get ready!

are you serious? affiliated with kizna rp

[distantchill-blog]

@lunacaeruleus

                                 lowkey wants to punch asshat in the face for taking                                 fleur’s first kiss bc that was supposed to be his thing.

[distantchill-blog]

                   i’m lissa && im super duper gay!!                    anyway, like this for a starter of varying length! no caps for now!

[ofrespite]

‘ not at all! ‘ harrumphs!

[distantchill-blog]

                        “fleur, i can’t figure out if i did something wrong unless you tell me.”

[ofrespite]

                     ‘ oh. i see. ‘ now shes sad. fuck you slate.

[distantchill-blog]

                         ---stupid.. stupid, stupid him. “...did i say something wrong?”

[distantchill-blog]

                        ---”nothings going on in this ‘pretty little head’.” he’s not happy.

[backstxbbing-blog]

‘Right.’ 

                  That tone of pure hatred was enough to actually take Pratt back a step. He hadn’t exactly thought much on the Tavern being free, rather getting around with all his exciting antics had been his first interest. It would seem he hadn’t given this circumstance as much thought as his normal adventures. 

                   ‘I, well. I’ll go ahead and do that.’ Sauntering off like a pup with a tail between his legs. Pratt could easily facade his fear most of the time, but this guy– he just had this air about him that screamed he wouldn’t hold back with murdering Pratt. ‘..Do you uh. Want a drink too?’ A quick addition before he vanished, an offer of peace to make amends for his actions. (And to open opportunities for later.)

[distantchill-blog]

                             he has to actually stop himself from snickering when the shorter takes a step back just from the sheer viciousness rippling off his voice. he’ll never find that old, how people reacted when a tall, fairly well bodied man hisses something in such a way at them. and that didn’t even include the reaction to the guns.

“ah, yes. i suggest you very much do.” his tone, while no where near as venomous as it was before, still holds it’s sharp, cutting way of speech. when he’s offered a drink, a thick eyebrow cocks up, but his arms unfold and and lay comfortably by his sides. “why not. if you’re playing errand boy, shortie, then get me one as well. i mean, can’t let someone doing things for me go to waste, now can i?”

slate smiles, yet it’s obviously sarcastic.

[backstxbbing-blog]

‘Heyo.’

               A shoulder resting against the edge of the wall as Pratt stopped his previous approach to the stranger. ‘You got a spare coin? My pockets are completely empty and I’m quite literally parched.’ A question as nonchalant as his appearance before the man. A gentle white lie never bothered to harm anyone anyway and an extra coin in Pratt’s pocket was as great an idea as any.

[distantchill-blog]

                              his eyes narrow as soon as the shorter boy mentions money. did he looks that stupid to this kid? he adjusts the heavy coat he wore, trying to make the weapons it concealed seem less obvious. he didn’t want a fight, but he definitely wasn’t going to be giving up any coins when the tavern was giving out food and drinks for free.

“oh no,” the sarcasm drips off his voice like venom. he wants to make it clear that he thought this was ridiculous. “you need money for a drink from that free tavern? did you maybe, try going up to the counter and asking for one first?”

[necromxncing]

“No, no I don’t nee– okay, well I suppose I can’t say no to a free drink.”  She turned on her heel and walked towards the bar, plopping down in an empty bar stool and patting the one next to her to signal Slate to take it.  “I got your name from Fleur, but I’m not entirely sure you ever got mine.  I’m Sylvia.”  Offering him a small smile, she turned towards the bartender to order a pint of ale.

“Out of morbid curiosity, I have to ask.  How exactly do you know Fleur?  You two seem to get along exceptionally well, so I wonder if you perhaps came here from the same place?  I can’t imagine anyone becoming such fast friends in this place.”  She made some vague gestures, referencing the Inn around them.  “Honestly if I’m learning anything from being here it’s that I need my own space that isn’t crowded by a bunch of misfits.”

As the barkeep handed her the pint she took a large gulp, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand as she set it back onto the counter.  “She seems like a handful at any rate.  An adorably dangerous handful.  I suppose you’re a big tough guy though, you can probably handle a fight or two if necessary…although I have a feeling Fleur would end up doing all the fighting herself regardless.”

[distantchill-blog]

                               “a pleasure, sylvia.” he was perfectly fine with the cup of water he’d been given by the bartender, a displeasure for alcohol and his age combined being the reasoning. “i’m sure she blabbed your ears off. i’m so sorry about her. she’s talkative, and it tends to get her into trouble.” he would certainly know. the amount of times he’s gotten into deep shit because of that tiny thing’s blabber mouth was immeasurable.

“ah.. that’s something i’d like to know as well, really.” he shrugs, crossing his arms over his chest and taking a glance at the bright haired woman beside him. “when i woke up... i just knew that i knew exactly who she is. and she knew who i was. and so i just decided, if i knew her, then i’ll stick by her.“

slate laughs a bit when she mentions fleur fighting them all off herself, and nods his head in agreement to sylvia’s words. “she does tend to fight them all off barehanded on her own. though, they tend to not fight back once they see the sniper rifle strapped to my shoulder and the handgun by my side. they tend to get real quiet when those are seen.“

he exhales something almost like a laugh.

“i wonder why.”

[distantchill-blog]

[ofrespite]

fleur stilled when she heard his voice, and she realized he was holding her down. why was he holding her down? she didn’t know, but he was there, he was slate, and he wouldn’t intentionally hurt her. this she knew for sure, with every fiber of her being. she took deep breaths, trying to calm herself as he explained the situation. she sunk into his hold, a small loopy smile on her face as she was granted what she had wanted. the medic took this as a permission to go forward with her treatment, and she looked fleur in the eyes, mentally noting a few things about her. she sighed, standing straight back up and patching in for backup.

’ hello ? this is p223584, talking from the tavern random act of violence call area. the girl is in okay shape, but we need transportation to the nearest hospital. she may have a severe concussion. thank you. p223584 out. ’

she didn’t understand anything that was going on, and that made her a bit frustrated. why wouldn’t anyone tell her what was going on?! she moved her pupils lazily to gaze at slate, and she sighed, trying to catch his attention. when he finally did look down at her, she grinned lazily, lifting a usually strong hand up to pinch weakly at his cheek in a playful manner. anything to get her mind off of the situation.

the nurse studied the pair interactions and made a quick decision.

’ if it’ll make her feel more comfortable to have her lover around, you can come with us. just no making out while she’s in this state. its not safe. ’

[distantchill-blog]

                           his thumbs run back and forth over her arms which he currently held, as if he were trying to comfort her. the last thing he ever wanted was for her to start freaking out again, and for the medics to decide that knocking her out with whatever they were using was a better decision than having him comfort her so she didn’t try desperately escaping. he gives her the softest smile back when she grins up at him, obviously dazed, falling back into his arms. any other day, and he might’ve been embarrassed, and trying to push her away while fumbling over every single word he tried to say, but today he’s going to be quiet, and let her lie in his arms while the medic began checking up on her.

he lets her pinch his cheek, which he responds by raising a hand up to her own and holding it, giving her another weak, weak smile.

slate sputters when the medic calls him fleur’s lover, his cheeks reddening and eyebrows furrowing. do they really seem that way? he’s always assumed he just acted like an overprotective best friend, but apparently not, according to this healer. and making out. he wouldn’t lie if he said that he’d never occasionally let his eyes drift to her lips and wonder what it be like to have his own against them, but he’d never say any of that out loud.

he’d never considered doing anything else that.. shameful.

“i--i--i--i’m not! her l--lo--lover!” he stutters out, finding that words were difficult to form now. he certainly wasn’t doing anything good to help himself in this situation. “she’s just my friend! why... how would you even presume that we were anything like that?!”

perhaps he’s gotten a little too upset, but at this point, there was little that could stop the sniper.

[relincuo-blog]

     With his permission, Kura steps lightly in. The circular set up, at least of the lounge, would have felt warm if it had been filled with people and some airy chatter. Instead, it was empty save for the two, the books, and the rising noise that drifted up from the floorboards. She plops down into the chair with a foof due to the air in the cushions meeting suddenly with her weight. Kura blinks, straightening up in the seat and then slouching into it. It was definitely a seat she could fall asleep in. A hum vibrates on her lips as she adjusts her position so she wasn’t quite sitting in the seat as much as she was curled up on it. When she is about as comfortable as she imagines she could be, Kura glances over to him. 

      “It is a sad situation so anger and despair are both appropriate responses but I can’t quite work myself up to join them.” Kura lays her head down on the arm of the sofa chair. “Somehow the noise is amplified if you aren’t in the thick of it all shouting with them.” She lifts her head then. “But! Enough of that talk. Let’s see…You’ve collected a lot of books. Have you been here long or are you a particularly fast reader?”

[distantchill-blog]

                           another flip of the page, as he continues to read the book he was clearly far more interested in than whatever she was about to say, his foot tapping against the ground ever so subtly every few moments. spending enough time with fleur meant he was good at telling when people were about to speak to him, especially when he felt eyes stare into him. slate sighs when she does, closing the book momentarily with his hand inside on the page he had just moments before been reading.

“i could go down there and join. my friend is currently down there, most likely fighting some tall, muscly berserker with nothing but her small, bare fists, but i quite like it up here. it’s peaceful. i can barely hear their rowdy, drunken fighting now.” he brushes thick bangs away from his face and finally looks up at the woman, giving her is attention. “i’ve been here all day, just reading. it’s relaxing. and since it’s so quiet you could probably even nap up here, that is, if you want to have all your belongings thieved off you.”

[ofrespite]

she groaned as she heard him knocking on the door, knowing fully        well who it was. she hoped he would take a little while longer        to come and wake her up, but alas. she was fucked. why        couldn’t she just sleep in a little bit longer? she had stayed up        all night, afraid of the memories that kept randomly appearing        out of no where, not sure how they related to her at all. a part of        her wanted to sneak into slates bed, but she was too shy to do        so just yet. she had to work up her courage.

       he tried to coax her with food, and she perked up a little bit,        knowing that he was using that as a trick to get her to wake up.        she didn’t care that it was a trick, though, and she grabbed it with        one hand, sitting up and rubbing at her eye with the other. the blanket        slipped down and showed her wearing his huge t-shirt. it embraced        her in a loose way, going down to her thighs. she wasn’t wearing any        pants, embarrassingly enough, but she was too tired to really notice.

       it hung off of one of her shoulders, showing pale lightly speckled skin that        was unmarred. taking a tired bite of the pastry, she got up from the bed        and walked over to the dresser, taking out her decided outfit for the day.        she got ready to pull his shirt off of her, but got stopped by two big hands.

                                                                             ‘ …what gives? ‘

       the words were murmured sleepily, and she huffed, collapsing back against        him as he held her–his–shirt down on her body.

[distantchill-blog]

                             his eyebrows furrow when he notices his shirt, clad to her small frame and far too big on it, slipping off one shoulder. he practically has to divert his eyes from the pale peeking skin, though he’s glad that she’s finally getting up out of bed and eating the pastry he bought her from downstairs. now, next thing for her to do was to not change in front of him like always and they’ll be all good. in fact, they’ll be perfect.  alas, he can never have things go his way, as she begins pulling the large shirt up, her upper thighs peaking out and causing him to stand up from the bed and immediately move to pull her---his--- shirt back down.

“i feel like you forget i’m here sometimes.” he huffs out a sigh, letting go of the shirt once he’s sure she wont try doing that again. “i mean, really, do you have no shame? i can’t even change in front of you and yet here you are.” surely he can’t be the only one embarrassed by this. he’s even trying his damnedest to hide the way his ears begin glowing a shade of red, hoping that his hair is enough to hide it away from the half awake girl.

he’s even more surprised when she falls back onto him, not too much of a bother considering her size and weight compared to his own, but still a very big surprise.

“when you wake up properly, i’ll leave the room so you can get changed, got that shorty?” slate shows her a warm smile, though it’s clear by the tone of his voice that he expects her to be up and ready very, very soon, else he’ll have to ask yet again. any more asking and he’ll get tired of it and do what he’s been doing a few times a week, going off by himself. 

“okay, fleur?”

[necromxncing]

Sylvia jolted to a stop as she heard the voice call out to her and slowly turned around to face them.  She loosened up as she recognized the boy yelling at her.  It was Fleur’s friend slash bodyguard.  Honestly, she felt bad for the kid.  Fleur was a handful and she couldn’t imagine trying to reign in that kind of personality 24 hours a day.  “Oh, yeah, that was me.”  She tilted her head curiously as he apologized; it seemed a little silly to apologize for something so minor.

“Sure she almost got me sent through a wall while I was in the middle of saving her, but I don’t mind.  Of course…I think she was mostly handling it on her own.  She’s so small, but so powerful.”  Sylvia gulped at the memory.  “I’ve never seen someone so short take out so many guys at the same time.  And honestly, I’m pretty sure she was the one who started it in the first place.  Either way, as soon as I realized those men were about to hit back I had to step in.

“It wouldn’t have been able to sleep at night if I didn’t do something about it.  Really, it was nothing.  She reminds me of my little sister just a bit…she’s not quite that…abnormally strong, but she has a confrontational personality as well.  I suppose it felt a bit familiar.  I’m not completely sure how you manage following her around all day to keep her out of trouble, though.”

[distantchill-blog]

                    he relaxes once he realises he got the right woman, rolling his shoulders a bit and letting out a relieved sigh. now that he knows he was correct with his watching, despite his poor eyesight. he can only guess it’s sort of like recognising fleur, he does it by hair colours. and who could forget such a bright shade of red? it stood out against everything around her, and he based his assumption off of that.

“yeah, she is real strong for her size.. “ he murmurs, a slight smile forming on his face. it fades away the second he remembers that he’s here to apologise for the trouble he’s now learning about, with fleur’s cutting of the details he really only got the short version. “that sounds just about right, with her constant troublemaking. but i’m glad you decided to step in and help her out. if she got hurt i’d be destroyed.”

he’s still extremely thankful. slate moves his gaze off to the side. “if it doesn’t bother you, could i at least make it up to you somehow? like, buy you something t eat or drink as my thanks for keeping that spitfire safe? i worry every single time she goes off somewhere alone because she attracts trouble like moths to a flame.”

[ofrespite]

ɛ ѵ ɛ ʀ y t i ɱ ɛ    w ɛ     ɱ ɛ ɱ ɛ     ||      s l a t e u r

[partidaria-blog-deactivated2021]

@@distantchill​ is in the line of fire!

      “ Took me long enough. ” Salvaging parts and working late shifts at the tavern brought extra weight into her pockets and cramps in her back, given the loads she had to carry between her “hobby,” and “job.” Easing herself into the cockpit, Raphaela adjusts the seat and lances over the control panel. Consisting of two joysticks, meant to control the arms of the mech, with two buttons on top (giving her access to rapid fire), and several buttons meant to switch between bullet types and switch between long range and short range ( as the arms of the mech served do more than shooting ), it was only an alpha version of her latest project. As she fastens her seat-belt, her eyes looked over into the outskirts of the community, to where a sole windmill is perched and the vast flower field remains. 

       The cramped shed that she found after days of wandering from the tavern from her initial wake had been her immediate place for work. Even if her room has been cramped with her potential case of hoarding, it felt more appropriate to sleep among in the storage unit she made it to be – despite how her canary despised the little space his cage was given. Anyways, there had been rarely a soul that traveled by as most had taken to watching the crowds, being in the crowds, drinking away to the tavern or following down the crosswalk in which led to unknown places which others rumored to lead to “home.” 

     Raphaela tightens the transparent goggles over her head as the grease stains brush against her sandy locks. As she pulls it down over her eyes,the side had been smudged. Fingers flex as she takes hold of the control sticks with her feet easing into pedals made of recycled iron. Most of the machinery she placed together comprised of second-hand material like metals from guns left unattended at the tavern to coins. Unfortunately, paint was sparse in her search and giving time to customizing the mech would’ve been too much for her liking. 

     As she presses down on the pedals, the machine throttled forward and barged through the opening. Whistles and chimes the machine broke through the eerie silence of the tranquil field composed of lilies and forget-me-nots. She squeezes a nozzle right under the control panel, flares commenced in the back from its pack. Momentarily, she and the mech glided down the way. 

 — Until someone was right in the way. 

    Raphaela narrows her eyes and squeezes the joysticks, making a hasted turn of the mech as it launches forward to the spill-out and barely brushes the back of the neighboring building. The traces of the warbot’s fingers against the brick made for several sparks to fly in her way, quickly burning her exposed shoulders ( which she hasn’t learned to cover up yet ). 

    With back towards the flower field, and testing area, and distance from the lucky patron, the engineer flexes her fingers and nods her head. 

   “ Sharp thinking there. ” Her tone couldn’t be accounted for sarcasm or genuine small talk. “ Even if you didn’t mean for it, thanks for helping me test out reflexes, ” the familiar smile returns to her face with a note of hummed cackle. Then again, she could’ve potentially taken a life had she not moved quick enough. 

[distantchill-blog]

                          bored, bored bored and more bored. a suitable attitude for a boring person like himself, really, but it doesn’t mean he has to do nothing all day, like he usually does. if anything, that’s just him solidifying the claims that he’s a boring person, even though he very much already knows it’s the truth. so begrudgingly, he’s taking a walk around the field of flowers, the colours of every single petal contrasting greatly against his otherwise shadowy appearance. it makes him think, maybe he should wear more colours? maybe he’d be less intimidating then. making friends in this damned situation is probably a good idea, fleur can’t always have his back, especially when she’s fighting up front and he’s hiding off somewhere ready to take out anything that’ll try surprising his team with one bullet.

idle hands play with the band of his goggles, the the things he substituted regular glasses for. he just disliked glasses, they sat uncomfortably on his nose and if he was in a bad situation, they could fall off, rendering him useless and in a tight spot. of course, this is supposed to mean that he should be wearing the goggles at all times, but slate was as stubborn as a bull and refused to do so, insisting that his eyes were otherwise fine unless he was in battle situations. in truth, he can see alright without them, being able to point out most things in his field of vision, despite their blurriness, but it was distant things that really got to him, and were why he usually wore his goggles while shooting his gun.

hoisted over his shoulder on it’s strap was his sniper rifle, always with him because he really has no idea what’s going to happen. and besides, he’s bored and if he finds somewhere alone and quiet, he can practice his shooting.

he begins walking across what he soon finds out is a pathway for a mech, and he completely ignores the sounds of a machine starting up and working, though he holds back a yell when he finally turns his gaze towards his side, seeing the large mechanical machine coming straight for him. slate begins running off to the side, barely evading it thanks to both the controller moving their mech and his attempt at dodging.

the rough sigh leaves his lips, he hand grasping at his rifle now slowly letting go. the blonde woman seemed far too cheerful for someone who nearly killed another, and he’s in no mood to go see a healer. “the hell was that?” he hissed, losing his otherwise perfectly held cool. “you trying to get someone killed by testing a mech out here?”

he sighs again.

[ofrespite]

she hears him comforting her, and despite his words his hand slips         from her grasp and suddenly shes thrashing. hes not there shes         not safe slates gone oh gosh help. she heard a medic yell about         holding her down, but she licked despite her condition, scared.         her voice got more frantic as she yelled for him.

                                ‘ slate! slate slate slate where…! w - where did you..?                                 d - don’t leave me oh my gosh slate slate slate don’t—                                 don’t go oh gosh… ! ‘

        tears lined her eyes and this time she allowed them to fall, her voice         rising to a crescendo as she kept thrashing. she needed slate or at         least something that let her know he was there. she needed him. he         was what kept her okay. gosh where was he.

                                ‘ oh my gosh oh my gosh oh my gosh oh my gosh                                 oh my gOSH OH MY GOSH SLATE!! SLATE!! ‘ 

        she couldn’t hear anything anymore, and she felt people pinning her down.         she didn’t know who it was who did it though.

                                ‘ she needs a sedative! hold her down! ‘

[distantchill-blog]

                           he’s now terrified, her frantic screams of his name set off all his worry, causing every alarm bell in his head to go off. he was told to let go of her but now she’s--- she’s freaking out without him by her side, this was something she’d never seen happen before, yet his terror is spilling out and he can’t seem to hold it back. they want to hold her back, but that would only make this worse.

“hey, fleur, fleur!” he calls out, trying to soften his voice. the last thing he needs is for his own worries and fears to show up and just make everything worse. he mumbles to the medic that he’ll try keeping her down, before turning his full attention back to his frantic friend. “it’s--- it’s okay! i’m still here, i’m not leaving you!”

an olive green gaze moves back and forth between the medic and fleur, her voices pitch raising as her horror becomes even more violent, as does her thrashing. someone needs to hold her down, and in a way, he just simply thinks that she might calm down a little bit more if he’s the one holding her. it’s a long shot, in her terror filled state, she mightn’t even realise it’s him.

he reaches for her arms.

“fleur, fleur. it’s me. calm down, i’m still here for you, okay? the.. the healer’s going to help you out now, so you need to relax. i’ll stay right here by your side, and you can vice grip me if you want to make sure i stay.” a shaky breath in. “okay?”

[future-gadgets-deactivated20160]

No point in beating around the bush.

“I’m going to cut to the chase. You’ve obviously been here a while, and I’d like to ask you about this place.”

It wasn’t the only reason to ask the boy. He was obviously much more relaxed than a lot of the Tavern’s other inhabitants, which meant one of three things: either he had been here long enough that he had sorted out how things worked, that he was from this place, or that he simply didn’t care. So far, Seth hadn’t heard of anyone who originated in this place, so the second option seemed unlikely.

At the very least, leading off with the most important question couldn’t hurt, especially since it was the least likely to be answered.

“Specifically, what are we all doing here?”

[distantchill-blog]

                           he huffs out a sigh. he knew the other was going to say something sooner or later, he just didn’t expect it to be so soon. placing his book down on the table, and looks back at the older man sitting across from him. “do i seem that way? because i’ve been here for about as long as you might’ve been.“ he shrugs a bit. “or you know, however long you seem to think i’ve been here for. who knows.”

slate lets the words be interpreted any way the other wanted them to be, whether he’s being an asshole or not is up to the other. he doesn’t really care how he’s seen, so what does it matter if the other asks him if he’s being rude or not?

“hoo boy, i wonder.. maybe we’re here as experiments.” he’s trying to be nice, but it’s really not in his nature to do so. “or maybe we’re.. just fuckin’ here because we can be. i don’t know, i’ve been here just about as long as everyone else. just woke up, you know? so i have no clue why you’re asking me, mister.”

he doesn’t like swearing, but honestly, this dude was asking stupid questions that deserved stupid answers.