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Grey Isles

"Don't test me."

202 views · last seen in In the Middle of Nowhere
a character in “The Kids Aren't Alright”, as played by Diane_Young

Description

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"Your market value, your resurrection. Your shallow concept. Help yourself, I hope you choke and die. I know you meant it, nice fucking disguise so hollow. Embrace the burn, you bleed just like you puke while running a mile."

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Inspiration for Grey

Full Name
Greyson E. Isles
Nicknames
"Call me Grey. Seriously, fuck that other shit people call me."
Grey
Age
"Forever young, baby."
Twenty
Hometown
Mojave Desert
Face Claim
Matthew Healy


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Eye Color
Chocolate Brown
Hair Color
Black hair, sides are shorter hair, but not necessarily buzzed. A haircut comes around every once in a while, but Grey isn't going out of his way for that shit. He has better things to do.
Body Type
Grey isn't the most physically fit person, and not by weight. He's literally just skin and bone. He's a mess, really. His idea of a good diet is barely eating, and when he does eat, he can't finish a single meal because he's not used to eating. He doesn't really have time for taking care of himself. I mean really, there's better things to do. Even if not eating all the time could potentially put him in the hospital, it hasn't happened yet so whatever.
Piercings or Tattoos
Tattoos? All over the fucking place. Arms, chest, hips. Check, check, check. Piercings? Not really into them. He could care less about piercings because what little money he has to spend on things that make him look pretty goes straight to tattoos. If it didn't already go to fun things already.
Scars
A couple old scars from deep cuts he's gotten, no big deal really. He's got one small scar on the top of his thumb, just below where the fingernail starts. He had been messing around with a cigarette once and wondered what it was like to brand himself... so curiosity got the best of him.



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Personality

Greyson doesn't take no for an answer. And honestly, he just doesn't fucking care what anyone has to say. If he has an idea on his mind, he's going to go through with it. Even if it's stupid. Grey's idea of a 'fun time' is holding at least one person at gun point and watching them beg for their lives. He will fight for what he wants, even if it means that someone is getting hurt. The company of any drugs he can get his hands on and booze make his adventures just that much more thrilling. And by just that much more, Grey can get extremely reckless.

He thinks he's the shit. He is the shit.

Although it takes a lot for him to actually give a shit, Greyson has another side to him. A side that's not always about going out and partying and causing another scene. He's actually rather smart. No. Extremely smart. Although he barely finished high-school with good grades, he is absolutely brilliant. And a borderline bookworm.

There's a very select few that can see the side of him where he actually does care, and when he does care about someone, he will do anything for that person. As long as they don't betray his trust. Once they cross the line, he won't hesitate to completely destroy that person, by any means necessary.




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Growing up in a two bedroom trailer wasn't originally a shitty thing for Grey. However, as his time spent in school, going over to friend's houses for playdates and all that bullshit, made him realize that living where he did was frowned upon. Even cringed at. Aside from the constant bullying about his living situations, he didn't really care. And his parents were never on his bad side.

Grey's parents did everything they could to give him a good upbringing. His parents just simply could never make enough money to do anything for Greyson that was beyond regular measures. They could feed him, clothe him, and provide him with a semi-decent place to stay. Even when he would receive grades that were far below average, his parents just tried to motivate him.

There's no explanation to where his 'I don't care' attitude came from, or his sadistic aspects either. And frankly, the way he turned out in general was just off. His parents thought that he was just going through phases when he was 13-14. But as time continued, and he was attending school completely hammered or high on some sort of over-the-counter pills, his parents sent him to the hospital for help. He spent 6 months in rehab, having pills shoved down his throat daily.

Upon his return at first, he acted more like a normal child. However, the more time he was out of the hospital, the worse he got. He never once disrespected his parents until they brought up sending him back to the hospital at 18. That's when he held his mother at gunpoint. From that point on, his parents started to lose hope in him. They feared him in general, but it was always plastered on their faces just how hopeless they were. This didn't help Greyson with his own issues, rather, it just added fuel to the fire.

Seeing his parents miserable sent Greyson to find ways to making them happy. However, his ways of doing this just made matters worse. Robbing stores, stealing food, mastering picking pockets for extra cash. At age 19 his father took his own life from his inability to make his wife happy again, and attempting to make her not fear their son. At that point, Greyson and his mother had a small moment of connection where he committed to making amends to their relationship.

His habits made it almost impossible to do, so he managed to pull himself together enough that he can act like a normal son at home (that is, with leaving out all the little details). Now, at 20, Greyson is so lost in his carefree life and lack of morals that he's lost hope in himself. Enough that he's managed to lock away a few emotions here and there, resulting in a slight bipolar II disorder to compliment is sadistic and careless tendencies.

So begins...

Grey Isles's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Buffy Halloway Character Portrait: Avery Weelan Character Portrait: Andrew Shepherd Character Portrait: Grey Isles
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Summer in the Mojave was like living in hell, far to hot and desolate. That though, only meant the parties were rougher, because there weren't any police stations for miles, just desert. Then there was the factor that you got to wear less clothing, which had always been Buffy's favorite part. Her outfits, wasn't as perfect as it had been when she'd left the night before, but that was expected.

A cool breeze caught a few strands of her long dark hair the fell messily around her face, her black pumps dangling from her fingers as she walked along the road towards the trailer park, she'd been walking for the past hour. Bryant the guy she'd left the party had dropped her off in the middle of nowhere after they'd fucked. Not because he'd particularly wanted to, but because she didn't want him knowing where she lived. He had to be at least six years older then her, based on his tattoos and his experience between her legs.

Just like every other guy she'd ever slept with, he had fallen for her quickly and he promised her things she knew he couldn't give her. He begged her to leave with him, her wasn't from around there. She thought about it, she'd had the chance some many times before with an array of handsome tattooed bad boys. She'd never taken it though and she knew deep down it was because she was terrified of leaving the only place she'd ever known and the fact that even if she left her brother and father would find her. She'd never been the type to run from her problems.

The sun had barely started to turn the morning sky the pink, orange color of early morning. She sighed as she got to the trailer park walking to her trailer and desperately hoping her brother Tony and her father were still asleep. Thankfully she managed to slip into the window of her bedroom that was a lot more like a closet then a bedroom. She peeled her clothes off leaving her in nothing but her bra and panties. Finally she sat on her bed grabbing the bottle of sleeping pills she stole from the liquor store and popping one more then the prescribed dose on the back of the box and chasing it with some whisky.

She wasn't sure how long she was sleeping for, before she was ripped from her unconscious state by Tony grabbing a handful of her dark hair , while his other hand gripped her upper arm and pulled her roughly out of bed. her eyes were heavy with sleep, but she came to realization quickly when her brother slapped her so hard across the face her head whipped to the side and she could feel blood start to drip from her nose immediately. He shoved her against the wall causing her to wince in pain from her already sore body.

"What the fuck did you do with my blow?"[b] he spat hatefully and she clenched her jaw. His grip tightening on her and she knew it would leave a bruise. [b]"I know you took it you fucking slut." he hissed so close to her face she could smell the mix of liquor and weed on his breath.

She couldn't remember taking his shit, she never took his drugs for this reason. She was about to give him the cocaine she knew she had in the pocket of her shorts she'd worn last night when Paul appeared in her door way. "Tony." He called out causing Tony's grip to loosen on Buffy enough she shoved him away. "It was where you left it dumb ass." Buffy whipped the blood from her nose before slipping on a new pair of black shorts and a ripped up Guns and Roses shirt. Tony didn't apologize, just shot Buffy a dark look before grabbing the coke from Paul and slipping past him. "You alright B?" her brother asked in a hush tone.

"Fine." she breathed plainly as she slipped on her worn boots, which aside from her wedges were the only pair of shoes she owned. She heard Paul sigh, before disappearing from her door way. She touched up last nights party make-up before slipping out of her room and into the living room, grabbing the pack of cigarettes from the counter, she knew she'd pay for it later. The clock read 4:00 in green numbers on the broken stove. She glanced to see her brother leaning over the cluttered coffee table as he snorted a few lines, before she made her way to the front door.

She reached for the door only for her dad to grab the same place on her upper arm her brother had just grabbed. "Where the fuck do you think your going princess." he breathed. She ripped her arm away quickly opening the door.

"Out." she said simply slipping out the door and onto the front porch, she paused to light herself a cigarette, taking a drag from it, debating on where to go.



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Like usual Andrew's bedroom door was locked, his shades were down making the bedroom dark, the only source of light was his black light that made things in the room appear to glow. His room wasn't huge but he had nice things, thanks to his step-mom. His music was blasting, it had been loud in an attempt to drown out Roxy's moans, yet after they'd fallen asleep he hadn't turned the music off, so his angsty, dark music was still obnoxiously loud, which probably made it more then impossible for his poor step-mother to get any sleep before her twelve hour shift or his sister's before they had to go to school.

When he'd finally woken up it was later in the afternoon, he'd woken up to Roxy kissing his lip and he smirked against her lips pulling her close as he started to rubbed between her legs, over her lacey panties. They made out for a long time, just touching each other before she finally pulled away with a soft sigh. She grabbed the controller to his stereo, turning it down enough that she didn't have to yell over it.

"I've gotta go." she breathed in her thick Spanish accent. He sat up moving her hair to one side as pressing his lips to her skin and moving them along her neck, in an attempt to make her stay. "Ay, stop it. My Madre will kill me if I'm late, you know I have to go to Mass." she breathed as she stood pulling her tight skinny jeans over her thin legs.

"Come baby, do you even believe in all that Mother Mary, baby Jesus bull shit?" he smirked laying on his side as he placed a cigarette in his mouth lighting it. "I mean, with all the sins you have to confess, your going to have to blow the priest just to get into heave." he breathed releasing a cloud of smoke from his lips.

"Yeah. I believe in all that bull shit just as much as I believe that you'll ever change." she smirked and he raised a brow, loving her sarcasm and the fact that she could handle how much of an ass hole he was. She lend in fully dressed this time as she kissed his lips once more before plucking his cigarette from his fingertips. "See you tonight Mi amor." she breathed as she slipped out of the bedroom.

He laid in his bed for a while smoking a few cigarettes before sitting up, he grabbed his cooking spoon, he put a small amount of white powder in the spoon before holding the lighter underneath the spoon, waiting for the drug to liquefy before filling a needle with the toxic chemical, he rapped a make-shift tourniquet around his defined, muscular upper arm before finding a vein and slipped the needle into his skin on the inside of his elbow near other faded track marks. A sigh of pleasure escaped his lips as he released the drug into his blood stream.

He was hopelessly addicted to drugs, he hid his addiction from his Step-mother for the most part. There was a soft knock at his door and he was quick to slip his drugs and accessories into the drawer before pulling on his jeans. He hadn't even given the okay to come in, before his Step-sister Pricilla's head peaked in. She was beautiful, there was no doubt about that, but she was his sister, not by blood but in every other sense of the word. It didn’t matter how many times he said no, she had a tendency of being able to get him into bed and he hated that. The sex though was fantastic, that was more or less the reason he couldn't say no.

"I thought that bitch was never going to leave." she smirked as she slipped into the bedroom closing the door behind him. [b]"Moms gone till late tonight and Andrea is at a friends, we've got the house all to ourselves." she said as he stood and the drugs made her words extra slow and seductive. She paused in front of him reaching out and running her finger tips along his fit torso. "What do you say Drew?" she breathed leaning in and kissing his lips

He grabbed her jaw roughly kissing her lips hard and he felt her smirk against his lips. He willed himself to pull away though and move around her grabbing a shirt and slipping it on. Before slipping on his combat boots.

"Sorry doll, I just smoked my last cigarette." he said with a shrug. "I've got to make a visit to the liquor store." he smirked and she pouted her lip. "You want anything?" he asked, but before she answered he slipped out of his bedroom window, not because he was sneaking out, but because he didn't feel like walking to the front door.

"Ass hole!" she shouted out the window after him and he just flipped her off as he continued to walk, the drugs settling in his system, making everything a million times clearer, his senses working overtime.



Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Buffy Halloway Character Portrait: Avery Weelan Character Portrait: Andrew Shepherd Character Portrait: Grey Isles
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"It's like one thousand paper cuts soaked in vinegar.
Like the battles with yourself, that leave you insecure.
It's all just a numbing charade,
until the day you finally wake up and you're not afraid."

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There it was again. That god awful feeling that everything in her stomach was about to come out completely. She hated doing this. Hated it. Tugging on a lightweight jean jacket, Avery shoved her feet into a pair of Vans sneakers that have seen much better days. Reaching down to grab her wallet, she shoved it into the back pocket of her shorts. Her hands were shaking, and her jaw was clenched tight. Pulling a cigarette out of the pack she kept tucked in her bra, she lit it without hesitation and turned to look down at the bed she was standing before. She'd wanted new sheets for a while, but not having sufficient funds left her with the hole-filled ones she was staring at. Just another thing to add to her list.

Inhaling a puff of smoke, Avery's stomach twisted and she rushed for the bathroom. Taking the cigarette out of her mouth and into her hand, she knelt over the toilet, dry heaving. This had been going on for hours now. Her eyes glanced up at the tiny shelf above the sink where a small battery powered clock rested. Quarter of four. Fuck. It'd been almost eighteen hours. Standing up, and pulling herself together, she rested the cigarette back between her lips.

Looking at herself in the mostly shattered mirror, she pulled her hair off to one side, lifted her chin and watched smoke billow out of her mouth. Pull it together, just get it together. You'll be fine soon. Letting her long waves of hair fall back around her face like they always did, she turned to head out to her next destination. She'd be early, but she couldn't wait any longer. She needed it. As soon as possible.

Heading down the street, she found herself at the nearest liquor store. The usual place that she met dealers. Attempting to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, her hands shook enough that any hair she tried to tuck in just fell out. Feeling like a ticking bomb, Avery made her way up to the sidewalk just outside of the building. Leaning against the brick wall of the building, she tried to collect herself as she waited, but it wasn't going over very well. Every minute was painstaking. Biting her lips and the insides of her cheeks, Avery watched the street for signs of her dealer.

It had to have been at least a half hour when she finally saw him approaching. A massive and sudden wave of relief hit her when he came up to stand alongside her. "Do you have it?" She asked, her voice shaking from anticipation. The blonde haired, skinny and rather tall male looked at her with a sideways glance. "Ave... the real question is do you have payment?"

Biting her lip harder, she moved to stand in front of him as she dug into the pocket of her jean jacket. "I don't have enough, but I have something..." She said, pulling out thirty some-odd dollars with her trembling hands. "Please... Blaine..." She begged helplessly as he eyed the money she held in a closed fist.

"I can't keep spotting you anymore, you owe too much." He said with a shrug of his shoulders, and immediately Avery's hands were gripping his shirt. She was on the tips of her toes just to be inches from his face. "No, no, no, no, Blaine... please, don't do this to me. Not tonight, please!" She cried out in a soft whisper. Pushing her off of him with a little bit of force he shook his head at her and started to walk away in the direction he had come.

"Blaine! Please!" She shouted after him, but he ignored her. Leaving her pacing, shaking, and near-tears, Avery kicked a nearby trashcan with all of her might sending it rolling into the parking lot. Crossing her arms over her chest, still pacing, she froze all of a sudden. Another way... She could pay him another way. A way she was sure he'd appreciate. But she's never done that before... but she needed it. Bad. Frozen still, she watched him walk away. Watched her only source of what she needed walk off.

Just when she was about to start going after him, a car pulled up by him and he got in. Leaning back against the wall again, she dropped her head back. She was screwed.




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"Polishing my social skills
with one more drink,
and two more pills.
I do not feel good.
I thought by now I would."


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Another typical night. Bullshit, more bullshit. So unbelievably high, Grey had been wandering around the trailer park for almost two hours now. No direction, no interest in finding one either. He spun his gun in one hand as he took long drags of a joint in the other. "Aren't you bored? You know... from just walking around?" The voice alongside him asked. He'd forgotten she was there. Some girl he met when he was picking up dope in town. They did a bump or two before the wandering escapade began. He figured she would have just left, but he thought wrong.

"Don't you just get bored following me around like that?" He returned, his voice careless and his attentions more focused on the gun he twirled in circles with his fingers. All of a sudden, something struck him. A little fun would be nice... With swift movements, Grey unlocked the safety on the handgun, aimed it right at the young girl's temple. The girl froze, hands up by her shoulders. "I'm sorry...I was just..."

"Just what? Being obnoxious? Following me around, asking me if I'm bored? If I was bored, would I still be walking around? What kind of question is that?" He asked her, pushing the gun against the girl's temple harder. Tears welled in the corners of her eyes then, and she took in a shaky breath before starting to speak again. "I'm s-s-sorry. I thought you m-might want the c-company." She nearly cried out and Grey laughed. He laughed hard enough that his arm holding the gun fell to his side.

The girl used the moment to try and flee, but he stopped laughing immediately and held the gun at her again. "Did you really think that was going to work? God, you're pathetic. Didn't your mommy and daddy teach you not to talk to strangers?" He asked stepping closer to her. He filled the space between them so that their bodies were brushing up against each other. She was sobbing now. Hysterically.

"Shut up." He hissed and the girl tried holding in her breath in an attempt to stifle the sounds of her terror-filled crying. It was then that out of the corner of his eye he saw someone pulling back their curtains to look at them from inside their trailer. In order to hide suspicion, he lowered his gun so that it pushed against the bottom of her rib cage. He had tossed his cigarette a while ago, so with his free hand he grabbed the hair at the back of her head and planted a rough kiss on her lips. Moving back just enough that their lips only brushed each other he continued to grip her hair, holding her so she couldn't move away just yet.

The girl was frozen in fear, but Grey turned them enough that their witness could only see his face, and his side that didn't have the gun. "You're going to smile and walk away like we just finished a fucking date or something." He started in a low whisper, and the girl let out a small choked sob that Grey attempted to cover up with another kiss.

"You're also not going to talk about this ever again. If I find out that you said something, I will kill you. Without hesitation. Do you understand?" The girl nodded and he rolled his eyes a little. "Good. Now put your hands around my neck, kiss me goodbye and then get the fuck out of here." He ordered, and she followed them. She played it off well, which Grey took note on and watched her walk away as he went to light another cigarette. "Bitches man..." He muttered to himself with a slight chuckle and shake of his head before he turned to wink at the older man who was watching him. In response, the man dropped the curtain and disappeared behind it. Greyson let out another laugh.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Buffy Halloway Character Portrait: Avery Weelan Character Portrait: Andrew Shepherd Character Portrait: Grey Isles
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Buffy took long drag after long drag off her cigarette. She had no where to, it wasn't like she had any close girlfriends she could hang out with any guys she knew, she'd end up simply sleeping with. She heard her father start yelling about something she didn't care much about and she winced, his drunken slurred yells reminding her that she needed to decide where to go quickly or she'd spend the rest of the after noon and evening as her father and Tony's punching bag. Although she'd slept she was still exhausted and itching for a hit.

She dropped her cigarette stomping it out with the toe of her boot. She started walking before she saw a couple kissing in the distance. She rolled her eyes, when she realized it was her next door neighbor. She'd never seen that girl around her though, not that it was that suspicious. She'd made up her mind to got to one of the bars and see if she couldn't go home with one of the desperate guys there, sure it was a terrible idea but it was better then being at home.

She continued to walk in the direction of Grey, not particularly because she wanted to, but because it was in the direction of the bar. She tried to keep her eyes off him. They'd technically grown up together, he'd lived next door her entire life, yet they'd said maybe two words two each other. The only thing she knew about him was he was dangerous and his father had committed suicide. Both of which she'd found out from Paul.

The girl kissed him one last time and she could almost guarantee he'd just fucked her. A part of her wondered what it was like fucking him. He was attractive, exactly her type. She pushed the thoughts away though, she tried her best not to have relationships with people she had to see on a regular basis. It was simpler when she didn't know the guys she fucked. then there was a part of her that wanted to put off going to the bar because she was only going to get out of having to be home.

"You scare off all the girls you fuck?" she called out to him with a smirk on her lips. She honestly didn't expect him to respond or acknowledge her, they'd gone this long without conversing.



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The sun was hot on his back as he walked, but as hot as it was it didn't phase him. He was used to the summer heat in the desert. All he wanted was a pack of cigarettes and a couple bottle of liquor. When Roxy said she'd see him later that night it was because her family was having a party, however there were several other parties on his mind. That all Andrew thought about was the next party and the next cheap thrill.

He wasn't paying much attention as he walked, eventually though he ended up at the liquor store. His eyes fell on a pretty blonde he recognized from the trailer park. She was beautiful actually not that he'd ever paid that much attention to her. It didn't take long for him to asses the situation, she was jonesing, it was clear in her body language and the way her hands grasped the guys shirt desperately before he pushed her away. He dealt drugs on occasion he could spot and addict from a mile away.

He didn't bother stopping though, he had a one track mind and he had a one track mind. As he pushed the door of the liquor store open there was a small jingle. This place was old as hell and ran by the same old man who'd probably bought it when he was much younger so their was no security cameras. He waved to the old man who gave him a worn smile before returning to his crossword puzzle.

He walked through the store carefully collecting snacks that were small enough to fit into the pockets on the inside of his jacket. Snacks he only ate when he was stoned. He finally made his way up to the register and asked the man for a bag of ice he knew that he kept in the back. The old man was slow and so Drew grabbed a paper bag and filled it with bottle of liquor, before walking behind the counter and grabbing several cartons of cigarettes and heading out. It was way too easy. He strolled out of the store, where the girl still was lend against the wall looking miserable.

"Hey babe." he called out to her. "How much you got?" he said walking over to her. "You give me what you got and I can get you some cheap blow, I've got some back at my house." he offered as casually as if he was talking about canned goods. He knew how miserable it was to withdrawal, not to mention she was pretty, he might even get lucky.



Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Buffy Halloway Character Portrait: Avery Weelan Character Portrait: Andrew Shepherd Character Portrait: Grey Isles
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"Hey babe." Avery's attention turned to the sound of a male's voice. As she turned, the sun shone right into her eyes blocking her vision and causing the person to look like a silhouette. She pulled her hand up above her eyes in order to shield them from the sun and to get a better look. However, her double vision wasn't very aiding in that regard. "How much you got?" The person came closer which allowed Avery to turn and actually see.

He was handsome, very handsome. And he looked rather familiar. She was pretty sure she had seen him around the trailer park a few times at least. Beyond that, she wasn't really sure who he was. Yet it seemed that he was about to offer something, and she wasn't going to ignore it. His question did have her wondering what was coming next.

Although she wasn't too sure about what he meant at first, it was cleared up with what he said after that. "You give me what you got and I can get you some cheap blow, I've got some back at my house.". She wasn't sure whether to trust him or not. She wanted to. She wanted to get to know him. She wasn't sure why really, but she knew she did. First of all, she definitely wanted that blow. Second, she figured it was partially because she was dying to get back out there and not just sit around high and holed up in her trailer. A habit she grew onto after her eighteenth birthday.

She needed something reckless, and this looked like that was the perfect opportunity. It had been too long, but she needed the blow first and foremost. Small beads of sweat decorated her forehead, but she was shivering. Avery wiped her forehead with the back of her hand while licking her lips a little. "I'll give you what I've got. But I want to see the stuff first." She said flatly. She wasn't going to mess around this time around. Not after having her first connection completely fail on her.



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"You scare off all the girls you fuck?" The sound of someone's voice caught him completely off guard. To hell with any witnesses, Grey spun around and aimed his gun in the direction of the voice. When he saw who he was pointing at he froze there for a moment. it was his neighbor. Buffy. You'd think for a neighbor he would at least recognize her voice a little, but they rarely talked. He wasn't about getting into family issues much, anyway, and that's what her life seemed to revolve around. At least from what he could tell.

"Shut up. I didn't fuck her, and even if I did it shouldn't matter to you. It's none of your business anyways. Run off and go play flying-fists with your fucking family or something. I don't need you in my fucking way." He snarled, lowering the gun and putting the safety back on it. He took a final drag of his cigarette before clipping it and saving the rest for later. Reaching into his coat he pulled out a joint.

His high was just getting continuously worse and worse by all of the little shit he could care less about. What bothered him though, was that it was ruining his high! And really giving him a headache. However, something tugged inside of him that this girl could probably give him a fun time. More than the last one at least. He lit up the joint, taking a big puff before closing his eyes for a bit longer than a standard blink. Letting the smoke flow out of his nose, he held the joint out in her direction. His way of trying to share.

Opening his eyes and scanning his surroundings for anyone that may have seen him pull his gun out, he let out a small breath when the coast was clear. Looking at Buffy, he couldn't figure out why she was making him feel soft. But he wasn't comfortable with it, and he wasn't about to let himself go soft. He needed to do something reckless. "How about a little fun?" He asked, and kind of hinted at an apology for the low-blow, but really didn't think much past it. He was more focused on trying for something stupid.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Buffy Halloway Character Portrait: Avery Weelan Character Portrait: Andrew Shepherd Character Portrait: Grey Isles
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Buffy didn't even flinch when he pointed the gun at her, she wasn't scared of him like she had a feeling she probably should be. It wasn't the first time or even the second time she'd had a gun pointed at her. There was a time when she'd had a gun and debated killing Tony and her father, until Tony found her gun and beat the shit out of her for having it.

"Shut up. I didn't fuck her, and even if I did it shouldn't matter to you. It's none of your business anyways. Run off and go play flying-fists with your fucking family or something. I don't need you in my fucking way." he practically growled and she raised a brow as she felt pure rage race through her veins. Her jaw clenched, she hated that he knew what went on behind closed doors, she hid it for the most part and was good at it, but it was hard to hid when his bedroom window faced hers.

She wanted to run over to him and punch him in the God damn face, however she stayed unmoving. She was close enough to him to tell he was on something, but far enough away she'd have to take a few steps forward to close the space between them. She watched him trying to will herself to walk away and talk herself what she was about to do. There was something about him though as he took a drag off his joint that drew her into him. She watched him loosing her anger a bit before, he opened his eyes and she remember that she was pissed at him as he held the joint out in her direction almost as if to apologize.

Is he fucking serious? I'm not every other bitch he fucks. she thought bitterly.

"How about a little fun?" he asked and she smirked, what she was going to do to him was going to be fun for her. She crossed the way over to him taking the joint from him keeping her deep blues eyes fixed on his eyes. She took a long drag off the joint, releasing perfectly practiced O shaped smoke from her lips, before dropping the joint.

"Opps." she breathed seductively an apologetic pout on her lips. She wrapped an arm around his neck leaning in close so her lips were a breath away from his, never breaking contact. She was a master when it came to the game of seduction knew how to keep guys interested. The fingertips of her free hand traced his arm slowly, teasingly she pulled back when she reached his wrist, before punching him in the stomach and stepping away.

"Fuck you, at least my dad didn't commit suicide you piece of shit." she spat harshly. "Don't pretend to know anything about my family." she said slipping past him then and continuing towards the bar, she had a pretty good feeling he'd follow her.



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He could already tell she didn't quite trust him, not that he blamed her hell he'd just robbed a liquor store. Still, he was honestly probably more reliable then her dealer. His shit was always good, because all the people he bought from weren't dealers, that laced their shit with cheaper stuff to get more money. His stuff was always fresh and pure because he bought it straight from the distributors. When he life could be at steak because of something someone had put into the drug that wasn't supposed to be there, he didn't play thoes games.

"I'll give you what I've got. But I want to see the stuff first." She said flatly and he nodded. He didn't deal often, but when he did, his prices were fairly cheap and his drugs were better then most dealers.

"Alright, follow me." he said simply. He didn't look back to see if she followed him and he didn't talk much, just made his way back to his house. His bedroom window was still open and so he slipped inside and set the bag of stolen goods on his desk next to a bunch of empty beer cans. He went back over to the window. "You can come in if you want or if your scared I'm going to murder you be my guest and stay out there." he said plainly.

He made his way over to his bedroom door locking it, because he absolutely hated when people could just walk in. He didn't pay attention to whether or not she came into his bedroom. He went about emptying his pockets of all the snacks he'd stolen, before popping open a brand new bottle of whisky from the paper bag and taking a huge swig. He never even flinched as it burned down his throat. He whipped his mouth with his arm and had honestly almost forgotten anyone was there as he turned up his music. However it wasn't as loud as it had been earlier, just loud enough that if Pricilla or Andrea decided to ease drop they wouldn't be able to hear.

He opened his neatly organized drawer with an array of drugs. He pulled out several small baggies lining them up as he glanced to her with a wicked smirk. "I got your designer drug, your blow, dope, oxycontin, or if you wanna go a little old school and trip I've got a little Lucy in the sky." she said with a smirk as he glanced up to her. "If you still think I'm so shit head, I'll let you test a little out." he said like it wasn't a big deal.



Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Buffy Halloway Character Portrait: Avery Weelan Character Portrait: Andrew Shepherd Character Portrait: Grey Isles
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"Alright, follow me." He didn't have to say it twice, that was for sure. The walk to his place was quiet, which she didn't really mind since she was already dazed and out of it. She recognized where he lived almost instantly when they got onto his property. His home was just three streets over from hers. And by streets, she meant dirt roads. Personally, Avery preferred living on dirt roads. Especially in the summer time like this, simply because a paved road would just make matters way worse with the way the sun would be attracted to the grey/black pavement.

As he climbed into the window, she couldn't help but to wonder why he just didn't use the door. As he climbed in Avery stood there, looking around at the other trailers. They were all relatively nicer than the one she lived in. It was definitely the nicer area of the trailer park. Lucky bastard. Her thoughts were soon disrupted by the sound of his voice. "You can come in if you want or if your scared I'm going to murder you be my guest and stay out there." Avery climbed into the window, managing the stunt without too much struggle.

Watching him walk over to his door and lock it, then watched as he emptied all of his pockets. Her head titled a little as she realized he probably didn't pay for any of the stuff he was unloading. Including the bottle of whiskey he brushed on his lips. When the music was on, Avery seemed to relax a little more. As if her withdrawal responded to the sound of the music. When she saw him open the drawer full of drugs, she couldn't help but to swoon over the sight.

"I got your designer drug, your blow, dope, oxycodone, or if you wanna go a little old school and trip I've got a little Lucy in the sky." Avery walked over to stand next to him, looking down at the drugs he had pulled out and lined up. When he glanced up at her, Avery smiled a little while still trying to collect herself. Oh God how she wanted to do all of them. At once. And just lead herself into oblivion. However, she just met this guy, and she wasn't about to start a second problem with her inability to pay.

"If you still think I'm a shit head, I'll let you test a little out." Avery put her hand on what looked like a dresser and leaned onto it to attempt to support herself. It must've been at least 20 hours without now, because she was feeling weak. Trying to play it off, she crossed one leg in front of the other so her body weight was only supported by one leg. After a moment of pause and consideration she pulled the cash out of her back pocket that she had tucked into it while walking over here.

"Look, I'll just take what ever you can give me for this. And thank you." She said holding the money between her index and middle finger and reaching it out towards him. She bit her lip unconsciously at the thought of how close she was to finally get her fix. And damn, she needed it.



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When she took the join from him and took a long drag before accidentally dropping it, he knew she was pissed. He expected it. "Oops." She tried him in a seductive manner, and she wrapped her arms around his neck. He didn't respond, rather he let her do her thing. He admitted that the feeling of her touch was rather nice, but he knew that she was definitely not happy.

The punch to his stomach wasn't fully expected, and he bent over a bit cradling his stomach. The nauseous feeling boiled around a bit and he let out a deep grunt. "Fucking bitch." He snarled spitting out onto the ground. He'd definitely been punched harder, but the fact that she got him a little off guard made him feel sick. He placed his hands on his knees, spitting every few seconds as he tried to recollect himself.

"Fuck you, at least my dad didn't commit suicide you piece of shit." A low blow in return for a low blow. He didn't really care his dad was dead. He'd numbed himself to the thought a while ago, replacing his feelings of guilt and depression with the feelings he got when he was high. He laughed softly. "Don't pretend to know anything about my family."

He stood up then, watching her walk away. He was tempted to chase her down, and start hitting the living hell out of her, but it wasn't worth it. "I don't need to pretend. It's written all over the bruises on your lip, your arms. If I was pretending, I would act like I didn't know." He spat at her, shaking his head with a slight roll of his eyes before pulling out his clipped cigarette. At least he'd gotten a few good hits off his joint before bitcherella had her way with it.

Reflecting in his head what had just played out between both girls that had crossed paths with him, he laughed. He didn't particularly enjoy the fact that it invaded the enjoyment of his high. But he did enjoy the fact that he was getting a rush off of it. He laughed a little harder, and louder. The thrill he got just holding the gun up to the first girl, whatever her name was. And the way Buffy tried to seduce him before punching him in the gut. Oh, the way the pain stung his insides he rather enjoyed. He coughed a little through some laughter as he took a drag of his cigarette.

"Have fun with your pretend happy family!" He called after her laughing almost hysterically. He waved with his hand that held the cigarette before turning to start wandering the trailer park again. He was good at wasting time.


{Sorry for any typos, I didn't get a chance to revise it yet! Thought I'd get a post to you before I left! Have fun c;}