Open RP Post

[devilofaboy]

🖤 Hit me up on plurk or via PM if you have any questions/want to run an idea by me first/what-have-you.
🖤 General squick/trigger list.
🖤 m/m for anything shippy.
🖤 General headcanon for Ronan. If you've got different headcanon/ideas for a psl, hit me with 'em; I'm flexible.
🖤 Ronan's kink list.
🖤 This is open to everyone who wants to thread with me!

Comments

[devilofaboy]

[Ronan had thought the Fairy Market alone would be enough. There were all kinds of things, from the relatively benign to fucked up shit, and he really wasn't cut out for this kind of scene. He didn't belong here. He was a stranger to this place similar to how he'd never really belonged in Aglionby. And yet there was a pull to it, too. Magical and mystical and mysteries rolled up into one not-so-neat bundle.

And yet the biggest mystery and the most fucked up thing he saw was- a boy. It was impossible not to recognize Kavinsky, and the double-take Ronan did had more to do with not believing what he was seeing than an issue with recognition. He froze. Completely still, staring for one second, two. Then, on pure adrenaline and instinct alone, on the need to know what was going on, he darted forward, pushing anyone who might have been in his way between him and that elevator.

Brazenly, without a second thought for his own wellbeing, he reached forward, intending to swipe a hand between the elevator doors to trigger the sensors. But he was a second too late and the doors closed in front of his face. He wasn't going to let that stop him; his gaze flickered up to the display, just long enough to figure out what floor the elevator was going to, and then he pivoted, heading for the stairs.

He slammed the door open, driven by- what? What was he going to do when this ended up not being Kavinsky? When it turned out there was a doppelganger or Ronan was losing his mind? A smaller voice asked what if it IS Kavinsky, what would Ronan do then? It was impossible, of course, he reasoned as he took the stairs two at a time; he'd watched Kavinsky die. He'd been to his funeral. But Ronan himself was something impossible, so who was really to say what was real and what wasn't?

Bursting out of the stairwell door on the appropriate level, he looked one way and then the other, head on a swivel, before catching sight of Kavinsky's familiar figure. Or his twin, as it might be. Ronan didn't know what he was going to do. He didn't have a plan. He just- he headed in Kavinsky's direction, catching up before he could disappear again, maybe for good this time. Ronan caught him by the arm-]

Wait.