#aintinsaint

[honor-to-us-all]

Lost at Sea

@aintinsaint​ (lost at sea) 

The roar of the waves felt deafening to ears that had scarcely left the sanctity of the family farm. Hands white knuckle the railing, praying to the ancient ancestors for the cessation to the unnerving listing from side to side.

Narrowed eyes befall her traveling companion beside her. “Aren’t you supposed to be lucky?” As if every Irishmen was imbued with good fortune. “Then why is it when I’m with you, misfortune befalls us all?” 

[honor-to-us-all]

“What are you doing up at this hour?” Connor

Her own reflection is distorted, warped by the frosted glass. Amber hues remain wholly transfixed upon something in the distance. The object of her attention would seem trivial, had her mind been wholly devoted to it. Yet it wasn’t. Mulan’s thoughts had ventured far from the comfort and safety of the solid fortifications of their apartment.  

Trembling hands remained locked around a cup half-filled with scalding tea. The faint smoke peeling off of the brown liquid wafts into the air in a long curling string before dispersing whether, by unforeseen magic or knowledge of what imaginings tormented her, is subject to interpretation.

The nights since she had returned from the battle were filled with unbridled apprehension. The riotous sounds of charging armies swell and ebb in and out of focus. Long finished explosions, cause the ground beneath her feet to quaver. This results in the subtle wavering of her stance, though the entire apartment shows not even the briefest signs of disturbance. For in truth, Mulan was the only one to experience it. Sheets of snow come thundering down the mountain with ferocious speed causing the once raucous shouts to fizzle into a solemn discomforting silence. Being trapped in this all-encompassing soundless embrace is almost worse than the ear battering that preceded it. Silver streaks pool at the corners of the Chinese warrior’s eyes and she makes no effort to push them away. No matter which way the papers spun stories of war, lives were lost and destroyed. She’d been so certain that there was honor to be found in the fighting of battles only to discover war was so much more than a quest for tangible merits and bragging rights. It was ugly. Full of ruin and despair. It’s was strange. Some days winning didn’t feel like much of a victory to her.

The suddenness of Connor’s interruption causes Mulan to jilt forcefully into the present reality. Splashes of hot tea had found her skin, stinging upon impact and causing a slight whimper to depart her lips. On the ancestors, she’d swear Connor had nearly given her a heart attack with his unexpected inquiry!

“I…” The ebony-haired woman deliberates long and hard upon the rest of the answer. “I couldn’t sleep.” It is a lame excuse and she knows it. Mulan carries herself to the table to put down the tea before more could be spilled. Her mind was far too preoccupied to offer her friend the kettle though, he was welcome to the remaining tea should he like it. “Its been a long day.” It has been more than a grueling series of twenty-four hours, it had been stretching on for days and weeks. The reason Mulan dared not broach the subject is that she fears burdening Connor with images that she had seared into her cerebral cortices. It was enough that she had to live with them. Why should she subject anyone else?

Amber hues dare to briefly match his gaze. “You?” She questions. Her usually courage tone turned hushed.

@aintinsaint

[jediprincessajliberty]

"Could I int'rest ye in a beer, Banphrionsa?" - Connor @aintinsaint [[ Psst. HAPPY SAINT PATRICK'S DAY!!! ]]

A smile widens across her face at the invitation. “I don’ta drink. But if’a you make it a soda verde I’d be delighted.” She replies in broken English having forgotten for a moment that he too spoke Italian. 

When she realizes that she can be free to speak in her own native language she transitions with a degree of unbelievable ease.

From what she had come to understand, it was a huge Irish Holiday. “Felice San Patrizio a voi.” She cheerfully exclaims. Though she does not entirely know what it is that day is celebrating. Then excitedly she continues to ask, “Come è possibile che voi celebrare un tale giorno? Che è oltre a bere? ” 

[honor-to-us-all]

@aintinsaint

“Do you always have something sarcastic to say?”

[jediprincessajliberty]

So many Questions: Connor X AJ

@aintinsaint continued from X

Aquamarine hues widen considerably. “Che Cosa?” The extreme surprise is evident in the way the word rolls off of AJ’s tongue.

“Okay.” She takes in a nice long deep breath before exhaling. “Connor.. slowa down. Whose arm? And why were you trying to put it in a bed? And where is the person in question?” If she can be of some help, she’d be more than glad to give what assistance she can. For a fraction of a moment her thoughts turn more morbid. “Is the person in question still alive?”

[jediprincessajliberty]

Penny For Your Thoughts: Connor X AJ

@aintinsaint  continued from X

“Vorreste davvero sapere?” Aquamarine hues gleam with an irresistibly playful mirth. She enjoys casting an air of mystery about her as if, it were an ethereal glow.

She playfully wraps her arm around his shoulder and gently drops the bag of coins in his lap. “I fleeced Hurtzler’s personal bodyguards.” Then with a widened grin, AJ continues, “you as see, the way I figure it, why not make them pay the Ferryman from their own pockets. After-all it is only fair. Right?”

“Everything. I want to know everything about you…”  AJ answers. It is the full truth. Connor was incredibly fascinating. Laughingly she points out, “I suspect it will take more coins than I have in the baggie.” Settling herself in a seat next to him she adds, “but for now, I’lla settle for knowing what it is you are thinking about.”

[jediprincessajliberty]

Natalie Portman Knight of Cups

@aintinsaint

[jediprincessajliberty]

Fashion Statements: AintinSaint

@aintinsaint continued X

AJ perches herself on the nearest chair, content just to observe him in his newly acquired clothing. For a princess, she is not immune to gazing at divine masculine physiques; like Connor’s. And she was most certainly finding it difficult to take her eyes off of his right now even whilst adorned with the slightly flowery fabric.

Her gaze drops downwards for a moment. Quietly the Jedi prays that the burgundy burning within the swells of her cheekbones isn’t super noticeable from where he is standing.

“That is certainly an interesting question. I suppose I-a never thought of it…” she remarks. For a Christian, AJ had asked herself very few of the inquiries her saintly friends did. But it was really refreshing to consider their unique perspectives.

Aquamarine hues flicker back upwards through tangles of untamed lashes. Amusement spreads across her lips, widening into a genuine grin. “I do believe he did. I mean, didn’t certain soldiers take his clothing and try to gamble them away? In that case, he would have probably been showing more skin. And he was an advocate for giving when he saw people in need. Which means, I’m sure he gave his tunics away a few times.” Then after a brief pause, she continued, “buta… as a fashion statement, I’m not sure if he’d go for florals… and… navals. I suppose one day, we’ll have to ask him.”

“Until we discover the Almighty’s stance, Ia hope my stamp of approval will work.”