La Mannaia @liviaxleoni - Tumblr Blog

hollowedbeast:

The words pull a laugh from his lips, even if he doesn’t expect there’s any kindness buried beneath the comments she throws back at him. Maybe they’re supposed to hurt, and there’s an odd awareness of the implications behind them. If she’s spent her time taking out dangerous people, he’s spent the last seven months as someone standing in that category. Even if it wasn’t by choice, and he hates that it bothers him more than the memory of blood on his hands. Every sin he’s committed, every life he’s taken or cry of pain left echoing in his ears, all the while he was left wailing inside the prison of his own head. He doesn’t see the need to point it out.

“Oh, ow. Was that a burn?“ He shifts to settle himself more comfortably against the wall, no real investment in how much longer she wants to take. All he really came down here for was some distraction, an outlet for that ache in his fingers that has him toying with the knife in hand in the first place. It’s too much to ask that he settle easily back into his life, old habits half forgotten when they’ve been replaced by new ones that don’t belong to him.

But she doesn’t take much longer, and whether she’s finished or simply trying to placate him, the answer doesn’t matter much. “Calm your tits, princess. I can wait my turn like a good boy.”

Scoffing slightly, there was an almost scornful raising of her eyebrows this time. “If I was trying to burn you, Gray, you’d know it.” She couldn’t help but twist the word he’d used into something that verged on mocking, taking up her mantle of pushing people away all too easily. In truth, she had no real issue with the man, not when she barely knew him. Maybe she’d never found much to respect or admire in the past but that wasn’t to say there wasn’t something worthy of it.

Though seconds later she was soon doubting that, wondering why she’d even attempted some sort of dry humour just to have him call her ‘princess’. The name riles her and not just because there’s very few things she actually tolerates being called. It had more to do with the way she’d dragged herself up, about as far from a castle as you could get. Her life had been no fairytale and she wouldn’t even try to hide any bitterness that still lingered from it. Not when the one bit of stability she’d had had been ripped away from her so brutally.

Pursing her lips, Livia briefly considers taking the higher ground but she’d never been one to forgo a the chance of a low blow if it appeared so before long words were rolling sharply off her tongue. “You know, if you didn’t want my fist aimed at your face then you’re going the wrong way about it. And we both know you’re nowhere near capable of being a ‘good boy’.”

#;eli;#eli 01

connorxfaust:

“Don’t stop on my account,” Connor spoke up, stretching an arm across his chest for his final stretches. Like Livia, Connor felt at ease in the gym sometimes. When it came to blowing off some steam or just working out for the day, it never failed him. He would try to find other ways to calm himself down or waste some energy, but this seemed to be the most effective, second to going on a hunt. And when it came to working out with someone or even sparring, Livia was one he knew would be a challenge.

His brow quirked at her smirk, switching arms over as he watched her hit the punching bag over and over. Despite his stature compared to hers, Livia was capable of easily holding her own against him. She was definitely a fighter. Connor admired that about her, how she was willing to take on whatever came her way. Saying she was strong just didn’t seem to be enough when it came to describing her. “You sure you wanna go a couple rounds with me?” he teased, “you know I won’t go easy on you.”

“Didn’t plan to.” It wouldn’t have mattered who had spoken up, she never had been able to stop on demand. There was a rhythm she had to adhere to, like a dance she had to complete. Adrenaline was flowing through her veins and everything in her would rebel against stopping too soon. It was perhaps a strange situation but she was nonetheless held captive by it, muscles aching but unwilling to stop either. Connor maybe understood that better than most, though she’d never put the feeling into words to find out for sure or not.

There’s another smirk that tugs on the side of her lips, though as always it’s barely noticeable. “That’s exactly why I want to - it’ll be all the more satisfying when I hand your ass to you. Again.” They’ve sparred enough times for her to know that even if she does win, which is never guaranteed, it’s not going to be an easy win for her. The werewolf was easily a match for her but that only spurred her on even more with the desire to win. “You sure you want to go a couple rounds with me? Will your ego handle it when I win?” Her confidence in her ability is easy to have when it’s one of the few things she knows she good at and one of two things she’s actually worked at.

#;connor;#connor 01

hollowedbeast:

There’s no real reaction to his presence except a glance, a thing he’s oddly grateful for even if he didn’t expect much else. He’ll take indifference, he’ll even take fear, and there’s a part of him concerned just how intensely he watches for that. Pity’s the only emotion he thinks he’d choke on, but he doesn’t know if that’s an expression Livia even knows how to summon. Most days it leaves him torn between his own sense of amusement and indifference towards her, but that cold demeanor was nothing unfamiliar at this point. Most hunters had perfected the icy stare, shoulders braced to try and carry the weight of humanity on their back. Though he might depend too heavily on his brother for that impression.

The man was a soldier, through and through. Eli had just opened his eyes to a different war, and he still hasn’t figured out if he was doing him any favors or not. Right now his thoughts are more selfish, questioning just what he’s done to himself, because there’s the point of a knife digging into his index finger as he spins it just to see light reflecting off metal. It was never one of his habits, more prone to toying with one of the half dozen rings decorating his fingers than anything else.

“I’m dying.” And at least the sarcastic drawl should be familiar, as if nothing’s really changed in him at all. “Literally gagging over here just for my turn to hit a bag.”

Eyes roll despite her best efforts and there’s a spike in the aggressiveness she’s hitting the bag with as she grinds out a word through a tense jaw. “Cute.” The dryness of her tone makes it apparent that she finds it anything but, his comments only serving as a reminder as to why their interactions had only been kept to a minimum in the past. “You know, I almost missed your sarcasm.” Maybe from someone else the sentence would hold a gentle teasing or maybe they just wouldn’t bring the topic of his absence up but Livia wasn’t someone else and she’d never been one for tiptoeing around. Keeping to herself and not prying sure but biting her tongue was something she’d never been able to do.

“Almost but I was too busy taking out dangerous people.” There’d maybe be a pointed note to her words if she cared more, except she didn’t. What Elijah chose to do was his own business and as long as it didn’t interfere with her goals then they’d be fine leading their own lives. A few more punches were given before she turned back to him, eyes latching onto the knife in his hand. It wasn’t exactly unusual to see one of them carrying a weapon but Livia still found herself wracking her brain over whether it was normal for him. There was no answer forthcoming and she quickly discarded the thought as unimportant.

Raising her eyebrows slightly, the brunette headed toward him as she began to unwind the bindings from her hand. “If you’d wanted your turn so bad you should’ve just said, no need to take me out for it.”

#;eli;#eli 01

.hollowedbeast:

It’s odd, but Eli thinks now that the first day back was easier. His priorities had been narrowed to the simplest level of survival. Shower, feed himself, sleep as much as possible. Remember that his hands were his own again and he was fully capable of doing all those things. He was in one piece, but that was about the best that could be said of him when he’d spent the last seven months with a demon in his head and controlling his hands.

It’s the aftermath he’s struggling with. A lingering dark and restless energy that has him toying with a knife when he’s not fully aware he’s doing it. The muted nature of every emotion and the tendency to study every person that’s supposed to be on his team like he’s looking for weaknesses. All so he can decide whether or not he’d win in a fight. It’s what he’s doing to Livia now, back against the wall while he waits for his turn at the punching bag. It’s not why he came down here, his only intention to try and burn off some of that energy, but it still strikes him as a bad idea to take her up on the offer she tosses over at him. “I’m good. Not in the mood to dance, thanks all the same.”

The sound of a familiar voice that she hadn’t heard for a while made her pause, snatching up her water bottle as she did. Taking a drink, the brunette eyed him, making note of anything that seemed difference but never asking any of the questions that came to mind. Instead she just lowered the bottle and shrugged. “Suit yourself.” She’d never been one to pry, despite her curiosity practically begging her to at times. But prying lead to discovering things about people, which lead to understanding and understanding brought attachment hot on its heels. Something she refused to make room for in her life.

Still, it had never stopped her from making her own silent conclusions that’d never be voiced, though he was definitely a more difficult subject to do it for. Eli had always been a bit of a mystery to her, partially her own doing with how much she avoided company but she never could get her head around the difference in the siblings. Sam easily had her respect, something of a rarity but his brother had yet to qualify for it. Pushing those thoughts aside her fists met the bag once more, finding her rhythm again. “I’ll be done in five. Unless you’re dying to have a go in in which case I’ll come back later.”

#;eli;#eli 01

There were two things in life that she found therapeutic: stripping down an engine and punching something. The first only worked if she was in a reasonably relaxed mindset, which was becoming rarer and rarer by the day, but the second had never failed her yet. With her knuckles wrapped to avoid the bruising and splitting that had been ever present in her teenage years, Livia had been landing punch after punch on the bag without any let up for a good while.

Despite the binding around her hands, each blow still gave a little sting, a reminder that she did feel but also that she could be in control when emotions did arise. This was using anger and channelling it productively instead of just snapping at others as she was wont to doing. Out of the corner of her eye she glimpsed someone, speaking without turning to look at them. “I’m almost done.” Her fist made contact with the bag a few more times before she spoke again, a slight smirk on her face as she did. “Unless of course you want to go a couple of rounds.”