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seen from Ireland
seen from United States
seen from Argentina
seen from Mexico
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seen from Oman
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seen from Bangladesh
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@homeinvxsion
Send a symbol for our muses to be stuck together.
Extra points if they hate each other.
✈️: Seated next to each other on a full flight
👮: As partners on a murder case
👶: Babysitting a child
😺: Looking after a neighbor's pet
🌂: In a nasty blizzard
💂: Guarding a vital outpost at night
🚓: Sharing a jail cell
🌠: Stranded in space
🔬: As lab partners
📚: As partners on a final project
💣: In the aftermath of a terrorist attack
🌲: In the middle of a forest
@housecall
This hit strayed far away from 50 blessings’ usual assignments. Instead of the disorientating venue of a night club or the seclusion of a warehouse, they had sent him to a nondescript house in the slums. The domestic vibe here was an eerie change of pace.
Despite the sense of foreboding that had him yearning to turn around and step right back onto that bus, 50 blessings had already enlightened him on how they treat failure. It just wasn’t an option.
Tom donned his Halloween-store fox mask before shimmying a side window open. He resembled a nightmare, bloodied mask peeking out from under a black hood as he crawled through an open window; his slate-grey machete could be one long, lethal claw. Cautiously, he left the room he entered through and continued to explore.
A hand snapped out in a matter of seconds, grabbing the other man’s shirt and yanking him in; A pursed lipped scowl on Victor’s face. “You should be saying ’Thank you, Mister Zsasz’ and taking notes. Don’t talk back to me; I don’t need you for this mission after all. You’re dead weight right now.” And the grab was released. Victor adjusted his blazer and rolled his neck to relax.
There’s a fine line between pushing the boundaries and pushing a little too much. Obviously, Tom’s crossed it. Most of him wants to shove Zsasz to the ground and shoot a well-aimed bolt right into his frontal lobe. But eventually, Tom’s sliver of a rational side has him mumbling, “Thank you, Mister Zsasz.”
Covered in BLOOD, they called it good clean fun But now her mind is a WEAPON that they can’t outrun
IT LOOMED OVER him, the energy the spirit radiated off filled the room thickly, tightening aspen’s throat and forcing her to draw hollow breathes. this was a MISTAKE, the last time aspen encountered this spirit, she was on edge, but the fury that now filled the room had not been there. she didn’t stand, her body pressed against the floorboards, slowly crawling forward. ❛ Give me your hand! ❜ she outstretched hers, knowing that time was not on their side based on the intensity of this spirit.
Absolutely no thought was involved as his hand shot out like a bullet. But bullets were deadly, he wasn’t. Not right now. Not with the pale woman swooping down on him like a guillotine, like a bullet. No, she was the deadly one.
He gripped Aspen’s wrist. His fingertips pressing into her skin hard enough to feel the ridges of her bones.
((i like to rate how shit a thing is with tom’s eyerolls. Being tired as shit = 2 tom eyerolls. not being able to focus on writing bc of being tired as shit = 2 tom eyerolls))
@killerofkillcrs
✕ ✕
FRANK completely DESPISED the idea of some young punk toting around with him, even if he was learning from him. He found it tedious and usually, his apprentices found it too difficult to either do it or even just keep up. They didn’t tend to get it.
THIS one seemed different. He seemed okay with the killing and didn’t seem to question it. That worked just fine for him. He turned down the designated alley and approached the young guy. ❝Y’have t’pick such a shitty spot?❞ He grumbled, offering his flask to Tom. ❝Well, what’d y’find out?❞ Frank finally asked. Part of teaching him was to also teach him to investigate.
“It’s discreet.” he replied with a shrug before grabbing the bag by the neck and waving off the offer. “Just some vamps. Three of them. They live a couple blocks down from here. And from the news reports, sounds like they’ve been hitting up the high school.”
A half dozen kids spirited away in the dead of night; the first line of the article, and the rest was filler to really punctuate how tragic the whole shitshow was. Tom couldn’t sense a whole lot of tragedy. It wasn’t just his professional ‘contract killer’ act, but sympathy legitimately wasn’t one of his three emotions.
“They leave between 11 and midnight. I bet we could surprise the shit outta them with an ambush.” he suggested. The barest of grins tugging at the corners of his mouth.
Their designated meeting spot was a back alley, splashed with neon and pulsing with the low rumble of music. The sort of place that could cautiously be referred to as a mugger’s heaven.
Tom leaned against a chain-link fence across from the bar’s backdoor, trying to ignore the stench of piss and vomit that hung like a damp curtain around him. His gear was stowed away in a black plastic bag near his feet. His mask dangling from his curled fingers. At the far end of the alley, the unmistakable shadow of his new ‘partner’ arrived. So far, monster hunting wasn’t all that different from contract killing. There was just a difference in prey.
HOWEVER, ASPEN FELT the shift of energy the instant it happened. aspen’s mouth opened to send a warning, her left foot pedaling back. the motion was not fast enough before a hand smacked against her flesh, throwing her off her feet, and to the floor with a force she’d not expected. her knee smacked against the ground before her head mimicked the action. a curse cuts through her lips as her eyes open, watching as the spirit changes it’s focus from her to tom. aspen opened her mouth again, telling him to run but the sound was only a squeak. it was too late anyway – the moment the sound left her lips was the same moment the spirit was throwing the older man across the room.
The impact knocked him out of his fearful trance and skidding onto the concrete floor. Tom snarled in pain and rolled onto his side, limp with shock. A pair of translucent, dusty feet glided into view, and, against the urging of his gut instinct, he craned his neck and followed the pale pillars of her legs up to the looming woman.
His expression contorted in terror. His mouth hanging half-open, ready to let loose a scream that never came. Instead, he lashed out. A cornered animal thrashing its extremities at the entity’s incorporeal form.
gill thorpe
She gives a shrug. University wasn’t for everyone. It was actually rather stressful, even for her from time to time. “That’s good, you know what you like and what you don’t.” He wasn’t unsure of himself. However, she was completely unaware of his history, his past. Although, she never once assumed any piece of it. He would tell her whatever he felt comfortable with sharing.
Looking at the place, she nodded. Stepping forward, she opened the door for herself and held it only briefly to invite him in.
“You can pick whatever you like, Tom,” she told him lightly as she threaded her words carefully, “After all, I asked you to be my company.” She didn’t want to spook the red handed man off just before she could get to know him.
“You could put it that way.” he replied curtly. Tom was never one to open up about himself, half out of politeness, and half out of experience. The story of a self-made contract killer wasn’t casual conversation material anyways.
He picked a seat at the nearest open table and skimmed through the menu, skipping over the sweet, syrupy drinks.
“And why’d you ask me?” His eyes were still on the menu, but the question had been on his mind. College students weren’t known to waste their money on a total stranger, not to mention someone like him.
((just like something super personal under the cut so u don’t have to read it, but it’s p positive so
THE FIGURE CREPT in slowly, stealing the rest of the warm in the air, her steps slow, her face a pale, nearly transparent white. aspen felt her body move backwards as she took a step. then the creature was in front of her within a blink of an eye, only a few feet separating them. ❛ Don’t move….❜ the pale, ugly face of the scarred women in front of her was frightening, but she’d dealt with worse. her energy was more sad than angry. (but that could change quickly.)
Aspen’s warning was lost to the roar of his heart, but it didn’t matter. His legs locked themselves to the floor on their own accord, and not even a trembling whimper could escape from his tight throat. Only his eyes shifted as they tracked the otherworldly woman traipsing then teleporting across the floor towards Aspen.
((^ me checking if adam wingard just rlly followed me))
