Duplicity IC Inbox

[fourthwalled]

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[fourthwalled]

Is it self-destructive if you can't die?

[notrosecolored]

Ask someone else. Though no one here can die for long.

[fourthwalled]

I'll ask Harley.
Apparently, she's a psychologist.
But she seems nearly as crazy as me...

[notrosecolored]

You're crazy?

...I think that's someone who was supposed to tattoo me. I think I may need a change of plan.

[fourthwalled]

She's good people! I meant crazy in a fun way!
Don't not see her because of that! I like her.

[Now he feels bad. Sorry, Harley, wherever you are.]

Wait. You're getting a tattoo?

[notrosecolored]

I was planning on it. Might need to switch to scarring or branding now. Why?

[fourthwalled]

Don't listen to me. I'm an idiot. I'm sure whatever she gives you will be good.

So what were you thinking? Tramp stamp? A little butterfly?

[notrosecolored]

Just an X

[fourthwalled]

Oh. I guess that would suit you.

[He was really hoping for a butterfly tramp stamp though...]

[notrosecolored]

I'm aware that I'm boring.

[fourthwalled]

At least tell me you're going to get it somewhere fun.

[notrosecolored]

No.

But if you ever want to make someone bleed, let me know. I have a productive way to put that to use, now.

[fourthwalled]

Someone you want stabbed, Scott?

[notrosecolored]

Are you evading or is this lapse into being oblivious coincidental.

[fourthwalled]

Coincidental.
Are you talking about giving people tattoos to make them bleed? Or something else?
I'm so confused right now.
And honestly, I was hoping I could stab someone. But that goes without saying.

[notrosecolored]

I'm saying if someone crazy's putting an X on me, it might as well be you and you can just cut me.

Meanwhile let me get Logan out of this citation alive and we can plan to start some shit. You stab someone, I'll knock something down.

[fourthwalled]

Okay. If that's what you want.

Ooooh, nice! Yes! I'll have to get my hands on some guns too. Maybe some plastic explosives. Those are always fun.

[notrosecolored]

...great, see what you can find. Meanwhile meet me in the kitchen. We have knives.

[ ...Look, it'll keep Wilson occupied for a while and will only maybe blow up the building. On second thought- ]

Actually maybe we should start with finding a place to rent to store anything explosive.

>action

[fourthwalled]

on my way.

[he rolls off his bed. and yes, they've apparently just been texting each other in opposite rooms. once he sees scott in the kitchen he keeps up the conversation while sliding open the cutlery drawer.]

Afraid I'm going to blow up the apartment?

[pause.]

Good call. I did blew up mine back home.

Re: >action

[notrosecolored]

[ Oh look, he's apparently going to play Chicken with Wilson now which means he's just getting cut by the guy. Because like hell he's not going to stay committed. ]

Small, sharp knife.

[ He peels his t-shirt off over his head, because he wants that in a boring location. ]

You'd better be good at straight lines. Yes, I'm worried about the apartment blowing up. How'd you manage that at 'home'?

cw: attempted suicide

[fourthwalled]

[Wilson meanwhile has zero idea that Scott is playing a game of chicken, so he's gonna get cut! His fingers glide over the knives thoughtfully, faltering on the cream cheese spreader. Thoughts of Vanessa well up and he quickly clamps them down. Nope.] I was going to do with a cleaver, but paring knife it is. [He pulls said knife out of the drawer and shuts it with a clink and rattle of silverware.

The question leaves him quiet, pretending to be simply taking a look at his potential canvas, starting with Scott's back.]

I filled my apartment up with barrels of gasoline and light a cigarette... then laid on top of them-- so back shoulder? Chest? What are we thinking?

Re: cw: attempted suicide

[notrosecolored]

[ Yeah, yeah. he didn't expect Wade to be home, much less to jump but whatever. He points to the front of his shoulder, sort of above his pec on the left. ]

About 3" by 3".

[ And. Also. ]

Why were you trying to die?

[ That one's actually a bit softer and more sympathetic sounding. Definitely not 'cyclops'.]

[fourthwalled]

Because I can't aim a cheese spreader.

[He answers evasively, coming around to his front, lifting the knife to the indicated spot. It stills just shy of skin. Shaking his head, voice quiet, he finally gives Scott a real answer.]

Vanessa. My fiancee. She got killed. Got caught in the crossfire of my stupid decisions...

[notrosecolored]

[ Oh, ouch.

He wishes he empathized with that, but he empathizes strongly and he's way less of a jerk than he thought he was because he sympathizes, too.

He doesn't say anything, though the reason he's still standing there while Wilson points a knife at him changes.

He reaches up, moves the knife slightly and then nods. ]

Right there.

[fourthwalled]

[It seems like Scott's not going to stop him, so he grasps Scott's shoulder tight with his free hand and presses in the knife, skin starting to split around the blade. He doesn't go too deep but needs to make sure it's enough depth to stick and scar properly once it heals. He starts to bring it down for the first strike of the X, concentrating and slow, not wanting to make a mistake.]