#allegored

[washeartsbreaking]

@allegored sent "i could really go for a hot chocolate right now .. whaddya say, kiddo?" / from rick

the snow came down like a white curtain around them both. it had started as rain before turning into the snow that now froze in the strands of her hair sticking out from under her hoodie and in her dad's beard. she pulled her coat tighter around herself as the wind picked up, her mouth watering at the mention of hot chocolate. "absolutely!" judith was really looking forward to being able to warm up once they made it home. it had been cold the past few days, and even snowed a little, but this was the first real cold cold of the winter season. they hadn't expected it would get so cold so fast. "with marshmallows and whipped cream," she mused as they kept walking down the road. her boots crunched on the leaves swept into the road by the wind. "i would put a candy cane in it too if i could."

[ategods]

v ( @allegored ) said: " i thought you were dead. "

the mercenary finds her beneath a metal canopy, attached to a building that stands half as tall as the edifices that surrounds it. they're in the midst of a downpour; the sound of the rain drowns out almost everything else. the lights of the neon sign across the street glows in her hair. it spells out the word ' EVERGREEN '.

                                                       the doll, reanimated, doesn't look at her. " i know, " she says matter - of - factly, through a cloud of silvery smoke. there's a sadness to her voice. a tone of mourning & the intimation of an apology that never comes. there were an untold number of people who deserved her remorse; v didn't even make it to the top of the list.

her jaw sets with the flash of a memory. there's a brief, nearly indistinct tremble to her fingers. between them, the cigarette sizzles.

" i could say the same thing. still harboring a fugitive? "

[strnza]

[ shake ] sender shakes their head at receiver to dissuade them from continuing an action. / from lestat. (:

opaque  clouds  of  smoke  fill  dead  lungs.  spilled  drinks  and  sticky  remnants  (of  the  less  savory  kind)  cause  eliza's  heels  to  smack  and  cling  to  the  ground  with  every  step  she  takes  across  the  floor  of  the  crowded  club  -  she  still  disdains  the  constant,  all-encompassing  darkness  she  permanently  resides  in.  when  she  doesn't  have  lestat  at  her  side,  there  is  an  uncharacteristic  sneer  on  her  features  -  the  restitution  found  within  her  heightened  emotions  are  of  little  comfort  to  her  newfound  disposition.

and  still,  she  lurks  -  she  searches  for  her  prey.  the  only  hope  of  catching  a  glimpse  of  those  who  traipse  past  you  thanks  to  the  illumination  of  flashing  stage  lights  against  foreign  profiles.

the  patrons  of  the  establishment  are  sloppy  -  careless,  and  rightfully  so.  this  is  a  place  of  loose  morals,  a  temple  of  lazy  objectives  in  joy  and  revelry.  eliza  is  calculated  -  maniacal  in  her  focus  as  she  pinpoints  her  desired  target.  she  isn't  looking  for  a  meal  tonight,  though  she  should  be;  the  fledgling  is  tracking  down  anyone  and  everyone  who  will  (willingly  or  otherwise)  bring  her  closer  to  her  goal  of  tearing  her  maker  apart.

she  smells  omar's  confidante  before  she  sees  her  -  pinpoints  the  silhouette  taller  than  her  own  and  stalks  closer,  grabbing  the  woman  forcefully  by  the  arm  and  digging  her  nails  into  the  girl’s  skin  to  keep  her  in  place.  a  silent  threat  to  remain  compliant  until  she  feels  the  unwavering  gaze  of  another;  wordlessly,  implicitly,  carefully  ...  lestat  finds  her.

without  fail,  from  the  other  side  of  the  packed  venue,  he  finds  her.  in  the  strobe  lights,  she  sees  him  shake  his  head.  there  is  no  spoken  word  ushered  into  the  depths  of  her  mind,  no  soothing  tone  cradling  the  venomous  desire  for  revenge  in  the  pit  of  her  stomach  -  he  knows  her  well  enough  to  speak  with  no  words.  eliza  trusts  him  more  than  she  trusts  herself;  even  still,  that  doesn't  lessen  the  blow  of  how  hard  she  shoves  her  target  to  the  floor  as  she  turns  on  her  heel  to  stalk  away  from  the  situation  at  hand.  another  night,  she  relents  to  herself,  salving  her  own  rage  -  her  anger  will  not  go  quietly.

*        MEME,    still    accepting        /        @allegored        🤍

[washeartsbreaking]

@allegored sent "did you find the person that you were looking for?" / from karen

the courthouse was quickly emptying of people as maya had come late in the day. she had been hoping that matt would be here as he wasn't in his office and that if she came later in the day she might be able to catch him when he wasn't busy. she'd waited and looked for him, but maya hadn't been able to find him, and accepted that it was likely time to give up for the evening.

maya had seen her coming in the mirror hanging at the end of the hall. it was the same woman that asked her if she needed anything when she'd first begun looking around the courthouse. she shook her head. i think he already left. she looked at the woman closer and realized that she recognized her. i saw you in the pictures in the office. you're the page in nelson, murdock and page. if matt trusted her, than maya might consider that the woman could be just as helpful. she gestured for karen to follow her over to the side of the hallway and out of the flow of traffic.

[pseudolife]

@allegored ── LORENA DE RIVA

"being set apart is lonely, until you find purpose."

Being lonely had never been a problem for Eoghan, it was the idea of finding purpose that made him uncomfortable. The idea of realizing that, despite all the freedom he had sought, all the autonomy he had fought for, he still had something like fate tying him down... It was as devastating as being a slave had been - moreso as time went on, and he'd begun to get the sensation that his story, his fate, the ending of it, was never meant to be a pleasant one.

But, much like this conversation, he's learned to grin and bear it - what else could he do? Fight and spit and go down clawing at the walls, ruin it all for the team that was still forming because he could not accept that some things were just out of his hands? They had Gods to fight, Eoghan's little battle with his self worth and freedom was nothing when it came to the possible destruction of the world.

"Do you think you've found it, your purpose? Stopping Solas, killing Gods?" A nudge, shoulder to shoulder. A flash of bright teeth and teasing eyes. "Or is this just a stepping stone for something bigger for our Crow leader?"

[washeartsbreaking]

@allegored sent "people like you are dangerous." / from bucky

she knew she was, but she'd gone from the red room, to be being a free agent to the ten rings. she new that was likely to make anyone that knew her origin very uncomfortable, but she didn't care. she wasn't submitting herself to a new master blindly. xialing and the ten rings she was building was a cause gaja believed she had found herself in. who she was outside of the red room did not have to be killing for the highest bidder or giving up her power all together. it could be something different.

it just might be hard to convince him as such in the current situation. she moved out of the way of the table he'd pushed toward her with all the strength that famed metal arm. "you say that like it's becoming a problem for you," gaja retorted as she stopped moving to turn in his direction. she made the best use of the frustratingly limited space, taking a running start at him to push him into the wall. "are we going to talk like adults now?"

[wineassassin]

"i was given very minimal instructions," sebastian explains, wringing his hands and shooting @allegored an apologetic look. emily left him ill-prepared for this meeting with the private investigator — or perhaps that was on purpose, and he's just supposed to go into this chat devoid of knowledge and wide-open to interrogation. or maybe this is an elaborate prank. whatever the case may be, sebastian remains as polite as he can given the circumstances. he doesn't necessarily trust karen page just yet (regardless of his handler's assurance), but he's willing to listen. he's willing to listen, explain whatever needs explaining, and then leave this building, run home, and spend the remainder of his night wine drunk and lost in a good book. "she didn't really tell me why you need to speak with me, or what you're investigating. i'm..." he holds his palms up towards karen, a sheepish smile on his face, "... oblivious here, but i'm here to help. can i ask what you're investigating, miss page? and how do i... factor into this?"

[likesouvenirs]

@allegored requested: ❛ indulge . find my muse drinking to cope. / price finding troy.

it was dangerous when it was quiet. being left alone in her thoughts never did anything good for amelie troy, and the only way the soldier knew how to quiet the clamoring in her head was with amber liquor.

legs stretched out in front, as she laid haphazardly on concrete steps, staring up at the black sky. the only sound being that of the ocean waves crashing against the shore. troy had wandered far enough away from the duty station her team had set up days prior, bottle in hand and no particular destination in mind.

eyes fluttered to a close, and troy’s breathing had stabilized for the first time the whole day. if that wasn’t peace, troy didn’t know what was.

( it didn’t last long. )

shuffling of steps forced troy to reach at the hem of her pants, concealed knife taped to the ankle. eyes flew open and all she could see was a mug of a bearded man. upside down.

“i don’t recall inviting you to my secret spot, price,” troy joked, flatly, making no plans to move from her planked position.

the silence that followed wasn’t forced. troy wasn’t much of a fan of conversations - perhaps, that was why she had a hard time getting her team to follow instructions, they knew barely anything about her, and vice versa.

inhaling, troy pushed herself up to sit. spine straightened and she exhaled. pulling out two bottles, she ripped off the top and handed one to the man.

“do you ever regret joining up?” the question escaped troy’s mouth before she could mentally filter whether he was a safe person to ask.