deafening

Don't worry, you'll hear me coming.

[sambxnson-blog]

underworldkiing‌:

He’d always believed Sam to be one of the most interesting Saints out there. Non-conformist, rebellious, standing their ground – they possessed everything needed to become unique and dominated by no one. He’d been similar in so many ways, yet his loyalties lie elsewhere. With a chuckle Vittorio nodded at their words. “Apparently not. Why are you here, anyway? I’m sure they locked away everything of value days before the wedding.” He looked around to confirm his own statement, yet he saw golden forks and knives on each table, crystal vases, old portraits of former kings, the crown jewels both adorning Jean-Pierre and Sofia – they didn’t hide their wealth whatsoever. “Nevermind,” he had to accept defeat.

“Well, that’s a shame, I’m sure I could convince you otherwise.” Flirting with them didn’t feel as wrong as it should – if anything it was also so much fun. Their back and worth reminded him that one saying – the enemy of my enemy is a friend – and he believed some of it showed itself right this moment. “If you mean my business, then I can assure you this has nothing to do with Alice nor will it ever affect her. She’s safe with me.” 

Sam resents the implication that they’re here for some nefarious gain. Sure they’ve gotten in plenty of trouble with authority over the years, but it’s been a very long time since it’s been for something as pointless as stealing. Vittorio was clutching at straws, because he didn’t really know Sam at all. He knew the overblown reputation, the idea that all they were was some hot-headed riot starter with a chip on their shoulder.

True, they could be that. But that wasn’t all. “I’m here to witness whatever chaos might unfold first hand. And to keep an eye on Alice.” They polish off their drink and refill the glass from the bottle on the table, smirking a little at Vitt’s smooth but predictable line. “As amusing as it might be to watch you try, you’re simply not my type.” Sam quips back, sipping their drink. “I’m not so easily placated at that. I’ve met every bloke in Athos who has ever fancied himself as the new king pin, and they all swear that their business wont hurt their pleasure. The simple fact is that the choice isn’t up to you. Alice isn’t safe with you simply because of who you are. Because of what you might do, and who might want to hurt you for it.”

[sambxnson-blog]

bellacroix‌:

She could not control the immediate twitch of her upper lip. Their appearance stood in harsh contrast to the opulence of the throne room, though Belle had always held dear Sam in her mind as something feral, something set apart from the world she maintained with such precarious balance. She was unafraid of the Saint – merely worried that the cut on their lip might open up and bleed upon the carpet. She cared very little that they did not bow – merely that their footprints would take the servants some time to scrub away. Insubordination was one thing; to dirty her moment was another. 

A brow cocked, Belle leaned back upon the throne, feigning ease. “Are the Horsemen not Saints?” she mused, playing at innocence with her tone, though she knew that Sam knew better, “Look at yourself, my dear –” she lingered on the word, languid and long as it hung in the air; a personable ruler, a delicious poison, “– you look as if you’ve been to Hell itself and back again. Was this not because of a Saint?” A collection of Saints, a far too alluring darkness the likes of which she wished to get her hands upon. 

Oh, how she would love to sit across a table from those calling themselves the Horsemen. They were her sort – though they could use refinement. 

For a moment, she considered calling for a chair; Sam looked unsteady upon their feet, though it was clear that they would not waver. A glimmer of empathy prickled at something long-forgotten within the icy hollow of her chest, but she stamped upon it. They were battered, they were angry, but they were strong. They deserved no empathy now – not when they had tracked mud and ruin into her hall. Belle had expected more auspicious visitors. 

“Is it not my duty to be honest for the sake of the people?”

Sam wondered if they’d have a case here, legally speaking. Something to talk to Richard about. Could you make a statement like the kind Belle had, blaming an entire community of people for a crime? Especially after a small group had already claimed responsibility for it. Suing the royal family was probably damn near impossible even for the best lawyer in Athos, but the buzz around something like that would get a discussion going and that would be enough.

They watched her, the image of indifference and too much power on a throne, and wondered if anyone had ever said no to Belle. In any context. They’d give her a chance to argue her case but the bottom line was that Sam knew she was wrong. Whether she admitted it or not, they wanted to be fair, give her a chance to change her mind. And if she wouldn’t do that then this was just a warning, because this statement was just another misstep to put on the list, another reason people would stop believing that Belle and her family deserved the power they had.

At her reminder of the state they were in Sam rolled their aching shoulders and allowed themselves to feel the ache radiating through their bones for just a moment. Then they snapped back into focus. “Honesty with omission is just a fancy way to lie. The horsemen may be saints, but not all saints are horsemen. In much the same way that some saints are royal, but not all royals are saints. Correct your statement.”

[sevimliucube-deactivated2021051]

[sambxnson-blog]

thorpeelliot‌:

Taking in the appearance of the other person, Elliot wasn’t really surprised to see that they, like many of the people in Athos, were banged up. Squatting down, he started picking up the bigger things that wouldn’t be swept to the side so easily. Choosing to stay and help rather than backing away from the Saint. Had he realized who he had approached, he probably would have steered clear of them, but he couldn’t really back away now.

“You can say that again,” he muttered, standing with his arms loaded up. “If this neighborhood is anything to go by, I’d say Athos is going to be recovering from this mess for weeks, if not months.”

And he would be dealing with the fallout, as a cop. The trust between the normal people of Athos and those called saints had been fractured with the attack yesterday. Perhaps even beyond repair, but only time would tell if it could be used in his favor. But, seeing how their Queen was one of them, he didn’t like their chances.

“Think the royal fucking family even cares? So long as they are safe within their Castle,” he snorted, anger pooling inside him as he walked the few paces to the side of the road and dumped his load on a pile. The streets needed to be cleared before they could really do anything about the debris. The people of Athos had to be able to move freely from one street to another.

It was a cop.

Sam knew that, because they knew every cop in Athos. It had been one of their fathers’ best pieces of advice- if you’re going to get in trouble like this make sure you know the people who want to join you from the people who want to stop you.

Of course, in this instance Sam was not trying to get in any kind of trouble, but they already knew his face. Seeing him was enough to set them on edge a little, honestly. He wasn’t in uniform so he was here as a citizen but as much as Sam knew his face they were willing to bet he knew theirs. With everything that had gone down last night this could go badly.

Sam hoped not, they’d do their best to keep things running smooth. Last this this town or these people needed right now was another fight.

At least it seemed they had a little common ground. They snorted out a laugh at his comment as they kept sweeping, now pushing watered down blood towards a drain. “Surprised to learn it might not just be Saints they don’t give a fuck about?” It was teasing maybe, but Sam’s tone was light and well meaning. “How they think about my lot is just a magnification of how they think about the rest. Until we tear down every wall of that castle and force them to live like the rest of us they won’t do jack shit.”

[sambxnson-blog]

underworldkiing‌:

Vittorio enjoyed social gatherings much more than any other Saint he knew. The mix of Mundanes and Saints allowed him to form new bonds, see bonds of others crumble or form within seconds. He’d seen Sam before, close to Alice, but they’d never been a fan of him, that much he knew. While being around them, Vittorio couldn’t help himself and grinned all the way, from ear to ear – his little game to see how much he could annoy Sam today without having to lay a finger. His mere presence seemed to annoy them – and in all honesty Vittorio completely focused on Sam at that moment, something he’d never acknowledge. No, his focus happened subconsciously. Granted, he’d never seen anyone as stubborn as Sam. 

“How’s that even possible? Staying away from each other? Alice and I– this is getting serious,” he took a sip from his glass of wine and simply looked into the crowd as he kept on talking to them. “If you weren’t so fixated on only seeing the bad in me, it wouldn’t hurt to just think five seconds about what Alice actually feels about me. It’s not smoke and mirrors, clearly not just a PR stunt – I gotta burst your bubble on this one, Sam. If you’re jealous, by all means, join us.”

Sam was not an anti-social creature. They were just... Always on the same shit. Always harping on about Saints and riots and what have you. They didn’t switch off- it wasn’t that they didn’t know how, just that they didn’t want too. It made some people think they didn’t like parties. Not true. They loved parties, those that weren’t royal weddings that is.

They shrugged, sipping their drink. “If I can avoid police and castle guards I can avoid you.” At the implication his time in their life might not be drawing to a close anytime soon they gritted their teeth- not so much just at the fact that he’d be around, rather worry at the influence he might be on Alice. Sam snorted out a laugh. “I’ll pass, thanks. I’m sure you’re plenty charming when you want to be, and pretty to boot, I completely understand why Alice would like you. But whatever small amount of good you might have is not enough to make me forget all the bad.”

[liviachar]

Drink You Away - Open Starter

[sambxnson-blog]

amaradelgado‌:

Amara definitely felt as if she got caught when Sam closed the notebook. She had been caught lurking at the notes that the other one had been making. She could scratch the asking questions for later bit as well because it did not seem as if she was going to get an answer on them.

The brunette had to laugh at the words of Sam for a moment. “I’ll keep it in mind.” She wasn’t planning on going to Inferno anytime soon but it was at least nice to know that it was an option. As far as Sam had meant it of course, that was another question. Maybe it had just been an offer out of politeness.

“I rather meant some time alone, away from the castle. After everything that has happened, even the people that you usually live closely with can get on your nerves. So unless you do something to irritate me, I think you will be safe to stay and I won’t tell you to piss off.”

To be fair, Sam’s stance was no secret. They’d never been quiet about disliking royals, and their allegiance to Liam’s rag tag group of rioters was well known too. But there was no need to make it easy for people like Amara to know exactly what it was they were thinking of doing next. The unpredictability was half of the power. They were all for breaking down barriers by being friendly with folk on either side of the fight, but talking tactics was not a line they’d cross.

“Inferno is a safe haven.” They reminded the other quietly, sipping their drink. “Even if you’re not allied with the folk who inhabit it for the most part, it’s not the pit. It’s not for fighting. So, if you need it.” Sam shrugged, hoping that should she be in need she’d actually have her head enough about her to remember the offer. You’d hope, since she’d been the kings guard, that she could keep a level head under pressure. 

Sam’s smile turns cheeky, fingers tapping against the cover of their notebook, “I am notorious for pissing off royals, and the only friend I’ve ever had who became an anchor stopped talking to me shortly after, so we’ll see how long I’m safe for.”

[sambxnson-blog]

emiliadelacroix‌:

Emilia’s brows knitted together in confusion at their words. Horsemen? She didn’t know what that was. She knew of horses, creatures that she was fond of ever since childhood, and she knew of men, something that she often went from hating to loving, but she didn’t know of a group that combined the two creatures. She supposed it was just another piece of information that her family hid from her. She knew they often hid things from her, such as the fact that some of them (namely Henry) captured and tortured saints in their basement, but she was growing frustrated with the lies and omitted information. 

She was an adult. She could handle the truth, even if it didn’t fit into her old, rose-colored view of things.

She frowned at the tone the saint held as they spoke about her and Inferno. She knew not everyone would be pleased with her being there. She had braced herself for odd looks and snide comments the whole time she was within the club’s walls. Inferno was a safe place for saints, a place where they can be free of judgement and hardships, and she knew her family wasn’t welcome. She had hoped some of them would be understanding of her since she’s done nothing but support saints since their existence was discovered, but apparently they couldn’t overlook her last name.

“Ruben brought me there. He said Liam could protect me.” A truth. She had spent some time with the fire lord, and she knew he was someone that she could depend on. She grew up being told to be wary of those that wish to get close to her, but she never felt wary around him. He was genuine, and she felt lucky that he placed so much focus on her and her well being. 

“I know.” Her expression was somber when she spoke the words. She knew her family’s views on saints and especially Inferno. She couldn’t remember how many times Jean Pierre told her to stay away from those associated with the club. “What do you think the horsemen want?”

If Sam had been younger, they might have decided it was time to cut their losses. Athos was fucked. A sinking ship run by a crooked family who were never going to respect them. They could bundle a few clothes and some cash into a backpack and just... Leave. Nothing was stopping them except their own desire to see the place they’d always called home grow to be better, the people happier.

They breathed out a heavy plume of smoke and leaned against a crumbling wall, warily watching the clueless princess. It baffled Sam that she’d managed to capture Liam’s attentions for an extended period of time. She was meek and sheltered and amounted to nothing more than a pretty face. Nice enough, quietly supportive- not in a way that really impressed Sam, though. It wasn’t her last name that bothered them most, it was that she didn’t do enough to try and distinguish herself from the rest of them. 

“Liam protects anyone who needs it.” They shrugged, taking another drag from the cigarette. It was how they’d met him, a helping hand after a tough fight, an offer to join a cause that would give them a reason to shout. 

At her question Sam made a sweeping gesture to the mess around them, arching an eyebrow. “I think the horsemen have what they’re after. Carnage. Mess, a city eating itself alive because its scared.”

[itsc]

whats my gender, you ask? *i turn and continue to pick up cool rocks. im never going to answer your question*

[sambxnson-blog]

emiliadelacroix‌:

date: august 20th location: paradise square availability: closed to @sambxnson

She had spent the night within Inferno’s walls, but she knew she couldn’t stay there forever. She knew she should get back to the palace. Jean Pierre might not be there and Belle might not have noticed her absence, but Emilia knew Quinn and her other guards must be worried sick. She looked around the club as if trying to burn it into her memory. She didn’t know if she would ever return to this place, but she hoped this wouldn’t be the last time she would see the sanctuary. It was exciting. It was so different than her normal hangouts. A part of her wanted to stay longer, but she remembered what Jean Pierre said about her actions affecting her family. With that, she stepped outside and onto the street.

She thought her mind was playing tricks on her at first. She was used to the streets being littered with food trucks and carts that sold various goods. She was used to hearing laughter and gossip throughout the square. she was used to this place having a lively energy about it, but this was as far from that as possible. There were no children running around the fountain. The vendors weren’t setting up shop. No, it was deserted. There were pools of blood filling the street and cries echoing in the background. The sight certainly took the paradise out of paradise square. 

Emilia wandered through the wreckage. Her eyes were burning with the sights laid out before her. She had to physically look away at one point because it became too much. She finally saw a figure wandering the same path as she was and she slowed down. They seemed friendly enough, so she made her way in front of them and gestured around her.

“What happened here?”

Sam had been out most of the night, trying to tear people apart, trying to mitigate some of the terrible, un-explainable shit that was happening. What they had to show for it was torn up knuckles and a split lip, caught in the crossfire of the violence on more than one occasion. And they were fucking exhausted- they liked their little apartment close to the city square, but last night it had been difficult to sleep when they’d eventually returned in the small hours of the morning.

Everything seemed to be difficult these days.

Soon enough Sam gave up on getting any more rest, so they showered and re-dressed and wrapped their knuckles in bandages- nothing to be done about the lip- before heading out the door to assess the damage. And yeah, it was fucking damaged alright.

With a groan, they pushed a hand through their still damp hair and traipsed on- they could try and clean up in a bit, right now they needed to walk, to make sure there wasn’t anyone just lying in the street or anything. They’d rather have come across some poor sap in a pool of their own blood than the precious princess, for sure.

“Divine intervention?” They quipped, shrugging and pulling a pack of cigarettes from their back pocket, lighting one up before they spoke again. “Horsemen, apparently. Second seal opened, fighting in the streets.” Sam shook their head, “‘course, you got whisked away to Inferno before you could be traumatized, right?” Sam had been there part of the night, just to get an update from Liam and the rest. They took a drag from the cigarette and pinched the bridge of their nose. “Your fucking family is gonna pin this on us, y’know.”

[illusionscfelise-deactivated202]

Purple Scream || Elise & Sam

[sambxnson-blog]

illusionscfelise‌:

Elise watched the woman, curiosity evident in her eyes, when the person beside her replied, and the Lady of Illusions found herself chuckling at the comment. While she could definitely see that as a possibility, somehow, she thought there was something undeniably more sinister about the dark lady. “Fair point, but shouldn’t she be wearing something more combat savvy for it to be true? Something along the look-how-good-my-butt-looks-in-leggings line?” She countered, still lightly chuckling, before turning towards the person beside her.

“Though, I think it’s something more dark. Do you think she could be the dealer? Or maybe mafia? Satan? She sure has the looks of one. Well, minus the hooves, but the dress could conceal that easily.” Elise chuckled as she entertained the thoughts.

Honestly, Sam was skeptical of every person here. Because they were either like them- here because they were too curious not to be- or they were here because they wanted what this place was offering. More power, the chance to rip someone to shreds, the chance to get high.

“Mmm, touche, maybe she’s more the pretty manager type.” Sam shrugged- it didn’t matter really, every one here was shady as hell. They chuckled along with the stranger, but something they’d said did have merit. “Dealer might be a decent shout really. Who could say no to a face like that.” 

[sambxnson-blog]

lucian-delacroix‌:

date: august 23rd, nighttime location: alleyway availability: open to all 

It seemed that Lucian was constantly running, running from his future as a prince, running from royal duties ever since he was a child, and now running for his life after he had been exposed as a Saint within the Seraphim pit. The people who had been watching the duel may have been roaring with the excitement that came with the inevitable bloodshed, but many others were not as thrilled to find out news of another Saint; and this time, a Delacroix no less. 

Lucian wore a bruise on his face as he was forced to sprint down the street, sadistic laughter chasing his heels. It had only been two days since the incident at the pit, but Lucian had barely enough time to think about the stranger he so quickly killed with the newfound enemies that spawned at the mere sight of him.

Sinners were pumping through Lucian’s bloodstream, a reluctant but necessary attempt at more control of his own abilities so that his head wouldn’t be ripped from his shoulders. Breath whistling between teeth, he risked a short glance behind him before he reached a hand out, swiping the air and watching two cars fly over his head and crashing behind him, exploding in a fire. Demolition charges be damned.

Lucian already killed one person; he hoped this wouldn’t result in more deaths than his brain could handle. Skidding around the corner, Lucian caught his breath in desperate gasps, wincing at the shouts and screams that flooded the air at the sudden car explosion.

“I’m sorry.” Lucian whispered to any potential victims, taking a look at the fire before disappearing into a building. Hands balled into shaky fists, and it was all Lucian could do to maintain his composure and not lose it in a fit of tears right then and there. At the sight of someone who didn’t seem to be part of the mob, Lucian approached them cautiously, desperation written in the shakiness of his words.

“Please, please help me. They’re after me and - and I need help.” Lucian mustered, his voice just above a whisper, already bracing himself for another attack on his Sainthood.

Even before their ability Sam has been able to hold their own in a fight- and these days they win about nine out of ten of them. Hey, if you’re gonna be making bold claims and getting into heated debates as often as Sam does, you better know how to defend yourself. Their father had insisted on some training in boxing and self defense when they’d realized they path Sam intended to take with life. Now more than ever they were grateful for his hindsight. Screaming only got you so far- they’d rather scare someone away with a bit of a fist fight than have to knock them out cold with a power they were already hated for.

For the second time in less than a week, people were being attacked in the streets. Only now when the morning came no one would be able to blame it on a power they couldn’t resist. People were choosing it now. Attacking saints because they could- because they were scared, mind, but scared to the point of stupidity, pointless violence.

Sam was out here tonight because there would be people who needed help- people too wounded to move they called ambulances for, they’d already dragged a couple of poor sods to the hospital after deciding they were close enough, they’d torn up a few fights and sent saints to Inferno, to the pit, to anywhere that wasn’t the streets.

It was the flames that caught their eye and Sam headed that way to see if they could help more, make sure no one was hurt, but they were accosted before they got close enough. Lucian. He hadn’t seemed overly eager during their confrontation at Seraphim- poor bugger had probably still been reeling, trying to come to terms with his actions- but whether he was still on side with his family or not, Sam wasn’t about to start denying help. “They’re after me, too.” They pointed out with a small note of amusement, voice hoarse with all the recent screaming.

“Come on, I’ll take you to Inferno. You can stay the night there.”

[sambxnson-blog]

thorpeelliot‌:

Location: Streets of Athos Date: August 20th 2019 Availability: Open to All

Anger sizzled just beneath the surface as he moved through the city. No one was entirely sure what had happened yesterday. Just that the mundanes- people like him- had gone a little mad. Elliot wasn’t fooled though. It was clear as day that someone, a saint, had influenced the powerless to act in ways they never would have dreamed. He wasn’t sure who, or even how, they had managed to infect everyone to behave with such destruction, but he had every intention of using it to his advantage.

Maybe finally, finally, others would start to see Saints as the monsters in this story. It was only a matter of time before the others started using the granted gifts against those who couldn’t protect themselves. And if Elliot had anything to say about it, this would be the first step in restricting the so called Saints in what they could do. It would just take the right ally.

But he didn’t have the time to worry about that now. He had to put himself in the midst of the people who were lost, who had lost so much in the war that they didn’t want. The normal people of Athos were scared. Scared of what they could be made to do next. As a police officer, a public servant, he would be best served to ease those fears and help with the cleanup. So that’s what he did, stopping to lend a hand to a few people trying to clean up the street.

“You from ‘round here?” Elliot asked. His own apartment was just a few blocks over, this area would be the part of the city he would focus on first, before lending a hand else where. So long as his face was seen helping, it didn’t much matter where he was.

Sam was a little busted up, covered in cuts and bruises owing to the carnage of the previous night, their throat raw with screaming. That was the first time that had happened, by the way, they’d never had to scream so much in one short period of time that it actually started to hurt.

Despite the aches and pains they were out on the streets with everyone else. They hadn’t made it too far from their apartment yet, trekking back and fourth with buckets of water to wash blood down drains, gathering up every bin bag and polishing rag and useful bit of cleaning up kit they could find. The streets of their home town were a fucking mess and the people were just as broken. It made Sam’s heart squeeze painfully in their chest, it made them madder than they’d ever been.

Sure, they’d made some messes in their time, but this was destructive beyond belief. The horsemen were trying to turn a community against itself- and they were succeeding. Sam’s status as a saint was no secret- plenty of people who had rounded the corner to see if they could help with the cleanup on this street had immediately backed away on seeing them- fear or hatred they weren’t sure, but it sucked.

They cleaned with a smile on their face anyway, sweeping debris up into a pile t try and clear the road when someone approached with their question. Sam coughed to clear their throat, but their voice was still scratchy when they responded. “Yeah, I live on this street- total shitstorm man, can’t even reach the end of the road.”

[sambxnson-blog]

bellacroix‌:

time: 21 august; mid-afternoon location: the throne room availability: open to all !!

She had settled upon the throne long before instructing the guards to open the doors. Head held aloft, almost precariously so, the crown which she had insisted upon wearing felt like a glorious burden to bear. Her neck ached from the effort of sitting so very tall, so utterly aloft in a way unfamiliar, but she barely felt the strain. Belle was used to holding herself to a certain lofty standard, but taking up the mantle had pulled her upward by the top of her head, from the golden waves that unfurled beneath the crown that should have been hers. Though she knew that her brother would need return sooner rather than later, it felt akin to slipping out of a disguise and into skin, sitting upon the throne. 

It felt RIGHT, and she knew it; the people would know it, too. She had already sent anchors to those in need, and now here she sat, prepared to receive any and all who might seek audience with royalty. The moon could wear a warm face, a welcoming pretense, when it desired to. And so she waited upon the throne, positively thrumming with eagerness, with blazing zest for her position. So utterly icy, she was, and yet she would bathe them all in her own sort of warmth in what little time she was afforded. A firm hand, but a willing ear. She’d hear them all if she had to remain here all day.

     The moon eclipses. 

“Open the doors,” she called to the guards, crown-head inching a moment higher, “Let them in.”

Sam was busted up as fuck.

A split lip, scabbed up knuckles, a gash cutting across their cheek, countless bruises. They’d been in the thick of all the chaos a couple of nights ago trying to tear people off each other, using their scream to knock people out cold when the efforts proved fruitless. They were sore, and confused, and angry as hell. Later today they were meeting with Alice to see what answers they could get in the Underworld. Right now there was something else they wanted to tend too, alone.

Belle Delacroix was blaming saints for what happened last night. Technically, she was not wrong. Someone with a gift had to have been responsible for the bloodshed. But it was the horsemen, a rebel group. Blaming the Saints as a whole was damaging to the point of reckless and cruel. It would inspire hatred and violence. Belle was smart, she knew all this.

But Sam would be damned if they’d let her get away with it without putting up a fight. She was sitting to see people seeking an audience? Great. Sam was seeking a fucking audience.

They stroll into the room, unimpressed by the finery, and do not bow. Their docs are covered in a mess of dried blood and mud and dust, they trail it across the fancy carpet without a care. They only take a moment to think that Belle looks good on a throne, and they they shut that line of thought down.

“I want you to revoke your blanket statement blaming Saints for what happened last night, and instead put the blame where it belongs- with the Horsemen.” Simple, to the point. No need to fight. Yet.

[theonlyjeanne]

Too Hot I Open

[sambxnson-blog]

theonlyjeanne‌:

Jeanne watched, not believing her eyes as the other person dropped into the waters. She laughed, dodging as the water splashed up at her. For a moment she hesitated, the fear of other’s gaze still lingering but one more look at the other person in the water made her forget.

She stepped into the water, grinning as the relief hit her. “I’m Jeanne,” she offered with a grin. 

Sam was openly a Saint, openly non-binary, and openly an avid fan of anarchy. Splashing about in a fountain was probably the least controversial thing they’d done in public for years.

Jeanne- they knew the name. She was an Anchor- so where was her royal family member? Lurking about somewhere, no doubt. “Sam Benson.” They returned the introduction with a cheery wave. “I’d offer you a handshake, but.” They lifted their wet hands from the water with a grin and a shrug, pushing hair back from their face. “You got a day off, or what?”

[liviachar]

Drink You Away - Open Starter

[sambxnson-blog]

amaradelgado‌:

It did not happen in a lot of cases that anyone decided to order a drink for you, without a reason behind it. Lately, Amara could not help but think that there was some kind of reasoning behind it. But she had a feeling that this drink was offered genuinely.

Amara’s gaze lowered to the documents in front of Sam as they let her know that it was just strategy stuff. This raised questions with her however, what kind of strategy were they planning on. Trying to figure out what different outcomes there could be in different situations? It was going to be a question for later.

The brunette took a sip of the drink that had been placed right in front of her and she smiled at Sam for a moment. “Thank you. Both for the condolences and the part about the Delacroix. I don’t know yet what my future is going to be, but I do know that I have had enough adventures and wild stuff for the upcoming months in my life,” she pointed out to the other with a chuckle. She rather had life calm down now more than even more new things happening in her life.

“I did come here alone, yes. Some time alone after everything seemed like the thing I needed.”

Sam watched her eyes wander, and closed the notebook. It wasn’t state secrets or anything, but some of it was still stuff they’d rather not give the Delacroix’s a heads up on, just in case it should ever come to light. Amara seemed sweet, but that didn’t mean she was above sharing this kind of information if she thought it posed a real threat to the family. Though, she’d have to decipher Sam’s handwriting first.

They shrugged, a coy smile playing at their lips. “Fair enough. Can’t blame me for trying, but you know where we are if you change your mind.” Sam sipped their drink and actually hoped they wouldn’t see her at Inferno- it meant the Delacroix’s were slimy enough to drop someone who’d been loyal to them for so long. If anything, they’d keep her on just for appearances.”Ah, alone in the crowd.” They nodded, “feel free to tell me to piss off if you’d rather, I understand wanting to be alone.”

[kingofkeigan]

Contacts I Open

[sambxnson-blog]

kingofkeigan‌:

Evan glanced over at the other person, curiosity in his gaze. He hadn’t met them before and hadn’t seen them participating in the activities. “Not your scene?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. He stared at them a moment before holding out his hand. “Evan,” he offered. They didn’t seem to recognize him and frankly, it amused him. It wasn’t often that he had the cloak of anonymity. 

Oh, Sam knew who they were talking too. All good anarchists knew the faces of those who held more power than any one person deserved. All good anarchists refused to kneel at a persons feet simply because they’d been born into the right family. Their lips twitched up into a smile, and they shook his hand. “Sam. And no, not as such. The claims that they give saints more power concerns me- as if we didn’t have enough.” They scoff a little and sip their drink.

[loveserum-deactivated20191021]

anyways. When can I start screaming