unending.

i'll do this ALONE if i have to.

[grimself]

you saved my life… ( from angela <3 )

it's rare that he uses his weaponry against inanimate objects rather than people; forceful as they were, they'd easily torn through the plummeting debris, leaving it up to his gear-clad back to shield the fallen medic from the split remnants. a minuscule task as far as he was concerned—though he supposes that was just as well. it'd been a while since someone had been outright grateful for his actions.

"no problem," he says curtly for lack of better response. ( you're welcome. of course. you've saved many others ); each alternative more awkward than the other. looking out for your comrades in arms is a given. he doesn't garner much from the fact of saving a life itself—even if the acknowledgment settles his rush of adrenaline into a more mellow stream and placates the sense of guilt he'd felt from not arriving on the scene any earlier. "i'll take you back to base." out of place as she seems on the ground, he hoists her up without further ado. "high time to get out of here anyway." ( though he'd be back for sure. tie up loose ends and all. )

[grimself]

"i thought they’d never leave."

his eyes roll to match the echo of exasperation in his features—a modest attempt to cover up the unlikely ... nervosity that's still haunting him; even after the office door had fallen back shut and the lively chatter of their visitors had begun to dissipate in the hallways. "... ... you don't say." deadpan incarnate. from the start, he'd known this was a terrible idea. he's not shy of pointing out as much either after a singular heavy sigh heaved; tongue laced by a poor imitation of the blond's earlier reassurements: "'oh, stop worrying gabe. no one will come bother a commander this late in the evening, gabe.'"

[grimself]

redvisioned ✧ jack.​​

   “come on; i don’t snore that loud.” not that he’s ever heard himself snore, before. “i’m serious, gabe. it was like…something shuffling around in the walls?” the sound woke him only slightly at first. but by the second time it came around jack was fully awake, eyes open and his head snapped in the direction until his room went completely silent again. “and now that i think about it, i swear i heard the same thing the day before.”

      “louder than a UH-60,” he states matter-of-factly ( and decidedly without malice ). it’s a good thing his sleep tended to be deeper than usual when sharing a bed with his favorite human hay mower. “o.k.—” arms cross before his chests before he tentatively asks the question he doesn’t really want an answer to anyhow: “don’t keep me in suspense now. what type of eldritch abomination has been disturbing your sleep by scratching at your bed posts in the middle of the night?”

[flamestyle]

yo ! who want to interact with a silly guy who loves to cook. please give this a ↻ or ♡ if you are interested so i can check you out or if you would just like to help me out. thank you!

selective. ind. sanji vinsmoke rp acct. written by ellen.

[grimself]

in the middle of moving apts so i’ll get to things slow but i’m ... here >)

[grimself]

" i don’t have a clear shot! "

backtalking. he doesn't have time for it. least of all when he's one knife's blade and a ticking bomb away from being torn to shreds alongside anyone else within a 300 yard range. he'd wrestle the man in a more considerate manner if he could. "i don't care," his voice crackles through comms, impatient and tense. this hadn't been a mission that required a sniper on paper ... not that paper ever shows the whole picture. he can't say he feels particularly reassured that the one holding a rifle at the moment wasn't someone as seasoned as amari—but the kid he'd personally scraped off a burning-hot asphalt street a good while ago. technically, versatility is encouraged at HQ. in military, it's required. perhaps they should've switched roles.

"you have to shoot now." then again, he knows why they hadn't.

[multiparked-a]

            ❝ distracted ? that's not like you . ❞

gabriel was quite lucky, wasn't he ? he truly never seemed to be 'punished' despite his multiple digressions . not that angela wanted to see him in trouble — no, she had faith that deep down, he was better than that . rough on the surface but he still had a heart, no ? it's the reason she offered up the olive branch . the reason she let him get away with certain actions, why she tried not the question him ( only his methods ) . but this request ... she had to question .

painkillers ? there's a look of worry on her face at the mention of painkillers . immediate thoughts of him getting injured & not bothering to see her began to surface . her hands drop some away from the cabinet & the look on her face is for sure not pity — but concern . her eyes are far more innocent than a woman like her should ever look .

            ❝ why do you need painkillers ? is everything alright ? ❞

[grimself]

she's right. it isn't. or it wasn't. he suppresses a scoff. "not out there." god forbid he takes this habit to the battlefield. wouldn't last a day. "... but i'm sleep-deprived and your collection of drawers and cabinets are a maze." of course he hadn't bothered reading the package inserts of the non-effectual painkillers he'd found at the very back of his own medication stash either. maybe they would've worked fine on a normal person. he wouldn't know at this point. he'd gotten more sleepy all thanks to them—but not any less unbothered by his pulsing headache.

"now, don't you start worrying."

compliance is unlikely. doctors especially are tough nuts to crack. he heaves a sigh; wonders how much more trouble it might've been to break into a well-equipped pharmacy somewhere down-town instead. "i'm fine. it's just a migraine. pretty nasty one," he lies. or half-lies. it does feel like one. sensitivity to light and all. yet he's got his doubts. and zero desire to be sidelined from their upcoming event in monaco. blackwatch's leader is hardly prone to thumb-twiddling—especially not when his presence was uncompromisingly needed. "i just want to rest in peace."

[grimself]

redvisioned​ ✧ jack.​​    

   he remembers it well. the commotion it caused with the public and within their own headquarters and all. “you know that isn’t what i meant, gabe. that is exactly why i worry sometimes – i know you aren’t prone to failure, you’ll get it done however you can.” it was a metaphor, anyways; not a real suggestion. leave it to him to use it otherwise. slightly he frowns as his last attempt to get at least a hint out of him fails. there really was no changing his mind once it was up made, sometimes. jack takes a hold of the hand on his own face; and laces their fingers together. “alright. well, you owe me something.”

            “it’s one of my selling points,” he agrees casually with little regard for the implicit criticism. the public had been quite happy to watch him make drastic decisions when it’d still been to their obvious benefit. years come and go; now they preferred diplomacy. it’s not his fault their preferences had changed into a direction he could hardly provide. “you worry all the time. which is charming. ... on some days. but pretty pointless for the most part.” rather, if he’d given him reason to worry it was likely already too late anyhow. he didn’t get involved in matters with mere lukewarm conviction. “for example: this time, it’s really nothing to worry about. ... probably.” a pause. ( for a split-second, he thinks he’s heard something skittle above them ). he squeezes the other man’s hand, then rises abruptly and guides him toward the exit, the palm of his other hand pressing flat against the blond’s back for persuasive purposes. “i owe you many things. ... ... but i’ll get back to you later. it’s time for me to secretively do my secret work.”

[grimself]

"you know. i heard something strange last night."

"'something'?" already does he make a mental note to proceed with caution. he's been hearing something, too. the difference being that he knew exactly what'd been stuck in the vents for the past three days or so and at this point likely desperate to find a way back out—and jack didn't. he'd prefer to keep it that way. "it's odd you'd hear anything over your own sound snoring. ... rough day at work? i'm sure dr. ziegler can prescribe you some of those good nighty-night pills."

[grimself]

ass whoopery factory

[moosings-deactivated20231019]

RANDOM ACTION-THEMED PROMPTS

ₓ ˚ .   ୭   ˚ ○ ◦ ˚     as always, some triggering content may be present! change any pronouns to better suit your muse(s) needs!     ˚ ◦ ○ ˚   ୧   . ˚ ₓ

be careful.

that looks like it hurts.

we move on three, got it?

i’ll give you a boost.

found you some ammo.

don’t you ever point a gun at someone you’re not going to shoot.

get ready to run!

you’re bleeding!

we’re a team.

you saved my life back there.

can you show me how?

grab my hand!

you saved my life…

we need a backup plan.

wake up!

where did they come from?

what’s your status?

i’ll be back in ten minutes.

stop! think about what you’re doing!

where are we going?

did you find anything useful?

take it easy, you blacked out.

it’s my shoulder, i think it’s dislocated.

you’re not a bad shot.

why don’t you let me handle this one?

we’re gonna have to jump!

i need you to focus.

you need a break?

it’s alright. you’re okay.

careful where you aim that thing.

can you hear anything?

you look tired.

i’m gonna need to to be quiet.

do you know how to shoot?

did the bullet go through?

don’t come out until i say so.

come here, let me see the wound.

it’s my job to protect you.

i’m not going to let anything happen to you.

find cover!

put your weapons on the ground, now!

you owe me for this.

i thought i lost you!

i’m in charge!

that was a hell of a shot.

i’m low on ammo!

i’m on your side.

are we clear?

this better be important.

cover your ears.

you’ve looked better.

i think it’s broken.

quick! find a weapon!

can i trust you?

careful, it could be a trap.

sorry, that took longer than i thought.

watch your fire!

i need you to be strong.

are you hurt?

i thought they’d never leave.

you didn’t have to do that for me.

can you stand?

take all the time you need.

between the two of us, i’m the better driver.

here, have some water.

when i call out to you, you’re supposed to respond!

whatever happens, i got your back.

don’t aim that at me.

it’s not too late to do the right thing.

i’ll take first watch.

let me carry you.

did you do that?

don’t shoot!

where are you?

sit down!

look out!

i’ll look after you.

now’s not the time to be scared.

why did you do that?

alright, my turn.

cover your eyes.

you’re leaving me? here?

take a deep breath, squeeze the trigger.

that’s a long way down…

i’m not your enemy!

you need to slow down.

we should cover our tracks.

are we almost there?

how’re you holding up?

we need to get some sleep.

promise me you’ll come back.

here, eat this.

my head is pounding.

you have no idea how good it is to see you.

i won’t forget what you did for me.

please don’t do this to me.

where did you come from?

put that down!

what’s taking so long?

we’re going the wrong way.

that doesn’t sound very safe.

i don’t have a clear shot.

let’s finish the job first.

what does the map say?

i believe in you.

i appreciate what you’ve done for me.

i’m not a medic!

don’t touch anything. i mean it.

take the shot!

[grimself]

oh wow look at the time it’s high-

[multiparked-a]

it takes a moment, but the tenseness in her body loosens up as he approached . her eyes trace between the medicine cabinet & the man in front of her . there's suspicion in her look — then there's sadness . partially at the scene she'd walked in on & on his quickness to avoid an explanation on exactly what he was doing in here .

            ❝ i always get into my office this late . a fact i figured someone as smart as yourself would be aware of . & as someone sneaking into someone else's possessions . you're lucky i won't report this . ❞

she was right . for someone so careful about his actions, he had failed to take account of something as simple as her office hours . she walked pass him, setting the papers aside on her desk . but she wasn't letting him off that easy . she went to the cabinet & opened it up herself, searching the contents .

            ❝ you don't need to sneak around me . i might be your doctor but i am also your friend . what do you need, reyes ? ❞

she spoke with a fondness then, trying to ease his walls back down . but it wasn't a lie . she was willing to help him with whatever it was he needed, even if she was angry this was how she had to find out .

[grimself]

pity. whether it's showing on her face in reality or his mind is orchestrating it into existence for him matters little. he prefers anger over sympathy for a reason. easier to define. easier to use. easier to deal with at late-night hours in a quiet room. "luckier than i deserve—or so i'm told frequently." the truth has already grazed the doctor's tongue. he's not oblivious to her working hours—or to the precariousness of his circumstances; above all the part where he got caught in the act. "i was ... distracted," he admits in spite of himself; already offering up more than he'd intended. part of him felt like he owed her an ounce of honesty ... the other part cursed her and the olive branch she'd offered up so effortlessly in silence. too compassionate for her own good.

"didn't even get to the looting bit in fact." he stifles the onset of a cough by clearing his throat and slinks closer to the wall. definitely worth a consideration to stealth away while she is rummaging through the cabinet. ( and utterly futile all the same if he didn't want her hounding him down for answers the very next day ). "painkillers that'll take out a bull would be lovely. i heard there's new prototypes in the making." actual medication. not whatever the hell moira was producing on the daily. he'd avoided passing through her lab for a reason.

[grimself]

redvisioned​ ✧ jack.​​  

   “more like that just happens to be when everyone is available to meet, unfortunately. i’d say, the earlier the meetings, the sooner they’re over with, though.” he makes a mental note however; pushing back one meeting sometime won’t hurt, if it can wait. “oh? once in a lifetime chance? is that so..” jack hums in thought, and considers this seriously; checking the time to see just how much hours they have before then. if he leaves right now to finish the rest of his own tasks, he’s certain he’ll also be free by the evening. “alright then. i’ll take you up on that. if you have the rest of those papers finished by then.” of course, he couldn’t possibly forget about that. “..deal?”

          “’if ...’” he trails off and regards his stack of papers with the same contempt one would spare a cockroach sighted on a kitchen counter. “you’ve such a gift for ruining the mood, jack. if worse comes to worst i’ll just have to eat a diavolo by myself.” shame. at least one of those paper scraps will require a trip to the archives because its numbers date back to march. admittedly: entirely his own fault. he could’ve finished it weeks ago. ... or simply made up the missing data. he’s not quite that negligent, though. “... ... ... but i’ll see what i can do. now do me a favor and look at least a little concerned over whether you’ll be able to finish your share of work.”

[derangedrhythms]

fire has its cold half. 

Pablo Neruda, 100 Love Sonnets; from ‘XLIV: You must know that I do not love and that I love you’, tr. Stephen Tapscott

[vietnyamese]

[kisses you] is this cringe bro? [kisses you harder] is this fail? is this going in your cringe comp?

[grimself]

@multibg continued from here!

although forewarned by distinct steps in a distance, he finds himself unable—or unwilling—to move from his spot at the doctor's medicine cabinet. the bare minimum he manages just in time before the lock opens with a click is to turn his back to the shelf and put on an expression that is both unperturbed and guilty at once. "... was it?" he raises one hand to shield himself from the blinding light; waits a moment for his eyes to get used to the shift in ... ambiance. "sorry 'bout that. occupational habit and everything."

legs set into motion; SLOWLY as not to startle her any further than he already had. regardless of his evident trespassing, he does intend to retreat without much further ado. rather, he'd be a fool to continue his search under her watchful eyes. ( and perhaps he's as much of a fool to believe his escape would be granted without any more questions asked ). "aren't you out and about a bit late yourself?" diverge. distract. let the odd tone in his voice be attributed to the eccentricity he was already known for. to his difficult personality. or whatever else was written in his military psych evals. "also an occupational habit, i'd wager."