your beard is fabulous never shave
   âââ  was just waiting for someone to bring that up !!

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â

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@dracoqi
your beard is fabulous never shave
   âââ  was just waiting for someone to bring that up !!
Marvelâs Iron Fist Official Trailer [x]
You think the four of you can save New York? You canât even save yourselves.
Defend
   âââ  starter call !!
            â my instinct is to avoid violence.  â   alertness highlighting the natural repose to his tone, gazing with strongly marked apprehension.   being in the presence of a known malicious force ââââ  the very  storm  he vowed to hold back  âââââ his mind  remains  bound  to  instinct.     â  when  there  are  more  peaceful  alternatives.  â
//: starter ( @silfursvik )
            â  you  look  tense.  â   upon  observation  of  a  faltered  form ---------  he  would  hope  to  emit  the  assurance  of  his  own  composure,   fragilely  tethered  to  some  abstract   (  more so naive  )  sense  of  unbridled  optimism.    â  there  is  no need to be alarmed.  â
//: starter ( @shadowported )
           â night  is  the  ideal  time  for  schemers  and  adventurers.  â   a  figure  perched  atop  wooden  steps,  cloaked  in the obscurity  of  his  own  shadow  from  the  steady  moonlight  weighing  over  his  shoulders,   gaze  trained contently  before  him.   â  i  wonder,   which  are  you ?   â
//: starter ( @nightclawed )
   mmmm the way danny wears a jacket without a shirt to show off his mark, thatâs the good shit
   ---------  starter call !!
back here. Â all threads dropped, message me if you want to continue one. Â iâll be posting a starter call soon. Â iâve gained some new followers since last month, still working on adding back/seeing if they want to interact.
â» âč â á¶ËĄá”á¶€Êłá” á”á”á”á”ËĄá”â âș  âȘ
considerate as always.
dannyâs reminder is helpful, because she wouldnât have remembered, not in the wake of blood and a bullet wound. such things tend to send her into AUTOPILOT, and she nods, a little embarrassed even as her fingers itch to reach for the forceps and gauze, to at leaststem the bleeding for him with pressure, and settles instead for helping him onto one of the many empty cots. his abilities are all listed in a file, locked away in a safe inside a locked room, with his codename: IRON FIST, labeled at the top, and sheâs read those files on all her patients a hundred times, but god damn it if she doesnât FORGET.
â right, right, â she responds, tilting her head and sitting down in her chair near the cot, within armâs reach of the gauze ââ just in case. â you wanna talk about what happened, or you want me to make you some tea? â
 COMPOSURE  UNDER  THE  lock   &&  key  of  silence,    where  he  may  withdraw  his thoughts  from  the  unnerving  depth   of  reality ---------------      vanish  out  of  life  as completely  as  if  to  delve   in  a  realm   of   absolute   spirituality.     for  a  moment  hues  dance   in  pursuance   of   this   resolve,   though  upon  realizing  its  absurdities  they  divert  to  her  own  steady  gaze.     â  yes,  we  can  talk.   â    weary  repose  to  his  tone   ;;  the  young  divine,   with  his  deathly   fatigue  defined  so  heavily  by  strained  brows  upon   withered  hues,   can  sense  his  waning  attention,  though  he  does  little  to  impede  it.      â  ------------ i  could  use  some  company.   â
@silverheartsilverskin cont.
TENSION  UNFOLDED  IN  THOSE  weary  hues,   though   eminent   with   the   directness  of   his   solemn   fervor,   laced  in  genuine  concern  following  closely  by  each strain  of  motion.      dwelling   on   the   brink   of   exhaustion,   he  can  scarcely  conjure  the   combative   energy   to  rise.     only  by  unmitigated  will  does  he  interrupt  his  state  of  rest,    forcing  himself  away  from  any  form  of  support,  oblivious  to  the  inimical   stings   from  countless  wounds    ( for no bodily  harm  could  amount  to  his  mental  state  of  entropy  ).     jaw  set  firmly  against  clenched  teeth,   he  cloaks  all  such   pain under  a  composed  facade   ;;  an  ever-recurring  torture  to  be  felt  at  any  moment  in  the  midst  of  his  struggle.    â  i  canât  explain  everything  in  the  little  time  we  have.   â   Â
stifled,   soundless,   each  word  drawn  out  to  the  repose  of  his  fatigued  form  as  his  gaze  settles  upon  the  depths  of  her  own  blue  hues.    â  you  have  to  trust  me.  â    taking  her  hand  in  the  grasp  of  both  his  own,  a  caress  so  tender,  &&   withal  so  unobtrusive,   removing  the  ice  laid  against  his  cheek.    an  absurd  request ------------   how  can  he  ask  for  trust ?     he's  been  trained  to  kill,  not  protect,   how  can  he  even  trust   himself ?    a  living  weapon  immune  to  all  forms  of  apathy,   he'll  have  to  defend  her  from  his  own  destructive  behavior  before  anything.     â  ------------ itâs  very  important  that  you  do.   â
â» âč â Ëąá”á¶€á”á”Êłâ»Ê·á”á”á”á¶°â âș  âȘ
â    ââââââââ-  tell  me  youâre  here  to   assist  in  patrolling  the  streets  .    â    thereâs  humor  in  low  timbre  ,  red  -  clad  feet  planting  themselves  beneath  a  building  ledge   ;   she   hangs   upside  -  down  ,  arms  cross  âgaist  her  chest  .   (    despite  defensive  stance  ,  a   dimpled  smile   remains  on  her  face  .   )    teeth  bared  ,  friendly  visage  ,  she   grins   widely  .     â    could  use  some  extra  hands  ,  yâknow  .    â
    â   --------------- OF COURSE.   â    natural   repose   to  his  tone,   a  certain  essence  ( or lack thereof )  that  exudes  neither  senses  of  hostility  nor  appeal.   rather,   a  distinct  absence of  feeling  cloaks  these  misty  hues,   latent  in  depth  by  flaxen-clothed  facade,   despite  the  steady  gleam  of  moonlight  now  weighing  down  upon  them.    â  i  could  use  company on  a  night  like  this.   â
â» âč â Ëąá”á”á”Êłá”á¶€ÊłËĄâ âș  âȘ
     She canât HELP but feel a little apprehensive. From previous experiences, strangers havenât exactly been TRUSTWORTHY    And Kara is fully aware that judging strangers is impolite, especially when she has no prior knowledge of who or what they may be. But itâs become second nature to be MISTRUSTFUL. Like itâs the only way she can protect herself from being manipulated like sheâs been SO MANY times in the past. So she stands    Steadfast and assured ( outwardly, anyway ) that she would not waver if he intended to fight.   Â
         ADVANCING  NOW  IN  THE  MIDST  of  curiosity  ( over hostility )  he  finds  no  reason  to withdraw  from  the  light ------------  that  gleam  weighing  down  on  his  shoulders.   the  innermost  depth  of  his  mind  devoured  by  dusk while  the  shadow  of  his  figure,  which  the  moon's  shine  casts over  the ground before  him,  is  tremulous  with  the  repose  of his  appeal,   a  contrast  to  the maskâs  vehement  nature.   within  the  assurance  of  his  grim  facade  hues  fall  upon  her  form,  marking  that  quiet  state  of  wound.   â  you  can  trust  me.  â