DISSENSION -> Pumped Up Kicks

 
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 Pumped Up Kicks, RJ / Random Highway
25 | MACUSA | Grindelwaldian
Eli
Auror, Death Squad Boston, MA Single Played by MIX
shipper dragots 5000
He shouldn't be here. This was a waste of his time and a stupid idea.

Elijah cracked his neck, stretched his arms out, kicked a rock. An hour had passed. Maybe two. There was no light save for what little the moon could spare. The vast length of the route fifty highway lay before him, mostly deserted.

He couldn't be this desperate. She couldn't be this late.

Waiting was never something Elijah did for anyone. Not even her. Yet here he was, in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by nothing but desert, doing exactly just that. Waiting. He leached his fingers into a fist, grinding loose rubble into sand.

His shoulder was throbbing incessantly and the pain that came with it permeated throughout his body in numbing waves. He grit his teeth, his temper spiking from both the pain and his rapidly ebbing patience.

He'd left her a message and it made him cringe just thinking about it. One would say he was out of his damn mind, too consumed by the realization of just how fucked up things had gotten to be considered sensible.

That last bottle of whiskey probably hadn't helped with his decision making.

I need you. Meet me at 50.

Don't.

He plucked the empty bottle off the ground and flipped it over before smashing it against the asphalt with a satisfying crack. Something hot and wet began dripping from his palms.

A part of him didn't want her to see him like this show up.

The rest of him didn't want to care.

TAG @REAGAN CAVANAUGH

Mar 15 2018, 09:16 AM
25 | Fringe | Anarchists
R.J.
Coroner, Informant Whitefish, Montana Single Played by Shawna
shipper dragots 4500

Elijah's message was unexpected. It had been seven years since she had last seen him, let alone spoken to him. Meet me at 50, he wrote. Indicating the place they had drunkenly wound up one night as kids, so far from home, it was like an alternate world. Desert that stripped away any semblance of who they wanted to be, and instead showed them as who they really were.

Her work was unfocused. The basement lab, with no windows, offered no indication of time passing as the sun went down, but Reagan had been eyeing the clock all afternoon. Her recent escapades to the NSPS took her away from the examining table too much for her to leave work early, too.

Amongst the corpses, she thought about how much had changed since graduation. How much he didn't know. They used to be so close - the dynamic duo that had a knack for bending rules and not living up to their potential. Month after month he broke her out of her jail cell, never questioning if she was doing the wrong thing. She listened as he told her his tragedies. They had been there for each other, then, suddenly, he was gone.

When she finally made it out of the hospital, the slivered moon was high and the night was quiet. When she apparated to their little stretch of highway, the night was silent and the stars shone brightest.

She leaned against the signpost, a weathered black and white '50' that had been their only indicator of where they had ended up. She watched him. She couldn't tell if he was bored or frustrated, maybe it was a bit of both. He smashed a bottle on the pavement, shards of glass exploding outwards, and she waited.

TAG @ELIJAH WOLFE
Mar 19 2018, 12:23 PM
25 | MACUSA | Grindelwaldian
Eli
Auror, Death Squad Boston, MA Single Played by MIX
shipper dragots 5000
The silence was broken by an approaching vehicle and its engine roared like an avalanche as it sped past the highway. Smoke billowed after it like a tail before dissipating into the darkness.

It nearly ran into him. An inch or two shy from ramming against his body.

He didn't seem to notice as he focused on something else entirely.

Elijah was as still as stone, crimson droplets pooling into the cement by his shoes.

Slowly, he turned towards the general direction of the signpost, his expression unreadable. The white paint stood out against the pitch blackness of the sky, patches of rust marring its surface.

"How long were you going to make me wait?" His voice was a hoarse whisper, the words slurring together at the ends.

But he was sure she could hear him.

Intoxication couldn't stop him from recognizing her face. Or the kind of electricity he felt whenever she was close. It was like a sixth sense how he could pick her off a crowd with his eyes closed.

Reagan.

He held the broken end of the bottle up towards her, unable to make it seem threatening when it slipped off his damp fingers and clattered noisily against the road.

"Reagan," he said out loud. Her name echoed in his head, making it throb. Every word was like a hammer to his chest. He didn't recognize guilt. To him, it was just the alcohol taking its toll.

"You showed."

TAG @REAGAN CAVANAUGH

Mar 23 2018, 08:31 AM
25 | Fringe | Anarchists
R.J.
Coroner, Informant Whitefish, Montana Single Played by Shawna
shipper dragots 4500
It took a car nearly grinding him into the pavement for him to turn her way and notice her pale skin and blonde hair glowing in the starlight. She tried to get a good look at him, but he was wavering, unable to stand upright, alcohol coursing through his lean frame.

He said something to her, a whisper to the desert sand that was gone before she could hear it. The bottle in his hand was held as a threat, and she tried not to laugh at him. No part of him was dangerous to her, but it seemed to her that he was quickly finding his way towards hurting himself.

You showed. But barely. Tired mind behind tired eyes, Reagan wondered if she should have ignored his message - let him wonder about her for once. But the pull of old friendship was strong. They had been through everything together. And she could always just leave.

"You drunk?" was her response. It had been almost eight years, and this was the first time Elijah had contacted her. She was vaguely aware that he had gone to Russia, but she didn't know what for or if he was even still alive after all these years.

To say she was bitter would be an understatement.

TAG @ELIJAH WOLFE
Mar 26 2018, 11:40 PM
25 | MACUSA | Grindelwaldian
Eli
Auror, Death Squad Boston, MA Single Played by MIX
shipper dragots 5000
You drunk?

She stood at the other side of the road, a pale willowy figure in the midst of a barren wasteland. Roughly twelve feet away, a stone's throw from where he was standing. Glowing, almost, in the darkness.

She was painful to look at, but he didn't let himself look away.

Instead, he crouched down and propped his elbows against his knees, tousled hair falling messily over his face as he bowed his head and licked his dry lips.

He was seventeen again; long-limbed and reckless, a beacon of laughter and trouble and life, still growing into his frame, still falling into place. Confused. Dazed. Angry.

A little drunk.

"Not enough," he answered with a shrug, wincing slightly as the mundane gesture brought about another wave of pain cascading down the length of his body. He pressed his bleeding palm into the sand.

He hadn't thought this through.

Elijah had prepared himself for every possibility but this. He never actually thought she would show up and now that she was there it was hard for him to articulate any kind of coherent thought. It was easier being in a state of suppressed panic when he was alone.

So he did what he always did and played it by ear.

"Did you miss me?" A lopsided smile, his body swaying forward and backward in a rocking motion that looked too unstable to last. His breathing hitched midsentence and his grin widened by a fraction. "You haven't changed a bit."

A lie.

He wondered for a moment if she'd buy it.

TAG @REAGAN CAVANAUGH

Apr 10 2018, 01:38 AM
25 | Fringe | Anarchists
R.J.
Coroner, Informant Whitefish, Montana Single Played by Shawna
shipper dragots 4500

He was a pitiful sight. He rocked back and forth, digging his broken palm in the dirt. Was he trying to get an infection? You haven't changed a bit. It was hard not to roll her eyes at the night. He was one to talk. He still looked like a kid - like he didn't trust himself enough to be alone with his thoughts without a bottle of liquor to ease the emotions he didn't know how to name.

"You don't know a thing about me, Eli," she answered, the strong tone of disappointment heavy in her words. How much had changed in the years that had walled up between them? The girl he once knew had long ago stepped down to make way for the woman she had become. Gone was the girl who just wanted to be free; the woman - the stranger - that stood before him needed to fight.

She figured he would try to argue, to defend himself. Say something he thought was meaningful, remind her of some passing moment from when they were teenagers. As if that would be proof that he knew her.

TAG @ELIJAH WOLFE

May 4 2018, 01:01 PM
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