won't you come and save me?

[connor delaney]

feed my eyes, can you
sew them shut? jesus
christ. deny your maker,
he who tries will be
wasted. oh, feed my
eyes. now you've sewn
them shut.

——————————

[/center]
Connor frowned inwardly as he wandered Holcommer's ground, desperate to find something to do before he hauled off and hit a wall. Again. He snorted a bit, rolling his eyes and running a hand through the dark, damp locks of his hair, ruffling it slightly. He hadn't had the time to do anything to it- thank god it was naturally straight, or he would've thrown a hissy fit until he got a flat iron. He would not be walking around looking like that one Jonas brother. Even the thought made him want to hurl, what makes you think he'd actually go without a flat iron if he had hair like that? He'd kill himself. Sure, natural curls on some people looked nice.. but he refused to sport anything other than stick straight, glossy black hair.

Twisting his lips to the side, Connor glanced at the fence surrounding the grounds, a wry smirk settling itself onto his lips as he imagined what happened to have that kind of security. And then he remembered. "Because they're dealing with insane little bastards like me, that's why.." Connor mumbled softly, tipping his head lightly and glancing at the fence again. He wondered briefly if it was an electric one, but it didn't really matter- he wasn't ghetto enough to climb a fence.. Actually, he was, he just didn't feel like getting electrified or breaking his neck. He moved back toward the building and let his fingertips brush against the brick, the rough stone against his skin making him both wince and give a slight smile.

"Somebody fuckin' shoot me," he said to himself, leaning against the brick and sliding down awkwardly until he sat on the ground. He pulled his shirt down and began to fiddle with his shoelaces, frowning again and sighing. This place was boring so far- despite all the crazies, no one had started a fight, caused a scene. It was depressing. Hell, back at home, when he'd still lived there, Davey had streaked through the house just to create some kind of trouble. "I can't believe I'm the Delaney here. That bastard's crazier than I am," he smirked to himself, resting his head back against the brick wall. He knew why. Davey was smart enough to not get caught- Connor was the 'bad child'. Psh. Yeah. And the sky was grey. Oh. Hey. It was.




word count; 409, minus codes & lyrics
comments; wooo. it's short, i know. v.v OH. and it's open, feel free to join. :]]
listening to; man in the box, alice in chains
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[Thorn]

'

You know, I know, we all fucking know. I wish you would just quit breaking all these fucking clocks!

' For three hours, Bob and Fred had been chattering and shrieking to Warren about the same subject, unrelenting in their anger at the man. You see, Warren had a terrible problem with breaking things that made noise. A clock had been put in his room the day before so to keep the room light and to keep the time. It was also the thirtieth clock that had been destroyed.

Warren hated the light as much as he hated noise bothering him. They bright green colour they people there had chosen as the glow didn't hide the matter that he hated light at night. So he'd taken a boot of his and smashed the clock to pieces. Though the voices in his head usually didn't freak about things like clocks, the two seemed to dislike the frequent smashing.

"Well, sorry about that. Next time you tell them to keep those mother fucking clocks out of my room!" Warren seethed through his gritted teeth. He shook his head and stood from where he'd taken a seat at against the cold brick wall of the building. He pulled a lighter quickly from his pocket and flicked it, a burst of flame floating joyously above the metal tip. The man grinned and put his hand over the fire. There was a sizzling noise and a circle of flesh pealed and burned away from his palm. A small bit of blood flowed down his wrist from the wound, but the flame quickly cauterized itself. He laughed at the pain.
Why did he laugh? He couldn't feel it. You see, Warren had a genetic disease to go with his mental one. He had CIPA, the genetic disorder where one could not feel pain, hot or cold, and many other things. He knew he was hurt, but he didn't care.

The man could almost visualize Fred, the voice of reason, rolling his eyes inside of his mind.
'Boy, you need to stop doing that. One of these days you may be seriously hurt!' Fred whispered into his mind. Warren rolled his eyes quickly, looking less than thrilled about the "quit playing with fire" speech.
The man, while rolling his eyes, caught a glimpse of another person, masculine, somewhat cute, though he was without the wounds and blood and rotting flesh that he so enjoyed. Warren stood up and pulled his long black duster around his body, pulling the black wolf-fur, though where he had found a coat lined with it was a wonder, lined hood over his startling eyes.

"Hey, you! Don't touch the fence, it's electrified!" he called in a huff, jogging over to the other male. He smiled, flashing teeth that had been filed down to wicked points.[/center]

[connor delaney]

feed my eyes, can you
sew them shut? jesus
christ. deny your maker,
he who tries will be
wasted. oh, feed my
eyes. now you've sewn
them shut.

——————————

[/center]
Connor was still glancing at the fence, wondering whether or not it was going to send however many volts through his tiny little body and kill him if he touched it, when he stood and wandered back over to it. The hair on the back of his neck rose and he bristled like a cat, taking a step back from it and scratching at the inside of his left forearm uneasily. His nails were short, but it didn't really mask the fact that tthey could still cause welts, which was exactly what he was doing- he hadn't even realized it until he looked down. "Fuck!" He cursed, looking at his forearm and crossing it over his stomach. He hated doing that shit, it seemed so petty to him, but he never could control everything he did when he got a little scared, or uneasy. At least he'd been smart enough to do it on the arm without his favorite tattoo.

"Hey, you! Don't touch the fence, it's electrified!" Connor jumped, bristling again and turning as he took a few steps away from the male jogging toward him. His eyes quickly analyzed the other guy's face for any hint of malice- he didn't exactly like the thought of being told the fence was electrified before being pushed into it- but when they fell on the bright white teeth filed to points, he stopped, almost shutting down, as he tipped his head to the side and let his face grow slightly blank in curiosity. His only thought was 'interesting' as he righted his head and twisted his lips to the side, one hand resting on his hip as he opened his mouth to speak. "Way to nearly get your eyes scratched out," he said half-heartedly, smirking a bit and beginning to move again. He hadn't really meant the threat, but he had no problem backing it up.

Obviously. I mean.. he was in a nuthouse.

"Thanks for the heads up, though," Connor said in a slightly testing mannerr, shifting to cross his arms over his stomach as he glanced toward the fence. He wasn't one to give thanks after someone nearly scared the piss right out of him, but he figured it was just as well, seeing as how he had only had a feeling that the fence was electrified. He didn't know. Now he did. So it was both a good and bad thing. He looked back at the guy in front of him and seeing barely anything except for the hood to the coat he was wearing and the bottom half of his face. And now he was curious again- damnit did he hate when people piqued his curiosity! Reaching up to tug at one of his lip rings, Connor felt the hair rise on the back of his neck again, cursing the fact that he still wasn't used to this place. It would be happening every ten fucking seconds until he got 'comfortable' in these surroundings, and oh, did it annoy the living hell out of him.




word count; 520, minus codes & lyrics
comments; yaaay. xD -petpet- whoaaa. o.o got a little carried away, sorry xD the ending died on me, though, i couldn't figure out how exactly to end it. o.O i'll edit if you need me to, just drop me a line. xD
listening to; heaven beside you, alice in chains <3 yes.. i'm addicted. x3
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[Thorn]

Warren gave the other man a look that could kill. It was the kind of look that was the calm before the storm, the look he gave before he struck out to kick the shit out of another human being. His eyes rolled back into his head for a moment, a gagging noise coming from his mouth. The young man dropped to his knees, hood falling back as it was caught on a breeze.

His amber eye slid shut, the black one staring wickedly at Connor, rage lurking there behind that eye. Warren's body moved, but it wasn't him that was looking out of that eye.
"Hey, mother fucker, I wouldn't of felt it anyways. Come on, pussy. Calm down or you're gonna find yourself six feet under with an inch of breath in your lungs." Bob snarled through him. Multiple personality disorder, such a fun thing. With Warren, it was like a Flotsam and Jetsam kind of thing from the Little Mermaid movie, one eye one personality, the other eye the other. At this moment, Bob was in full force.

Warren's eyes opened wide, the man blinking in confusion.
"Bob, don't talk like that, making him angry will only make Fred yell..." he whispered sharply, as if he were having an in-depth conversation with a real person. His black eye slid shut, the amber now in full gleam.
"I apologize for my words. I can get...testy when I haven't had a good meal and enough sleep." Fred chuckled, mentally screaming at Bob for snapping at the man in the first place. Both eyes were open, Warren back in place.

"Don't thank me, I might as well have told you. You're good looking." he said bluntly. The young man stood once more, walking over to the fence. He grabbed the fence and his muscles jerked and twitched crazily till he managed to let go. He dropped to the ground with a laugh, holding up his scorched and oozing hand.

[/center]

[connor delaney]

feed my eyes, can you
sew them shut? jesus
christ. deny your maker,
he who tries will be
wasted. oh, feed my
eyes. now you've sewn
them shut.

——————————

[/center]
Taking another step back as the other guy took a step forward, Connor pulled his lips back in a snarl as he heard the words, his hands forming into fists at his sides as he tried to calm himself down. He really didn't want to be put into isolation, but if this was how it was gonna be.. Tipping his head in an awkward manner, a soft pop slipped through the air and he righted his head once more as he started speaking. "Yeah, I really bet," he said, smirking sadistically and glaring toward the other guy. That was, until he spoke. "Bob, don't talk like that, making him angry will only make Fred yell..."

Okay, that was a change of pace.

Connor lost both the smirk and the pissed off attitude as the guy spoke again, confusion etching across his face. Was he really gonna ask? Yeah, he was. "...What the fuck?" he mumbled softly, tipping his head once more to the side like a curious puppy who'd been hit on the nose with a newspaper, adding, "Bob? Frank? Care to enunciate? Or am I having another delusion?" He actually was curious, even more so than before, and he hated that feeling- but hell, he'd been threatened one second, and now this guy was telling Bob to chill or Frank would yell? What the hell? Oh.. right.. nuthouse, he thought to himself, nodding a bit and glancing back toward the guy, who was beginning to speak again. "I apologize for my words. I can get...testy when I haven't had a good meal and enough sleep."

Connor's face very much so looked like the popular o.O smilie, an eyebrow raised as he twisted his lips to the side in thought. "Mhm.. well," he said lightly, putting emphasis on 'hm' and letting his features return back to normal, though still a bit wary, as he tugged the black tee shirt down over the waistline of his jeans. He was starting to become a bit more relaxed until the other guy spoke before moving toward the fence, and he bristled slightly once more as he let his eyes fly open in shock. "Holy Jesus Christ on a motherfucking Tuesday, what is wrong with you?!" he growled, actually slightly worried for this guy's wellbeing. Which was odd, in itself. "Do you want sedated or knocked out or whatever the hell they call it here? Because I think you're giving them the ammunition to do it," he added, feeling like a mother hen. When the hell did that start?




word count; 435, minus codes & lyrics
comments; sorry, it's kinda odd xD
listening to; bad girlfriend, theory of a deadman
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[Thorn]

Warren gave off a low growl as he glowered up at the man. He picked at his oozing hand, puss and blood dripping an easy line down the length of his arm from his palm. The young man flashed his wickedly sharp teeth, pulling out a lighter.
"I have CIPA. It means I can't feel pain. Why can't I beat myself up?" he growled like a kid who wasn't getting his way.

The man sat up and shook himself off, which tossed his shaggy hair into his face, the blood red tips gleaming in the light of the lighter. He grinned at Connor for a second.
"Want to touch?" he asked with a dry laugh, putting his hand directly over the flame, letting his flesh spit and sizzle like frying bacon. He flicked his tongue over the scorched flesh, lapping up the ooze as if it were some tastey treat.

"Oh! I'm Warren Voreign, by the way! This is Bob, and this is Fred. I think Fred is angry at you for calling him Frank." he said quickly. When mentioning Bob and Fred, he motioned to either side of his body, the side of his black eye, right, for Bob, and the side of his amber, left, for Fred.
"You must be new here. Do you have a gang? I got put into one, but I don't like it. I'm not a pyromaniac!" he snarled, suddenly angry. His amber eye slid shut, the black opening wide.

"Mother fucker is fucking new. Aww, poor little fucking bastard. Come on, you pussy, get over here. Try me out for size! I can take a dick like you out for a real nice spin." he laughed, writhing his hips in a nasty, suggestive way. He stood up, sliding over to him.
"I'm Bobby, did I mention I've got turrets, asshole?" he laughed, putting a nail that he had also sharpened to a point against Connor's throat. He blinked quickly, golden amber eye sliding open, black fluttering closed.

"I-I'm sorry! I didn't mean it! Here, let me get some of this dirt off of you. I'm Freddy. They say I have obsessive compulsive disorder, but no one really believes them." Fred laughed nervously, shifting a bit as he pat a spot of dust off of his shoulder. His eyes slid back open, both of them wide and confused.

"I think they like you." he said with a wide smile.[/font]

[connor delaney]

feed my eyes, can you
sew them shut? jesus
christ. deny your maker,
he who tries will be
wasted. oh, feed my
eyes. now you've sewn
them shut.

——————————

[/center]
"I have CIPA. It means I can't feel pain. Why can't I beat myself up?" Connor rolled his eyes slightly, glancing in an oddly curious manner as the guy pulled out a lighter. "Never said you couldn't," he said, shrugging and watching the lighter intensely. They'd taken his, as well as his cigarettes. Motherfuckers. Twisting his lips to the sidein a sarcastic manner as he heard the other guy speak again after burning his flesh with the lighter, Connor spoke, his eyebrows furrowed. "My mistake," he said, smirking a bit and adding, grinning sadistically and adding, "Connor. And just Connor." He tugged at his lip rings and felt his flesh tear a bit, pain rocketing through his lip for a moment as he paused and frowned, cracking his shoulder in annoyance at the fact he'd nearly pulled the ring out again.

"Sinner," he said simply, raising an eyebrow as he glanced upward at Warren, his height of five three kicking him in the ass. "Mother fucker is fucking new. Aww, poor little fucking bastard. Come on, you pussy, get over here. Try me out for size! I can take a dick like you out for a real nice spin." Connor smirked in another sadistic manner, holding his arms out from his body for a moment and speaking. "I'm right here," he said, his chin tipping upwards as a sharpened nail pressed itself firmly against his throat. "Tourettes? Really? I've got HSDD," Connor growled softly, taking a step back and feeling a small line of blood trickle from the tiny, bleeding indentation in the pale skin of his throat.

MPD had never been so fun.

Letting his fingers roll over the small wound, Connor glanced at the maroon stain before sticking his tongue out and licking it off, momentarily forgetting about Warren / Bob / Fred, whichever he happened to be at the moment, as he did so. It was better than going back inside and washing his hands, and the coppery substance was his own. Did it really matter? "I think they like you." "Really? I was under the impression that one wanted to fuck me, then maybe kill me, and the other one.. hell, I dunno, didn't really catch what the other one said," Connor said, motioning absently to his finger as he cleaned up a bit more of the blood and licked it right back off. What? He didn't want it on his shirt. It was white, goddamnit, and blood was a bitch to get out.




word count; 425, minus codes & lyrics
comments; LOL i didn't even realize i put frank. i thought i put fred. >.< damn i'm dumb. xD mneh, this reply isn't the best, sorry about that x3
listening to; no excuses, alice in chains
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[Thorn]

Warren cast covetous eyes over the lip ring. He narrowed his eyes, shifting ever so slightly. The man ran his tongue over his lips, eyes narrowing only slightly, shifting like a predator getting ready for the kill. Before he was able to move, his black eye squeezed tightly shut.
"You should be more careful with your rings. If you can rip them out so easily, who knows what else you might do?" Fred laughed softly, weakly with worried eyes.

The man flipped his hair back over his shoulder, eyes changing once again. The amber coloured eye slid shut as the black opened.
"So you can't get off? Poor mother fucking bastard. Ah, wait! Not mother fucking, fine, what the hell ever. You little shit. A Sinner? What kind of fucking shit is that? We get the kick in the ass to Flash and you get fucking Sinner!? We've got more fucking problems than you do, asshole!" Bob snarled, eyes narrowed and gleaming with rage and vicious intent. He rushed forward suddenly, tongue running over Connor's skin, right over the bloody little wound he'd created. He shuddered, eyes filling with lust.
"You fucking with me that you've got HSDD? I hope so, not having a dick like you to throw around'd be a sad day in Hell." he purred out.

Warren's eyes fluttered open, a blush crawling up his neck and touching his cheeks. The man bounced back several feet, his pale skin now the colour of ripe cherries.
"Yeah, but that doesn't mean that they don't like you. You'd be dead right now if they weren't." he murmured softly, looking down nervously. He swallowed hard, sitting down on the ground, his rare and expensive coat getting covered in powdery brown dirt.

---

(Sorry for the short posts. Usually do better than this, but I'm in the hospital practically on my death bed, so...yeeaaahhhh)

[/size]

[connor delaney]

feed my eyes, can you
sew them shut? jesus
christ. deny your maker,
he who tries will be
wasted. oh, feed my
eyes. now you've sewn
them shut.

——————————

[/center]
"You should be more careful with your rings. If you can rip them out so easily, who knows what else you might do?" Connor grinned a bit, another sadistic glint showing in his eyes. "What do you think I'll do?" He asked, raising an eyebrow and tugging at the silver ring lightly in a bit of curiosity. "I've ripped them out before," He added mindlessly, shrugging a bit and glancing Warren up and down momentarily as he did so. He realized that tin speaking he sounded like a "self harmer". Psh. Bullshit. He was as much a "self harmer" as he was straight, and we all know that wasn't happening anytime soon. He was as far from straight as a guy could get, although that didn't mean he didn't find women pretty.. He just wouldn't touch them.

"Watch it!" He growled, narrowing his eyes. He couldn't help it- he got defensive over his dick. "Hypoactive Sexual Desire Disorder, not Erectile Disfunction. To quote those damn doctors, 'Recurring sexual fantasies and the desire for sexual activity'. I sound like a pedo, don't I?" Connor added with a wicked smirk, laughing a bit as he heard the rest of the man's sentence. "I bet, it's not like I even belong here anyway," He shrugged, his head thrown to the side as the other man rushed forward and ran his tongue along the side of Connor's neck were the wound was. "You fucking with me that you've got HSDD? I hope so, not having a dick like you to throw around'd be a sad day in Hell." "Again.. my dick works fine. If anything, it works too fucking well; if I had ED I'd fucking off myself," he said, grinning in that odd little way he had and taking a half-step backward.

Connor couldn't help but burst into laughter as Warren almost bounded away from him, the maroon color of his cheeks making him give a soft 'awh'. What? The short psycho thought it was cute in an odd way, but it wasn't exactly an odd notion- hello, he was in a fucking nuthouse. He thought someone getting the fuck knocked out of them was cute, too. Or maybe Connor's version of 'cute' differed from everyone else's- that seemed more likely. "Yeah, but that doesn't mean that they don't like you. You'd be dead right now if they weren't." "Do I come off as the helpless midget or something?" he said, mostly to himself, as he scrunched his nose up in distaste, a blank look crossing his face as he had to look down slightly to see that Warren had sat. He hated being short sometimes.




word count; 466, minus codes & lyrics
comments; there's no worries, take as long as you need. D: hospitals suck, i'm sorry you've gotta be in one. >.<
listening to; fallen angels, ra
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[Thorn]

Warren blushed at his words, his gaze trailing up and down Connor in almost the same manner as he looked him over. The average sized male shifted uncomfortably, thinking the situation was growing a bit too tense for his liking. His odd eyes met Connor's, smile creeping to touch his lips. He flashed those sharp teeth once more as his amber eye slid shut.

"ED? Then maybe I can get lucky after all. Come here babe, let papa take care of 'ya." Bobby laughed. He moved back towards him, running his tongue over those sharp teeth.
"Eh, who cares what you have. Yeah, you're short, who gives a fucking shit? I don't! Not helpless, but shot, hell yeah. But don't worry. I like my guys tiny and tight." he almost purred out. Bob wrapped his arms around Connor's waist, giving him a growl that was as close to realistic as a human could get.

The amber eye opened up, Fred blinking at him and jumping away once more.
"I don't think that we are cute, sir." he said sternly, a sharp nailed finger tsking the other male. He shook his dark head with a sigh.
"Even if you do look good, please, stay away from us. You aren't trustworthy." the young man spat out, on the verge of heated anger.

Warren was back in those eyes soon enough, the blush coming back. He looked down Connor's body once more, settling over his groin for a few moments too long.
"I-I don't think you should stay away. I like you a lot." he choked out sheepishly, looking embarrassed for the thoughts in his head.

[/center]

[connor delaney]

feed my eyes, can you
sew them shut? jesus
christ. deny your maker,
he who tries will be
wasted. oh, feed my
eyes. now you've sewn
them shut.

——————————

[/center]
Connor grinned a bit, his hazel eyes flashing as he instinctively took a step back from the other male and pushed his hair out of his eyes, his eyebrows raised as he poised his hands on his hips. "Tiny? Psh, just because I'm short doesn't mean I'm tiny," he smirked, taking advantage of the closeness and letting his index finger trail lightly along the waistline of Warren's jeans with a small laugh. "It just means I don't have to duck as much," he added almost seductively with a raised eyebrow, cackling a bit as he slipped out of Warren's grasp just as the other male moved back again. "Even if you do look good, please, stay away from us. You aren't trustworthy."

Rage glowed in Connor's eyes momentarily as he tipped his head and once again touched the wound on his neck to see if it had stopped bleeding. It had, as far as he could tell, and he pulled the bit of clotted blood from the small wound to let it bleed again. Why, he wasn't quite sure, but he'd always done it. "I'm not trustworthy? I don't think you're very trustworthy, you've been here longer than I have!" He said, his teeth bared momentarily in an animalistic snarl, though it disappeared after a moment. It wasn't worth it. It was pretty much a losing battle, fighting a voice in someone else's head.

"I-I don't think you should stay away. I like you a lot." Smirking again, Connor followed Warren's gaze straight to his groin as he spoke, shaking his head lightly and laughing. "Somehow I don't think it's me you like," he said, raising an eyebrow again as he licked his slightly dried out lips and pulled his jeans upward by the belt loops. They'd taken his belt, for Christ's sake! It was almost as if they were begging him to screw somebody, it was pretty damn pathetic. Or maybe they just wanted to make sure that the didn't strangle someone with it.. that made more sense, didn't it?




word count; 366, minus codes & lyrics
comments; bah. colds + nyquil + 2.30 am posts = a nearly dead laz. xD i fail.
listening to; indestructible, disturbed
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