#beautiful mischief

[sanguinisa]

@beautiful-mischief ;;

Hurt. Everything hurt. Nan didn't know how she'd gotten any of the countless scars across her body, but she knew which ones were newest. The stitches still hadn't come out, her torso cut into a Y shape like an autopsy gone wrong, but she couldn't stop. She had to get ... somewhere. There was something she had to do.

But what?

Who was she?

What was she?

Her head hurt. Her body ached. Her marrow itself throbbed with the effort of being alive. She lumbered, oversized and all too obviously inhuman, with a maul strapped to her back, a beast of the forest if ever there was one. Yet it was such a beautiful day, sunny and temperate. A cool breeze played against her burning skin.

The sight of a person drew her up short, a solitary man wandering between the trees. "Hey --" she barked, not sure if she should warn the man or not. Part of her salivated over the sight of him, her arms itching to take up Corpsegrinder and let it live up to its name. The rest, however, pushed on, and she could force the words from her throat. "Hey, you shouldn't be out here. There's a monster in these woods."

Nan paused, frowning. How did she know that? She must have been here before. But when?

[archaeval]

@beautiful-mischief ;

It was a miserable day. The sky was as blue as ever, wind blowing just so. The birds sang sweetly as Jane frolicked among the trees. Ruby watched from the shadow of an oak, scowl cemented on her lips. "I would find it tolerable if it were raining, you know. All this sunshine is irritating at best." The weather was sympathetic to her emotions to a point. Were things worse, it would have turned cloudy and gray. But this setback was barely enough to send a few clouds scuttling across the sky, making lovely shapes for her child to pick out now and again.

[leatherfangs]

@beautiful-mischief liked x ;

Liddy leaned over the back of the couch, wrapping her arms around Loki's shoulders and burying her face in his neck. "Loki, babe, do you still love me?" She sounded small. A lump was forming in her throat, and she swallowed hard around it. In the corner were the sad remains of a knitting experiment using pipe cleaners instead of yarn. Needless to say, things were not going well.

[noblevoleur]

@beautiful-mischief | cont.

“Strange, how that didn’t occur to you last night. You certainly weren’t complaining when I was on my knees.”

Of course Mal doesn't take this seriously; it appears that there are few things in life that he does. He is carefree in a way Robin can only pretend to be. Guilt certainly doesn't appear to be a term that frequents in his vocabulary. Robin's statement is met with amusement, as though the very notion that something could ever be forbidden is somehow ridiculous.

"I do not believe there is a serious bone in your body," Robin mutters, a flush of colour settling on his cheeks. No, he certainly had not been complaining. He had been more than willing and plenty satisfied. "I'm not saying I didn't enjoy myself." Perhaps that's part of the problem.

[lunarscorching]

@beautiful-mischief cont. from x

The artist had a way of coming undone as though all of the colours of the universe were merging into one. Strands of ink-blot hair that had been loosed by Mal's fingers prior, now lined him as thin strokes of charcoal, sketching the face of a man wholly overtaken by drunken lust and poor decision.

Papery sighs, indulgent moans, these failing efforts to regain a semblance of composure as he tasted the complexity of the other man's tongue. "Hardly." Says he, reaching back upon the paint stained stool for the glass of green liquor he had poured earlier, the sweet-bitter licorice of absinthe to wet his dried throat before he kisses Mal again, opened eyed and watching, admiring the rosy swirling amongst the golden lick of his beautiful curse.

How difficult a question to afflict upon his poisoned mind. Hithon slides his hand beneath Mal's shirt, stroking the warm flesh of his back, breaking the kiss only so far to answer the question. "There is the lounger by the front," the portraiture chair they were already in, "or my bed," which wasn't in a room, but nestled behind tall wood partitions, for the entirety of the loft studio was an expanse of open space.

[miss-polly]

@beautiful-mischief ;

She'd been listening to Loki talk for ages now, going on about something that felt almost completely beyond her. She was grasping bits and pieces, but, more than anything, she was watching him. The way he gesticulated, the way he smiled. Make no mistake, Polly had found Loki attractive from the first moment she met him, but there was something so undeniably beautiful about how he looked when he was talking about something that excited him so much. At first, Polly thought she wouldn't mind listening to him talk for the rest of her life.

And then she thought, I love him.

Warmth bloomed in her chest, spreading across her face, as the realization sunk in. This wasn't just an infatuation, or adoration for a friend. This was something deep. Undeniably heavy and light all at once. The corners of her mouth curved upwards, and she'd spoken it aloud before she knew what was happening -- interrupting him, no less.

"I love you."

Simple words, easily said -- far more easily than she ever thought they would be.

"I -- I really love you, Loki. So very much."

[keylimexpie]

@beautiful-mischief continued from here

Mobius had never seen anything quite like this, Asgard was beautiful in the morning light. Magical.

For a brief moment the analyst closed his eyes to enjoy the sun, feeling the warmth that reached, it was moments such as this that made him want to step down from the TVA, as much as he enjoyed his works and what he did Mobius had always felt like he was missing something. This, whatever it was.

" True, TVA doesn't have sights like this. I guess if you count the loom room, the stars are beautiful for there but." Slowly his eyes open, glancing over at Loki with a smile." This is something else, you were right, Asgard is marvelous."

[archaeval]

@beautiful-mischief for mal ;

RUBY HAD SUMMONED HER FAVORITE TAILOR with the help of Loki's messaging spell. Her friend had, of course, received an invitation to the masque by way of thanks, not that Ruby would admit to hoping he'd come. If nothing else, she'd share a glass of champagne with him and spend an hour or two together judging the poorly dressed and audacious costumes.

Until then, however, preparations must be made. Ruby's getup was the color of death in winter -- a rich deep blue-grey gown shot through with ice and a mask to match. But as for her dear gardener.... She circled his pedestal as the many-armed tailor took Mal's measurements. "I like verdant spring afternoons on you, but the violet of summer dusks brings a certain warmth to your complexion..."

She had yet to ask what he wanted to wear. Instead, Ruby leveled a reminder of her expectations: "You will, of course, be on your best behavior, mind. No fairy wine, no seeking out any would-be lovers. I won't have you wandering off to another realm and leave my roses to rot."