you weren't ever beautiful [reserved]

[trance]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,425,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][bg=000000] "I'm not going to hurt you; why are you always so afraid I'm going to hurt you?" Brennan gently ran a finger down the side of Trance's face--his lip trembled, and so did his muscles. He was resisting the urge to run, which was always so strong in the back of his mind. But he didn't. He stood standing, even as Brennan's fists knotted in his hair, even as the taller man pushed Trance sharply into a wall. He knew he could easily escape Brennan's hold; he knew, without a doubt, that it would be easy. Brennan had a height advantage, but Trance had broader shoulders and he was far stronger. He knew he could run. Why didn't he? Even as his master's lips crushed themselves against Trance's mouth, even as they shaped themselves to his own, even as Brennan clawed at Trance's nice dress shirt, tearing it onto the floor. "I'm not afraid," he said, but his voice trembled and broke, and then the words were lost in a kiss-- --"What's wrong with you!" Brennan snapped, turning so savagely and quickly on his heel that Trance had not expected it. His hand struck out, whipping violently across Trance's face. A throbbing pain followed, but Trance kept his stoic expression. "You don't touch your master. You do not reach out for my arm like I'm going to lead you somewhere? That's what your leash if for, dog!" Trance winced, raising a hand to rub at his face. "Now what are you doing? Stop being weak, dammit! I didn't ever teach you to be weak! Come on, shift; we're going out for the day." A nasty sneer curled on Brennan's lip. Trance didn't hesitate; he shifted. Only to receive a nasty kick in the ribs, and then have a collar and leash attached to his neck. "See? This is what you're supposed to do. Now. Heel, Trance." The memories were fresh and bitter. Trance's face was stiff from them; well, as stiff as it could be. His left eye was heavily bandaged from the injuries he'd sustained a few days prior. He'd already been, more or less, healed from the incident, but the bandages were kept in check. He still couldn't get over the fact he couldn't see out of his left eye anymore, that it was blind, even if it was still there. Last night he had looked in the mirror, only to discover that the eye was cloudy and paler then his right. It was... unfortunate. Trance raised a hand gingerly to his face, tracing the bandages that were there, knowing that in a few more days he would have to take them off without any excuse. “You're looking, right Adley?" Trance asked, his voice subdued. “For resources, I mean. That's what we came for. Remember?" He shrugged his shoulders. He wasn't allowed to go back to Scouting for a few more days as well, if only because of his injuries. And so he'd gotten stuck with that damn Tenderfoot again; doing Tenderfoot work. Scavenging for goods in a mall that was practically barren. “"

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[Deleted]

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[bg=02000e] Adley was lost in a surreal world of old merchandise. It was like stepping into a time machine and zipping back a few decades, back to the time when everyone had been obsessed with stuff. He was shifting through the display case of an old toy store, marveling at the sheer quantity of useless items. Americans really had been fools, at one point in time. He took an old toy dump truck down to look behind it, and a whole row of toys fell, most hitting him on the head before clattering to the ground. The Tenderfoot rubbed his head and frowned; that was the third time he’d done that today. If he wasn’t careful, he’d end up with a concussion. Adley shifted lazily through the fallen toys. As his hand brushed over a plastic rendition of a favorite action hero, he paused. The boy abandoned the dump truck and carefully picked up the action figure. It was dressed in obscenely loud colors and laden with what seemed like useless weapons: a giant lollipop sword, cowboy boots with marshmallows in place of spurs, and a licorice-lasso. It was an older version of a toy that Adley had played with as a child. He smiled—his first true, genuine smile in months. He turned it over and opened the back of it up, and there were no batteries, which he already knew. Trance’s voice brought Adley back to the present. He jammed the toy in his pocket and stood up hastily. Too hastily—his elbow caught on one of the shelves and the entire thing toppled over backwards. He frowned at it, then shrugged and climbed through the gaping hole in the window (the door to the shop was blocked by a ferocious plant). “What, really? Shoot. I thought I’d hit up Burberry and get myself a new jacket.” He spoke sarcastically, but not bitterly. In truth, he really didn’t mind going on Tenderfoot missions with Trance; he sort of liked the dog-shifter. But he was aware that the other didn’t want to be with him, that Trance wasn’t fond of the Tenderfoot who’d nearly caused his death. Adley, with his developing control-complex, wanted to make that his own idea. He would make sure that it was he who decided that Trance didn’t like him, not Trance. “But no, nothing in that store. Let’s go to the next one,” He said and started on his way to the next shop, a large department store full of empty hangers and tattered clothing. They weren’t going to find anything in there, which Adley knew. The store they were looking for was a little boutique called “Gloria’s Styles,” up on the second floor. Adley secretly planned to look in there last; he liked this simple job of searching through the mall. It was peaceful, and it was some of the easiest work he’d had all week. ooc; … is crap. XD and sorry if it gets a bit confusing >.< IT’S MORNING, am not functioning yet x’DD

[trance]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,425,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][bg=000000] Trance’s sharp glance towards Adley was somewhat exasperated; really, could he be any louder? The Scout knew that they didn’t have to be quiet, per se, but he kept imagining all the sorts of situations Adley could get himself stuck into from being so noisy. Trance chose to ignore the other’s sarcastic comment; partly because he didn’t know what it meant, and partly because he didn’t feel like putting in the effort to ask. Instead, Trance chose to speak with slight ridicule. “Do you really have to be so loud? … I’ve got a headache. Please be quieter? Which wasn’t entirely a lie. “Plus, what if we were in enemy territory? Or if there was another mountain lion lurking around—not that there is one, but still. The ‘what ifs’ keep you alive.” His expression wasn’t scornful, per se, but it was somewhat darker. Then he felt shame rising inside of him. This wasn’t how he was supposed to be acting. He could only imagine the look on Brennan’s face, if he saw Trance’s behavior; however, Trance didn’t have to imagine what Brennan would do. In fact, the sudden thought of pain was almost enough to make him wince. It would hurt, had Brennan been there. But he was not. He was not, and Trance was still slightly lost. What did a dog do without his master? The next store—a department one—didn’t look particularly promising. If anything, it was more barren then the last. He stared at it distastefully. “Alright, come on.” Trance walked in somewhat tentatively; but after a while, he began to relax. The store wasn’t completely empty, but everything inside of it was fairly useless at this point. When he heard a crash and a bang, Trance glanced sharply at Adley. “I thought I asked to be quiet… please?” (POST OF SUCK DX *dies*)

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