#calidsaint

[laemortis]

@calidsaint // s.c.

||  █ ▌— kieran’s eyes are drawn up--and then up some more. he knows his stature is far from impressive, but craning his neck like this is unusual and he envies those of his fellows that have wings with which to flutter a little ways off the ground. they would have no problem looking this man in the eye. kieran, however, simply looks up.

and anyway, the man’s height isn’t the interesting bit. it’s the eyes. kieran’s own gold eyes narrow slightly. these aren’t the eyes of summer, or he doesn’t think they are. he knows summer well enough, now that it runs sticky through his veins. it’s something new and exciting.

oh, but he’s definitely staring. oops. he offers an easy smile. ❝ what a messy braid you have. does that not often come undone? ❞

[elluminate]

@calidsaint​

Crossing her arms with a rather obvious pout on her face, Elodie stares up at the castle with apprehension. She wasn’t scared of such a place -- but after her earlier outburst at her ‘audience’ with this kingdom’s princess, she felt like she must be on a blacklist of some sort. Still, if she could apologise for her rudeness and explain her situation, in a diplomatic way, as she had been taught -- then maybe the crown would take her into consideration. If the princess’s words were to believed, her presence here was an accident...

She sighs. She supposes she was free to do almost whatever she pleased, but not being treated politically, with no rules -- it was completely unfamiliar. Usually she would enjoy it, but...

                                                                    +1 Depressed

Hold on... she glances sharply to the side, her gaze narrowing when she notices someone’s eyes on her. He looked smart enough, but there was something about him that she didn’t like. She puts on her most petulant look. “Is something the matter?”

[heartdetector]

             An eyebrow couldn’t help but quirk itself when the man came into the presence of the other. Of course, Herlock had always known that he had a rather keen ability when it came to reading others so he wasn’t particularly surprised by the sensations that came with it by this point. However what he WAS surprised by was what exactly the small voice in the back of his head was telling him. ‘ Something’s not quite right. ’ Of course, one could argue that nothing in this strange land was ‘ right ’ however there was something especially not --- right about this stranger. He couldn’t place it without observing the other --- it wasn’t an ideal thing to do, he knew, especially when the police in this land were not yet on his side, but he could arrange a --- 

             Ah. It seems he was careless and the stranger had made eye contact with him. Well there goes his possible afternoon plans, he couldn’t help but think to himself as he fixed a gentlemanly smile on his face. It was best to act as if he wasn’t about to spend his afternoon observing this stranger, after all. “ Good afternoon, is there something I could help you with ? ” he asked politely. He was unsure how well he covered his actions, however if that was unsuccessful he was fully prepared to simply talk his way out of a potential awkward situation. //  @calidsaint X

[mercinhard]

@calidsaint​​ || (didn’t like a call, but has privileges bc i stan)

  Well, the kissing booth was enough of a success to pay for lunch, and it’s with a bittersweet combination of pride and disappointment that Wade heads to the local Denny’s. It’s decent enough, he orders a coffee after his waitress tells him they don’t make fraappuccinos there, nor do they serve mountain dew, and a sandwich to go because as cute as the 50′s diner aesthetic is, it’s no T*co B*ll. And so he’s holding his coffee and sandwich, making his way down the street back to his kissing booth when he notices a small ruckus.

  Some punk kids have vandalized the thing, and changed the sign to say “KILLING BOOTH” and splattered (what he hopes is) red paint all over it. It’s with an incredibly large and loud gasp that his coffee falls to the ground. Not the sandwich though, a man’s gotta eat, after all. “This is awful! How could they do this?!” He’s all but screaming, and everyone nearby is staring as they continue walking. “I charge way more than 50 cents to kill someone!! This can’t stand.”

  He returns to the jar, now fully emptied and takes a marker from one of his many pockets to adjust the smaller of the two signs. “50 cents or whatever the fuck heck dang currency here is. dollars and I’ll kill anyone 18+ who’s a jerk. Discount if they’ve ever given you a wedgie or taken your lunch money. Extra fees will be applied if they’re hot.” When he’s finished, he sighs and places it in front of the jar. An arm rests loosely on the cardboard, his free hand moving to lift his mask just enough to take a bite of the sandwich. With his mouth full, Wade goes back to yelling - that worked well last time. “Killing booth! Fifty bucks and I’ll kill any bad guy, gal, or otherwise gendered individual over 18!” Never mind that he’s pretty sure people don’t stay dead here, it’s the thought that counts. “Killing booth, come get your discount murder! My prices are unbeatable, and my morals are questionable! I’ll even kill you as long as you pay me first!”

[alkemistry]

This kingdom that had kidnapped him had taken away his lab.

...Well, actually, that’s not true. His lab is probably exactly where he remembers it, but seeing as he no longer has access to it as a result of being kidnapped and relocated somewhere completely unknown, it’s currently as good as gone. And that means he has no supplies, no materials, nothing -- which is really not ideal, especially in a kingdom full of interesting foreign technology he’d like to study. (Oh -- and also run by his kidnappers. Having nothing on hand isn’t so great for that situation either.)

However, despite the city’s strangely advanced tech, it seems almost ridiculously obsessed with magic. Or at least, that’s the impression he gets after finding a section of the city that’s positively dedicated to it. There’s an almost offensive amount of stores and such all related to magic, and once Varian’s stumbled upon the cluster of them, there’s so many that it’s almost impossible to stumble back out of it. He eyes the storefronts with open skepticism, steering clear of them as best he can (which is actually pretty hard, considering they’re practically everywhere). One thing does catch his eye, though -- an object that looks to be made of glass, without the telltale magical-looking design flair that everything else here seems to have. From a distance, it looks like something that could, maybe, actually be used, something that isn’t... magic. Or at least, it doesn’t look magical; Varian scoops it up to inspect it, but fumbles it. The object flies out of his hands as though it’s slick and covered in butter. He yelps and makes a dive for it, managing to catch it before it hits the floor, but the move ends with him sprawled awkwardly on the ground, nose right at someone’s feet.

Varian cranes his head back, expression melting into sheepishness, and gives a toothy grin. ❝ Oh, uh-- S-sorry. ❞ He lets out a short, nervous burst of laughter, springing back to his feet, the object clasped safely between his hands as he returns it to its perch. His gaze flicks to the side, embarrassed; there’s a beat of hesitation before he speaks up again. ❝ Hey, umm--... I was wondering -- d’you know if there’s any places in the city that have stuff that isn’t... uh... this? ❞

@calidsaint​​, please, there’s got to be someplace else. (starter call.)

[awandering-vanguard]

@calidsaint​ liked your post:“like for a starter. it’ll happen over the next few days.”

Thancred’s never been one to stand still.

How many times, now, has he found himself flung through places he never chose to explore? How many times, now, has he ended up lost and alone and so far from his friends? How many times, now, has he had to figure out if he’s coming or going or standing still? Once is already too much, but more than once means he already knows how to keep himself from losing his grip on reality and his sanity and his hopeful drive to get home.

The gunblade is not a gunblade. It doesn’t fit in his hands the way his gunblade does. It weighs far less than his gunblade weighs. It has no cylinder to load with aether-charged cartridges like his gunblade has. He doubts it would even survive a single strike against a soft surface without collapsing into a million pieces. But it’s still something. It’s still a grip in his fingers and a weight extending past his arm, and that’s enough to at least go through the motions; enough to lose himself in the familiarity of it all in what he had assumed was a quiet area in the park.

[excessivelyalive]

@calidsaint​ asked: [ 📲 • sms ] —— you’ve been on my mind all day today

Texting Starters

TO: The Calid Saint FROM: Miriam Shushkevich

[SMS]: oh you’re cute!!! what the shit

[SMS]: lmao tell me more, though.

[SMS]: oh yeah 😜🥰👻 btw. (im very cute thanks)

[redgravejournals]

@calidsaint​ asked for a part 2 starter let’s GOOOO

Eternal darkness isn’t too unusual for Luka to deal with. Well, maybe a little bit--but he’d also seen Bayonetta basically fight a god like, twice. Still, he’s been roped into helping bring back a Sage of Dark or whatever, and he’s decided that gathering raven feathers or maybe getting blood from a demon aren’t too hard. 

...On second thought, maybe he didn’t want to deal with demons. Angels were worse, but...

Alright, yeah, if he’s doing this, he’s not doing it alone, so he decides to hit up the closest attractive stranger.

“Hey, uh...would you mind going with me to get some of those materials they say we need? I was thinking maybe feathers or the demon blood. The...demon blood might be tricky, though.”