TALE OF A THOUSAND TONGUES -- [FRANKIE]

[JAYME SEAN WARRENS]

hate your face, hate your lies and the blank look in your eyes,
- - -HATE YOUR NEEDS, HATE YOUR WANTS, HATE THE WAY YOU LOOK AND TALK*

Feet carried the body generously up steps, skipping one as they dashed toward the second floor. Jayme wasn't one to really rush home, but when it came to these circumstances, it was bloody-well needed. He couldn't hold back the vomit for very much longer, even though he held it down all the way from the asylum through the span on the bleached walls and through the haze of ocean-salt air. The stench of the staff members' personal perfumes sprinkled the air and nauseated the thirty something year old even more. Oh god, just a few more lopes and he'd be free to spew the Chinese noodles he munched down earlier. But as luck would have it, his stomach decided to flip flop one more time before spurting the contents out from within. Hunched over, knees bent with sweat spotted palms clinging to them, Jayme heaved and disposed of his recent lunch across the building's carpeted floor.

Atlantic eyes water with the combination of physical and mental agony as he wretched again. The smell of cheap noodles and mixed alcohol that came from him just made the guy gag more. Luckily enough his guts were clenched and dry. Still leaning over, tears fed at his cheeks as he lazily swiped the back of his hand across his mouth, cleaning up any of the slop that just came out of him. Vomit thickly sat on his tongue, body trembling with exhaustion of it's unpleasant feat. "Shit" the word slurred from his mouth as he examined the puddle of disaster, straightening himself as he did so. Well, as much as he should've, he wasn't going to clean it up just yet. Sure, that was sort of really disgusting and not many of the other staff would really enjoy the sight that plagued the hall, but it wasn't as if it was the first time they had to step around a pile of puke. He'd clean it up when he wasn't about to throw himself against a wall and fucking break every god damn thing capable of cracking.

Hopping over the mess he had made he slid the key into his private "apartment". There wasn't any dogs to greet him, both were in the midst of Nayeli's company - thank god, he couldn't take the sloppy kisses right now. Nayeli, heh, it was weird that she was the only one he really made any effort to see when he had returned to the island a little less than a month ago - except his brother, of course. There was always the silent pass [more like dodging] of the other guys, Frankie and them, but he didn't really feel like chilling with them. Things were hard to return to. Meaning, being the Jayme they all remembered him as was extremely impossible to settle back into. That's all they really all knew him for, the cheery, obscenely obscene, homosexual man they all fucking loved. Nayeli and Kenny were the only two people that had dipped further into the surface of his exterior. And that was for the fact that Jayme didn't really enjoy being a "burden" to others. He was the listener, not the speaker. He was the one always there for everyone else, putting their shit back together. It bothered him being the opposite, the one asking for the help.

Shoes weren't flicked off to the side as he slammed the door shut behind him, unfortunately he hadn't caught his boot mat's edge jammed there - leaving the lock just far enough from it's home to keep the door capable of opening to whomever wished. Hand swiftly grabbed the banged up remote that controlled his massive stereo, finger punching down the play button before the poor stereo remote was thrown against the wall. FFDP shivered across the space, the song that had been playing earlier this morning belting out it's lyrics. It was a sensible song for his rage, and did it ever fuel every single cell of his body. Now, although Jayme was generally a very calm and passive being, when he was revved up enough he was quite terrifying. He didn't really show his aggressive side, which left most people baffled when they got the chance to see him throw a few punches. After being ridiculed and assaulted for your sexuality you sort of get good at defending yourself.

Fists flung, destination being whatever they hit. Drywall with thick layers of paint got decorated with rows of spontaneous holes from punches, pictures flew across the living room and dissolved into tattered photo paper and glass. Bookcase was kicked over, literature sprawled across the floor as more chaos consumed the space. Next was the kitchen, a furious roar of pure betrayal came stretching out from the depths of Jayme's lungs as he flipped over the cheap table, a leg breaking off as it collided to the floor. A cupboard door was torn off and flung down the hall, attacking the front door with a blunt force "FUCK YOU, YOU STUPID CUNT!". Dishes of all sorts were thrown wherever they could be, the decorative ceramic now sprinkled the tiles. Stepping back a few, the enraged individual threw a all-foot kick at the lower cupboards - the type of kick one would use against a large branch to make it snap in half. Leg fell into the broken door, knocking over the random chemicals that sat underneath. "STUPID FUCKIN' DICK, COCKSUCKIN' BASTARD!" a bottle of wine was his next victim, the bottle spreading it's blood across the wall. "FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!"

Needless to say, Jayme wasn't having a very desirable early evening. But who could when their ex calls to invite you to their wedding that they're having with the guy they cheated on you with?

hate your voice, makes me cringe every time I hear you talk,
- - -IT'S UNCOMFORTABLE TO KNOW YOU SHARE THE SAME AIR AS ME *

tagged frankie outfit click
words 952 notes I missed my Jayme <3 lyrics 100 ways to hate - five finger death punch

[FRANCESCO DOMINIQUE CAPONE]

There was always one thing that got under Frankie’s skin more than anything else… Arianna. God damn that girl made him want to fucking rip someone’s jugular vein out. The bitch wouldn’t leave him be. She had already called him five times and he was getting more and more agitated each time. Not to mention Luciano kept asking who was calling. The problem? If Frankie told him, there’s a possibility he would want to talk to his mom… and Frankie really didn’t want to get stuck in that situation because, knowing Arianna, she’d feed the boy lies and false delusions that she knew would never happen-- such as “I’ll come visit you real soon!” or some shit like that.

Frankie glanced over at Luciano, a smile on his lips as the boy continued being sucked into the video game. Most people were worried shitless about Frankie taking care of a kid- especially on his own… but he didn’t think he’d done a bad job. Not to mention he had always wanted a kid. Sure, it wasn’t the little girl he dreamed of having… but he wouldn’t trade Luciano for anything. The Capone just fucking popped in him. Everything about the boy. His looks, personality, and even his temperament-- but that wasn’t a really good trait he had adopted, heh. Frankie’s kid was hell, that was for sure. And the more time the kid spent with Markus, the more he adopted different parts of Markus’s attitude. Frankie honestly didn’t care, though. He wasn’t going to stop the kid from seeing his uncle-- no matter how fucked up the guy’s head may be.

Frankie’s attention shifted back to the television, watching the soldier from Call of Duty run around and shoot at people-- the little soldier that Luciano controlled, of course. See, just when Frankie was starting to calm down, his phone started ringing once more. The male clenched his jaw and looked at the caller I.D. -- “Baby Mama” popped on the screen. “God fucking dammit!” Frankie snarled, forcefully pushing himself off the couch and walking to his bedroom before answering the phone. “What, Arianna? ” the male snapped, anger pulsating through his face as he leaned against the wall in his bedroom.

‘Frankie, I miss you…’

The male scoffed at the words, shaking his head. “Well the feeling isn’t mutual, Babe. I already told you I’m done. You put me in more shit and you agitate the fucking hell out of me.” That was one thing Frankie always had going for him. The guy was brutally honest when he was pissed off. He wasn’t an asshole all the time, but this girl just couldn’t take a fucking hint. “I know you, and you don’t fucking miss me. You know what you miss? The parties and the blow. Fuck that. I’m done with that shit. You need to grow the fuck up, Arianna. I’m getting tired of your shit.”

‘That’s not true, Frankie… I do miss you and Luciano.’

“Bitch, you don’t miss shit.” He snapped, clenching his fist together. “You miss the money and the fucking highs. If you cared for him like you claim you do, you would be here with him-- you wouldn’t have just fucking dumped him off seven months ago and barely have called to talk to him.” See, that was the real reason Frankie was pissed off. She had nothing to do with her son. “Why don’t you fucking talk to him, Arianna. Huh?”

‘Because I just… I don’t know. I’m just tired and need some rest… I’ll call to--’

“Cut the bullshit. You won’t call to talk to him. You’ll call to beg me for more FUCKING drugs and more FUCKING money. I don’t even want you talking to him because you’ll feed him bullshit, give him false hope, and make me look like the fucking bad guy again. Fuck that. I’m taking care of him now, not you, not my parents-- me. Why couldn’t you do it, huh? Oh, that’s right, because your parents wouldn’t give you any more drug money. And you know what? Even if you did have the money to take care of him-- he’d fucking starve to death while you rot your fucking brain.”

‘You don’t understand, Frankie. It’s not like that.’

“Babydoll, don’t tell me I don’t understand. I’ve been there. I know what Blow does to you-- I’m not fucking stupid. Look, I’m done with this bullshit. Stop fucking calling me.” And with that, he hung up, turned his phone off, and tossed it on the bed. The male rubbed his face, a sigh escaping his lips as he shook his head. He wished she had never came back into his life… but then again, if she hadn’t, he wouldn’t have Luciano. So it was a lose-win situation, really.

Frankie turned to face the wall and brutally flung his fist forward, the wall caving in around the male’s hand. It was obvious he had some temper issues, but he tried to be calm around his kid. He didn’t want Luciano seeing that shit. Not to mention he had been relatively sober for a while-- but fuck, he needed a drink now. The male pulled his first from the collapsed part of the wall and leaned his head against it for a few minutes, his eyes closed. God this was hell.

Frankie walked back out of his bedroom and glanced at the couch, faking a smile at Luciano as he walked to the kitchen. Reaching up in the top cabinet, he pulled out a flask and poured some of the hidden Jack Daniels in it, sliding the object quickly into his pocket and rehiding the evidence. The male turned on his heels and walked back out the kitchen, shifting to Luciano once more. “I’ll be back in a little while, kid. You need anything?”

‘Uhhh… nahhhh.’ The boy replied, still entranced by his game.

“Don’t burn the house down.” Frankie grinned before opening the door. “If you need anything, you know where Uncle Roland and all is, right?” Although Luciano didn’t reply, he nodded his head, still engulfed by the television. “I’ll be back. Love you.” And Frankie was out, shutting the door behind him as he walked down the hall. The male was frustrated, that was for damned sure. In all honesty, he hadn’t really “drank drank” in a while… over a few months. But that was about to be broken. He couldn’t help it. He was so stressed out from that bitch.

The male pulled the flask back out and took a long swig as he continued with his steady pace. However, hearing some racket in the dorm he just passed, not to mention some loud ass Five Finger Death Punch, the male took a few steps backwards, a brow raised as he realized it was Jayme’s dorm. He honestly forgot the guy came back… Well, it wouldn’t hurt to visit him, would it? Jayme generally put him in a good mood. “Huh…” Frankie muttered, noticing the door was open. The Italian gently pushed the door open some, rapping on it as he stuck his head inside. What he saw, though, he didn’t expect.

“God damn, man.” He said with wide eyes, looking at the hell the home had been through. Now this… this wasn’t like Jayme at all. So obviously, something wasn’t right. “Yo, Jayme?” Frankie called out as he walked inside the apartment, his eyes contacting with Jayme as soon as the wine bottle hit the floor and Jayme shouted out ‘fuck.’ God dammit. The destruction was unbelievable. It looked like a fucking tornado went through the place. “Jayme, Dude, what happened? Are you alright?” Frankie was genuinely concerned. He never… and I mean never saw Jayme like this… ever. This would be a hell of a conversation.

WORD COUNTxx
¹²⁸⁸
OUTFITxx
^{heeeerrrrrrr.}
PEOPLExx
^luciano.

[/color]
TAGxx
^jaymeeee
LYRICSxx
^{keep it in the family by anthrax}
NOTESxx
^{i tapped into frankie and he told me he was mad >.<
i planned on him being chipper, but… eh…
sorry it isn't that good. hope you can work with it.
if not, let me knoooooooow}[/blockquote]

[JAYME SEAN WARRENS]

hate your face, hate your lies and the blank look in your eyes,
- - -HATE YOUR NEEDS, HATE YOUR WANTS, HATE THE WAY YOU LOOK AND TALK*

Chest fluttered up and down in exhaustion and bitter distaste of the events that had been unraveled unexpectedly. His entire internals were shivering with pure disgust, how could he have wasted so much time and dedication to that fucking prick? Why did he throw even a shred of trust to the man? He should have known, should have expected it all - especially since the fucker had money coming out of his ass and was working to become a doctor. The stereotypical puppy dog newbies would be all over a gay sugar daddy like that. Fuck sakes, he didn't have a chance in Hell to make it work. I mean, look at him? He was a rough-neck version of the homosexual community, the majority of the people he met didn't even know he swayed that way until he personally announced it.

Blue specks sheltered themselves underneath lids as he shook his head tenderly, folding his arms across his chest as he did so. In his moment of contemplation with the thundering of the music hovering about, there was a voice of familiarity that crossed the space. Eyes ripped open, head jolting toward the bearer of the voice. Ah, Frankie, of course it was Frankie - who else had that thick Italian tone to a somewhat American voice? It was sort of cute [not in a gay way] how he sounded, trying to be all American like but failing because of those strong Italian roots. Anger flushed into a burning red which painted the man's cheeks, it was embarrassing for anyone to see him like this, but it was more so than ever considering he hadn't really talked to Frankie since his leaving.

Rubbing his face casually with one hand he chuckled in mild disbelief and somewhat humor, switching his eyes back to the Italian. With a shrug, his voice came pouring out in that classic bounce that he had always retained "Yeah, man, jus' doin' a bit of redecoratin'" Dipping a nod at the wine staining the floor and walls he smirked "Thought that would give a nice modern touch to the place, y'know" Pushing himself off the counter's edge, he passively contained his rage and skipped off to the living room. Gingerly hopping over the bookcase as if it was always there, he faded the music to a simmering whisper. Although he was trying his best to bury his problems, they resurfaced in his body language. Stiff limbs moved mechanically as he stepped to close the gap between the tall brute and himself.

A half faux grin crossed his face - he couldn't deny it was nice to see the fucker after so long and actually get a bit of time to visit with him.. he just wished it was after he got all this shit sorted out. Without hesitation Jayme wrapped Frankie up in his arms, crushing him with a hug before stepping back and shaking his his head "What're you up to, you fucker. I've heard 'bout some kid of yours or somethin'" Yeah, he was interested in the rumor that had been lightly peppered along the asylum, but it was really all tactical. He didn't want the conversation to be about him, so he was purposely turning it around.

hate your voice, makes me cringe every time I hear you talk,
- - -IT'S UNCOMFORTABLE TO KNOW YOU SHARE THE SAME AIR AS ME *

tagged frankie outfit click
words 540 notes so short and incredibly bad, but I need to make posts to encourage activity :/ I'm sorry. lyrics 100 ways to hate - five finger death punch

[FRANCESCO DOMINIQUE CAPONE]

Redecorating? Now Frankie was stupid, but he wasn’t falling for that shit… then again, Jayme probably didn’t expect him to… but who knows, this was Frankie, after all. It’s not like he’s the most intelligent fucker around. Anyways, he could tell something was bugging Jayme. The main thing? Well, look at his place. Now Frankie didn’t know much about gay guys, but he always heard they were clean. So this was out of the ordinary, right? It seemed like it was to him, at least. Plus, Frankie had never seen Jayme react like that… well, in a violent way. The guy practically destroyed his room, after all, so something was crawling under his skin. Anyone could see that- even the dim witted Frankie.

Frankie’s eyes shifted from the disaster area to the lankier of the men in the room. “I’ve done some redecorating like this recently.” The male let a playful grin snake on his lips as he looked towards his friend. Yeah, everyone knew that Frankie had a bit of an anger issue when the time hit him well enough. He was generally a calm, loving guy… but there were those moods where nothing could calm him. Mainly it happened when Arianna was around- or mentioned for that matter. He couldn’t help but react violently when the girl was insight. She was the epitome of everything he hated. She was a no good druggy whore. Now, he was to blame for that, really, but he couldn’t help it. She turned out the way she did mainly on her own terms. After all, she could have chosen to go down a different path if she wanted to… right? He couldn’t be completely to blame.

“What caused you to go with the ‘extreme-psychopath-that-just-got-pissed-on’ decoration look? I thought about it myself not too long ago.” Oh playful little Franny. He was just trying to make the other male smile- that was something he enjoyed doing, after all… no homo, though. He just liked his friends being in a good mood. He wasn’t one that liked being pissy, either, and he really wasn’t in that great of a mood today thanks to his ex. Girls always had to fuck something up, didn’t they? Why couldn’t he just be ga--… nevermind. Just nevermind. He liked pussy too much to go homo. It seemed to work for Jayme, but he’d pass. He’d just stick with the high-class bitches that wanted to rob him blind of his money, take advantage of his horse cock, and put him down. Oh the joy in being a heterosexual male, eh?

Frankie could tell that Jayme really didn’t want to stay on the topic of what was under his skin. The conversation flipped so quickly he barely saw it coming. As the male squeezed him into a bear hug, the air released from Frankie’s lungs and a chuckle escaped his lips. “You been workin’ out or somethin’?” The Italian gave a grin towards the other male, folding his arms over his chest. “It’s like ya’ tryna squeeze the breath outta me.” His accent dripped off his tongue, letting his eyes shift to the male once more. He liked Jayme- no homo, though. He was a good guy. Honest, funny… and ya’ know, he was kind of a chick magnet. Girls liked gay guys for some reason. Frankie wasn’t complaining. Hell, he wanted to take Jayme around the mall like he was a puppy. Maybe he’d have beautiful bitches flocking all over him then.

It was only a matter of time before the kid thing arrived, eh? He chuckled softly and shrugged his shoulders when Jayme spoke of the kid “or somethin.” “Yeah, man. You’ve missed a shitload. Markus got Audrey pregnant, for one. That girl he’s been datin’. She’s due like any day now. Girl’s big as a fuckin’ whale.” Oh how pleasant. His brother’s girl was pregnant and he’s saying how fat she is. God Frankie can be an ass, can’t he? “But yeah… my ex contacted me- girl I was with back in Italy. Apparently I got her pregnant and she didn’t tell me. Turns out I’ve had a kid for about 9 years. What are the fuckin’ odds, right? She showed up on my doorstep and pretty much dropped him off on me about 8 months ago.” Frankie shrugged his shoulders. “He’s a little fucking asshole, too. Definitely a Capone.” the male gave a sheepish grin to his friend.

WORD COUNTxx
⁷³⁹
OUTFITxx
^{heeeerrrrrrr.}
PEOPLExx
^luciano.

[/color]
TAGxx
^jaymeeee
LYRICSxx
^{keep it in the family by anthrax}
NOTESxx
^{need to get muse working again…}[/blockquote]