#ask reply.

[whimsyckal]

something tells me a front page story could be bad for my health. /+ for mabel

@demobrat

mabel is great at finding her own fun and comfort even in the toughest of situations. yet this isn't tough, not even remotely it's fun. dipper never told her how this nerd game was almost like setting up a show. eddie and her are doing what she's dubbed immersive fantastical set dressing. it's the area behind the throne. she's done the job is ransacking her grunkle's basement for old timey fabrics, now she helping with the nails and the stapler.

except now she has in her grubby hands the latest teen idol magazine, throwing to drown what sounds like trashcans doing the can can dance. or alternatively what eddie munson has royally decreed to be good music. all she can imagine is a cat running through the alley. maybe that's the image it's supposed to evoke.

"no, no, no, we are not paying attention to those today. as much as i would loooove to know what ralph macchio's favorite snack on set is, we have like work to do and i need you in perfect health, or as close as we can get." she looks up at eddie in the ladder she borrowed from the school supply closet. "-we're doing a quiz! i'll just ask the questions and you give me your answer and i'll write it down. i won't tell you what it's for." her smile is adorned with metal and she finger guns him. "until we are done of course. a little mystery never hurt anyone." she shakes her head as she makes a weird voice to say the last part.

[outoft1me]

pretty boy, i said with me

jason is busy, in his own little world. business as usual. he hears annie, distractedly. nods with it, pretty boy, surely about someone else. in the room. he looks around before he feels her hand. warmth spreads, like standing right next a fire he can almost smell the marshmallows. eyes blink as he gets pulled away.

"oh." it's soft, suddenly the warmth spreads to his face, his cheeks. "oh i didn't think you. you meant me. like when you said-" he gets a dorky smile on his face, holds her up. pulls them to a stop for a moment. jason tries to find her eyes before speaking. "-wait. wait. wait. say it again. please?" is this the time or the place? probably not. but she started it.

[anquenin-archive]

i can't wear things like that anyway.

the city brings forth so many things. things to see, things to do. it also brings the dread, eyes, cazador looms over astarion's momentary happiness, his fleeting freedom. their little adventuring party were invited to a coronation, trap or not it astarion cares little. he wishes nothing more than to show off, the type of action that would certainly be a slap to the face to cazador. he's almost gleeful.

karlach towers over him, and astarions moves gracefully, ears flickers. he's in high alert his imagination does not compare the machinations of cazador's twisted mind. karlach does bring him some sense of comfort and safety. they are side by side, when they past the stores, dresses. the expensive kind.

they fall into a conversation.

and then. i can't wear things like that anyway.

astarion looks offended. eyes karlach, a once over. fingers on his chest. "nonesense." sure karlach's fashion sense isn't refined or delicate, she is all leather, weaved into functionality more than anything else but that does not mean that karlach isn't deserving of some finer things. if she wants them. "all there would need to be done is a good fitting." and astarion smirks then "and it appears you are incredibly lucky, my dear, a good fitting is within my wide set of abilities. you'd just have to ask." this is perhaps, a little bit self indulgent. karlach is not only funny and nice, she's breathtakingly beautiful. a dress she does not need, but astarion can't help his mind wonder. a slit, she looks best in black. makes the red pop.

[zat4nna]

[ hair & lean ]  –  for the sender to brush a strand of hair out of the face, and lean in slowly for a kiss.

zatanna remembers what it is like to be kissed by john constantine. it's just the two of them, she does not know why she let him so close. but it's easy. it's easier than running and trying to put a sea between them. she's looking at him and he's older, stopped being that young man she fell in love with. it's not like he has changed, but maybe she has, the circumstances certainly have. she sees him and she does not see the fire, or death looming grim over his shoulder. she just sees him, getting lost on blue eyes. he leans in. and the old zatanna would've moved away. the old zatanna would have been upset. but she's been livining stuck in the past, like a broken record, living like a ghost, like she was the one who died.

but her mind clears, her cheeks warm. and her hands on his shoulders, the hesitation of pushing melts into the intent of pulling him just that little bit closer. leans closer and faster than him. a conscious decision. zatanna almost melts into it, the tension leaving her body. and she remembers, it's this very silly warm feeling. it's like casting magic without any of the words. she's twenty again, it's all the good with none of the bad. the rub of his stubble, the way the smell of cigarettes kisses the airs. damn you, john constantine.

[polarnoid]

you're so old school. i love it. -> Pearl

she shifts the balance of her body nervously, draws half a smile. lately she's found herself at the company of violet. did not know what to make of her, she's seen things distractedly either imposed over the monitor, sequences roll by and pearl isn't entirely sure what they mean. something underneath the surface of violet but the images static and blurry enough. whatever is in charge of what pearl can see clearly did not take into consideration visibility when it came down to these visions. pearl's eyes linger over it. distracted. the tv is definitely off to others.

"yeah. old school." she sort of sighs before turning back to vi. clearing her throat. "-i mean it's partially because they put the damn-" and then her voice, quieter "-curse on a goddamn tape. like. okay i get it. but it's like a thousand times harder than to just. look it up somewhere else." that still does not account why she seems to be a living image of the nineties. decade somewhat past gone.

[juliegion]

typical of me to go and ruin the party . ( susie )

julie rolls her eyes at the comment, it annoys her. ( like, as if she cared more for a stupid party than susie not feeling okay. like fuck, susie get with the times. ) she's holding brightly pink dyed hair back, both of them sitting down on some rando's bathroom. the music muffled by the door.

"susie, baby. you can't ruin something that's already shitty." her voice tries to go for sweet, ends up somewhere in bitchy. but her eyes are soft. "-this party blows. i told micheal not to give you too much. and maybe you shouldn't have taken that cup either." she's just pointing out the obvious. takes some of the blame but still gives some of it away. "we should ditch, i can't stand his ass right now. do you think you're...like good enough to walk? do we want to wait?" she could kill someone right now. from bored and uninterested to a simmering rage. she can keep a lid on it. for now.

[forfuse]

Thread / scenario idea: The AU in which Hound's people live in the most desolate parts of the deserts of Salvo. Walter has to flee from a fight he's not winning and crashes a ship in the worst place to crash one. Hound saves his life by carrying him back home and nursing him back to health >:)

walter is best under pressure. many have said this. in this precise moment he isn't too sure about it. ship crashed, head pounding. and it doesn't feel like he's in the ship where he was supposed to be. his body hurts and he recognizes that, what he doesn't recognize is everything else. there's someone else in the room, he can see them moving. everything is a blur still, he can't focus on anything.

"oi." it's raspy, like he hasn't used his voice in a while. busts out the winning smile. whoever it is, walter feels out of place. he doesn't trust anyone that isn't maggie, but he isn't fucking dead. lucky that. so, this is all he has. "-am i dreamin'?" he feels fuzzy at the edges, the pain not sharp enough to snap him back into himself in the way he is used to.

[puhddin]

what's in it for you?

harley is all but smiles. her eyes have gone all starry! she has to look up, and for once she isn't necessarily doing anything bad. (she's been relatively well behaved recently.) "well now that ya' asked, doll." she clears her throat, trusts @truthqueen (out of anyone on planet earth) would understand. "-there's this guy, among the bad eggs yer' trynna' catch. he's got like a crazy bounty on that head of his. and little ol' me would just loooove to get my hands on it." she pulls out the paper where she printed out the relevant information. and she holds it out for her to take. the smile not wiping from her face. "-i know that a girl like ya', well, wowzers! there's nothin' ya' can't do, but i'm an excellent sidekick, just ask anyone ya' know!" maybe not batman. but, who knows maybe he's given her glowing reviews.