This Mirror Isn't Big Enough for the Two of Us

[Asphyxia]

A dark room, it's a dark place. Covered walls hid a secret. A sign that wore a tattered golden satin around a star that read "MCR" hung on a door who's lock only knew who withheld inside. Inside the walls, the room was already vacated for the exception of one. There was still an oddly timed, beating heart. The racing heart was fading, but not in the way someone about to meet their uncanny death would. The beats relaxed in each slowing pace, trying to match an even breathing and at the same time, it kept beating with the hopes of quickening its pace once again. The slow pumps heaved a broad but slim chest, covered by an endless sea of black attire, some buttons over the shirt loosely unbuttoned, carelessly exposing alabaster skin that had a new little tint to it. It looked warm and inviting, but it withheld a temperature still a little too cold for humans, but not cold enough for vampires. Like a sickened vampire. The slim contours slunk over a cushioned chair that kept the body upright from siding the smallest. Swung over an opposite was a glass bottle with a transparent substance inside that barely pooled the end of the glass. The opposite hand made a vague twirling motion around the air before the thumb positioned over the butt of the cancerous stick, pressing down on it with inhumane pressure, flicking off the remnants of what was once glowering embers. Raven hair slid off towards the slumped shoulders, matted in certain areas near the slender neck where frosty lips were thinned nicely into the skin, slowly rolling off in a disgruntled smug expression, resembling the farther, expressionless but completely lost in meaning eyes.
"The amount of pills I've taken," the words dropped off in a simple sing song tone of voice, humming the in between at vague lightning speed to continue.
"Counteracts the booze I'm drinking," the left hand that held the glass bottle by the neck twitched upwards as if to momentary flaunt the hard liquor that once existed inside of it.
"And this vanity, I'm breaking." Over the tall vanity mirror on a stand mirrored a pair of clouded, green pools. Raven drippings covered half of one and slid off across the man's forehead to sweep back abruptly as if a set of fingers had messed up the style.
"Let's me live my life like this." This time, the words were simply stated and stressed at the end, the bottle closing the intervals in between it and the rock star's lips.
"But I find it hard to stay with the words you say." The green eyes strayed easily from their twins, wheeling across different objects before hazily falling back over the ceiling, rolling momentarily into the membrane enclosing.

"Well guess what." After the eyes had disappeared, the same disgruntled smirk crossed the frosty colored lips. The eyes reopened before seconds of settling in the darkness to stare directly back at their mirroring twins with a more rougher squint, piercing with a feisty glare. "I won't let you in." Lips spoke in vibrant hopes as if there was some non existing battle that he had won or that an invisible argument had been going on and his words were the final thing in the verbal war. The lips withdrew from their victorious celebration, sourly rolling back into his mouth, his slender fingers drumming around the more solid and wooden arm of the chair, taping with a certain impatience drum. Greens collected back towards the door that locked from the inside, glaring at the wooden wall instead as if awaiting for the thing to answer.

[so this is it. crappy, I know. =D but I gave you somewhat of an opening.]

[Little Lion]

The door hadn't made a tell-tale sign of entry, no squeaking hinges protesting their only given duty, no creaking floors to groan about the trespassing weight, not even a ray of light through a half closed crack. Instead, it whispered a myth by way of a swinging dead bolt. Left, right. Left, right. Now slower, slower. The motion turned hypnotic, lasting longer then it should have. A simple, distracting rhythm swaying to the singers jagged hums, slowing, slowing like his heart had once.

A sharp contact met the back of his head near the neck, rushed through his hair close to the roots and, finding the top of his head, closed around the strands of raven, locking them in an iron grip and pulling at the roots. With a snap his head was forced back so his face was exposed to the white wash of the ceiling. The twin shades of green he had been staring at for so long had moved from the mirror and were placed dazzlingly close to his face. A cooler shade of silver peeked through the green and illuminated a complexion momentarily as bleached as the ceiling "You already did." The words were a soothing balm compared to the harsh yank on his hair. The pain of the hold still remained, the trespasser keeping his head up. The mirroring greens blinked, not in accord to his own groggy eyes but with a life and timing all their own. "Look at you..." The sweet words turned sour, delighted in the man's pity but carrying a song as though impressed by an old friend dressed to stun. The burning yank on his hair was loosened for only a second as a fist met the back of his head, pushing it forward causing the star to stare back into the mirror. It relayed to him all he had known. His form was in the chair where he left it but the mirror revealed a second figure. The frame of an average sized woman shadowed him, pressed close against the back of his chair and, with her left arm extended to the arm of his chair, her figure was bent around his slumped form. Her right hand was buried in his locks - an iron fist of misguided fury. Her skin was all at once tanned and pale in the smokey atmosphere of the darkened room. The dismal air cast an extra shadow on the frowning contours of her face while distorting the wicked smile to chilling appeal. "Beatifully wasted." Her fingers turned his head towards the glass in his hand to accompany the snide remark. "I'm sure you're...." With her fingers still closed tight around his hair, she turned his head in a small circle. "high?" Lavender lips curled in disdain and she released his raven locks with a hard shove. "You're perfect." The mocking tone danced across the low tones of her vocals, somewhere between jealous hatred and admiration. Her eyes moved over the figure in the mirror and she casually leaned to the right and placing her hands on the back of his chair, she admired the piece of work before her. "The essence of rock star. Glamor for the fans, shit faced for yourself. It's touching how dedicated you are to this." She brought her hand up and twirled a piece of disheveled raven hair around her pointer finger. A shameless smile turned up on her lips, her eyes went back to the mirror. "The perfect trash heap trophy wife."

[Asphyxia]

A disheveled grunt that managed to air of the angel hybrid's lips were close to something someone would shout to attempt a halt in the action. To the man's dismay, the sharpness pained him more than he thought it really would have, keeping a pressure in the back of his head that coagulated and eventually expanded throughout the hair tangents. The flash of white had come so quickly due to his disarrayed state, but it had been so slow at the same time, it hadn't made any sense as to why he'd seen something but he hadn't. Maybe due to some dumb mistake, he had been staring into the mirror from some different angle that had involved an involuntary movement from his part, but why was there a different temperature that burned deeper than his inhumane one? The blurred memory concentrated to focus over the twin greens. Some vague difference denoted over the flash of momentary chill that kept bringing heaps of heat over his body, flashing across his cheeks. Instead of coloring the discolored skin of his unnatural complex, it flushed it more than it could ever reach. "You already did." Stifled the voice into his jagged thoughts, but somehow managed to sooth some of the unnecessary tension that had been created around his body from trying but another sharpened pull created his already distorted reality to reel into a different one, backing up to where he had begun. This time, the reality hit him in a new breath of air, burning dry flames inside his throat and further. The new figure slowly assembling and curving over his side had been a surprise he vaguely expected. A smile distorted the groggy facial expressions into something further than just drunk and high. "Hah." The laugh escaped his lips as if there were some joke made that he had only heard about but very out of time and uneven. "So hiiiiigh, I could flyy." His voice slurred incoherently in pitched tones while the smile kept a place pasted upon a slacked mouth. "The perfect trash heap trophy wife." With a hiccup, his eyes widened in demented surprise. "Ah..." a curl finger lifted from his side to drop the cigarette, making a feeble attempt to put it out but failed horribly, taking a breather to speak in the only drunken tones he could express. "So you finally admit it," some of the words had been cut off in pronunciation, replaced by an 's' sound but still clear enough. "We're like a secret married couple." He enforced as if all knowing. "The secret is that you're a... uh..." his eyes blanked for that moment he was trying to speak, trying to search for the correct word of his confession. "Men. Yeah. Because /I/ only... like men..." another drunken laughter was injected in mid sentence as if some hidden joke was made. "Right?" Swinging the bottle by its neck, the perch came to his lap with a silenced thump. "So you must have a... a..." he signaled with some free fingers off the bottle, his other hand moping across his face, still feeling a phantom presence of her fingers over his hair from a late, coursing reaction. "Thing... down there."

[Little Lion]

The meticulous vixen watched the mirror for her prey's expression, calmly waiting for him to stumble over his own breaths and get to the point- if he hand one. Her slender brows raised and in the movement, only widened the left eye. The other stayed squinted, permanently stuck in the disgusted gaze, from the over use of her critical glares. The facial flaw was barely noticeable due to the constant flux and squint. Her face was left no less stunning then what it had been plus, the lack of genuine smiles did a wonder to keep the squint hidden. Without warning, a quick contraction of her lungs racked her frame to mark the beginning of a sharp, scoffing laugh towards his ridiculous conclusion. Green irises quickly rolled behind painted lashes and her lips puckered in disgust. It could never happen. It would be a marriage more dysfunctional then her last. Yet, part of her wondered if it's dysfunction wasn't five times more enjoyable then the last. Here was a man who could take the majority of her unnatural, depraved, sadistic behavior. Alas, she dismissed the faint thought with a shake of her head. What crap. Oh, he'd break. The wavy locks tumbled down over her shoulder with the shake of her head and closed the distance between the man and herself. Her fingers dropped the tendril of hair and helped brace her frame against the chair. Her even complexion settled right next to his flush face, almost so their eyes were level in the polished glass. Ignoring his struggle for words, she focused on the mirror, her eyes conveying her warped sense of entertainment. "You are so blitzed." Her tone moved up the scale in a laughing tone breaking off into a short laugh, like only the deranged knew how. It would have been on some strange side of adorable if not for the look on her face. The usually steely masked woman had smiled. Fascinated with her inebriated acquaintance, she'd let an impish grin slide into something near a smile. Rio was a million ways to be cruel and had only begun to show him. She sat back, distancing herself from his toxic stench. Delicate fingers were backtracking their path through the air to find his hair again and twirl it like he was nothing more then a puppet. Her hand stopped midway in it's path and dangled with an air of offense. She had suddenly become less amused with him. Her lips pursed to the side and her eyebrows slid together. With a snap of the wrist her hands were down on the back of the couch and dark, plum colored nails dug into the fabric of the couch as both hands sunk in to release misguided anger. With a small push on the back of the seat, the movement gave her enough momentum to relocate herself in front of Gerard's lounge. "Wrong!" She interjected his last statement a bit loudly, her voice rather stern and a finger pointed at him. "You don't." Rio, hands now on her hips, simply shrugged. The first strike had been a rough, physical movement to his head but her second strike was coarse mental tactic. The clever woman was banking on his priceless inebriation to cause him enough confusion that she would be able to convince him his sexual orientation was something other then he believed. Straight. Eventually, his ramblings became suffering to listen to. Her arms slid down off her hips, lifted and crossed while she waited for an end. "Are you kidding? I could slap you!" The words were quick as quick as the sudden slit appearance of her eyes. The insulted, sublime woman drew a deep breath and repositioned her hair to soothe her own pride. Her hands moved from the ends of her curls to her shoulders then down to her collar bone and the top of her chest. Here she found some reassurance, her chest was still of a very decent size leaving her to believe that he must be loosing his mind. Her hands moved to her hips next, landing on the low cut, ink wash jeans. "First of all, Gerrrrard, a man with a rack like this? Not even in it's transvestite dreams! And second, do you see how tight these pants are? I think you would know if I were packing. Although..." Her eyes fixed on his figure with a caustic expression, and her figure tilted to the right as she shifted her weight, making her hips a bit more prominent. "That theory kind of..." She drew a breath and brought her right hand to her face, tracing the pointer finger along her lip partially biting it.
"Fails on you."

[Asphyxia]

Gerard groggily observed the thing he perceived as a he/she in his inebriated state with some vague notice. Again, the late reaction began to settle slowly in his poisoned, semi-empty veins. From a serene and hazed state, the expression began to give a 180 degree turn. The alarmed state began to settle over his eyes, a light gasp breathing into his frosty lips as his alabaster fingers took a hold of the cushions of the arm rest. The man hadn't given into the soothing sensations of her fingers threading along his raven hair until her little mind fuck game began to unearth. I'm straight? Wha? For a moment, the angel hybrid had questioned his sexual orientation further than he had ever in his life, even when he had discovered that woman had no longer no appeal to his taste. Instinctively, his hand slid down his slim for, gliding over his chest, stomach, circling over his belt until he felt down over the side of his jeans, fearing they might have changed bodies for some horrible and unfair reason. The reaction toned down when his unfocused eyes fell upon Rio's own hands as they felt their own way down her figure in the essential parts that told apart between a man and a woman. That's when, in another late reaction after a hilarious but horrific outcome, the man came to grasp the answer of why he questioned himself: it wasn't real. The grip, unfortunately, wasn't tight enough and slipped his mind as easy as it came. A simple side began to relax the tensed muscles of his slim figure as the same smug expression came to play over his lips. "Pfffffft." The sound came out more exaggerated than it should, stressing the sound for several of seconds before huffing a laugh only a demented or high person could ever embarrassingly express in public. "That rack," the voice picked up to a more coherent pace but it began to slip again, "could easily be faked by those balloons, you know? Fill 'em with water. Jiiiiigle." Another deranged laughter escaped his lips, his hand coming to hold over his sides as his body momentarily bounced, drowning in the sounds of his own joke. The second statement the vixen nearly sneered stung in his inside but the memory just left a sharp pang over his head. Drunken thoughts sometimes did miracles to hilarious remarks. "That's why I'm the woman." Gerard explained his theory simply and almost very matter-o-fact if it weren't for the occasional slurs his lips let slip when moving. His feet changed positions only to make an attempting fail to slide up the chair once again. The fitting form managed to only slid up over the back, resting back again in a slump, zoning out right in the fervent action just to cause the glass bottle to slip from his hand and full with a muted thump on the floor, doing no damage. The enhanced reflexes would have caught the falling bottle in time, but with only 10% of his will and unnatural movements working, the bottle had been barely caught by a handle curving over the edge of the neck of the bottle in time before any sharp contacts with the floor. As if the moment had enlightened the incoherent man, his figure poised back with jagged movements and uncertain difficulty up on the chair, reaching for the cigarette he had settled before getting himself wasted on the vanity mirror. The fingers rolled the white stick over the wood until it fell on his lap. "That's why we're so attracted to each other. You stroke me as a lover." His lips hinted the only smile of a self-satisfied smirk, the fingers busying themselves over his raven locks, waving and twirling around, mocking what the woman had done prior to the situation. "Like this." His eyebrows gave a hazy flicker, his eyes squinted naturally than before from withholding so much dream-like reality. The fingers snaked back to where the cigarette had fallen to, plucking it from two fingers, tucking it in between his lips but not firing it. "It makes very sense, much." Then he produced a lighter which presented itself in front of the white stick, giving it several of twitching flicks over the wheel to incinerate the object but the spark never got the the leaking gas. The purple object landed then across the room from a powerful but mindless chuck from the man's part, his deep greens disappearing and reappearing in different locations like a flickering flashlight. "You're awful, I love you."