Vengeance
noun
punishment inflicted or retribution exacted for an injury or wrong.
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@morgansmornings
Vengeance
noun
punishment inflicted or retribution exacted for an injury or wrong.
History | Orders | House Rule | Open Starters
Promo Template by @glitchkingdesign
Put together by @coinoperatedbird
Send “ ✏“ plus a scenario you’ve always wanted to rp with our muses and I’ll tell you whether or not I’m interested!
This Meme: Accepting @musesforthedamned
Inspired by this post. Yes I did copy it, yes I did add details to help flesh the idea out.
That being stated; An interesting plot that I can think of is something along the lines of the following...
A Witch version of Jay has been having strange dreams—too real, too vivid, too terrifying. In these dreams, they see Muse B, who is either Supernatural Entity or Deity, a stranger who feels eerily familiar.
Then, one day, she meets Muse B in real life. Muse B swears they’ve never met, but something in their eyes says otherwise. This causes Jay to start to question her own mind: are the dreams just dreams? Or is Muse B hiding something much darker—something that Jay was never meant to remember?
@brooklynislandgirl
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05. silently leaves a folded note on the table in front of the other.(AJ)
This Meme: Accepting @musesforthedamned
It was late when she pulled her bike up to the bar. Helmet tucked into the saddlebag, keys tucked into the too large well loved and aged dark brown leather jacket. Once a year she made the trip down from New York. Once a year she came to the spot where she met him and his soon to be ex-wife. Glossy tired eyes made their way beyond the security guard, Travis, with a small nod before she slid inside the local bar that was patronised predominately by Military Personnel, most of which were off duty.
She ordered two shots of the most expensive scotch she could clearly read, then took them to the nearest table on the wall. A two seater out of the way. Her right shoulder slumped into the wall. The second glass from the first order was left untouched, waiting for a person that would never drink it. Every year since he came home. Every year she would hold the letter at the empty grave. Every year she would break from her usual routine of calm composure as a psychologist. It was healthy to take a break after all.
Tradition at this point.
Weary and bone tired as she was, it was almost comforting to think that he was going to be on his way. That he was bullshitting with his team. Only she knew better and that was what made the heartache all the worse. The weight of the letter in the inside pocket weighed down on her shoulders. She sniffled and fought back from breaking down so soon after arriving. Hurt was easy to turn to anger three shots and a beer into her stay.
“Asshole.” She muttered into her first coffee of the night an hour after arriving. She would have to wait at least three hours before she even thought about getting back on her Harley. She was in her fourth year of this circuit, but she wasn’t stupid however to risk being a danger to herself or others on the road.
She was halfway through the second when a passing figure paused at her table long enough for a folded slip of a miniature flip spiral notebook paper to be left in her line of sight. The bright white a stark contrast against the dingy and stained dark wood of the table. The slip of lined paper reminded her of those old detective movies or Blue’s Clues. Her right hand reached for the paper to move it both closer to herself and out of the way of her coffee cup.
Her scared brow rose in bitter curiosity as she turned her head partially to see the backside portion of a man. Tall enough to blend in, lean in muscle with a grace that was controlled and steady. Dirty blonde hair shined under the light and that was it. She didn’t want to draw attention from the person. So instead her eyes came back to the note now in her hand.
Hey, princess, can you remember your first concert? How'd that go?
This Meme: Accepting @ Anonymous
“I am not certain who you are calling a princess. I built my life up from the scorched ground I left in the past.” It wasn’t meant to be mean, but she was defensive at the seeming familiarity of the stranger across the counter from her. "But, yes I do."
August 13, 2005
Buffalo, New York
HSBC Arena
American Idiot World Tour
She was fresh faced in her junior year of high school, full in her rebel era. She had pre-planened the entire three day event upstate with her social group from high school. A group consisting of three girls, including herself, and one boy. All under the watchful eyes of David, the boy’s, parents. There were snacks, a pool of money between them for merch. Sunscreen just in case along with jackets in the back of the Chevy Suburban. Tickets had been ordered at the beginning of April that year. A case of water and some gatorades were also in the back for the ride back.
There was going to be a sleep over at David’s house, the girls had met or been dropped off at his house. Hair was done with temporary spray hair dye, make-up applied and smudged to a tasteful degree, copious amounts of deodorant applied, strategic shredding of band shirts, chequered studded belts with matching snap closure bracelets, and Doc Martin’s laced up.
It was a full day trip starting at a bright chipper hour of 7 am. On the road by 8 am. Which was a miracle to wrangle rowdy teenagers. But David’s parents were professional concert attendees, and thus managed it all with ease. The plan was for the teens to sleep on the way there, to save up the energy for the concert. David’s mom drove everyone there, his dad on the way back. The entire experience was a once in a lifetime thing for her.
The even itself was an amazing and cherished memory.
“It was in part a personal victory against my… Father.” And one she would defend for the rest of her life.
@morgansmornings
Reblog this post if you're okay with being notification spammed and want people to interact with you
I know I sure do! @ me in things, bug me to reply to stuff, flood my askbox. The whole nine yards.
well 🧍♀️ as a reminder this blog is NOT a safe space for trump supporters but it IS a safe place for women, queers, trans ppl, people of color, undocumented people, and any marginalized group.
CHARACTER OUTLINE : Jayden Morgan Specter
v; Just Your Average Ordinary Human
FLAWS.
moody | short - tempered | emotionally unstable | whiny | controlling | conceited | possessive | paranoid | liar | impatient | cowardly | bitter | selfish | power-hungry | greedy | lazy | judgemental | forgetful | impulsive | spiteful | stubborn | sadistic | petty | unlucky | absent-minded | abusive | addict | aggressive | childish | callous | clingy | delusional | cocky | competitive | corrupt | cynical | cruel | depressed | deranged | egotistical | envious | Insecure | insensitive | lustful | delinquent | guilt complex | reclusive | reckless | nervous | oversensitive | manipulative | gullible
STRENGTHS.
honest | trustworthy | thoughtful | caring | brave | patient | selfless | ambitious | tolerant | lucky | intelligent | confident | humble | generous | merciful | observant | wise | clever | charming | cheerful | optimistic | decisive | adaptive | calm | protective | proud | diligent | considerate | compassionate | good sportsmanship | friendy | empathetic | passionate | reliable | resourceful | sensible | sincere | witty | funny
SKILLS AND HOBBIES.
art | acting | astronomy | animals | archery | sports | belly dancing | bird watching | blacksmithing | boating | calligraphy | camping | candle making | casino gambling | ceramics | racing | chess | music | cooking | crochet | weaving | exercise | swordplay | fishing | gardening | ghost hunting | ice skating | magic | engineering | building | inventing | leather - working | martial arts | meditation | origami | parkour | people watching | swimming | puppetry | pyrotechnics | quilting | reading | collecting | shopping | socializing | storytelling | writing | traveling | exotic dancing | singing
v; Write My Name into the Stars
FLAWS.
moody | short - tempered | emotionally unstable | whiny | controlling | conceited | possessive | paranoid | liar | impatient | cowardly | bitter | selfish | power-hungry | greedy | lazy | judgemental | forgetful | impulsive | spiteful | stubborn | sadistic | petty | unlucky | absent-minded | abusive | addict | aggressive | childish | callous | clingy | delusional | cocky | competitive | corrupt | cynical | cruel | depressed | deranged | egotistical | envious | Insecure | insensitive | lustful | delinquent | guilt complex | reclusive | reckless | nervous | oversensitive | manipulative | gullible
STRENGTHS.
honest | trustworthy | thoughtful | caring | brave | patient | selfless | ambitious | tolerant | lucky | intelligent | confident | humble | generous | merciful | observant | wise | clever | charming | cheerful | optimistic | decisive | adaptive | calm | protective | proud | diligent | considerate | compassionate | good sportsmanship | friendy | empathetic | passionate | reliable | resourceful | sensible | sincere | witty | funny
SKILLS AND HOBBIES.
art | acting | astronomy | animals | archery | sports | belly dancing | bird watching | blacksmithing | boating | calligraphy | camping | candle making | casino gambling | ceramics | racing | chess | music | cooking | crochet | weaving | exercise | swordplay | fishing | gardening | ghost hunting | ice skating | magic | engineering | building | inventing | leather - working | martial arts | meditation | origami | parkour | people watching | swimming | puppetry | pyrotechnics | quilting | reading | collecting | shopping | socializing | storytelling | writing | traveling | exotic dancing | singing
Tagged By / Stolen From: @missmargomuse616
Tagging: Everyone, and a Duck Egg
♘: Cuddling in a blanket fort (idk why but I'm imagining they are babysitting for Olivia for whatever reason, and they put Noah to bed...)
This Meme: Accepting @adaxrafaelbarba
After three hours of moving three pillows, three shifting nudges of furniture in Liv’s apartment, six blankets, eight stuffed animals, five diaper changes, a bath, and two bottles warmed to near perfection later Rafael and Jayden were finally cuddled up together. Noah was sleeping peacefully in his crib. And she could only imagine how tired Rafael must have been and yet still willing to be there with her.
The broom was pinched between the back of the couch and the wall so it could hold the sheet of the blanket fort. Rafael had his back to the cushionless couch, with a pillow behind his head so that he could still see the t.v.. One arm looped around Jay’s back, legs stretched out but parted to offer room for her to sit. His other arm propped up on the coffee table by his forearm with a glass of scotch in his hand. He’d stripped off the long sleeved sweater he had worn, leaving him in a fitting simple black shirt which he was certain to find traces of shimmery eyeshadow on.
Jay, on her part, was nestled into the open space his legs left, though she was cautious to give him some room and a little padding to keep from hurting him. Her head tucked into his neck as she leaned into him. Her legs tented over one of his. Her hands tucked close, the arm closest to Rafael was folded in under her bust, and the other was curled into a light fist over his heart.
Both of them were in a resting state of relaxation. Jayden had offered to babysit for Liv so that she and Brian could have a night out as a couple. Something Jayden promoted as it was healthy to make time for a romantic partner in any committed relationship. Which is why when Rafael agreed to come with her that night, she fell more in love with the man under the armour that he presented the squad as a Lawyer.
“I swear I didn’t know it was going to be this comically ridiculous.” Jayden muttered quietly into the warm space between them. “But I am thankful that you have stayed with me. I promise I’ll put this all back to rights. I just... I just want to sit here with you for a little while.”
She felt him smile against her forehead. Felt the 5 O’Clock shadow scrape along the skin of her forehead. Felt the soothing circles his thumb started pressing into her waist. Felt the small chuckle that started somewhere behind his sternum.
“It is better than a night arguing with Amaro.” That made her break out into a fit of giggles.
closed starter for @morgansmornings
Sun had moved to mid-morning when two sweat drenched veterans entered the coffee shop, the brunette mid quiet argument with the blond.
“Your head’s not on straight….” Brunette shook his head, stemming the flood of forehead grease with a formerly cool bandanna, “You consider that a run?”
“Was that too slow?” Blond’s Army shirt was in better shape, a leather bag tossed over his shoulder. Straight-faced, one could see the smile poking out the side of his mouth.
“Too --” Scoff hissed, the brunette raised his hands, the metal one concealed by a flesh appearing cover, to the ceiling, “There’s no helping you. Buy me my breakfast.”
Both straighten up when they get to the counter. Blond examined the berry themed treats. They order, take quick trips to the washroom, and emerge for their victory meal.
“It’s my first time here,” Steve told the barista/owner. “One of my friends recommended it."
Mornings were always a challenge. Some were a whirlwind of chaotic crowds. Each asking for the elixir of life known as caffeine in various forms in the narrow window between leaving their homes and making it to their workplace on time. Patrons clamouring for attention with a cloak of stress, dread, and enthusiasm in a cut-throat world of business. Others were calm, manageable even with a slow trickle of people coming in. Voices gentle as they nursed hangovers or were struggling to remove the remnants of sleep from long nights of cramming for the next exam.
It was something that she found interesting. The blend of differing personalities and their priorities. Instinct and a span of several years as a Prosecuting Attorney helped her hone the skill of seeing details that others missed. The faded stain of lipstick on a collar, hair that hadn’t been bothered with beyond going up in a bun, makeup a little too thick to be natural, dark circles and distant glances between flipped pages.
The lull between crowds offered the time to get the next round of baked goods from the back, restock on a few flavour bottles that were running low. The Saccharine scent of tart berries and compote spiraled out into the mid-morning space as she and a couple of her bakers came out, arms loaded with serving trays of pies, scones, empanadas, bagels and muffins. It was the stillness that made her pause, after handing her tray back to her employee.
A glance around the space had her taking note that people were trying to look like they were not to look. The kind of appearance and behaviour an inexperienced paparazzi would display. Then she finally caught up with the reality of the situation when a voice spoke to her. An admittedly recognizable one. Well… make that two voices.
She took over getting the pair’s order to them rather than letting it sit on the outgoing shelf that most rushing customers used. Her usual charm on, placing each of their orders down in front of them on what would be a correct guess.
“Well I’ll have to extend my thanks to your friend for the recommendation then.” She stepped back to give them room to breathe. Though it was a bit alarming that they were so casually settling into her building. Part of her became tense with nerves. A sense of being wary that wasn’t entirely her own. She grabbed her own cup and used it as a cover to take a calming breath. “Though I am curious as to who the person is that has such famous friends as the both of you.”
The Pleiades Deep and Dusty
Credits: David Lane
"More cooperative?" Brian asked as he picked up a taco and took a bite. He shook his head as he chewed. "Play along and be a good girl." He knew that line, he'd been told it before too. Didn't mean he paid any attention to it.
The food was good and he could feel it bringing back some energy. He finished a taco and starting on another quickly, then took a huge sip of hot coffee to wash it down.
"An actual finger." He confirmed with a grin. "I thought you were familiar with crackheads." He was warming up to the conversation now, and excited to tell the insane story. "This guy was walking around an industrial district, no idea why since there's generally no food or shelter there, and somehow found a person's finger." He took another bite of his food, completely unphased by what he was saying. "He thought he could trade it for a hit. I swear to God, that's what he told me." He laughed, still unbelieving of the tale.
"It's the detectives' problem now. And probably yours, at some point."
“The joys of being a Legacy in the legal world. The expect everything, but at a softer manageable level.” She hated that and then some. It was all she could do to step out from her Father’s shadow. She was making progress in that over the last couple of years. More so now that her father changed from Criminal to Corporate.
“I know the rule to never trust one.” Now she was really glad that she chose a salad. She listened as he talked, a silent mental tally at getting him to show the smallest crack in the sarcastic shell he always had on. The sad thing about the moment was, she was in a similar boat. The concepts he was talking about she had long since become used to. The things people could do to one another often were beyond horrific.
“Assuming that there is more to come from the finger maybe. Like, I don't know some kind of Identification maybe? I’ll just have to wait to see if it crosses my desk or not.” She heaved a playful sigh. “As much as I’d love to believe that I am the only Lawyer that can do a damn good job, I do work with others that are passable.”