fuck marry kill

[money]

FUCK, MARRY, KILL

welcome to GAME NIGHT at DEAD MEN TELL NO TALES. the game on the docket? FUCK, MARRY, KILL. the rules are simple: roll the game picker wheel three times or just pick three as you'd like, dropping the names in your header comment — icly we'll say they picked they names out of a hat. people respond, comment around, get into fist fights, kiss a little? thread hop and react as you see fit!
(meme threads can be considered canon!)

Comments

[jukejoint]

( stack meets his eye, holds it, takes it all in. kind of only realizes what he said was a pretty shitty thing once he sees armand's plaintive expression cast back at him — too long to much entertain the ravings of a youngin'. it's hard, because he's so babyfaced, so shiny and new looking. it's only in the eyes you can tell how old he is, how long the dead and the rot has been there, weighing on his shoulders. stack tries to pretend like he's looking at slim. how would he respond then?

under the table, he stretches a foot out to touch the toe of one shoe against armand's. elders are old for a reason. you listen when they give advice. )

Yeah. I hear you. ( he holds his hands up in a you got me kind of way. ) Ain't turn nobody. Won't turn nobody. Thing is, we different kinds of vampires, you and me. Kind I am, you die with a bite, that's it. Wake up in a minute, bright as a newborn, cryin' for blood. ( armand could finish the thought, but stack does it for him, gesturing, ) Haven't made none, despite the killin'. Means I can't, probably, unless I ain't doing it right.

So. You can tuck it back in your drawers, cousin. I ain't gonna be a problem.

[nishtha]

[ A single bite is all it takes. Vampirism like a virus, like a disease; Armand is horrified. He imagines the world Stack calls home, infested with death, a single vampire able to repopulate entire towns within a few nights. But new with it, and helplessly violent, if Stack himself is anything to go by; too easily caught, once mortals find out, and easily burned out of their nests. Living like vermin, like locusts. Hungry and terrible.

He keeps his dismay off his face and out of his mind, still not sure how much Stack can read from him in these close quarters. Instead, he offers him a thin, humourless smile. ]

Good.

[ He studies Stack for another moment, letting his threat weight the air, not yet withdrawn. What would happen if he started to become a problem.

Then he relaxes, visibly letting go of the tension, sighing out a breath as he glances around. Chatter fills the restaurant, laughter in the din. Suddenly it's too bright, too loud. Clogged with needy, noisy humanity. ]

Are you hungry?

[jukejoint]

( stack is happy to let the tension die — not forget it, exactly, not the threat or the feeling of armand rattling inside his brain, oddly temporal. a good reminder not to be tricked by his fae appearance, a deadly present in beautiful wrapping.

popping up from his seat, he overcompensates for the misstep with loveliness to armand's side, taking the hat off his head (italian) and offering a bow before him, fop-like, courting-like, a charming escort letting his intentions be known. he holds out a hand for armand's. )

After you.