#all starters

[haus-of-muses]

Open || m/f

Connection || old friend, stranger

Approaching the other with confidence, he amped his charm while smirking at them and stereo-typically resting his arm against the table and leaning in to whisper in their ear. “I can’t help but notice you staring at me across the room all night, how about we make an escape and I kiss a different part of your body when the clock strikes 12?" Suggesting and smirking, Ethan shamelessly undressed the other with his eyes before nodding towards where he was heading.

[lumencoeleste]

Magic was like plucking the strings of a lute blindfolded: you knew they were there, and that touching them would produce sound – but the music surprised you each time. But she was the instrument, and she could feel the hum of it reverberate through her, iridescent sparks still shooting from her fingertips like falling stars.

It mixed with the blood running down her right arm. She was beginning to feel the sting of it again, now that she had a moment to breathe. The sound of steel against ancient armor echoed through the cavernous chamber, and she turned in time to see the weapon strike through, cutting into the rotting sinew and flesh. It was the last of their foes slain, the undead horde at their feet telling a story all on its own.

“.. I think that leaves us at a tie.” 

[indiephilshea]

→ ( CLOSED ) @mxitre 💙’d for a starter ~based on this

           “It’s a long story,” Philip replied with a shrug of his shoulder before taking a bite of his sandwich. Or, the other person’s, he wasn’t sure. At least it used to be theirs before they had decided to share half of it with him. 

He locked eyes with the other as he chewed, wiping the back of his mouth and swallowing before he spoke again. “Why did you run away?” He reversed the question, a slight tilt of his head; a pause; but, just a moment after, he shook his head. “Never mind. We don’t really need to do that,” he retracted himself as he wiped his hand on his jeans ( not that that would clean them a lot ). 

“I’m Philip,” he introduced himself, then, not knowing what to say, he stayed silent as he offered a hand for them to shake. 

[haus-of-muses]

based on x

Earth. The wolf inhaled soft dirt, pawing it before abruptly looking up to new, foreign noises. That’s when he saw her… Fur bristled, and teeth snapped at the sight of intruder but he kept his distance; Watching her over time, Julian gained and learned to trust the human girl. The large wolf could be spotted sitting on her porch with his chest puffed out pridefully and protectively. But, over time, he was going to eventually return to his human form.

His brows furrowed the sound of shrill screams coming from above him before rolling onto his back. A grunt rumbled deep in his throat when he was nudged by a foot. “I’m asleep, not dead…” He growled before opening his eyes to see the girl standing a distance away from him.

[lumencoeleste]

There was a certain sense of masochism to cherry milkshake & blood – like biting into the bitter rind of a citrus fruit without meaning to, only to then continue gnawing on it. Strange, but not so off-putting that Asmodeus didn’t enjoy it.

With the straw in her mouth, she didn’t need the assorted lollipops in the pocket of her leather jacket – not yet, anyways.

Outside, rain slicked the streets, making the world look like an oil spill – roads like obsidian glass, a two-way mirror into somewhere else. Neon signs flickered in alleyways that had seen better days, and she could feel the lightning come on before the thunder cracked overhead, the shimmering megalopolis of Eden Prime shivering beneath the onslaught of bad weather.

"Crooo–w–leeey…” 

Her voice was all sing-song, a certain rasp to it that spoke to the brimstone & hellfire she’d clawed her way out of, all those eons ago. “Crowls, honey, light of my life, fire of my loins–– I wanna club someone to death.” Red lips sliced open for a white-teeth smile. “– Don’t you?”

[lumencoeleste]

His shorn hair was growing out, slowly but surely; the short, black strands soft as down as he ran his hand through it. There would soon be nothing but the mangled tattoo on his back to tell anyone where he’d come from. What he’d been.

Well, that and the dent he’d left in the wall when he woke up, too woozy and feverish to know his own strength.

There was that.

It had bumped his “IOU” up to two items: – that dent – his life.

The last one weighed heavy on him, but.. the dent would be easier to solve. Hopefully.

The hum in the back of his skull had mostly worn off, but he swore he could feel it kick back in as he sat there by their table, the buzz of people and music like a sensory fucking overload. The wound in his side was throbbing, faintly, as were the bruises littering his body, but the pain helped ground him.

Sitting there in the half-dark, he didn’t stick out too much, injuries or not – here, he was just another stranger at a dive bar on the shadier side of Concord 3, watching as his would-be creditor returned.

“Hey,” he said. “... Thanks." Again. "If.. there's something I can do to pay you back, let me know."

[lumencoeleste]

The upside (the single, solitary one) to the dingy apartment complex Heath had decided to call home was that it was much easier to break into than his actual place. 

She’d gone the lawful route, as always, and had picked the lock.. as opposed to breaking the window – by brick or by gunshot – and then entering, which was distinctly more of a Crowley move.

(Leviathan felt the occasion called for a lighter touch than that, no matter how fun Crowley was.)

She walked with silent steps through the apartment – just another shadow making its way through the rooms, slipping into darkness like she would a dress.

The weight of her on the edge of the bed was the only sign of a presence in the room, before she gently put the knuckles of her right hand on his cheek. “Hey. Time to wake up.”

“C’mon, now,” she said, rattling her stolen spoils up so that the liquor gave a satisfying clunk as it hit the bottom of the glass bottle on its way back down. “Hair of the dog, ‘n then we’re getting you breakfast.” More like dinner, really, but hey – his first meal of the evening. “My treat.” Not that he strictly needed it – rich kid asshole, like the locals so primly put it – but it was the principle of the thing. If she could help him out of a spiral, she would always try to, and right now.. Heath could do with someone treating him to something, even if neither fit the bill for what she suspected he wanted.