SLEEPER

ᵂᴴᴬᵀ ᴵˢ ᴵᵀ ᴸᴵᴷᴱ, ᴮᴱᴵᴺᴳ ᴬᴸᴵᵛᴱ? ⸻ independent dual muse blog : original agent characters Grisha / Griffin and Kay : fandomless & Kingsman verses, EXTREMELY OC friendly : puppeteered by hush

[nobodytoldthehorse]

Apparently “spite” is not an ‘appropriate answer’ to “What motivates you?”

[hollowcdeyes]

SIDE BLOG TO MISFORTUNING ╲ RULES ╲ GRI ╲ KAY ╲ VERSES

[hollowcdeyes]

@llionheartcd​ ╲ KAY 

    ⸻“Someone who’s going to decide what to do with you.”  With the monotone it’s hard to tell if he’s trying to be humorous or not,  but considering the situation,  it’s most likely the latter.

   ⸻The setup of said situation is this:  Kyle is bound securely to a chair,  each ankle to a separate leg,  and his wrists are tied quite thoroughly behind him.  The chair is set in the relative middle of a Spartan room;  bare  (that he can see)  save for a sturdy table under which sits a large basin,  a utility sink set in the bleak walls,  and a stark light source that lends no sense of warmth.  The door is directly across the room from him,  darker than the walls and seeming to draw the eye.

  ⸻The man in black has assumed a resting stance,  feet shoulder-width apart and hands behind his back,  motionless.  Indeed,  it’s difficult to see if he’s even breathing.

[hollowcdeyes]

rules update that includes a list of who I’m “following” !

[relentless-soul]

[requiem-on-water]

[hollowcdeyes]

DEFAULT KINGSMAN VERSE PLOT

     Kay has run away from the organization, taking Gri with him; however, without proper care Gri is beginning to have lapses of confusion and aggression. During one such episode they are come across by Kingsman’s Agent Kay, who is mistaken as an enemy by Gri, engaged in combat, and killed, despite (my) Kay’s attempts to stop both of them. The final moments of the fight are recorded and relayed to Kingsman HQ, who send people to detain them. Gri goes missing before they arrive but (my) Kay is successfully captured and brought back for questioning.

     Intent on finding his brother, Kay does what he does best: He lies, explaining frantically that the man he was with is named Anton, his mentor in a small group of freelance hitmen. Seemingly without rhyme or reason, Anton suddenly betrayed the group, killing the other members and going on the run. Kay had been hunting him down to find out why he did it, but just when he’d caught up to him the Kingsman agent had appeared and Anton had escaped.

     He then asks, begs, to join Kingsman and help them, but of course they refuse. However, Kay persists, going to many extremes to prove his resolve and finally winning over a member who sponsors him for the audition for agent Kay’s position, which he successfully obtains. 

     Then the REAL hunt begins.

[sidestuiff]

Reblog if your muse can crush a watermelon between their thighs

[web1995]

[sadman1]

[hollowcdeyes]

「 FILES ╲ GRI____ 」

     One of many side effects from the “conditioning” he was put through, both Grisha and Griffin experience partial prosopagnosia, or the inability to recognize faces. It is more obvious in Griffin’s life, as his is the more social, and especially bad with women specifically—if he sees a man often enough he may start to recognize parts of his face, but no matter how long he’s known a woman her face always escapes him, and sometimes even her name. 

     Because of this, height, hair, accessories, body shape, voice, gestures, and even the manner of walking and carrying oneself are heavily relied upon when it comes to remembering people. To Grisha it doesn’t matter if everyone remains a stranger to him, but Griffin puts careful time and effort into trying to memorize classmates, regular customers, etc. Still, it’s difficult, and he will often cover by pretending to be bad with names in general if he can’t pick out a specific trait that jogs his memory.

[hollowcdeyes]

℧ UHHHH GIV ME KAY AND LYLE HERE TOO

SOURCE ╲ OPEN

「Lyle taking care of an injured Kay.」

     ⸻“They were tormenting a dog,  man,”  Kay explains vehemently as Lyle tapes a butterfly bandage over his split brow.  “Four douche bags in a douche square playin’ some fucked up shit with a dog.  What level of asshole d’you gotta be to do that?  And what kinda asshole would I hafta be to just stand there and watch ‘em—ow!” 

   ⸻A finger is poking less-than-gently at the brilliant bruise forming on his cheek;  Lyle’s way of testing to see if it’s broken,  or just an effort to get him to shut up?  Either way,  it prompts Kay to scowl as well as he can manage,  which is more painful than it’s worth and completely ineffective as his friend simply ignores it,  instead fetching a bag of frozen vegetables. 

   ⸻“You’d’ve done the same thing if you’d seen ‘em.”  The frown is erased by another wince as the makeshift ice pack is applied to his face.  “Hell,  prob’ly woulda done it better;  you’re like,  half Sasquatch.”

   ⸻(Everything from the righteous anger over animal abuse that prompted his fictionalized scuffle to the valiant,  yet poorly concealed,  attempts to dismiss his injuries is perfectly in character.  It should be;  he’s spent years crafting this persona,  discovering everything he possibly can about Kay Andrews,  civilian.  He’s become all-too accustomed to covering for his activities as Kay Andrews,  operative,  even going so far as to give unnecessary explanations to his parents.  Though,  who knew—maybe civilians Katerina and Jonah Andrews would want to be able to tell their civilian friends what their youngest son was getting up to.)

[lcvelymemes]

♥ KINGSMAN: THE SECRET SERVICE QUOTES ↳ feel free to adjust sentences to make it fit your muse better!

❛ So, hail Satan, and have a lovely afternoon, madam. ❜

❛ There is nothing noble in being superior to your fellow man; true nobility is being superior to your former self. ❜

❛ Manners maketh man. ❜

❛ Martini. Gin, not vodka, obviously. Stirred for 10 seconds while glancing at an unopened bottle of vermouth. Thank you. ❜

❛ You throw away your biggest opportunity over a fucking dog. ❜

❛ You shot a dog just to get a fucking job! ❜

❛ If you’re prepared to adapt and learn, you can transform. ❜

❛ You’re full of surprises. ❜

❛ How deep does this fucking thing go? ❜

❛ Is this the part where you say some… really bad pun? ❜

❛ This ain’t that kind of movie, bruv. ❜

❛ Sorry, love. Gotta save the world. ❜

❛ I’m awfully sorry. I seem to have my dates muddled up. ❜

❛ Oh, no no no. I cancelled the gala because of you. ❜

❛ Are we going to stand around here all day, or are we going to fight? ❜

❛ The suit is the modern gentleman’s armour. ❜

❛ At least the girl’s got balls. ❜

❛ I thought that brandy tasted a bit shit. ❜

❛ You dirty… little fucking prick… ❜

❛ That tends to happen when you shoot someone in the head. ❜

❛ I suppose asking to borrow a cup of sugar is a step too far. ❜

❛ Do you know what that means? Then let me teach you a lesson. ❜

❛ What did you do to me? I had no control. I killed all those people. ❜

❛ To Pee or Not to Pee? ❜

❛ Not everybody had thanked you for that one. ❜

❛ A gentleman’s name should appear in the newspaper only three times: When he’s born, when he marries, and when he dies. ❜

❛ I’m just a pleb. ❜

❛ Being a gentleman is something one learns. ❜

❛ Sorry about that, needed to let off a little steam. ❜

❛ Looks like a lot of people are going to die. ❜

❛ Do I look like I give a fuck? ❜

❛ What a shame we both had to grow up. ❜

❛ Sorry, sir, but why the fuck did you choose me as the gimp? Am I the expendable candidate? ❜

❛ You need to take that chip off your shoulder. ❜

❛ This whiskey is amazing; you will shit. ❜

❛ Who the fuck are you? Where am I? ❜

❛ This knife can save your life. ❜

❛ Mankind is the virus, and I’m the cure. ❜

❛ You’re a bloody disgrace. ❜

❛ I apologise for putting you in this position. You trained him well. ❜

❛ A little gratitude would be nice. ❜

❛ Fuck that guy, whoever he is! ❜

❛ Do I look like I give a fuck? Just get it done. ❜

❛ Perfect timing. Gentleman’s just finished. ❜

[sunshine-cafe]

[musingsandmemes]

Send me ℧ for me to generate a scenario for our muses

Using THIS generator. .

[hollowcdeyes]

xjelani:

       Oh… no. Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no–

       Keep your cool, Lyle. You’ve always been good at that. Any sudden movements or reaction, and he was sure to be under more scrutiny than deemed necessary. 

       At least he was… somewhat prepared? Not really. Not entirely. What started out as a joke now seemed as though there might be actual consequences to his foolishness. And by (what he assumes is) the negative change in the bartender’s demeanor, Lyle seems to be stirring beneath the surface – now almost nervous. And if he wasn’t so conscious of his own body language, he would’ve been fidgeting.

      “…Sure.” He sounds far more hoarse than he intended, swallowing thickly and fishing his fingers into his back pocket to retrieve his wallet. And in his (almost vacant) wallet (because he was still only barely 15. And kids as young as that only had a few coins on them, much less actual cards to slide in there) – he slips out “his ID.”

        It carries a name that was very obviously not his (Name: Isayah Runer. Expiry:  [XX/XX]. Birth:  [02/12/1988].) as well a picture that… was his. But it wasn’t as though this bartender would know any better – lest he inspects it closer and picked at the (carefully stuck on) photo until it came peeling off and exposed the real face that did not belong to him. 

       Lyle hands it to him, staring – deadpanning, almost – and hoping his craftsmanship would go unnoticed.

     ⸻Unbeknownst to either party,  Griffin echoes Lyle’s exact mental litany as the ID is procured with such apparent calmness.  Accepting it with an equally deceptive steady hand  (freeing the straw),  it takes him a few seconds longer than it should to search out the birth date,  all but sweating under the weight of his customer’s expressionless gaze.  His eyes snag momentarily on the odd spelling of name  (Isayah with a y?)  before finding numbers:  1988.  He’s a good few years older than Griffin himself.  The bartender seems to almost shrink a little with the realization,  offering the card back meekly.

    ⸻“Th...thank you,  sir.  Um,  just protocol,  you know...”  Really, you could blow on him and he’d fall over.  “Please enjoy your drink.  And if I can get you anything else,  at any point...”  If he could get the ground to swallow him,  that would be ideal as well.

[hollowcdeyes]

xjelani:

     Either he should start considering a career in theater, or this man neither cares what age he was, or what he was drinking. The latter seemed far more likely, and though Lyle had his suspicions – he figures it’s best not to question it. Because anything was better than explaining himself, and it looks as though he was in the clear, anyway.

     He sits there, awkward. Unsure. Should he straighten up a little? Should he slouch? It doesn’t seem as though the bartender minded him, so he does what feels most comfortable. Sit in silence and… mainly mind his own business until his drink was finished.

     “I’m alright.” He remarks, when his order was presented. It’s a translucent sort of green, with salt rimmed along the glass. He stares at it, feeling odd. “–Is that supposed to be there?” He lifts the cocktail glass to observe the white, little crystals sprinkled around the edge. Where his lips were supposed to touch. He grimaces. 

       Salt on his lips doesn’t seem that appetizing. “Can I get a straw or something?”

     ⸻Now that...was a little odd.  Ordering a margarita,  but not expecting salt?  Something finally clicks in his brain,  although it’s a little way too late considering the drink  (courtesy of Griffin)  already in the hand of the...minor?

     ⸻What should he do?  Confiscate the drink?  Although,  couldn’t it be possible that he was only just of age,  hence the ignorance?  Yeah, right.  For a moment Griffin’s thoughts scramble,  escape him.  “Y...yes.”  Which question that's in answer to is unclear,  until after a solid pause Griffin turns to find a straw,  taking the time to sort out his mind.  He’s never been very good at things like this.

     ⸻Facing the customer again,  he places the straw on the bar,  lets his fingers linger on it,  says as casually as he can manage,  “By the way...I don’t think I’ve seen you around before.  Mind if I check your ID?”  His voice crackles on the last couple words,  forces a swallow.  He’s really never been good at this.