every weapon formed against @santahierro - Tumblr Blog

The ore does not protest the flame, nor the hammer the anvil; each knows its purpose beneath the Maker’s hand. So shall we be tried, and through trials, tempered. And those who endure shall shine, bright and terrible, in Her peace.” [ IRON 1:23 ]

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a study of: being conferred divine office by the heavens and suffering for it. praise and worship (going unheard). stainless steel and its inherent advantages over nickel-plating. And the twisting, corrupting, all-consuming nature of human sin.

A STUDY OF THE DUCHESS GINEVRA 'NEVA' AGUILAR CAMELIA COLT-GLAEDWINE

THE ✝ IRON ✝ SAINT.

blogroll: pyrrataexe | The Iron Saint | apolytia

#none of my tags even work yet I borked this #ꜰᴀꜱᴛᴇʀ ᴛʜᴀɴ ʀᴇʟᴏᴀᴅɪɴɢ. [ OOC ]

cursechakra

‘ just let me monologue my death ! ’ izzy whined as she laid flat on her back, arms sprawled against the cool earth beneath her. okay, so maybe she was being dramatic but that didn't make her pain any less real !!

lazily, her head turned just slightly towards the healer, watching in wonder as she blinked slowly as though each one would return her back to the land of the living. miraculously, she was !

ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ʜᴇʀ ᴛᴏᴅᴀʏ !!

‘ win ? i suppose, but i am gonna totally miss my livestream update now. the fans might as well think i died ! ’

santahierro

❝ D'you want me to stop?? I'll tell The Lord to put it on pause, have her double this healing up, and pass it on to the next idiot what falls in my lap. ❞

UnBELIEVable! They said westerners were dramatic — And by the grace of the Heavens above, they were — but this?

Due to the nature of the restoration, and the Priestess' technique as a whole, Ginevra's hands had to carefully carve through the scripture, finding passage within the book to restore the feeling, reknit the flesh, revitalize the body. Which meant, unfortunately, that she could not put her head in her hands and mutter a prayer of patience and tolerance for the tomfoolery she was contending with.

❝ Y've got a phone on you, don't you? ❞

Exasperated. And it had nothing to do with the energy she was letting go of.

❝ Fucking update 'em now. 'Y'got jumped on the street.' Imagine how much they'll sing, swoon, and sob for you. ❞

Deep breath, she'd found a snarl of cursed energy needing to be untethered from this ... blessed woman's being. The removal process didn't have to hurt, she'd gotten quite precise over the years.

It would, though. She'd gotten quite petty over the years, too.

#cursechakra #ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴀʟʟᴏᴡ ᴀ ꜱᴏʀᴄᴇʀᴇꜱꜱ ᴛᴏ ʟɪᴠᴇ. [ heian heresy ]#took a whiiiiile that's my bad!

krkwlls-archive

@santahierro sent ❝ they were about to give it to me before you showed up! ❞ (from the undercity's best weaponsmith, rune enchanter, and former* lyrium addict: Ginevra)

Being a known face around Kirkwall's undercity certainly has quirks. Despite her status as a 'lady' and a suitably ladylike appearance, much of Valeria Hawke's time is still spent in the gloom of Darktown, or Lowtown, or around the docks. And the people of the underworld still know her by reputation: a fierce enough mercenary when she wants to be. After all, it's better to run than to die, right?

This isn't even the first time Hawke had managed to talk Kirkwall's criminals out of something with words alone. Mercy was what she'd shown them, but these smugglers seemed all too familiar with the alternatives.

Not that she would've killed them for lyrium trading, exactly. It's a pain in the arse, sure, but nothing compared to some of Kirkwall's true evils. With systems of oppression so deeply embedded, there's far bigger fish to fry. So, when she stops the flow of lyrium, it's usually to help people break a cycle of crime and not to simply find villains where desperation normally sleeps.

Needless to say, she isn't sure she'll be believed if she calls the bust what it is: a coincidence.

But she'd been in Darktown for other reasons — reasons she has no interest in repeating.

"Look, for whatever it's worth, I am sorry. Criminals tend to do that when I'm around," she sighs, a weariness in her face that suggests she's maintaining a sort of gentleness. Her eyes can't quite help but study the weaponsmith.

"How badly did you need it?"

santahierro

❝ ...Have you considered maybe NOT being around?! Of all the selfish, lowdown, NUGHUMPING Hero Complexes in this entire blasted city, my daily bread has to be run up on by the - !! ❞

Inhale. Through the nose. She was loved. She was safe. Exhale. Through the mouth. This was fine. This too will pass.

❝ Ah, you know what? Fuck that. Ranting and raving like some blasted heathen, all while the light of my Maker still shines down on me from above! ❞

It's as if a switch were thrown. As if the night were tucked away with the press of a button, and this raging madwoman were replaced by a Chantry Sister fresh from her first holy invocation.

Mad Ginny? She is resplendent.

Dirt-washed. Bruises and dried blood playing checkerboard around her joints and digits. Faint lightning blue 'scars' lighting up some more visible and ... accessible veins, but BEAMING. Grinning ear to ear with such LIGHT, even the faded (Mother, forgive her) Holy Sunburst emblazoning her sole pauldron & gauntlet had a hard time keeping up.

❝ Needed that shipment quite a bit, serah... ❞

More than a bit, in fact. She'd have an axe over her throat by Sunrise, and a furious set of Templars from Tantervale to contend with. But!

❝ ...but! That's no reason at all for me to call you such awful things. Outside of your blessed name, at that! It'd be no better than catching ire with the wind for blowing the harvest away... Wind can't help but howl. ❞

The Blessed couldn't help but intervene.

❝ I forgive ya. ❞

#krkwalls #ᴍʏ ᴘʀᴏᴘʜᴇᴛ ᴡɪᴇʟᴅs ᴀɴ ᴀxᴇ. [ dragon age ]#a whole calendar year before replying?? that's on me. My bad!#and honestly? very real of her to pull power from within as opposed to without #/someone/ is gonna survive the winter

pyrrataexe

✉ Dios te salve, Ginevra, Llena eres de hierra

✉ Are you in town, shorty? Need my firepower re-sanctified.

santahierro

✉ The Proverbs call to me, sister! When have I ever withheld good from those to whom it is due, when it is in my power to act?

✉ I could be back at the Temple within a day, if you find yourself truly in need of prayer.

✉ Anything special needing doing, or are we simply reviewing the scriptures?

#pyrrataexe #ɪ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ʙʀɪɴɢ ᴘᴇᴀᴄᴇ. [ main ]

May, 2012.

#ʙʟᴇꜱꜱᴇᴅ ɪꜱ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴘᴇᴀᴄᴇᴍᴀᴋᴇʀ. [ about ]#been thinking about this a lot.#not just in the context of my silly roleplay character but in the overall of existence #Ginny. I fear we're going through something love

pyrrataexe

Gotta be at the tax man's office all day, because I forgot America was an awful place for awful people.

hit my inbox if you love me.

#ꜰᴀꜱᴛᴇʀ ᴛʜᴀɴ ʀᴇʟᴏᴀᴅɪɴɢ. [ ooc ]#not that this matters here. ginny's very self-contained and I adore that for her

@hotkilller is such a dramatic.

this kind of wound won’t heal, i’m dead already.

❝ A crushed spirit dries out the bones [ ... ] Shut up. ❞

Not to tell a lie before someone soon to meet the Choir, and all, but this did look pretty grim for Izzy, even with the restorative aspects of her technique; the odds weren't really in her favor... Lord, guide her hands.

The priestess was careful as she passed probing touches over the woman's attire, looking for wounds, sore spots, breaks... Whatever was going on? Enough blood starts pouring, and the whole thing becomes a guessing game with way too short a countdown overhead.

❛ For my grace is sufficient for you, my power made perfect in weakness. ❜

The ninth line of her holy prayer, a signal for the floodgates to open and draw the violence out from Izzy's body and into her own. Slowly. Carefully. Sewing 'this kind of wound' up and painting it, in vicious brushstrokes, o'er Ginny's own soul.

❝ Un-shut up. Catch me up. Did you win, or should I be armed? ❞

#hotkiller #ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴀʟʟᴏᴡ ᴀ ꜱᴏʀᴄᴇʀᴇꜱꜱ ᴛᴏ ʟɪᴠᴇ. [ heian heresy ]#narrowing down her c. technique:#using her own overflowing 'faith energy' strictly to create items for others #and drawing out 'wicked energy' from others. rinsing it. and using it to augment herself / her creations #works better in combat 'cause she can just apply her wounds to whatever she hits.#when it comes to healing others things get a little.....#if this doesn't work for you let me know!! of course i will adjust however I can !

fyeahmovies

Melissa Barrera as Laura Franco YOUR MONSTER (2024) dir. Caroline Lindy

#ᴘɪꜱᴛᴏʟ ᴘᴀᴄᴋɪɴ' ᴍᴀᴍᴀ. [ aesthetics ]#don't let the mary janes and the simple cloth robes fool you beloved #only a beast can keep watch o'er a temple beset by beasts

lizrust

The screen's gonna ask you a few questions, kupo

#ᴘɪꜱᴛᴏʟ ᴘᴀᴄᴋɪɴ' ᴍᴀᴍᴀ. [ aesthetics ]#if you liked the service? leave a tip kupo!

gotta lock in and make a JJK verse for Ginny, hold on.

#ꜰᴀꜱᴛᴇʀ ᴛʜᴀɴ ʀᴇʟᴏᴀᴅɪɴɢ. [ ooc ]#i already know her cursed technique is 'creation' but on steroids #i just gotta fill out the rest of the details

narutwitter

#ʙʟᴇꜱꜱᴇᴅ ɪꜱ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴘᴇᴀᴄᴇᴍᴀᴋᴇʀ. [ about ]#and can the chorus chant Amen?

REV. 5.5

❝ And one of the elders saith unto me, Weep not: behold, the Lion of the tribe of Judah, the Root of David, hath prevailed to open the book, and to loose the seven seals thereof. It is our savior! It is our savior returned to us as a lion, a warrior!

So, I started thinking to myself. When the Son of God is reborn, what gun would he use? When Christ returns to break the seven seals and bring about the Rapture, he returns as a lion, yeah? A lion needs teeth!❞

The AK in her hands is well-polished. Well cared for. Fired 300 rounds already and only just finding its groove. ❝ Deuteronomy 32:47? 'For there are no empty words for you, but your very life.'❞

Carefully, quietly, she sets the holy sword down, pulls back the edge of her coat, and reaches for her sidearm.

❝ Or maybe... Revelations 19:11. 'The discretion of a man deferreth his anger.' ❞

It's a draw like lightning to see her hand filled. Hammer still engaged, safety on ... still contemplating.

❝ The dead know. The dead always know ... For we have seen the rapture and survived it. You need guns to do righteous work. For every gun is a bible, for every bullet ... a sermon. ❞

And he said to them, 'Go forth into all the world and proclaim the gospel to the whole of creation.'

#ɪ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ʙʀɪɴɢ ᴘᴇᴀᴄᴇ. [ main ]#this ... could be an open thread?#really its just a vibe for Ginny. it's her bible thumping & gun running at maximum synergy #I was reminded of her roots very recently so here she is. play the song

@ehstyl

"i have no need of your trinkets." gabriel tilts his head, blazing gaze upon her creations. "but the process. yes. the process intrigues me."

❝ Trinkets? You pull no punches, sir. My pride would suffer were I not a saved woman... ❞

She notes the inferno that clings to him. As trying to look past the chorus toward She who sat on the Throne, it was BLINDING to Ginevra... but only if she looked directly.

She'd other ways of knowing who she spoke to. She could look at his hands, and see the blood that had splashed warm and dried black there.

She could look at his stance and see the tension in the way he carried himself. The urge to move, and move, all to avoid the horrors that lingered behind him.

Our Ginny? She deigned to look only at his mouth. To watch the way he made his words. To see the words, and stories, and songs he'd eaten long before ever finding her here.

What a MONSTER this was in her Holy Temple.

❝ It's worship, beloved. FAITH in a higher power. You see, as She has a hand in the creation of all things, I can create all things through her who strengthens me... ❞

Both hands go out, palms up toward this beast.

❝ Pray with me, sir. I will show you the light. ❞

#ehstyl #ʜᴇʀ ᴄᴜᴘ ᴏᴠᴇʀꜰʟᴏᴡᴇᴛʜ ᴡɪᴛʜ ꜰɪʀᴇᴘᴏᴡᴇʀ. [ comics ]#her cup does overflow with faith this might be a beneficial relationship for a bit #until things get /very/ shaky ofc

okay, i gotta.... go get an air. i've been in soup mode since I woke up.

#ꜰᴀꜱᴛᴇʀ ᴛʜᴀɴ ʀᴇʟᴏᴀᴅɪɴɢ. [ ooc ]#i THINK... that was Ginny though? I'll bounce to sombra when I get back and then its Di until bedtime

warwaited

"As if money were the only way I could underscore my appreciation for your work. As if I had not bequeathed you the means with which to continue this noble craft upon my arrival to this very temple!" This has put her in high spirits and she's making no attempt to conceal it. Her retainer steps back into file and Rachella takes the pair of cans provided, pausing before she slips them over her ears.

A firm, confident smile, and a tone warm with appreciation and surety both. "By the power vested in me, "penniless" shall never describe you again." A playful tilt to the religiosity of the creator's space and her words, but respect intermingling.

On go the defenders. She doesn't blink when Ginny fires the .22, nor the .45. Past there, even her craggy disposition must give leeway to concussive force, but Empress approaches the bench close enough to at least be able to discern cosmetic damage on the armour... should any exist, which it's becoming increasingly clear there won't. Good - she cannot stand products that boast their protection rating but fail to clarify that they are only liable to guard the user from one of the aforementioned shells.

Before the final, full-power rifle round can be fired, though, the warmonger lifts a hand to forestall the artisan's shot. Without a word spoken, she holds out her hands for the weapon herself.

santahierro

Put her in High Spirits? Our Ginny had only just truly been blessed to meet the warrior, and she'd been joyous since the handshake in Ginny's eyes! Or was that projection? Her own joy overflowing from her pores and clouding her vision with a love unparalleled.

Can't just be her, now that she's thinking on it. D'you hear that as clear as she did? By the power vested in She. A meeting in the middle. A firm grip across time and faith, straight to the HEART of it all.

THE TRUTH. Ah, or bits and pieces of it. Snippets and melodies in the now-muffled air. Machinery snapping back into place. A switch being toggled. The impossibly quiet w h i s p e r of lungs being emptied before — Pop! PopPopPopPop!

The first was centre mass, fighting to pierce the front of the ribs, the heart, the vena cava, and the spine all in a line. The next four all went to the same location, they found the same target, and they met the same end. Crushed, their momentum brought to an inglorious halt, and the floor below offered their crushed remains quiet acceptance.

Not even an impact mark upon the beast's hide. She'd apologize for this disrespect later.

Down goes the subsonics, and soon MARIA, SHE OF THE NINE STARS, finds the priestess' palm. Three rounds down range the moment she's woken up, one to the chest, each other to the joints. Right at the shoulders, where it was meant to 'bend and bow'.

Her steel held strong. Her laugh was not louder than the protection could abjure, but even the deaf would be able to hear the laughter rolling from her heart as she grabbed two of her ancestor's finest, one chambered as God intended, and the other carrying 10mm.

Because even scripture must be re-examined from time to time.

On come the rifles. Each one reaching for greater violence. Each one hunting for a weakness created by prior shots. Each one knowing the same defeat as the one before it.

The first, and last, of the flight to know her hand here is the BIG IRON. A touch bigger than her head, heavy as sin, and currently loaded with SIX ways to break an arm, split a man in twain, and deafen an audience. It sits snug in her holster, her fingers playing gently with the walnut on the grip, awaiting the faintest sound of — BOOMBOOMBOOMBOOMBOOMBOOM!!

A spin. A twirl. Leather filled in the same breath, and gunsmoke ... imbibed of, with great appreciation. A little treat for her, as a reward for her latest creation, her gift to the WARRIOR standing behind her, standing tall and unbothered after six .45-70 government rounds tried, and failed, to pierce its hide.

❝ Glory. Glory. GLORY! One last light into the Lion's Den, then! ❞ And Our Ginny, her entire body vibrating from a plethora of conditions, makes way to the cage for THE LAST ENEMY.

Once lovingly referred to as 'The Hand of God', it was a system designed solely for the destruction of all it pointed toward. A righteous thing meant only for vengeance as ordained by the Lord. Now, hauled over to the line of scrimmage — ❝ Oh! Watch your head there, lad! Bit unwieldy, she is! ❞ — to see who was truly meant to prosp - Ahhh, of course!

❝ Of course! Of course... Begging your pardon, ma'am, I ought have offered from the start! Ahh ... Give us a moment, will you? This, suddenly, seems insufficient. ❞

Had to lug THE LAST ENEMY on back to her cage. Careful to avoid thwacking anyone this go, and apologizing profusely for waking her up and not feeding her. Once she was secured back home, the priestess ducked low and started rifling through the cabinets 'neath the cages.

Had to find 'em. Knew she one in here somewhere, picked up from an Uzbek lump she'd run into a few months - There it was! Army green, and lightly dusty, but very clearly labeled 100 rounds 12.7 x 55mm.

The box of ammunition is hoisted up, swiftly brought back to the line of scrimmage, and popped open so her (now) favorite client could pick and choose as she pleased.

❝ On the house, ma'am! Lord knows they don't see much use here, and I'd much rather they find a home they'll thrive in. ❞

Wouldn't be here. Wouldn't be now. They were about to meet the same fate as all who came before, but through no fault of their own! Some mountains just couldn't be toppled.

#warwaited #ɪ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ʙʀɪɴɢ ᴘᴇᴀᴄᴇ. [ main ]

spectracle

“aww,” ‎ ‎ ‎ in ‎ ‎ ‎ reaction ‎ ‎ ‎ to ‎ ‎ ‎ the ‎ ‎ ‎ rapid ‎ ‎ ‎ commotion ‎ ‎ ‎ in ‎ ‎ ‎ the ‎ ‎ ‎ back, ‎ ‎ ‎ dazzler ‎ ‎ ‎ only ‎ ‎ ‎ laughs ‎ ‎ ‎ easily, ‎ ‎ ‎ a ‎ ‎ ‎ rosy ‎ ‎ ‎ glow ‎ ‎ ‎ upon ‎ ‎ ‎ her ‎ ‎ ‎ face ‎ ‎ ‎ from ‎ ‎ ‎ the ‎ ‎ ‎ touch ‎ ‎ ‎ of ‎ ‎ ‎ fondness ‎ ‎ ‎ she ‎ ‎ ‎ feels, ‎ ‎ ‎ rather ‎ ‎ ‎ than ‎ ‎ ‎ fear, ‎ ‎ ‎ at ‎ ‎ ‎ miss ‎ ‎ ‎ colt’s ‎ ‎ ‎ rattled-up ‎ ‎ ‎ posse. ‎ ‎ ‎ “your ‎ ‎ ‎ friends ‎ ‎ ‎ are ‎ ‎ ‎ cute, ‎ ‎ ‎ real ‎ ‎ ‎ protective ‎ ‎ ‎ of ‎ ‎ ‎ you.”

even ‎ ‎ ‎ while ‎ ‎ ‎ she ‎ ‎ ‎ still ‎ ‎ ‎ hovers ‎ ‎ ‎ ever-so-slightly ‎ ‎ ‎ upon ‎ ‎ ‎ the ‎ ‎ ‎ iron ‎ ‎ ‎ saint, ‎ ‎ ‎ alison ‎ ‎ ‎ offers ‎ ‎ ‎ a ‎ ‎ ‎ playfully ‎ ‎ ‎ friendly ‎ ‎ ‎ wave ‎ ‎ ‎ the ‎ ‎ ‎ lads’ ‎ ‎ ‎ way. ‎ ‎ ‎ “hello ‎ ‎ ‎ to ‎ ‎ ‎ you ‎ ‎ ‎ as ‎ ‎ ‎ well, ‎ ‎ ‎ boys. ‎ ‎ ‎ lovely ‎ ‎ ‎ weather, ‎ ‎ ‎ am ‎ ‎ ‎ i ‎ ‎ ‎ right?”

ginny ‎ ‎ ‎ never ‎ ‎ ‎ loses ‎ ‎ ‎ the ‎ ‎ ‎ songbird’s ‎ ‎ ‎ attention, ‎ ‎ ‎ however; ‎ ‎ ‎ alison ‎ ‎ ‎ finds ‎ ‎ ‎ comfortable ‎ ‎ ‎ purchase ‎ ‎ ‎ on ‎ ‎ ‎ the ‎ ‎ ‎ brunette’s ‎ ‎ ‎ hip, ‎ ‎ ‎ making ‎ ‎ ‎ itself ‎ ‎ ‎ home ‎ ‎ ‎ next ‎ ‎ ‎ to ‎ ‎ ‎ where ‎ ‎ ‎ the ‎ ‎ ‎ holster ‎ ‎ ‎ would ‎ ‎ ‎ be, ‎ ‎ ‎ the ‎ ‎ ‎ slow ‎ ‎ ‎ stroke ‎ ‎ ‎ of ‎ ‎ ‎ her ‎ ‎ ‎ thumb ‎ ‎ ‎ against ‎ ‎ ‎ the ‎ ‎ ‎ fabric ‎ ‎ ‎ of ‎ ‎ ‎ the ‎ ‎ ‎ other’s ‎ ‎ ‎ clothing ‎ ‎ ‎ being ‎ ‎ ‎ more ‎ ‎ ‎ persuasive ‎ ‎ ‎ in ‎ ‎ ‎ establishing ‎ ‎ ‎ connection ‎ ‎ ‎ than ‎ ‎ ‎ the ‎ ‎ ‎ fluidity ‎ ‎ ‎ of ‎ ‎ ‎ alison’s ‎ ‎ ‎ words ‎ ‎ ‎ and ‎ ‎ ‎ generosity.

“seems ‎ ‎ ‎ like ‎ ‎ ‎ you ‎ ‎ ‎ are ‎ ‎ ‎ happy ‎ ‎ ‎ to ‎ ‎ ‎ see ‎ ‎ ‎ me,” ‎ ‎ ‎ a ‎ ‎ ‎ little ‎ ‎ ‎ knowing ‎ ‎ ‎ wink; ‎ ‎ ‎ knowing ‎ ‎ ‎ that ‎ ‎ ‎ the ‎ ‎ ‎ joke ‎ ‎ ‎ is ‎ ‎ ‎ terribly ‎ ‎ ‎ bad, ‎ ‎ ‎ outdated, ‎ ‎ ‎ and ‎ ‎ ‎ done-to-death, ‎ ‎ ‎ but ‎ ‎ ‎ dazzler ‎ ‎ ‎ can’t ‎ ‎ ‎ help ‎ ‎ ‎ herself ‎ ‎ ‎ when ‎ ‎ ‎ the ‎ ‎ ‎ punchline ‎ ‎ ‎ is ‎ ‎ ‎ already ‎ ‎ ‎ there.

she ‎ ‎ ‎ persuades ‎ ‎ ‎ but ‎ ‎ ‎ never ‎ ‎ ‎ coerces, ‎ ‎ ‎ and ‎ ‎ ‎ so, ‎ ‎ ‎ at ‎ ‎ ‎ ginny’s ‎ ‎ ‎ sudden ‎ ‎ ‎ change ‎ ‎ ‎ in ‎ ‎ ‎ tone, ‎ ‎ ‎ it’s ‎ ‎ ‎ with ‎ ‎ ‎ the ‎ ‎ ‎ same ‎ ‎ ‎ grace ‎ ‎ ‎ that ‎ ‎ ‎ alison ‎ ‎ ‎ retracts ‎ ‎ ‎ her ‎ ‎ ‎ hand ‎ ‎ ‎ and ‎ ‎ ‎ leans ‎ ‎ ‎ back ‎ ‎ ‎ in ‎ ‎ ‎ her ‎ ‎ ‎ seat ‎ ‎ ‎ oh-so ‎ ‎ ‎ seamlessly.

“oh, ‎ ‎ ‎ are ‎ ‎ ‎ we ‎ ‎ ‎ not ‎ ‎ ‎ already ‎ ‎ ‎ in ‎ ‎ ‎ paradise ‎ ‎ ‎ at ‎ ‎ ‎ the ‎ ‎ ‎ moment, ‎ ‎ ‎ miss ‎ ‎ ‎ c?” ‎ ‎ ‎ dazzler ‎ ‎ ‎ tilts ‎ ‎ ‎ her ‎ ‎ ‎ head, ‎ ‎ ‎ letting ‎ ‎ ‎ feigned ‎ ‎ ‎ coy ‎ ‎ ‎ accompany ‎ ‎ ‎ the ‎ ‎ ‎ sweet ‎ ‎ ‎ undertones ‎ ‎ ‎ of ‎ ‎ ‎ her ‎ ‎ ‎ playful ‎ ‎ ‎ words ‎ ‎ ‎ and ‎ ‎ ‎ her ‎ ‎ ‎ keen ‎ ‎ ‎ gaze. ‎ ‎ ‎ “i ‎ ‎ ‎ must’ve ‎ ‎ ‎ been ‎ ‎ ‎ mistaken, ‎ ‎ ‎ my ‎ ‎ ‎ bad. ‎ ‎ ‎ allow ‎ ‎ ‎ me ‎ ‎ ‎ to ‎ ‎ ‎ make ‎ ‎ ‎ it ‎ ‎ ‎ up ‎ ‎ ‎ to ‎ ‎ ‎ you?”

is ‎ ‎ ‎ that ‎ ‎ ‎ an ‎ ‎ ‎ insistence ‎ ‎ ‎ on ‎ ‎ ‎ paying ‎ ‎ ‎ for ‎ ‎ ‎ the ‎ ‎ ‎ drinks? ‎ ‎ ‎ or ‎ ‎ ‎ is ‎ ‎ ‎ she ‎ ‎ ‎ giving ‎ ‎ ‎ ginny ‎ ‎ ‎ the ‎ ‎ ‎ upper ‎ ‎ ‎ hand ‎ ‎ ‎ in ‎ ‎ ‎ this ‎ ‎ ‎ little ‎ ‎ ‎ negotiation ‎ ‎ ‎ of ‎ ‎ ‎ theirs? ‎ ‎ ‎ up ‎ ‎ ‎ for ‎ ‎ ‎ interpretation ‎ ‎ ‎ — ‎ ‎ ‎ and ‎ ‎ ‎ solely ‎ ‎ ‎ at ‎ ‎ ‎ ginny’s ‎ ‎ ‎ discretion, ‎ ‎ ‎ too; ‎ ‎ ‎ for ‎ ‎ ‎ no ‎ ‎ ‎ matter ‎ ‎ ‎ how ‎ ‎ ‎ the ‎ ‎ ‎ brunette ‎ ‎ ‎ should ‎ ‎ ‎ choose ‎ ‎ ‎ to ‎ ‎ ‎ interpret ‎ ‎ ‎ that, ‎ ‎ ‎ alison ‎ ‎ ‎ will ‎ ‎ ‎ make ‎ ‎ ‎ this ‎ ‎ ‎ conversation ‎ ‎ ‎ neither ‎ ‎ ‎ easy ‎ ‎ ‎ nor ‎ ‎ ‎ unrewarding; ‎ ‎ ‎ generosity ‎ ‎ ‎ really ‎ ‎ ‎ is ‎ ‎ ‎ the ‎ ‎ ‎ baseline. ‎ ‎ ‎ elbow ‎ ‎ ‎ propped ‎ ‎ ‎ against ‎ ‎ ‎ the ‎ ‎ ‎ bar, ‎ ‎ ‎ alison ‎ ‎ ‎ casually ‎ ‎ ‎ twirls ‎ ‎ ‎ a ‎ ‎ ‎ couple ‎ ‎ ‎ strands ‎ ‎ ‎ of ‎ ‎ ‎ blonde ‎ ‎ ‎ locks.

“so, ‎ ‎ ‎ how’s ‎ ‎ ‎ business ‎ ‎ ‎ goin’ ‎ ‎ ‎ on ‎ ‎ ‎ around ‎ ‎ ‎ here ‎ ‎ ‎ these ‎ ‎ ‎ days? ‎ ‎ ‎ swell, ‎ ‎ ‎ i ‎ ‎ ‎ assume?”

santahierro

Proper hard men, they were. Each and every one had shed blood for her, and been baptised in blood for her. You ask each man the question, and not a one would deny the urge to jump in front of a bullet for Our Ginny.

Hell, you asked the right one, and he'd happily show you the bullet scar on his chest from just such an urge followed.

Proper hard men, they were. Each and every one failed to keep their composure as Alison waved at them, light and gay as the breeze. Smiles. Shoulders dropped. A wave or ten in response, all for The Diva.

Hell, it wouldn't even take a trained ear to make out the happy response of 'Lovelier with you around, Miss Blaire!' coming from one very bold, bullet-scarred fool.

❝ One of them called me 'mum' the other day. C'n you believe it? Didn't know if I wanted to hug him or send him home. ❞

Plenty of room on her lap for Serendipity herself. The carnal urge to lay her hand on Dazzler's thigh is held at bay, woman winning out over beast. But, the powerful urge to laugh — Her melodic, snort-emphasized, 'weird' laugh — and lean into the woman that brought such juvenile joy out of her?

A battle a bit too strong for this soldier of God.

❝ You're dangerous, y'know that? I'm sure stronger hearts than mine've fallen d e e p under your spell... ❞ Not a flex, not even a snarl. See, Our Ginny? She knows she's already been ensorcelled, breach, clear & trigger. It's only that very clear understanding of the beautiful sword over her head that's keeping her 'above the waters'...

Blessed be, even this foothold she'd been given felt like it was sinking.

❝ A favor's a heavy thing to offer, a sinner like me, Diva. And all for the 'crime' of being too friendly? ❞ Paradise. This? With forty, sweaty, burly men just 20 yards away talking about footy?

Why did all the easiest lies sound so alluring in her voice?

❝ Business... ❞ Legs uncross. One hits the floor, the other the bar's railing, and for a brief moment, she considers getting up. There's no need to imbibe, she has everything she needs. Everything she wants...

What good is a single apple among a never-ending bounty, Eve?

❝ ...is booming, Diva. We just finished putting up a youth center in town, with a gym, bunks, and a launderette. ❞ Oh, now it's her smile blooming. Something equal parts wicked as it was wishful. ❝ Y'busy this weekend? Spend a few days 'round here, come perform at the opening? ❞

#spectracle #ʜᴇʀ ᴄᴜᴘ ᴏᴠᴇʀꜰʟᴏᴡᴇᴛʜ ᴡɪᴛʜ ꜰɪʀᴇᴘᴏᴡᴇʀ. [ comics ]

this new pillow is so good, i smooth forgot I was supposed to be locked in.

#ꜰᴀꜱᴛᴇʀ ᴛʜᴀɴ ʀᴇʟᴏᴀᴅɪɴɢ. [ ooc ]#just reclined in my seat. put my hands behind my head and was watching tv for a little bit like 'wow'#'it sure feels good to not feel bad' - val 2026 #i recommend everyone get a pillow for their desk chairs. it's kind of revolutionary

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