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@argentaeglantine
indie rwby oc; formerly argentaeglantine. blog under construction.
finally made the new blog. please like if you want me to follow you there again. i don’t have a lot of time right now so expect a very empty blog, but i’ll fix it all up tomorrow or over the weekend.
486
This blog will be archived. I’ll be starting over. Part of my very big problem with this blog is that I’ve gotten bogged down by all the things that’ve happened here and my expectations with it. I want to start fresh. It’ll take some time to set up but hopefully this will work. If you remember me, thank you, and I remember you too. Hope to see you again soon.
where there’s ashes
One whole wall of Gen’s room has mirrors in it, floor to ceiling, which tends to unnerve the few visitors she’s welcomed in here. (People don’t like looking at their own reflections sometimes. She made herself get used to it.) The other walls mostly have posters, either of ballet productions Gen has performed in or wants to perform in, though she wouldn’t admit that out loud. Gisele, Swan Lake, The Nutcracker, The Sleeping Beauty. Unsurprising to anyone who knows her.
The new addition to her room, however, surprises her more than anyone else.
To the right of her bed, just beside the poster of A Midsummer Night’s Dream, are words in an unfamiliar hand. Whoever--whatever--wrote them did so with their finger, in what looked like soot.
Hi, I’ll be rooming with you for a while. Please don’t freak out, I’ve seen that a lot already. Just want some food. Thanks.
It wouldn’t be so alarming if it wasn’t for the fact that Gen isn’t looking for any roommates. From what she’s been taught she knows she should call someone--the landlord maybe, or the police; but from what she knows--her instincts, which she’s always trusted most--she’s aware that it won’t do anything. She’d just be the crazy ballerina who lives down the hall.
Not like she wants her hunch to be right. Of all the things to happen, she thinks, half in frustration and half in embarrassment.
Still, that evening, there’s a second plate at the table. Turkey wings from the little restaurant across the street. If Gen is wrong, she has a bit more to eat. If she’s right...well. She’ll have some praying to do.
About the Mun [repost, don’t reblog]
Tagged by @brxkenoak
i. NAME / ALIAS. Ciel. Samantha if you’re close enough. ii. BIRTHDAY. June 28. iii. ZODIAC SIGN. Cancer, the Ox for the Chinese zodiac. iv. HEIGHT. 5′4″ v. TIME. 7:20 pm at the time of typing. vi. SLEEP. 6-8 hours. vii. FAVORITE BOOKS. The Book Thief by Markus Zusak, A Song of Ice and Fire by George R.R. Martin, His Dark Materials by Philip Pullman, The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Heroes of Olympus by Rick Riordan, By the River Piedra I Sat Down and Wept by Paulo Coelho. viii. FAVORITE ARTISTS. Vincent van Gogh, Caspar David Friedrich, and Jacques-Louis David; among my favorite contemporary artists are my sister, Cassandra Jean, and another whose art I love and who uses a lot of gold leaf but I can’t for the life of me remember her name, sadly... ix. LAST MOVIE I WATCHED. Deadpool. Thank fuck. xi. COLLEGE. *sitcom laughter* xii. DREAM JOB. Working in a library, or anything to do with the dissemination and/or protection of information, especially if I can help disseminate it to those who really need it. xiii. THE MEANING BEHIND YOUR URL. It’s...Gen’s....name...
Tagging @smokingsilas, @writers-geek-realm, @teamarscandfriends, @team-ravn, @ask-team-clst, and any other mutuals who want to give this a spin.
A Familiar Face in Broken World. (Closed)
@argentaeglantine (Heyo. I’m moving this over here so we don’t have to deal with the ask and answer boxes. Considering you and I occasionally write novels for replies…) (Here’s the OG post.)
It was her.
He held her at first just to assure himself it wasn’t an illusion. His thousands of questions fading as he held her close. She would tell him in her own time. When she hugged back it slowly started to sink in. Then he held her for an entirely different reason. He was afraid she would disappear again…
It was actually her. She was here...
He smiled for the first time he had in what felt like years as that brief fear subsided. If he was honest with himself, he didn’t want this moment to ever end. However a howl from a wolf made him stiffen and pull away eyeing the direction it came from. There was nothing in the immediate vicinity.
Nature it seemed had other ideas. The worsening weather and the fading daylight only added to its end. He took a full step back to look at her. If he could think of any words to describe how she looked. That is aside from how elegant she always looked…
It was tired. The look on her face was something he’d seen many times on anyone who was still fighting the impossible odds. Hell, he even saw it in the mirror.
He smiled a bit again as he gestured for her to follow. He took the step up into his temporary home pushing open the door again looking back. “You’re in luck, I’m just about to start dinner.” He huffed out a small laugh. “I hope you still enjoy my cooking…”
He stepped aside a bit holding the door open for her.
The wolf’s howl made her jump slightly too, looking back at the snow, but that was instinct more than anything else. It was all right. Gen turned back to him; the embrace was regretfully gone, but she tentatively still held his hand. Her eyes were fixed on him, shining with tears that didn’t want to fall.
“More than anything,” she murmured in response. After all that’d happened, she was out of practice, but her lips assembled a clumsy little smile. The sun, burning brightest at its end, was behind her, casting her in quiet shadow.
Gen stepped inside, taking the little house in. It was warm, made her shiver. Nothing here suggested permanence, but Ren being Ren, it still felt comfortable. The warmth made her realize how tired and cold she’d been, walking all this way for so long. Worth it, she thought, puffing out a breath and pushing down her hood. It was worth everything. Her hand tightened around his, as if to subconsciously make sure he was real.
“How...how have you been?” The words were pushed out timidly; she was afraid that wasn’t a good start. But it was all she wanted to know.
pros and cons of slytherin house
pros:
great at lying to get out of things
very loyal to their close friends
kings of debate
powerful allies because they can and will go big or go home to prove themselves to you
classy as hell when they want to be
can dress very very well
know their way around people and manners
cons:
over emotional and can be stupidly impulsive because of it
stubborn and big headed
cruel and cutting personality when they’re not trying
very stressed
they’re that one kid in class who calls out the teacher on being wrong and pisses them off so the class has to deal with the annoyed teacher
try too hard and crack and you’re left to pick up the pieces
most likely to act on bias, so they’re judgy dicks
other houses: (x) (x) (x)
Nothing Personal || Closed Agents of SHIELD AU with smokingsilas
“That’s a damn shame. I thought they’d still be desperate to put people out in the field and do some dirty work, if the injuries were minor enough by their classification.” Silas exhales slowly.
He coughs, rubbing his sternum with his palm to soothe himself. “When I was in Ukraine, and ran into a small group of Russians that were getting too close for comfort. I did what I do best. Kill them, quick and clean. Rummaged through their dead bodies and found HYDRA trinkets on them. So first thing I did.” He pulls out his phone, waving it. “Made a direct call to your boss, telling her where I am and what’s going on in the immediate area. She told me there was an agent coming my way in the area, so I may or may not have done a proximity search on who is around, and I came upon your files. Besides, SHIELD or HYDRA, that’s an extremely easy choice to make.”
Oh, so it was right then. Gen flushes slightly, remembering that near-disastrous miscommunication. Out of instinct she pats his back as he coughs, then draws away.
“I’d believe you, but some people have chosen very differently,” she says dryly. “Or, well--in some cases it’s made for them." Moving over to the doorway she glances out to see if a doctor or nurse will be coming, or at least poking in. None right now. It’s rare for a patient to go for so long without being professionally fussed about. Might be pushing their luck now, though.
“Guess I should be heading back now. Sleep and all. You should be getting some rest, too.” Putting a hand on the door, she attempts to joke, “I’m going to miss hearing you snore loud enough to wake the dead.”
Nothing Personal || Closed Agents of SHIELD AU with smokingsilas
“Well most interrogators don’t even give me a chance to talk. I have a shiv and find my way out one way or another. I’m extremely cynical when I’m captured. If I make them hate their job, they wouldn’t want to do it. Gives me more free time to play with my restraints and escape.” Silas nods. “But the times they did, well, I didn’t develop Stockholm Syndrome. Also, I knew who you were when I first met you, that’s why I enjoyed it.”
“Bless MacMillan’s soul though. He’s gotten my back for the longest time.” Silas peers around Gen, seeing if there are any doctors around for the time being before stepping out of the bed, stretching just a slight bit. and sitting himself up without the bed frame’s support. “Have you gotten any new missions as of late? It seems boring for me to stay in bed while you go out there and risk that pretty neck of yours.”
“No, none--the higher-ups are none too pleased with me for sneaking out, so I’m probably stuck at the house doing the boring work for a little bit. And I’ve barely just been given the green light by the doctor.” Gen shrugs. “We’ll get to risk our necks together again soon, not to worry.”
She watches him sit up and stretch, watchful for any signs he’s overexerting himself but knowing enough by now that he’d keep doing it anyway. So long as no doctors come nosing in, he won’t be in any trouble. At any rate, there’s a question pressing in her mind, surprise that doesn’t immediately show in her features. “You already knew who I was then?” she asked, tilting her head. “How?” Eventually agents will hear about one another from common friends and colleagues, but until recently, Gen only knew of Silas from files kept on him, or that included him; their lines of interaction never intersected significantly, she assumed, until they actually met.
Nothing Personal || Closed Agents of SHIELD AU with smokingsilas
Silas nods, pursing his lips as he does so. Well she does have a point. Granted he’s been in much worse. He’s been tied standing up, upside down, downside up, sideways, caged, the whole nine yards. It certainly didn’t all take place during selection. He is human after all. Some mistakes got him captured, and frankly, some escapes were easier than others. “Well getting tied up by an extremely beautiful French agent is better than Chinese backed extremists in Xinjiang or the Russian separatists in Kiev. Besides, I got a feeling that’s something you’re into. Maybe. I’m not sure. It seemed like you enjoyed interrogating me at the time.”
He gets the tablet, swiping through and setting up payments to be sent in increments of an hour within each other to the dealer. Silas yawns. Being bed ridden does make him tired for absolutely no reason.
“The old man is someone I’ve never worked with in my life. Hell, I’ve never met him face to face except only one time when MacMillan and I had to link up with him in Xinjiang, investigating what the Chinese were doing and selling that information to the Russians. And that was cause our exfil was through South Ossetia.” He shrugs. “When I got my ass locked up in the shittiest part of Siberia, he got me out, and nagged the entire trip back to the Western Russian border where I got dropped off. To him, I’m like an annoying nephew that keeps getting into trouble and breaking shit. MacMillan was the good kid between the two of us.”
“Is that how you managed to escape before, charming your interrogator?” Gen crosses her arms and narrows her eyes coyly. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re the one who enjoyed being tied up.”
She is a little into bondage, but there’s no way she’s giving Silas ammunition like that; lord knows what he’d do with it. And either way, she hadn’t been thinking of anything so base that time.
At Silas’s story she doesn’t offer much in the way of commentary at first, choosing to listen with a thin, amused smile. Gen never gets tired of hearing these kinds of stories, and he seems to have so many of them. “Personally getting you out of trouble and chewing your ear off; sounds a lot like a dad, too,” she remarks, “and you and MacMillan were his kids.”
Nothing Personal || Closed Agents of SHIELD AU with smokingsilas
“I knew exactly what I had to do, believe me.” His eyes matched her’s upon seeing how deep his accusation hit. Of course Silas trusts her, but he knows to keep his wits about himself. It’s the only way to stay in business. If you didn’t well, you’d end up dead or brainwashed. A message goes through to the Agency tablet, notifying Silas that his order can’t be processed due to the current time being. “Son of a bitch.” He would’ve thrown and broken the tablet, but it wasn’t his, and frankly, he doesn’t feel the need to be paying money for it. Silas takes his phone out, texting MacMillan’s distributor to see if they can get him “the usual” directly and within 48 hours.
Within minutes, the phone rang, a grumpy, extremely salty Russian on the other side of the phone. Silas talks over the yelling, speaking a mix of Russian, English, and specks of Mandarin and Cantonese when the guy tries to change languages to throw him off. If anything, it got worse when Silas proposed the price, stating that it’s all he has. “All right, thanks old man. I’ll make sure-yeah I know you’d have my ass staked in the middle of Donetsk right now if you were a millennium younger. No I don’t care about what your old ass did in Chechnya. You’re old enough to be there during the Bolshevik Revolution selling Mosins to the communists or something. Yeah, thanks. Bye.”
He hangs up, looking back at Gen and shrugging. “MacMillan’s dealer works in the Moscow underground. Kremlin has a love hate relationship with him cause he sold arms to all the Warsaw Pact states when the USSR fell and have most of their brass by the balls, but he was an information broker when the Russians were in Chechnya and now the regions of South Ossetia and Abkhazia that are both part of Georgia. Frankly, for a price, he’d get your ass out of any Russian gulag.” He places his hands back on his lap. “So, did you miss me when I was gone?”
Very quickly she lapses into her ‘default’--that is, observant silence, as the conversation breaks off and Silas takes his call. And very soon her eyebrows rise, and rise higher, as that call goes on. She understands everything Silas is saying perfectly, and although she can barely hear whoever’s on the other line, she gets the gist of the conversation well enough too. There’s a fine line between bewilderment and amusement, and situations like this straddles that line like...well. One gets the idea.
It takes quite a lot of willpower on Gen’s part to keep herself from bursting into laughter, or giving some sort of scandalized gasp. Another language that Silas is flawlessly fluent in is cussing.
He hangs up, explains what she’s more or less gathered in a very matter-of-fact way, and Gen allows a bemused smile to break through. “Yes, I definitely missed hearing you cuss at your friends and nearly getting killed with you. Could never have lived without it.” Gen rolls her eyes in an attempt to sound sarcastic, but she goes on, “It’s infinitely better than when I was trying to kill you.”
LAPIELDEIMAL.
“couples that clean blood off of each other are couples that stay together”
((Wanna throw this up there real quick. This is an Agents of SHIELD!AU inspired drawing of @argentaeglantine and Silas. I talked to her and pitched the sort of kit Gen would war and got her blessing nonetheless. Also want to thank @kumafromtaiwan for doing the commission despite the heavy number of references and amount of other things to do, Chinese New Year included.))
I am always wanting to write Rated R material threads but I’m never sure of who would be comfortable doing so. Can roleplayers please reblog this post if you are fully comfortable writing mature subjects in your threads? { Blood, gore, murder, alcohol and drug use, hack&slash etc. } I’d like to find out by this post who IS comfortable with these types of roleplays rather than making someone uncomfortable just by asking. Thank you!
||⚜|| Lily watched her crack the egg and everything was recorded in her photographic memory. Every last detail. Which, if you asked her, she’d reply it sucked (not in those words exactly) because that got tedious. At times.
“ Uhm. Sure. ”
She took one egg from the carton, and copied her movements near precisely. She wasn’t as fast and a small piece ended up in the mix.
“ ….applying hand eye coordination to that was more difficult than I though. ”
«——•}I|[
|| ☽ || Her eyebrows raised, openly impressed at how quickly Lily picked it up. “You still did great, nonetheless.”
Argenta took a fork and quickly teased out the bit of shell from the bowl. “We’ll need to crack a few more eggs, then beat them with the whisk. You have to move briskly, or else it spills.”
Send me a “ 🔥 “ for an unpopular opinion.
Bonus points if you include a topic. ( IE. shipping, roleplaying, ect. )
Nothing Personal || Closed Agents of SHIELD AU with smokingsilas
He attempts to sit upon hearing her voice. There is some feeling regained. Yet, parts still feel numb, and his fingertips still feel cold. A smile is written upon his face. “Well, I could be better if I was standing up and running around. Feeling the world, and you of course. But anyways, I’m bed ridden, and lost approximately $250,000 of equipment, if not more. Now I gotta get whatever the armory has or what SHIELD can afford to repay me in.”
Silas looks right at her eyes. “So I did have one question though. Why did you come back for me? That certainly wasn’t your style. If anything, this situation was supposed to be turned around.”
At his remark about feeling her, Gen rolls her eyes, but she laughs a bit too. If he can crack jokes, then he must be feeling a little better. Definitely not fully recovered, but he’ll live. It’s a big relief, and more than she can really show.
She meets Silas’s eyes, but once he asks the question she averts them, smile turning into an uncertain frown. Not because she dislikes the question, but because she finds herself asking it too. Even with all that time in the hospital to think, the why never really crossed her mind.
After a moment of thought she shrugs. “Why not? You tossed me out a window and tried to be a hero by getting captured, and I had to sit in a hospital being talked to like a little girl while knowing you could end up worse than Perrault back in Manila. Not to mention the response team they sent after you was shockingly slow. I couldn’t not go.”
“Tried is the magic word, kitten. It was a perfect trap if they were actually smart enough to set one up.” Silas’s eyes narrow slightly. “I’m only asking cause I got a glimpse of what they’re capable of. Brainwashing, nanotechnology. They can be or manipulate anyone on this planet. I’m only doubtful because they could’ve gotten to you.”
His mouth hisses as though poison has been spat. It’s spiteful for the mercenary to question his partner’s intentions, but this is what kept him alive for so many years: the intuition of doubt after a moment of chaos, asking questions no one usually asks.
“There is a possibility that there are sleepers within SHIELD itself. I’m open to that hypothesis after going through what I did.” He laughs to himself. “Just so you know, I bit down on some cyanide before they can brainwash me like how they did to Agent 33. It was either save me and beat information out of me, or lose an asset.”
“I am not one of those sleepers,” she says immediately, although the insinuation hits deep. If she is, then SHIELD would’ve found out while treating her. Then again, who knows how far HYDRA’s gone with their brainwashing. It’s a reasonable concern; but it’s almost hurtful to hear him imply that she didn’t do what she did of her own volition. She brushes the nagging feeling aside.
“Aside from that, I see your point. Given how many people were actually theirs from the start, and how many went over, I wouldn’t be surprised if we still had little birds around.”
At the mention of cyanide she presses her lips in a thin line. Shrugs as a last-ditch attempt. ”You did what you thought you had to.”
