Evan Hallow (skeleton_clock) wrote in purgatory_rpg,
Evan Hallow
skeleton_clock
purgatory_rpg

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Let Me Fuck My Drugs (Open)

Evan had had a fairly rough day of working. He hated when people looked at him strangely. It was so damned annoying, and rude too. They should just accept that there were people in the world different than them. Oh well, it really didn't matter to him what they thought. Just as long as they didn't voice it. And if they did, he'd say something smartassy back, but not really do anything. Maybe pray for their untimely death later. Or not. It was all dependant on how he felt later. He slipped on his headphones and turned on his iPod, blaring metal into his skull. As if he needed to be any more damaged. His body was aching again and he pulled over into an alley and pulled out a bottle of codiene. It was the only thing he felt safe carrying around anymore. He popped three into his mouth and swallowed them dry. Only a few more minutes and the throbbing in his body would cease. How lovely these chemicals were, making your body believe there's nothing to attack and mellow out. Turning back, he made his way down the sidewalk toward the clubs. There was a new one he wanted to try out. As he arrived, he flashed his driver's license and was allowed inside after beind patted down for weapons.

As soon as he stepped in, he was in heaven. Absolute bliss. The air was laden with the bluish haze of smoke and flashing with strobes that danced over the folding and refolding clouds around him. The heat was crawling along his deadened skin like something erotic and made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. The bass drumming in his ears made him stride more than walk toward the dance floor, his hips swaying lightly. He was in a pair of tight black leather shorts that were cut off right at the base of his ass. The waist line was done around his hips, making the actual leather covered area quite small. And it left nothing for the imagination. There was nothing covering his torso at all, exposing the necromancy symbol tattooed into his back. There was the closed bloom of a white rose tucked tightly into the front of his shorts. That was how he became interested. When they picked up his hint and took the rose from where it was.

As he reached the edge of the dancefloor, he skirted off to the side and pulled a small syringe out of a thigh pocket. He snapped the needle into place at the end and slid the point into the vein on the inside of his arm. Watching, he pressed the hammer down until the heroine within was gone and rushing through his system. He pulled out the needle and tossed it to the side. Even if someone did find it, for the records, he was dead. Sighing, he relaxed for a moment, feeling his heart pumping the blood through him. His head tilted back and he stared at the ceiling until the euphoria peeked it's head around the corner of his mind. That was the signal. He stepped onto the dance floor, working himself into a nice littlespot where he had room to move. He closed his eyes and locked his hands togetehr behind his head, his elbows in the air as he began twisting and writhing to the music. His red hair swirled around him as he was taken into the sea of sounds and feelings.
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