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+---- Thread: You could say I'm a heartbreaker, 'cause the heart I keep breaking is mine (/showthread.php?tid=12315)
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You could say I'm a heartbreaker, 'cause the heart I keep breaking is mine - Colt - 01-01-2026
She's already starting to try and roll off him when he helps her along with a shove, turning her on her side, hanging over the drawer like a rat on driftwood at sea. After a moment of just hanging there, breathing like it's a chore, she shoves the drawer away and tilts back onto her ass. Her knees pull up towards her chest as she leans back against the nearest cabinet, head tilting into the side with a thump as she drapes her arms over the angle of her legs. [say]"Feel any better?"[/say] she asks, her full volume not quite back yet, but enough to slide it over to him. Her gaze soon follows suit, flicking off a wall towards the drag of his recuperation.
That last move had done them both in, something she's alright with at this point. [say]"I'm on the fence,"[/say] she admits with a wry smile, the threat of a chuckle winding up in her chest but not quite slipping free. [say]"Part of me feels better, part of me feels worse."[/say] The nervous energy from before is spent, but she'll feel the echo of this in the morning, that's certain.
Direct continuation of this thread [Training] Call me a teddy bear the way he stuffs me
RE: You could say I'm a heartbreaker, 'cause the heart I keep breaking is mine - Hawthorn - 01-01-2026
Trying his best to not wheeze as he gasps in a breath, Thorn tries to get his mind back into place and oxygen back where it needs to be. It takes him a moment before he manages it, his hand that’s pressed against his gut glowing with a golden shimmer as he heals himself enough that he doesn’t have to feel the bruising to his ribs. “[say]Kinda, not really.[/say]” He admits through a rough voice, finally picking himself up enough to turn and look back at her.
“[say]You want some healing?[/say]” He asks, shifting to sit amongst the destruction she and their spar had wrought on her kitchen, picking up a fork that had been flung someway or another to set on top of the island counter lest he put his hand down on it. “[say]That was exhaustin’, Colt.[/say]” He whines, taking his hands to ruffle through his hair, trying to brush it out of his face.
RE: You could say I'm a heartbreaker, 'cause the heart I keep breaking is mine - Colt - 01-01-2026
Too used to just gritting it and bearing it through pain, her expression lifts at the offer of healing, having forgotten he even could. Might be hard to believe with how often she tortures herself running up and down bad memories like a film strip needing editing, but she is not the sort to turn down feeling better when given the opportunity. [say]"Yeah, thanks,"[/say] she murmurs, to his offer. She extends her hand, leaning in further over her knees so she's more within reach of his touch.
Her attention follows the retrieval and dismissal of the fork without much impact on her one way or another. It does prompt a visual sweep of the space, which is giving all the signs of a post-apocalyptic house post raid. Their little match upended a few of the carefully balanced items she'd stacked up on her counters, which already are piled up into absurd heaps. She sighs audibly at the sight, seeming to fully recognize the obscene mess of it instead of a necessary step mid-demolishing aspects of her house and life.
She grows quieter when her tour of chaos lands back on him, as ruffled as she's ever seen him. Some of the nerves trickle back in, folding her inner lip beneath her teeth, because he seems to be no better off than before. [say]"Yeah,"[/say] she agrees, small and wary as she slouches deeper into the cabinetry. [say]"I kinda thought that was the part that'd help."[/say] Maybe wearing yourself out isn't the way most people deal with things, just seems to be the only way she can empty her mind these days. Shrugging limply, like she can't rouse an apology for getting this wrong too, she just taps absently on her knee. [say]"So what would help, Thorn?"[/say]
RE: You could say I'm a heartbreaker, 'cause the heart I keep breaking is mine - Hawthorn - 01-03-2026
Her acceptance has him leaning in, taking her hand with his and watching as the glow of gold arrives to soothe the bulk of physical pain. Emotional pain is something he can’t touch, though, so she’s left with that rather than the bruising that would likely come from their little spar. It doesn’t take too long, though, and when the courtesan is done, he sinks back to sit a little more comfortable, able to breathe a little easier without the pain of his ribs in each breath.
He looks up at her as her gaze lands on him, able to feel it just before she speaks and sags into the cabinetry. “[say]I’m not really a fighter.[/say]” So while it might help others to get the frustration out for fighting, Thorn’s always been the type to stray away from conflict. It’s why he has the job he does, why he has the scar on his chest. He hadn’t really fought then, either, even if he should have. And he didn’t have the healing magic to get the wound to heal the way he could now. So he’s left in a bit of a confusing mess as he shakes his head and draws his legs up, propping his elbows on it and runs a hand through his hair that he keeps there, ruffling his waves. “[say]I dunno. Talkin’ about it. Like why y’thought I’d not wanna be there for you even if ya thought that you were losin’ your mind.[/say]”
RE: You could say I'm a heartbreaker, 'cause the heart I keep breaking is mine - Colt - 01-03-2026
His admission is no surprise, and she nods faintly, hair fluffing up behind her with the motion. [say]"Yeah, me neither,"[/say] she agrees, [say]"least, not like this. Not really."[/say] She's used to fighting stubborn horses and carving out a living in the world, but until the Void inspired her to get stronger, it's been her arrows and dodging plates and heartache in equal measure. [say]"Coulda fooled me though,"[/say] she simpers, pretty sure in the end he'd really had her with that move. [say]"Felt good to fight back for once, in this kitchen, instead of just takin' it. Sorry it had to be with you,"[/say] she admits, soft and sighing. If only she'd had this nerve in her twenties.
She goes quiet again though as he adjusts, offering up his version, and it's no surprise that talking makes the list. He's a big proponent of it, and she isn't sure how it just comes so easily to him. [say]"Because,"[/say] she huffs out, gaze flicking away to train on a particularly interesting spot on the ground now. [say]"Figured you were enjoying the party, and were sick of hearing all my bullshit all the time. I didn't wanna wear you out, Thorn, especially since I wasn't even really sure what was happening."[/say] She leans in over her knees, chin resting on her hands. [say]"Everyone has shit to deal with, you don't need to shoulder mine too."[/say]
RE: You could say I'm a heartbreaker, 'cause the heart I keep breaking is mine - Hawthorn - 01-06-2026
“[say]Yeah.[/say]” Thorn hums, before his hand is descending into the wild waves of his hair, fingers getting lost in the poofiness of it. “[say]I know enough t’hold my own, but.[/say]” He shrugs, both shoulders rising and falling before he nods silently – happy, somewhere deep in him he can’t quite see right now, that it had helped her at least a little bit. He might still be upset, but she is still his friend, even if it feels like they still have some growing pains.
She grows quiet though and his hand falls from his hair to drop back to his knees, keeping his gaze on his hands and the vine tattoos that wrap around his wrists so he doesn’t have to look at her as she explains and decidedly doesn’t look at him either. It’s sad in a way, that there’s a sort of hazard and guard against being honest with ones feelings, but it’s a shield that both of them share.
“[say]I coulda helped. You’re my friend, Colt, I’m not just gonna get tired of ya because you’re goin’ through shit. Frey knows if the roles were reversed, you’d be sure I’d be gettin’ sick of ya with how much you’d be tryin’ to help and just hang out. ‘Sides, I’m grown enough to tell ya if I’m fuckin’ tired of it.[/say]” He trails off, shaking his head and reaching up with both hands to rub at his face before he exhales a slow sigh. “[say]I’m not, for the record. Tired of ya.[/say]”
RE: You could say I'm a heartbreaker, 'cause the heart I keep breaking is mine - Colt - 01-07-2026
With all the caution of a dog slinking back after accidentally biting at the hand that feeds, Colt's gaze slips back towards him as he talks. Her focus settles with a certain quiet, like she doesn't want to disturb what she's watching, else it might alter it. She doesn't mean to pry under the shield he's holding any more than she wants him doing the same, but it's an attempt to peek over the top of it, to compare vulnerabilities and see if they're protecting the very same thing.
She sits a little taller, the brace of her hands no longer needed to hold her head as she lifts it up. The edges of her that have grown sharp from honing on doubt and dismay soften, a weak smile melting into the corners of her lips. [say]"Good,"[/say] she declares, and the conviction she tries to hold steady wavers only a touch when fresh heat pricks at the corners of her eyes. This time, it's a welcome rush, relief and warmth cracking through parts of her as they swell. [say]"Because it was way worse without you, and I'm clearly still goin' through something."[/say] Her lips twist wryly to one side, lashes blinking away the dew of reassurance. Maybe there's something to this whole talking thing after all.
Her head thumps back into the cabinet, one knee falling as that leg straightens out flat before her. [say]"I haven't had a friend like you in a long while, Thorn,"[/say] she admits softly, gaze trailing down to the toe of her boot. Old friendships had long since withered beneath her late husband's insistence, and most of the ones she has now are mostly superficial. People that work for her, people she buys from regularly, people she sees often at the bar. Friendly, but not friends, not the sort you call on anyway. Sunjata may fall somewhere closer to the line, admittedly, but she tries not to burden him either, if she can help it. [say]"Kinda got used to doin' shit on my own."[/say] She glances back up at him, biting at her lower lip. [say]"And I feel like I'm always leaning on you, and it's hardly the other way around."[/say] Because if he thinks they're both a mess, sure seems he's always the one helping her clean up hers. Her fingers curl against her pantleg, nails scraping at denim. [say]"You know I'd be there, just the same for you, right?"[/say]
RE: You could say I'm a heartbreaker, 'cause the heart I keep breaking is mine - Hawthorn - 01-14-2026
“[say]Obviously.[/say]” Thorn mutters, rolling his eyes but there’s a huff of a laugh that leaves him as he offers her an easier smile as she takes his honesty to heart. It’s relieving to say the least, enough that Thorn starts to relax in between the exhaustion from using his magic and their spar. He can’t help the sarcasm that drips from his lips to hear that she’d needed him just as much as he’d selfishly hoped she did.
He nods to her as she takes him in, a knowing look on his face as he starts to relax, too. “[say]I hope you’re ready for me to not go anywhere anytime soon.[/say]” He points out, not just verbally but he also jabs a finger toward her with his insistence. He draws silent, though, as she continues and his seafoam gaze softens in understanding, humming another quiet laugh as he concedes the point. “[say]Yeah. I figure you’ll be there if it ever happens t’me, too. Why d'ya think I haven't been?[/say]” He winks. It’s already the thought in his mind that if he was fucking up like she’d been doing lately, she wouldn’t hesitate to tell him he’s being a dick or stupid.
RE: You could say I'm a heartbreaker, 'cause the heart I keep breaking is mine - Colt - 01-15-2026
Her smile cracks deeper at his obviously. Whether he means that it was worth without him, or that she's still going through something, or hell both, the humor perches cleanly among the rubble. Though it's far easier to tolerate the sharp press of sarcasm when she's got her own armor up instead of areas left exposed and vulnerable, it's nothing that tries to burrow in deep enough, just the scoring of truth on the exterior, familiar in its sting in a way that's more comforting than compliments have ever been.
A faint laugh huffs free, and she nods weakly, head feeling too heavy to do more than that. [say]"I'd not have it any other way,"[/say] she admits, to him being well and present. [say]"Can't promise I'm not gonna do dumb shit like run once in a while,"[/say] she sighs, a disappointment targeted at herself more than anything. [say]"Been doin' it too long to remember what stayin' feels like."[/say] Might be surprising given her tendency for bravado, but in most scenarios of fight or flight, Colt picks flight. She's been hurt before when she hasn't run, including most recently. One could argue running did her a far greater disservice this time, but from where she's sitting, she only fucked up when she ran from the wrong man that night, and even worse, stayed still for the one that wouldn't catch her when she fell. If she'd just run home, avoided everything, maybe this all could have died without dragging her under the corpse.
Swallowing back those thoughts, forcing herself to focus on the man that's on the floor with her instead. [say]"Well, think we ought to toast to shitshows and the friends they lean on,"[/say] she declares, rising back to her feet and offering him a hand for the same before busying herself with drinks. No rum, she dumped that on the couch when she set it on fire, but she's got most everything else on hand for him should he want it. She grabs her tequila bottle from the counter, holding it up to him with a shake and a lift of her brows as she hunts down two shot glasses.
RE: You could say I'm a heartbreaker, 'cause the heart I keep breaking is mine - Hawthorn - 01-16-2026
“[say]Yeah, well, don’t run too far.[/say]” Thorn says, peering over at her with a surprising amount of seriousness in his face – even if deep in the seafoam green of his gaze it leans more toward humor than anything else. “[say]I’ll have’ta get a leash or some shit. Like the one they get for kids that’s a backpack? I’ll getcha a nice pink one.[/say]” He winks, knowing that it’s very unlikely to be something she wants, maybe it’ll make it so she’ll actually tell him where she’s running to so he doesn’t have to worry.
Huffing out a sound of agreement, he hauls himself up too and stretches, wandering over to lean against the ruined counter top and watches as she finds the bottle of tequila and searches for two shot glasses. It takes him a moment to snag them, sliding them over toward where she’d left the bottle of tequila. “[say]Here.[/say]” He won’t say no to getting a bit fucked up, given the situation.
RE: You could say I'm a heartbreaker, 'cause the heart I keep breaking is mine - Colt - 01-17-2026
[say]"ThOrn!"[/say] she admonishes with a laugh startling free shortly after, unable to keep up the guise of scorn. [say]"I'd like to see you fuckin' try to get a leash on,"[/say] she challenges once she has breath back. Although he certainly seems to have more moves up his sleeves than she's given him credit for, but she's certain everyone he's ever tied up has been willing, and she would not go quietly into that good night. After a brief moment of consideration, she adds, [say]"It should at least be blue."[/say] Her features wrinkle with dramatic distaste at the idea of a pink tether.
Back on their feet, tequila in hand, Thorn spots the two glasses before she does. Her kitchen's a rather advanced game of I Spy about now, and she's no real interest in playing, but he's sharp as ever, or at least lucky. [say]"Thank ya,"[/say] she murmurs, setting them on the island top that's half-kneeling now, slanted where her hammer bit into the side of its structure. She pours them out, one threatening to slide down the ruinous slope, but she nudges it back into order with a flip of her pinky before turning back around to set the bottle aside. [say]"No clue where the chasers or salt are, sorry,"[/say] her tongue clucks with the apology, not seeming all that sorry about it. He'd have to take it or leave it, or play another round of Where's Waldo amidst all her crap.
She spins back around and claims her glass, lifting it up towards him with a slanted smile, holding his gaze over the shine of the liquor's top. [say]"To..."[/say] she hums with thought for a moment, [say]"messes. And the ones that help ya through 'em."[/say] Her lips quirk deeper into her cheeks for a moment, grateful in a way she can't rightly say, so she clinks and tosses the shot back like it could carry the weight of it instead. The burn hits, an immediate promise to smother the feeling of anything else, a coating she's tried to smother over all the hurt that's become embedded inside her until it yields to the greater sting of this drink. She sputters out a faint cough, one eye shutting as she tongues the corner of her mouth where some of the fire lingers. [say]"Much better with lime,"[/say] she groans.
RE: You could say I'm a heartbreaker, 'cause the heart I keep breaking is mine - Hawthorn - 01-18-2026
“[say]Mmm, nah. Pink. Or… Maybe yellow. I’d be content with yellow.[/say]” He grins over to her – sure that one way or another he could get a leash on her. It’d be like giving a psycho cat a bath, and it wouldn’t be pretty, but he’s pretty sure he’d give it a decent shot.
Hypothetically of course.
Nodding as the shot glasses are offered, Thorn shrugs to having no chasers – not like it’s the worst thing he’s ever done. If anything, he tries to keep the surface relatively straight despite the way the glasses slide and once he can collect his up, he holds it for their little toast. “[say]I’ll drink t’that.[/say]” He hums his agreement with a wink, shooting back the shot of tequila and feeling the immediate burn that threatens to press against his head and chest in a vice of heat.
Swallowing it down as she groans her complaint, he laughs out a smoky sound – throat a little raw from the liquor. “[say]Yeah. Can’t lie.[/say]” He wrinkles his nose before he huffs out another breath and takes in the kitchen and the destruction and mess. “[say]Alright, well, I’m here and about t’be buzzed in like.. five minutes. So, where’re we startin’?[/say]” Gesturing out with his hand to the mess, it’s clear he’s happy to help, his mood vastly improved.
RE: You could say I'm a heartbreaker, 'cause the heart I keep breaking is mine - Colt - 01-18-2026
Colt might be practical about most things, which might not seem like it in this very moment with her kitchen in complete disarray over a boy, but one thing she'll openly acknowledge is her weakspot is the color matching for the horses. Everyone has a set blanket color that must complement not only their coat, but something about them too. Boots and other accents, of course, adhere to this designated scheme, and it's probably the thing she yells at the hands about the most when they don't deign to follow it. In this reverse hypothetical, she could accept yellow as being her color, and she shoots Thorn a fondly exasperated look about the whole thing.
There is definitely tequila to be had that isn't quite so, sharp, but she's been hitting her bottles rather eagerly as of late so she doesn't have the smoothest stock on hand. They survive though, and if anything their combined moment of heated suffering makes her laugh, the sound a bit strangled by a cough as her throat is still recovering. [say]"Good,"[/say] she asserts, as if getting him buzzed is a matter of necessity. [say]"You'll finally be on my level."[/say]
She exchanges the tequila for her sunglasses again, slipping them on with a surprising amount of coordination. [say]"Safety first,"[/say] she explains. [say]"We are gonna break this into pieces so I never have to think about how well he fucked me on here every time I come into my kitchen for a snack."[/say] She draws in a big breath, but the sting she expects doesn't land as sharply as saying it inside her own head usually does. Not with alcohol and Thorn holding her hands, so to speak, now. [say]"Then we're gonna drag it out onto the lawn and set everything on fire and make the hands haul it off to the trash later. Then. Then, I will be free of him, I think."[/say] Not really, and she already knows that, but enough to not fold into despair just being in her own house, where it's supposed to be her sanctuary.
RE: You could say I'm a heartbreaker, 'cause the heart I keep breaking is mine - Hawthorn - 01-19-2026
He rolls his eyes in his own playful exasperation at Colt’s answer. Still reeling a touch from the shot, the courtesan tries to get himself into a perfect spot of buzzed but not too fucked up that he’s a danger to this very active plan they have going on.
Though as she explains, he thinks he might need another shot to just make sure he stays buzzed through all the hard work. “[say]Alright, sounds like a fuck-ton of things we gotta do huh?[/say]” He mutters, huffing a laugh as he rolls out his shoulders and opts for a pair of purely decorative glasses from work that really have very little use for actual sunglasses but are tinted pink and in heart shapes.
Looking back over at her as he finds a sledge hammer, he huffs out a loud breath and beams a grin at her, earrings glinting in the light. “[say]Tell me when yer ready![/say]” He hoists it up to his shoulder, prepping himself for the first swing.