twenty-five ➢ private + spam

[patheticvillain]

private } chris

Hey.

private } vesper

sorry i scared you

spam } open. eeeeesh.

[Cassel spends the weekend and the first couple of days after Elena's outed pretty much just hiding in his room. He'll open the door to some people right away, some after a little persuasion, and completely ignore others.]

[After that, he starts picking up his shifts in the gym again, although he tends not to do much looking people in the eye. He can also be found scuttling away from social interaction in the dining hall.]

Comments

[Private]

[mistconduct]

A lot. The guys in prison, the media, my Twitter followers..

[Private]

[patheticvillain]

Yuh-huh. I mean people here, smartass.

[Private]

[mistconduct]

...A few.

It'd go easier if my boyfriend went along with it.

[Private]

[patheticvillain]

What, you want me to make a public announcement? "My name is Cassel Sharpe and I endorse this alias"?

[Private]

[mistconduct]

Well, it wouldn't hurt..

[Private]

[patheticvillain]

I'll consider it.

[Private]

[mistconduct]

That's what I like to hear.

[Private]

[patheticvillain]

You're lucky I like you.

Maybe I'll make posters.

[Private]

[mistconduct]

Do you even know how to art, Cassel?

[Private]

[patheticvillain]

Well, I was gonna just print out signs in Comic Sans with no pictures or color. To define your brand.

[Private]

[mistconduct]

Oh, fuck you very much.

[Private]

[patheticvillain]

Orrrr you can make the posters and I can be your copier.

[Private]

[mistconduct]

I dunno, I'd feel a little weird using you for my Xerox machine.

[Private]

[patheticvillain]

But I can be your ad campaign?

[Private]

[mistconduct]

Well, people give respect to their campaigners. Less so to a Xerox machine.

[Private]

[patheticvillain]

I think you'd be pretty respectful of me even if I was a Xerox machine.

But I can always just hang 'em if it bothers you that much.

[Private]

[mistconduct]

I'll wait until I'm back in the costume. It's not the complete picture without it.

[Private]

[patheticvillain]

Fair enough. [Just gonna trust his judgment on that one.]

Hey. Did your mom, did she get a funeral?

[Private]

[mistconduct]

Yeah. But I was on the run at the time, I couldn't go.

[Private]

[patheticvillain]

That's bullshit.

We could have a little memorial if you want. When you get back on your - whatever.

[Private]

[mistconduct]

...I dunno, I mean. I was kind of a shit to my mom, towards the end.

[Private]

[patheticvillain]

I'm being a shit to mine right now just being here. Doesn't mean I can't still mourn her.

[Private]

[mistconduct]

Yeah, but my mom wasn't a Class A manipulator.

[Private]

[patheticvillain]

Tell me?

[Private]

[mistconduct]

Tell you what? She wasn't really. I didn't.


It sounds stupid as fuck because I lived with her for eighteen years, but I didn't really...know her all that well. I mean. Once Dad died, that was the longest we'd ever spent alone in each other's company before. And we didn't really get along.

At all.

It was fucked up.