- Sadist - Criminal Kingpin - Alcoholic - Genius - Not an Asshole - //Mainblog for my OC Jackson Lyle. Semi-Hiatus. Don't be afraid to message me, I'm kind, I swear// - Penned by Orion (he/him) - Blog verses in construction - 18+ only - Personal blog [@blorbo-from-your-shows] - Consider donating to my Ko-Fi: ko-fi.com/jacksonflea
There’s such comedic power in punctuating a stupid command/threat with “boy.” “Look at my head, boy.” “Get grunkled, boy.” Are you Kratos? Are you a dom? Are you a 19th century coal tycoon? It’s so impactful
Important notes/comments on this post:
>“Don’t call black men ‘boy’ though.” (Always important to note, yes.)
>”I looooooooove being called ‘Boy’ please call me ‘boy’ and hold me down and **** my *** and ram me against a wall and ******* me in the *** and—”
>”I like being called ‘boy’ because it’s cute and gender-affirming.”
>”I called my partner/friend ‘boy’ without thinking one time and they were weirdly into it.”
>”IT’S ME, BOY, I’M THE PS5, SPEAKING TO YOU FROM—”
“Before I had intended them to die,” he clarified, rolling his eyes. He watched as Corinthian sat down before the plate on the table, picking up two glasses into which he poured a margarita, seemingly having all the ingredients needed despite being nowhere near the bar.
“Thank you dear” A flash of teeth before placing the two glasses on the table, one before the Nightmare, taking a large gulp from his own. He contemplated the food before him, considering the meal he had just made before finally electing to sit down. Eating was one of those things he only really did with other people which Corinthian didn’t really count as but he liked the Nightmare nontheless and decided eating was worth it.
“So, I’m curious Corinthian. Why have you come back? Or at least come to find little old me? Am I really that interesting, or is there an alternative motive?” His fork cut through the omlette, savouring the taste as he took a bite. It was unlikely he’d get a straight answer really, but there was no harm in asking and he truly was curious. He’d sent away his playthings and everything.
He stopped momentarily chopping his onions to glance over at the other, levelling him with the slightest of glares before his expression shifted into a one of scolding.
“Now now, Corinthian..” he tutted, as though speaking to a child, “..as much as I appreciate your need to have fun, my boys are not toys, they are useful tools, and I cannot have you so carelessly breaking them.” He gestured at him with his knife, turning back to face the chopping board. “Time is not endless for us mortals, I don’t like to waste it training and picking out people that are killed before their time.”
He didn’t mean that in a sentimental way either, he knew better than that, but he always knew he would die one day and he’d spent a lot of time curating the collection of people that worked for him.
His expression shifted again, the glint disappearing from his eye. “If you’ve touched any of my favourites though, I’ll find you some eternal torture. You know by now that I probably can.” Then he was smiling again, and it seemed as though he’d been cooking the whole time because moments later two plates of omelettes were on the table. “Do enjoy dear.”
He elected to make an omelette; a pan was on the stove seconds after Jackson entered the kitchen, joined quickly by the ingredients he would need for enough for the both of them. Mushrooms, spring onions, pesto, bacon, cheese all to go into the mixture, some tomatoes wouldn’t go amiss but he’d used the last of those earlier that evening. Turning on the hob, he set about making the food, barely having to look, completely at ease when cooking.
“Well I’ll hold you to that dear.” He smirked, passing closer by him than he needed to reach another cupboard filled with alcohol. Margaritas went well with omelettes he supposed.
“Yes, interesting, a Nightmare is bound to get up to some fascinating things, don’t you think?” His eyebrows raised at the reply and he couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. “You could have just asked my brother you know? He tends to at least know what city I’m in and I have a security detail following me within two days of going anywhere new which I presume he sorts out.”
The drinks were on the table and he passed back to the stove, wiping some blood of the countertop so he could prepare some more of the food. “But, if tracking me dealt you some fun then I won’t deny you that pleasure dear, more than happy to make things interesting.”
Jackson’s head turned to grin at him as he spoke and there was a slight glint in his eye one might say was almost predatory before he chuckled and turned back again.
Harder to annoy him than he thought then. That was fine, he’d find something to press into one day, for now he was having fun figuring it out, but people had a breaking point eventually.
His head lifted just a little bit as the hand traced his jawline, letting out a soft sigh only to roll his eye a moment later. “Do I have to make all the decisions? Don’t you know it’s so hard thinking dear?” A laugh as he took one more gulp from his whiskey and allowed Corinthian to pull him to his feet.
He didn’t yet know what the Nightmare liked to eat other than eyes so it would have to be a shot in the dark, but if he had any aversions to anything he simply wouldn’t eat it and whilst it would be rude to cook a guest a meal they didn’t like, he was getting tipsy enough not to care.
Jackson stepped carefully around the dead body, hopping over another one then gesturing for the other to follow him through to the kitchen. It was probably a bit of a mess after the gathering he’d just had but nothing unusable. “How have you been then dear? Seen anything interesting lately?
“Absolutely.” He grinned, not even bothering to deny the fact that watching the other man tear out this dead man’s eye pleased him. There was something so satisfying about the foreignness to it, the complete change in routine that he couldn’t help admire. Of course he knew the Nightmare was, well, a nightmare, he was bound to be different, but he could enjoy it nonetheless. Besides, knowing and experiencing were two completely different things.
“I’ll try to remember, but you’re quite forgettable dear and I’m not sure what you’d add” he teased. Was it the best idea to try and aggravate this being that had infinitely more power than him and also now knew most of his vulnerabilities thanks to the loss of his eye? Perhaps not. But he was bored and there were buttons in front of him he wanted to try and push.
His gaze remained fixed on Corinthian, following his approach until he was so close, blocking out the light above him. “People taste so much sweeter when they’re well fed.” A smirk before he leaned up, pecking him on the cheek and falling back down to the sofa. “So, what do you want to eat?”
🐝 * ― 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒.( random assortment of sentences that can but don’t have to be used for muses meeting each other for the first time. feel free to adjust to better fit your muses. )
❛ i know we only just met but i already feel like i’ve known you my whole life. ❜ ❛ umm, is this seat taken ? ❜ ❛ don’t be alarmed now but there’s someone following you. pretend you know me and come with me. i’ll get you somewhere safe. ❜ ❛ my friends ditched me here and now i could really use a ride home. ❜ ❛ i don’t think we’ve met yet but you looked like you needed someone to talk to. ❜ ❛ can you please pretend to be my boyfriend / girlfriend for a moment so my ex will leave me alone ? ❜ ❛ are you always this straightforward with strangers ? ❜ ❛ here, i noticed you lost this earlier. ❜ ❛ i’m sorry, i must’ve mistaken you for somebody else. ❜ ❛ so, what brings you here today ? ❜ ❛ hi, my name is [name]. it’s nice meeting you. ❜ ❛ you’re cute. how about i buy you a drink ? ❜ ❛ can’t you watch where you are going ?! ❜ ❛ i just moved into the apartment next to you, so i guess we’re gonna be neighbors now. ❜ ❛ oh god, you’re [name], aren’t you ? ❜ ❛ here, let me help you. ❜ ❛ is there a reasons you’re here on your own ? ❜ ❛ apparently we’re going to be working on this together now. ❜ ❛ you look like you could use a hand with that. ❜ ❛ what do people around here do to have some fun ? ❜ ❛ looks like this will take a while, huh ? ❜ ❛ oh god. please tell me you haven’t just heard me talk to myself. ❜ ❛ excuse me, i think i’m lost. ❜ ❛ i just wanted to say that i really like your outfit. ❜ ❛ do you come here often ? ❜ ❛ do you mind if i join you for a bit ? ❜ ❛ you looked lonely so i got you a drink. ❜ ❛ i don’t think we’ve met, i’m [name]. ❜ ❛ what the hell just happened there ? ❜ ❛ have you seen this anywhere ? i must’ve lost it. ❜ ❛ can i please use your phone ?i have to call someone to get me out of here. ❜ ❛ seems like we’re gonna be spending a lot of time together. ❜ ❛ come with me, and don’t ask any questions. it’s urgent. ❜ ❛ i heard strange noises coming from your apartment and just wanted to make sure everything is alright. ❜ ❛ i have a spare ticket, you wanna come in with me ? ❜ ❛ you don’t know me but will you be my date for tonight ? ❜ ❛ we’ve got some time to kill so why don’t you tell me a little about yourself ? ❜ ❛ i don’t usually just walk up to strangers but my friends set me up to it. ❜ ❛ i think our orders may have gotten mixed up. ❜ ❛ do i have something on my face or why do you keep looking at me like that ? ❜
The man hadn’t lived that interesting a life; somewhat of a dickhead who paraded around as though life owed him everything, but nothing very important until his encounter with Jackson. There were a few hours of psychological torture before he was let loose at the party for his guests to play with and for Jackson to watch.
A small gasp of what could only be called enjoyment left Jackson’s lips when the eyes were suddenly crunched down upon. His own working eye trailed Corinthian’s face, taking in the blood around his mouth with something of a hunger that he did his best to satiate. It would have no fun if he let all of those instincts out and it had been a while since he’d had some proper fun.
“Oh, every couple of months or so.” He shrugged, “If I’m honest dear, it’s rather a logistical nightmare finding people to kill, people willing to kill and people willing to kill as well as fuck, but it does keep my mind busy so whenever I start to bore I throw one of these things and have a bit of fun.” He didn’t really need to explain as far as that but he figured the Nightmare would be interested.
“Glad you could find yourself a meal here.” He smiled over at the other, taking another sip from the decanter before raising an eyebrow “how about I tempt you to another? Let me cook you something, hm?”
Whilst the Nightmare studied the dead man, Jackson studied him, eyes fixed on his being, running over skin and clothes, up to his face, engrossed and intrigued. One of his hands reached out to the side table, picking up a decanter of whiskey that was half full and taking a sip. He was already suitably tipsy from the party but he’d like to keep the buzz going.
“I’m a friend am I? Well I certainly am flattered dear.” His gaze travelled down his arm to his hand and the blade held in it, admiring it and watching closely as he carved into the skin, enjoying watching.
“As compared to all the fun I had with you?” He teased. If he was honest, that night with the Corinthian was the most interesting thing he’d encountered in the last decade at the very least.
“You been up to much lately dear? Or simply the same old.”
A click that echoes through the house alerts Jackson that the front door has been shut and locked behind the last alive guest, and so he sighs, stepping further into the room. He paused momentarily before flopping on a sofa he found to be the least dirty, pushing off a body with the sole of his shoe.
“Ah yes, I will write an invite to ‘The Corinthian’, attach it to a pigeon and let it find you, shall I?” He laughed, although he supposed if he wanted the other there, all he needed to do was carve a few people’s eyes out and leave the message with the police, he was sure that would work easily. If he was honest, it hadn’t crossed his mind, parties like this were commonplace to him so how was he to know the other might enjoy them too?
Besides, if Corinthian wanted to see him, he would find Jackson himself. And he had, which begged the question…
“So what brings you all the way to China dear? Just little ol’ me, or here on business again?”
It had been a while and Jackson had gotten a few new accessories; namely the tasteful black and red embroidered piece of leather that fit perfectly into the indent of his socket. With his one good eye, he gave the other an appraising look, not minding the smile, before shrugging and stepping to the side.
“I suppose you can come in dear, party was just finishing up anyway,” he knocked back his glass of champagne and gestured for the other to follow him inside, towards the rowdiness that was winding down a few rooms away. “What do I have to lose? Another eye?” He laughed, grinning as he walked along.
The eyepatch is a welcome sight. A beautiful adoration to Jackson’s face that pays homage to the Corinthian’s work. A constant reminder for the shorter man of what the Nightmare had done to him. Pride curls in the Corinthian’s gut.
With a smile as sharp as ever, the Nightmare inclines his head as Jackson steps aside to welcome the Major Arcana. Crossing the threshold, hands rest in his pockets as the killer purses it’s lips and draws it’s attention towards the ruckus radiating from an adjacent room.
A charismatic chuckle is drawn from the Nightmare’s lips when Jackson jokes about the possibility of losing another eye. The rich flavour of the one he has lost floating to the forefront of the Corinthian’s mind.
“Mmm, lucky for you, I already ate.” He muses as he follows after the other man.
His hand slipped into the pocket of his white linen trousers, guiding the other down the hall towards where the supposed party was “oh, well you certainly must tell me about it dear” he grinned, glancing back at him before turning into the the living room.
Beneath the mess a person could tell the room was mostly black and white before, but now there was mostly red, with a lot of other interesting colours mixed in. People laid sprawled out across the room, very few of them on the sofas, some high out of their minds and a few of them dead. Three people danced by the fire place, listening to rock music and a naked pair appeared from the doorway to a much darker place.
Pressing a button on his phone, Jackson stopped the music before clapping his hands. “Hope you people had a lovely evening, if you would just see yourself out, that would be brilliant, night.” He smiled with something of a predatory glint that had bodies moving fast past them until only the dead remained.
It had been a while and Jackson had gotten a few new accessories; namely the tasteful black and red embroidered piece of leather that fit perfectly into the indent of his socket. With his one good eye, he gave the other an appraising look, not minding the smile, before shrugging and stepping to the side.
“I suppose you can come in dear, party was just finishing up anyway,” he knocked back his glass of champagne and gestured for the other to follow him inside, towards the rowdiness that was winding down a few rooms away. “What do I have to lose? Another eye?” He laughed, grinning as he walked along.
Whether it’s the first interactions between the muses so the chemistry is still up in the air and it’s still unknown as to whether or not they’ll click before potential plotting, or the muses have too much minds of their own and run wild the moment you set them loose in a thread, plotting is hard and occasionally your pre-planned threads jump the track and go in totally different directions than anticipated thanks to the muses’ creative differences. Reblog this to let your rp partners know that you don’t mind simply jumping straight into in-character interactions and threads.
