(no subject)

[cactusy]

1) Post your characters, one per comment
2) Go around with your characters and have them ask other characters questions-- anything goes!
3) Forced honesty time! Lying is impossible because of reasons
4) ICly discuss the confessions and revelations

Comments

cw: this is gross (i don't know a better way to say it)

[salamanca]

[ He hates that closed off expression more than anything, he hates not being able to read someone and he especially hates not being able to read someone right now.

That stupid little smile, that he hates even more than not being able to read Rust at all, that stupid little drawl — Lalo's nostrils flare with anger. He's smiling too but it's a hard, angry smile. His fists clench. There's rage dancing in his eyes, but there's something else too. Something wounded, something deeply humiliated. ]

Maybe if you don't wanna get asked questions about where your mouth has been, don't fucking insert yourself into conversations you're not part of. Seems easy enough to me. [ He snorts. Like he's cool and above it all. He is not above it all. The question makes his chest rise and expand rapidly, pushing out then collapsing back in. ]

With all due respect, Detective [ that is to say: none ] I think I threw up in my mouth a little. Go fuck yourself. [ He closes his eyes, tries to force himself not to answer, and resorts to Spanish when that fails. ] Si. Then maybe you'll finally shut up.

threadjacks all over the fuckin place

[cactusy]

FYI? Literally everybody knows what sí means.

WHOO

[salamanca]

[ He turns, if possible, redder. ] You don't think I know that? Not like I get any choice if I answer or not, chica. Might as well do what I can.

[aluminumandash]

[ He studies Lalo with with a kind of half-shrewd speculation, smirk deepening. Eyes shifty. At the same time he does look, really look, at the man's hands, his heaving chest.

Rust steps forward—not his usual rickety stride. Some saunter to it. He looks Lalo in the eye a long moment. ] How bad?

(cw: violence)

[salamanca]

[ Lalo's legs shake from the sheer force of will it takes him to hold his ground as Rust advances. To stay seated, not jump up and run. The saunter, the confidence, it makes Lalo both infuriated and also stirs thoughts he desperately pushes down.

A primal scream is echoing through his brain right now. He feels pure liquid disgust - for himself, for Rust - for letting it get this far. He can't let it go any further. The way Rust holds his gaze makes Lalo feel like Rust is staring into him, probing his soul.

Then comes the question. No sooner is it out of Rust's mouth than Lalo's temper and horror at what he's allowed to happen to him reach a boiling point.

He does jump up this time, and Lalo's uppercut connects with the underside of Rust's chin in one clean, sweeping motion. ]