08-03-2018, 01:32 AM
[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-size: 9.4pt; line-height: 1.4;"]//lmfao they're terrible but in the best way
+ thought i lost my post and almost had a heart attack
There was a very prominent difference between thriving and surviving, yes, especially with the limelight. If Gabe was tossed into it, he could keep his head above water for the sake of it, but repeatedly, and with the expectation of greater success each time would highlight what separated scraping by from fucking owning that stage. Did he wish he could do the latter? No, not really- but seeing people who could work a crowd always garnered a bit of respect from him, probably something similar to the respect had for someone who could leave bloodied, piranha-infested waters without a scratch. That was impressive. As for himself, and others like him, they had strengths elsewhere. Personally, he found it a lot more satisfying to lurk than to strut, if only for the reaction. Or he had. He'd gone soft since then, soft and exhausted.
How one could maintain a cheerful demeanor while crumbling was not under his purview. Gabe had failed at being grumpy and dying on the inside, considering the measures he wound up taking by turning himself in to the eggheads, hoping they'd fix him. One last act of optimism, he supposed, before it all died when he woke up far from fixed. He accepted those consequences, though; he'd made the decision, and the blame was his own. It just might've been nice if he could have managed at least a somewhat sunnier disposition, so that he wasn't widely known as a complete bastard, but it didn't matter. His reputation didn't exactly extend to these groups, thankfully.
Otherwise, people would probably believe Des some kind of miracle-worker, and that wasn't something Gabe wanted going to his head.
With all the shit he was rummaging through and pulling out, maybe he really did have more shit up his sleeves. That bit wasn't surprising, but the supplies were, if only because Gabriel had pegged him for someone more familiar with breaking bones than mending them. Everyone had their secrets, though, and Gabe would have to work a bit more to worm them out. A lot more, and he wasn't about to waste the time he had now to, at the very least, get a feel for the place Des settled in. He wasn't lying about treasuring the booze, considering it was in a locked box, as opposed to everything else inside, and the hybrid trailed over to stand beside him.
They were all relatively full. They didn't look as though they were untouched from disuse, though, so Gabe wondered if he'd recently replenished his supplies. "Diverse tastes, huh?" Or maybe he just wasn't picky and chose whatever was available; on the other hand, he could simply have broad interests in alcohol. Gabe wasn't much of a connoisseur when it came to drinks. It would be nice to have a choice, though, so when Des moved away to give him full access, he perused a bit. Surprisingly, he found a bottle of mezcal- nice. "If you're not careful, you might come back to an empty box one day." He couldn't quite grab it with his beak, so he juggled it between his two sets of talons, managing to set it down without breaking anything.
His beak did away with the cork fairly easily, luckily, before glancing over at Des, who was already sending a smirk his way to match his comment. "Haven't died yet, have I? Unless this is hell, in which case, I wasn't expecting alcohol." He wandered back over, gently nudging the bottle along with him, and the stare he gave Des for his tom-fuckery was nothing short of unimpressed.
"Very funny, pendejo." He took the bottle and lowered it carefully, before stepping over to the collection of first-aid, where he took a few bits of cloth before returning to his original spot. "You're not gonna sit there and watch, are you?" That was all Gabe said before he dipped the bits of cloth into the disinfectant, using his beak to dab at various scrapes on his forelegs and chest. The rest of him was mostly bruised, but it was the spots where Lazarus manhandled him that had broken skin. Part of his back had some scratches, so he had to twist his head around for those, and he couldn't feel anything else that would need attention.
"Didn't expect you to actually have much in here."
[align=right][i]——INFO
+ thought i lost my post and almost had a heart attack
There was a very prominent difference between thriving and surviving, yes, especially with the limelight. If Gabe was tossed into it, he could keep his head above water for the sake of it, but repeatedly, and with the expectation of greater success each time would highlight what separated scraping by from fucking owning that stage. Did he wish he could do the latter? No, not really- but seeing people who could work a crowd always garnered a bit of respect from him, probably something similar to the respect had for someone who could leave bloodied, piranha-infested waters without a scratch. That was impressive. As for himself, and others like him, they had strengths elsewhere. Personally, he found it a lot more satisfying to lurk than to strut, if only for the reaction. Or he had. He'd gone soft since then, soft and exhausted.
How one could maintain a cheerful demeanor while crumbling was not under his purview. Gabe had failed at being grumpy and dying on the inside, considering the measures he wound up taking by turning himself in to the eggheads, hoping they'd fix him. One last act of optimism, he supposed, before it all died when he woke up far from fixed. He accepted those consequences, though; he'd made the decision, and the blame was his own. It just might've been nice if he could have managed at least a somewhat sunnier disposition, so that he wasn't widely known as a complete bastard, but it didn't matter. His reputation didn't exactly extend to these groups, thankfully.
Otherwise, people would probably believe Des some kind of miracle-worker, and that wasn't something Gabe wanted going to his head.
With all the shit he was rummaging through and pulling out, maybe he really did have more shit up his sleeves. That bit wasn't surprising, but the supplies were, if only because Gabriel had pegged him for someone more familiar with breaking bones than mending them. Everyone had their secrets, though, and Gabe would have to work a bit more to worm them out. A lot more, and he wasn't about to waste the time he had now to, at the very least, get a feel for the place Des settled in. He wasn't lying about treasuring the booze, considering it was in a locked box, as opposed to everything else inside, and the hybrid trailed over to stand beside him.
They were all relatively full. They didn't look as though they were untouched from disuse, though, so Gabe wondered if he'd recently replenished his supplies. "Diverse tastes, huh?" Or maybe he just wasn't picky and chose whatever was available; on the other hand, he could simply have broad interests in alcohol. Gabe wasn't much of a connoisseur when it came to drinks. It would be nice to have a choice, though, so when Des moved away to give him full access, he perused a bit. Surprisingly, he found a bottle of mezcal- nice. "If you're not careful, you might come back to an empty box one day." He couldn't quite grab it with his beak, so he juggled it between his two sets of talons, managing to set it down without breaking anything.
His beak did away with the cork fairly easily, luckily, before glancing over at Des, who was already sending a smirk his way to match his comment. "Haven't died yet, have I? Unless this is hell, in which case, I wasn't expecting alcohol." He wandered back over, gently nudging the bottle along with him, and the stare he gave Des for his tom-fuckery was nothing short of unimpressed.
"Very funny, pendejo." He took the bottle and lowered it carefully, before stepping over to the collection of first-aid, where he took a few bits of cloth before returning to his original spot. "You're not gonna sit there and watch, are you?" That was all Gabe said before he dipped the bits of cloth into the disinfectant, using his beak to dab at various scrapes on his forelegs and chest. The rest of him was mostly bruised, but it was the spots where Lazarus manhandled him that had broken skin. Part of his back had some scratches, so he had to twist his head around for those, and he couldn't feel anything else that would need attention.
"Didn't expect you to actually have much in here."
[align=right][i]——INFO
[align=center][table][tr][td]
I'M
[/td][td]FADING
[/td][td]FADING
[/td][td]MUCH TOO FAST
[/td][/tr][/table]