ʳᵉˡᵒᵃᵈ!

Ⅱ ⇾ a MARKSMAN who, by a contract with the devil, has obtained a certain number of bullets destined to hit without fail whatever object he wishes. six of the magic bullets are under the marksman's will, but the seventh is at the absolute DISPOSAL OF THE DEVIL. ( an indie, private & semi-selective braig/xigbar roleplay blog. )

[freischutz]

       ---- WHO COULD EVER possibly have a sleep schedule so fucked up that they would take a nap at eleven pm? Xigbar.

[twilight-turk]

“Thats what I thought.”

The redhead digs through his inventory for a moment, searching for that magical drink that did wonders for all sorts of ailments, and for injuries as well.

“Here.”

[freischutz]

       ---- HIS THANK YOU came in the form of a low grunt, an obscure form of gratitude indeed; but he accepted the offering nonetheless, downing the bottle’s contents in the span of two large gulps. 

       FULL RECOVERY HAD not been an immediate blessing, but his mood had definitely improved upon swallowing. He knew these things took time, and he was capable of ignoring his impatience as he stood up straight, for once today.

       “So, when does the poison ya’ mixed in this kick in?”

[twilight-turk]

“I’m aware of how untrustworthy I look. But from one person who looks like the last you’d wanna trust to another, you’d have trouble finding any other good Samaritans that wanna come near ya. So, I’ll ask again. Want a potion?”

[freischutz]

       ---- HE WAS SILENT for a moment, almost as if he was contemplating the inquiry. Cynical as always, he'd been about to deny, perhaps make another ‘witty’ comment or two, and walk away -- but the rise of substance from the back of his throat was enough to earn a simple acceptance, instead.

       “Yes. Give it to me.”

[twilight-turk]

@freischutz | Cont. from: X

“Get off your high horse, Grandpa. I’ve seen rats that’ve looked better off than you do at the moment. What’d you do? Fall off the goddamned clock?”

The redhead rests one hand on his hip as his head cocks slightly to the side, giving it a light shake as he looks at the elder man, who looked like a breeze might well blow him over. “You need help, dude. How ‘bout a potion?”

[freischutz]

       ---- “Hah. Always a pleasure t'meet a guy who watches rats in his free time,” he joked, paired with the quirk of an eyebrow. Okay, so, maybe one of the Heartless had gotten him too -- being sick had lowered his natural guard and instincts formidably; and now he was stuck gripping his stomach like he’d just eaten too much dessert, or something.

       “Why would I take a potion from you? Sorry t’ say, you don’t look like most trustful guy in town.” Probably because he was about to throw up; that was a good enough reason in itself -- not to mention Xigbar’s own appearance was no familiar neighborhood friend. He was just being stubborn.

[freischutz]

“Whoa, are you okay?”

not doing too well starters // x.

       —- “Who asked you?”

       TWILIGHT TOWN WAS the destination of the day yet again; the commonalities of the usual mission place no longer comforting, but rather blinding – though he was not one to get sick easily, he had not been feeling well ever since awakening. He’d stifled any complaints, however, carrying out with his mission; for it had been one of facile nature, the simple destruction of typical Heartless its only intention, regret only seeping in upon departure.

       HE’D JUST DEFEATED a pack when the unease set in again. His Arrowguns were weighing heavily in his palms, and he’d almost fell over as he walked; the mere voice of a stranger just barely enough to carry him back up, his pride peeking through his pain. It had been sufficent to straighten him up if not for a moment, as if he’d just been dragged out of water, sputtering and gasping for air – though he was still not any better.

       “I’m fine. Get lost.”

[freischutz]

“Did you just go throw up?”

not doing too good starters // x. 

       —- “Does it look like I did, kid?” The answer was yes. 

       STRANDS OF HAIR were wayward off his head, both silver and noir hanging loose from the elastic that held the rest together. His lips were twisted downwards, an oddity compared to the usual snide grin – a sort of expression unfitting for the man who wore sarcasm as well as him (for it fit like a glove, it was familiar; it was something he understood and knew how to sport). Visage was no different in the trend, pale and off set; appearing ill as the rest of him.

       “– Oi. Quit starin’, I said I’m good.”

[memes-for-the-rper]

Not-doing-too-good sentence starters

“Whoa, are you okay?”

“You took that hit pretty hard…”

“Don’t stand up yet.”

“That definitely looks broken…”

“Walk it off.”

“How are you feeling?”

“When was the last time you slept?”

“You look like shit.”

“Have you been eating enough?”

“Here, let me help you.”

“Why are you limping?”

“You’re really pale…”

“Did you just go throw up?”

“Why aren’t you eating?”

“______? You’re bleeding…really bad.”

“That looks infected.”

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?!”

“I told you you’d get sick.”

“How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Wake up–you were hyperventilating, are you okay?”

“It was just a dream, you’re alright.”

“Look at me–you’re safe.”

“Take a deep breath.”

“Are you bleeding?!”

“How’d you get a bruise like that?”

“What happened?”

“Let me help you!”

“Can you hear me?”

“You hit your head pretty hard.”

“Don’t move.”

“I know it hurts, I’m sorry.”

“Breathe.”

[freischutz]

OOC. why has this blog just become funny kh reblogs bye

[twilightown]

[doorbell rings] Sora: I’ll get it [answers] Xigbar: have u heard about our Lord and Savior Xehanort Riku: [appears and slowly closes door]

[starscream-moved-blog]

[cfmusings-blog]

           this CRUEL, callous world has               chewed me up and spit me out. 

[khasuf-blog]

Their eyes drifted lower and lower as he spoke, until they were fixed on his shoes. They weren’t supposed to–Chin up, this isn’t therapy–but submission meant safety so often it was hard to remember that they weren’t supposed to submit this way too.

They would have given anything to be back at the Superior’s feet just then, anything to not be under Xigbar’s gaze. They’d hunched in on themself so far their shoulders met their ears, and still they felt too large of a target.

“I won’t, Number II,” they responded automatically, thankful that the right title came out this time. Their hands weren’t shaking anymore, but they weren’t sure if that was because their magic was done recharging or because they’d clasped them together so tightly they couldn’t move at all.

[freischutz]

       ---- “Let’s hope not,” he grumbled, finally deciding to move, shoving his way past them. Despite his amusement that he always so gleefully earned from deprecating Isa, missions -- per usual -- had to be completed. Nothing would be achieved by simply fucking around (even though that was what he mostly did for the majority of the time regardless; but that was besides the point).

       “C’mon,” shot out over his shoulder as he walked, the call sounding almost kinder than his previous words -- not necessarily an intended variation, of course, though hopefully enough to drag the kid out of their almost mournful state nonetheless. 

[forgottenwind-blog]

“Yeah I read it–” A little. More like skimmed it if he had to be honest, but it wasn’t that hard of a mission that he really needed to read every single word of it, right? Plus he wasn’t sure if the rest of them really trusted his abilities all that much just yet. Who would give a hard mission to a newbie unless they wanted him dead…

Maybe that wasn’t a good thought to be entertaining, now that he thought about it. He wanted to be optimistic after all, and where would he go if the group decided they didn’t want him anymore? Ven didn’t want to really think about that either, this was all he knew for now… and he didn’t want to lose it so quickly…

“It’s just getting rid of something called a Tailbunker? That’s a kind of heartless right?” He didn’t know if these things had names besides just Heartless but anything was possible

[freischutz]

       ---- TRACES OF A smile lift the corners of his lips, a short reply exiting him. “Good. Then we’re set.” Whether or not Ventus was lying didn’t even grace his thoughts, really; he truly just didn’t care enough to bother questioning the boy on the matter. The Freeshooter trusted the other to that extent -- even if it was only the bare simplicity of reading a few lines on paper.

       “Well, what do you think? It’s not like we’re fighting-- I ‘unno, fuckin’ dragons or somethin’.” Ah, sarcasm evident as ever, Xigbar; left hanging off the tip of his tongue, bitter and malicious with intentions hardly ever cruel, simply for entertainment. Clearing up his throat, a harsh cough reverberating from his throat, he continued, as if for the sake of clearing any bafflement -- for Roxas had been fool enough to trust his jokes when he’d first joined their numbers, and who was to insist Ventus was any variant -- ?

       “Yes, kiddo. It’s a heartless. Let’s go searchin’, yeah?” He didn’t bother waiting for a reply, instead summoning his sharpshooters and swinging one over his shoulder -- the silent beginning of their hunt through the TOWN of accidental familiarity. 

[sustainingnocturne-blog]

A very loud groan escaped Demyx’s lips at that. “Come on man! And, don’t say it, I cannot go to another world without permission either… Ugh. No wonder the Organization is so boring. It should have been named the ‘Come join us so you can be bored all day’ club, instead. Because they do not tolerate anything you do if it’s anything else than doing missions!”

He pouted, before putting his Sitar away and crossing his arms. “They really want me to get killed huh? If I do not practice the Sitar, I cannot practice my spells. This means I’ll get all out of shape, play my spells the wrong away and bam, bam, bam, die.”

A long sigh escaped his lip, before he finally made eye contact with Xigbar again. “Let’s just do it this way. Do you, know a place for me to practice my Sitar?”

[freischutz]

       ---- “Doing missions is kind of, y’know, the intention,” he retorted -- and though he was not fond of missions himself, what had to be done, well, had to be fuckin’ done. “Maybe actually doing ‘em for once would make you less bored. Jus’ an idea.”

       (WHICH WAS PRETTY hypocritical of him to say, really, considering his own complaints on the daily. But that was besides the point.)

       “Uh--” Well, Demyx got him there. He pressed a finger against his chin, as if deep in thought, a single tap for each second that passed, before he spoke again. It was no mastermind idea of pure brilliance (in fact, it was kind of stupid), but the Freeshooter insisted it nonetheless. “I mean, there’s always the dungeon. You could jus’ lock yourself up in one of the cells and have all the annoyin’, loud fun you want. Doubt anyone would be lurkin’ down there to tell you t’shut up.”

[gunontherun]

“For good boys who finish their crust, we have chocolate cake. For those who don’t, you only get apple slices. So whats it gonna be?”

[freischutz]

       ---- “Good thing I like vanilla, then.” Fuck your crusts, grandpa. (And your apples. He’s not eating those either.)

[wordsnquotes]

Why be the sheep when you can be the wolf?

R.L. LaFevers, Grave Mercy  (via skythce)

[freischutz]

tagged by: @thelittlevvitch (thank u i rly like this meme wtf) tagging: i have no idea who hasn’t done this yet tbh so? whoever hasnt feel free to steal it 

MUSE AESTHETIC.

             REMEMBER TO REPOST & NOT REBLOG.                      FEEL FREE TO ADD TO THE LIST

bold the aesthetic for your muse italicize what can be taken 2 ways.

the softest palms that never want to touch you until after a bottle of wine. / “ just braid your hair if you won’t brush it, at least, you useless girl. ” / pulling on your skirt with one hand as you shuffle away. / “ you’ll get it done before the day is up. ” / guilt that isn’t yours to have. / it’s a crooked game, but it’s the only one in town. / chains. / “ how could you do this to me? ”/ the sharp sting of guilt. / you feel something even though you’re paid to do the opposite. / the family you never had. / falling backwards through time. / quicksand. / drowning, but you don’t save yourself. / “ you’re getting better. ” / “they smile like a snake.” / you’re the stars and the sky. / there’s a part of you that couldn’t stay away even if you were forced to. / they are your wings, there’s no doubt there. / “ let’s take off somewhere. let’s fly. ” / you edge a bit too close to the sun. / another ghost to take your place after every stumble. / deep roots in the ground slashed open in the sun. / rock candy melting in water. / waves rise and leave the foam behind. / the precipice you call home has a tip you’ll reach eventually. / happiness is the best front a man can take. / “ i’ve never seen someone as beautiful as you before. ” / you disagree; they’re more beautiful. / discomfort at the tiniest of touches. / the sky opens up when you see them. / rain comes down. / poppy fields. / your sanity hanging by a thread. / “oh god, what have you done?” / roommates weren’t supposed to be the smartest ones of all. / they’ve got a devil on their shoulder and an angel in their mind. / you try to help, but it only got worse. / now they’re dead, it’s all your fault. /

adam & eve in the garden. / a temptress in crisp button-downs./ “fuck, you’ve gone off the deep end, haven’t you?” / they lie so perfectly you almost forget yourself. / the spark that lit the kindling on your funeral pyre. / sugar and spice and a taste for the dark side. / yves saint laurent black opium on your pillow, a scented cloud drifting behind you like a cape. / crisp green apples piled up on the table. / your shoes are sharp, but your wit is even sharper. / what a pretty one, they say. / you laugh without humor. / a soft, hollow spot sits in your chest. / there’s a place you’ll never leave no matter who tries to stop you. / the seat of power fits like a glove. / heavy is the head that wears the crown. / you share a space, but not a mind. / they think you are weak; you are, maybe. / “ what are you going to do with all of these pills? ” / an empty bird’s nest. / broken pencil tips. / there’s an empty paper in front of you that you’ll never fill ./ “ we want you to succeed. i hope you can grasp that. ” / “ they weren’t there when it happened. ” / corruption. / there’s a red string tying you together. / the scent of whiskey on the horizon. / “ you’re the best friend i’ve ever had. ” / pink tipped fingers lock in secrecy. / 99 red balloons drifting through a hazy sky. / you try to lift your head up, but it’s so much effort. / always walking on sunshine. / there’s a million reasons to come down from the clouds, but you can’t be bothered. / hair twisted up with glitter butterfly clips like a haphazard mobile. / you drift, but you know where you’re going. / no one has any dirt on you because you’re infinitely spotless. / the empty side of your bed they crawled into when they were nine. / court hearings. / “ I miss you. ” / siblings are a funny thing. / they point out every family-shaped hole in every picture on the mantelpiece. / blackbird screaming / wake in nightmares / are you an illusion? / I don’t feel real.