all pursuits of groceries forgotten.]
no subject
Don't stay alone, Brandon. Not through this.
no subject