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21+, independent, non-private and non-selective multi-muse blog featuring canon and original characters // played by angie.

[birdsigns]

@thesearetheirstcries

A small sigh escaped her lips, the beginning of a headache blooming at the very back of her head. She likely just needed a break from looking at the computer, which she was planning on doing. She hadn't realized Amanda coming into the office until she spoke, and she offered her a tired smile, "Nothing is bothering me, just a bit tired" she admitted, "Shouldn't you be heading home to the girls soon?"that was her plan as soon as she finished going over the files that were sitting on her desk.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ~ amanda rollins

“you say that, but you and I both know that we’re not going home until we make headway on this case,” amanda remarked plainly. as much as she loathed to miss her daughters’ bedtime, amanda couldn’t shake her duty to their latest victim — a little boy the same age as jesse. knowing olivia, amanda could count on her captain to carry the same flame. “if anything like that happened to one of my girls, I’d raise hell to find those behind it and hold them responsible. I don’t think I could sleep tonight knowing they’re still out there, walking free.”

[timeguardians]

~Open to all ~ Lizzie Novak

There's a moment when her eyes don't meet theirs. "I just-" Halting, she swallows down the next words. Words that still force their way up, despite better instinct. "I feel like you're hiding something."

[birdsigns]

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ~ stella kidd

from what she'd gleaned from violet, lizzie possessed a rare gift — the ability to perceive beyond the veil of surface pleasantries and facades, to see what made a person. it was, stella had to admit, an invaluable asset out on calls, where such penetrating insight could ease a patient's mind, or unravel a lie with surgical precision. despite this, stella found herself ever so slightly unnerved by the sensation of being seen through.

stella hadn't told a soul about grant being back in town — not even severide. she couldn't begin to formulate a thought, let alone words, about how she'd felt since that text message first popped up on her phone.

"i don't know what gave you that idea," stella muttered evasively, but not unkindly. "probably just going over our last call in my head, you know? i have to get those reports in before the end of shift."

[captain-benson]

Olivia could see the pain on her face as if it had been etched there for years. Amanda seemed to be drowning in guilt that she didn’t have to carry. No, she was certain the case hadn’t ended the way anyone wanted it to, but Amanda was doing her job; sadly, sometimes that was part of it.

“I know it was a lot.” Carrying the typical Benson compassion in her tone. “Days like this make the job hard to survive, I know that.” Olivia had days like that herself, days where it felt too hard to keep going, keep pushing—but there were too many people out there that no one was helping to not keep fighting.

Saving Amanda for a moment, Olivia let her switch the subject. “I came here with Barba a lot.” Since Barba had left SVU, she hadn’t been able to make herself come back here very often. Forlini’s had been a light in the dark a lot, the conversation calming rough days. “This place feels a lot heavier for me than it relieves me, but there’s days like today I just miss what it used to be.”

Olivia glanced over at Amanda. “Regardless of how you’re feeling right now, you didn’t do anything wrong Amanda. No one wants to have to make that choice, but the one you made probably saved 5 other lives in the process.”

[birdsigns]

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ~ amanda rollins

it pained amanda to admit it to herself, but barba had not crossed her mind very often since he'd departed the squad. she had no idea that barba and the captain fostered anything more than collegial affection between themselves, but it was clear from the wistful tone of olivia's voice that barba had meant a lot to her. hearing this from olivia, amanda was swept with a swell of appreciation for her former colleague, recalling his grace and compassion the time he'd interviewed her as a prosecution witness against chief patton. there were very few attorneys who could have put her mind at ease in the way he had, given what was at stake. somehow, amanda had known her words would be safe with him.

it proved more troublesome to heed her captain's next words. all of it sounded like an excuse; a futile justification to absolve her of guilt. well, perhaps amanda wasn't ready to let her guilt go. it was an insurmountable challenge to set aside, because she couldn't see another way — there would be no second chance to set things right. in the case of guilt, one could have it over doing something or failing to do something — and amanda felt it both ways. she'd pulled the trigger, and she'd failed to protect a girl who'd entrusted her with her life. no matter what olivia said, the guilt had settled and was here to stay.

"thank you for saying that, captain," amanda murmured anyway. "it didn't feel like a choice; it felt more like an action i took in the moment that led to a consequence i can hardly stomach — but i'll survive. that's more than i can say for esther."

[gloomglimmer]

›   A TENDER MOMENT OF CONFESSION.

“You must be blind if you can't see how I feel about you.”

“I shouldn't have to say it.”

“Don't you see?”

“Three words.” 

“If you want me to leave, I can.” 

“I would prefer if we spoke about this now.”

"You said you wanted to talk?

“Do you need me to say it out loud?”

“Let's agree not to lie to one another.”

“I think of you often.”

“I suspect you don't know how I truly feel.”

“Distance could not put a wedge between us.” 

“I suppose I'm not good at this.”

“What if I wanted it to work?”

“Do you care about me?”

“What more could you want?”

“I thought it was between us.”

“I don't do dates.”

“I don't do relationships.”

“You're different.”

“You're making it difficult.” 

[captain-benson]

Olivia could see the pain on her face as if it had been etched there for years. Amanda seemed to be drowning in guilt that she didn’t have to carry. No, she was certain the case hadn’t ended the way anyone wanted it to, but Amanda was doing her job; sadly, sometimes that was part of it.

“I know it was a lot.” Carrying the typical Benson compassion in her tone. “Days like this make the job hard to survive, I know that.” Olivia had days like that herself, days where it felt too hard to keep going, keep pushing—but there were too many people out there that no one was helping to not keep fighting.

Saving Amanda for a moment, Olivia let her switch the subject. “I came here with Barba a lot.” Since Barba had left SVU, she hadn’t been able to make herself come back here very often. Forlini’s had been a light in the dark a lot, the conversation calming rough days. “This place feels a lot heavier for me than it relieves me, but there’s days like today I just miss what it used to be.”

Olivia glanced over at Amanda. “Regardless of how you’re feeling right now, you didn’t do anything wrong Amanda. No one wants to have to make that choice, but the one you made probably saved 5 other lives in the process.”

[birdsigns]

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ~ amanda rollins

growing up in georgia, in that smothering house with her mother and her sister, amanda had never really known the gentle hand of a mentor. hearing olivia's words, a small part of her shrunk back — and the little girl in her bared her teeth, never having learned to trust another person's kindness. the amanda of today managed the smallest of smiles, knowing she had someone like her captain in her corner.

she'd learned, in her experience as a detective and now as a sergeant, that there was no clear delineation between right and wrong. sure, the courts could come back with a conviction, but true justice was rarely so black and white. circumstances beyond her control had led amanda to this bar stool at forlini's after ending someone's life, while battered mothers and wives rotted away in prison for doing the very same. fairness was certainly not the claim of this country's legal system.

"you ever done anything like that, in all your years on the job?" amanda probed, wondering if it was fair to make olivia relive her worst moments. she thought, given her captain's decades of experience, that olivia could show her the way forward. she had half a mind to turn in her badge, and never look back after the events of the day.

tilting her head at the mention of barba, amanda recalled their goodbyes. she hadn't heard from him since he'd left, and his presence and fearless advocacy were sorely missed. softly, amanda noted: "I didn't know the two of you were so close. we spent so much time together at work, already. I'm sorry that things aren't as they were."

[captain-benson]

Forlini’s hadn’t been Olivia’s usual place until her friendship with Rafael Barba had bloomed. This was his spot, and the place the two of them came to talk about wins and loses that they experienced in their day to day. Since then, even with that relationship damaged, Olivia still found herself here. It had brought her comfort in times she couldn’t find any on her own, that’s what made her stop tonight—it just so happened she apparently wouldn’t be sitting alone.

Olivia could see the large range of emotions that had to be flooding their way through Amanda, just by the expression on her face. It was rather evident that the other woman at least felt that the weight of the world was on her shoulders. With how the past couple of days had gone, she wasn’t surprised by that either.

“Well, I came here for the same reason. Old habits die hard, they say.”

She took a seat on the next stool down from Amanda.

“I’m not used to running into anyone here either, but I used to come here a lot to talk to a friend when I needed one. You look like you might need one tonight.”

[birdsigns]

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ~ amanda rollins

the last time amanda drank this much, her bank account had hell to pay for it. seeing someone she knew in her shattered state made her wish she'd chased down relief in the cards instead — at least there, in the smoky haze of an underground gambling room, she wouldn't have to be herself. but as soon as the thought entered her mind, amanda saw a vision of her daughters — billie and jesse, her two angels among the living.

that comfort lasted only moments before esther's face came to the fore once more. esther, twenty-seven years young — now lying with the dead, downed by amanda's own gun. shaking her head in despair, amanda took another long swig of her drink before facing her chance company.

"I don't know what to say, olivia. today was... today was too much. I went in to help, and I ended up killing someone. that girl never knew freedom; never knew a life outside that house. and I went ahead and ended it — I did that!"

as soon as the words were out of her mouth, amanda wished she could take them back. a girl was dead, and all she could think of was her own engulfing guilt. she had no right to mourn, not when she'd taken a daughter from a family that had already lost so much. backtracking, amanda tried to paper over her outburst, hoping her captain might move on from her lack of composure.

"you said you used to come here a lot. why not anymore?"

[birdsigns]

@captain-benson

It had been a long day. One of those days where a person can realize how long it’s going to be by 10am, and that’s what led Olivia here; she didn’t often run into somewhere for a drink after work, especially with Noah at home with a sitter. Nonetheless, today she did. Dragging herself into Forlinin’s on the way home, to order her usual red wine. She had ordered for herself and taken a seat at the bar before she realized Amanda at the other end. Even by looks, it was fairly evident that Amanda was likely a few drinks ahead. Deciding it best to check in on her friend, Olivia stood to move down towards the other end of the bar. “Amanda? What’s going on?” Her tone quieter than what she typically spoke with.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ~ amanda rollins

it had been hours since amanda had taken her seat at forlinin's — hours since she had taken her first sip of whiskey, willing herself to be numb. her gaze bore madly into the bottom of her glass, seeing but not seeing. though her throat was suffused with the blaze of liquor, she could not swallow down the guilt that wracked her being. she could still feel the gun in her hand, inert yet deadly, and the imagined sound of the ricochet that ended esther's life.

shuddering at the sound of olivia's sudden voice, amanda turned to look at her captain. she could make out the offering of concern, but the rushing of her thoughts drowned out the words. as she tried to move her lips in response, amanda tasted the acrid bite of shame on her tongue — what could she possibly say to make up for what she'd done? she hoped that she'd managed to rearrange the desolate expression on her face before she spoke.

"captain — I — I wasn't expecting to see anyone I knew here tonight. I come here every now and then to get away from it all. what's brought you here tonight?"

[birdsigns]

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ~ carol peletier ↠ @wexarethewalkingxdead

all her strength had lain in building a safe place for her little girl. even before the dead came, carol had managed to sustain her hope with the smallest of things — the soft gusts of wind carrying the sweet scent of magnolias, and the mottled light dancing across sophia's slumbering face. she'd taught her daughter how to hear the murmur of pursuit in ed's footsteps, and to leave his darkness behind for the cicadas. it was all they had in that place — the morning fog over the bayou, and each other. as shane ran a damp cloth over her quivering hands, carol felt the last of her soul drain away. his was the gentlest touch she had known from a man in years. in the quiet of the glade, the sophia of her memories took on a new face — one with milky eyes and a numb, snarling visage. a face that no longer had the faculties for sweetness, for joy... nor for fear. only now could carol see her recollections as they truly were: colored each day with the stench of her cowardice. not once had carol entertained the insolence of plotting an escape, not even when ed's fury tore through the household, leaving terror it its wake. in the morning, she'd handed sophia the scissors: to take care of the stubborn gray strands at the nape of her neck, just out of reach. that was the most she'd ever done to fend for herself, let alone her daughter. carol had always been too soft for this world. even now, she could hardly meet shane's gaze, knowing he'd risked his life for her sake. and for what? carol had let her well of tears run dry, and everyone else had paid the price. "i taught sophia to be afraid — that was my doing. i'm the reason she ran away," carol whispered. with those words, she sealed her hope away, entombing it in the earth beside her daughter. no cherokee roses would bloom for her today.

[virtueofsanityx]

open for: m (romantic), any (platonic, familial) with: daphne vaughn (40, english professor) plot: ym showed up to daphne's place drunk and upset about something.

"you smell like a winery, look a bit rough, too." daphne's eyes trailed down the other, judgement clear and loud in her expression. "come on, come inside before someone sees you, what's wrong?"

[birdsigns]

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ~ amanda rollins

amanda shivered on daphne's doorstep, the surface of her skin laced with the fire of shame and malt whiskey. the past few nights had not treated her kindly, having swept her up in the wake of a fateful anniversary. it had been three years to the day since it happened — and even with all her study and survey of criminal behavior, amanda was still no closer to finding her sister. she was no believer in state punishment, but amanda needed answers to make herself whole again. every day, the ordeal of standing before a roomful of undergraduates chipped away at the fragile space she once held for hope. time seemed to take on a new distance and meaning as the memory of her sister's face began to dull around the edges. only the lull of the drink and the sweet respite of the playing cards could soothe amanda's roiling mind. slurring, she mumbled: "classes tomorrow... can't be fucked — none of it makes a real difference, anyway. they won't know until they're out there, and by then it'll be too late..."

[birdsigns]

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ~ stella kidd

the clouded fluorescent lights of the bus station flickered wearily as day turned to night. the smell of diesel fumes wafted forlornly between the bare trees, calling forth the long winter. between the buses, little piles of snow lined the asphalt like trail markers, clinging to the dirty imprints of chicago’s faceless wayfarers. among them, stella stood still, with a crumpled ticket in her hand. she had packed, along with a few sparse photographs and her lieutenant’s badge, a growing sense of foreboding that had driven her to run - to remove herself, like a blight, from the company of her loved ones. grant’s twisted face had branded itself through the annals of her mind, overwriting all the hours, weeks, and months that kelly and the firehouse had poured into her. no more, stella had promised herself. it was one thing for grant to bind her to house and home; to lay her darkly across wrinkled sheets and take her for his own. but it was something else entirely for his wrath to reach her in chicago. she had spent her youth and better judgment on this man, but no longer. the ticket in stella’s hand read los angeles, ca. every moment she had wished for another life, every moment she had yearned to free herself from his prison, streaked through her entirety. freedom was an earned, elusive thing - something she had never taken for granted. to be so close to everything she had ever wanted, and to have it torn apart by the malevolence of a past life, was excruciating beyond belief. there was no bravery in her deed - only a cold, cruel hope that she could save her loved ones from the dangers she posed. she could not stay; not with the shame of her younger days come to haunt her in the present. stella was never one for tears - not even when grant had her pinned to the wall, with no one to hear her scream for miles. back then, she had nothing to lose, and death would have been kinder to her. this disappearance was the coward’s way out; a chance to remake herself by laying waste to everything else she held dear. she would get another job in california. a hint of her bitterness prickled at her eyes, but only for a moment, as she let the cold come around to galvanize her. shivering, she forced herself to take one step, and then another, towards the idling greyhound that might just save her.