#cityguilt

[nichtschaden]

@cityguilt

“ IT  HAS ,  hasn’t  it — ?  It  was  about  time   I  showed  my  face  again . ”

      “Cards on the table, it’s really good to see you.”

Rarely did the German’s voice sound so genuine, and he beckoned Leon inside with a jerk of his head.

      “You know I have to doctor you now, come on. You look like you haven’t slept in three years. When’s the last time you ate something?”

[officerrcdfield]

@cityguilt

“Leon, look can I just apologize for all the shit we’ve been thrown into? And just my shitty attitude back then? I don’t think I ever did.”

[darckcarnival]

cityguilt liked your post:sinful sunday time: got any sexy lingerie?

-INTERNAL SCREAMING-

[zonnelicht]

@cityguilt​

It breaks his heart seeing Leon in this state: throwing him- self down down a road he knows all too well. Devastating and terrifying. The largest part of him (the part that loves and cares for Leon; something soft, kind, and nurturing.) wants to hold the blond. Approach with comforting words whispered in kind tones. Coddle him. It’s something he knows he CAN’T do. Fists clench at his side, brow furrowing.

Christ, he doesn’t want to do this. He doesn’t want to be the one to ruin what poisonous peace Kennedy has found: knowing all too well just how delicate this shit is. Yet he does not know how else to approach this but play into a sense of DUTY.

If only he had the luxury to be soft and accommodating.

So he steels himself. Expression stern and scowling, tone rougher than he wants it to be – he can’t afford to give Leon any room to argue on this.

“ You have to. I'm not going to let you throw your life away,     or clean up the mess YOU left behind.  ”

[hellshumanity]

@cityguilt        [continued]

    Touchy subject, huh? Dante leans back with a shrug and drawn out hum. Fingers closing around a glass of toxic green. (The sugar dripping in to it long since dissolved, spoon discarded.) He doesn’t shrink back at the glare, doesn’t seem fazed by it at all. But it’d be a lie to say he doesn’t feel the weight behind it. Far too familiar for his liking. 

    “Point taken. As it happens, I do have one more left. Just answer me this: why is this your problem?” For the same reason this demonic infestation on earth is HIS? A misplaced sense of responsibility for problems they got dragged in to and never quite escaped from. With that in mind, it’s clear from his tone that he doesn’t judge the agent. It’s just curiosity; nothing more and nothing less than that.

[mansionguilt]

@cityguilt  STARTER

    Chris stands at the foot of the staircase leading up the entrance of the RCPD. Hands shoved deep in the pockets of leather jacket, ( the pin-up angel decorating the back staring up at entrance above) purposely breathing out just hard enough to mist the cold evening air. It’s a familiar sight, to see Redfield waiting out on the steps. Though his companion for this evening won’t be Jill, as is usually the case.

    No one enters the building at this hour, and few of those who remain seem to leave. The wait’s long enough that he has to fight the urge to reach for one of two remaining cigarettes stored in an inside pocket — he’s promised too many people he’d kick the habit. It really isn’t worth it. So he leans back against cool stone with a sharp exhale, casting a look back as doors open and a familiar figure walks out. About time.

    “You took your sweet time escaping the department, Kennedy. I should have you buy us our first round for making me wait so long.” Jovial tone and grin are indication that he’s joking. It’s clear he’s feeling far from annoyed or irritated, pulling a hand free from his pocket to clap the younger on the shoulder, pushing him along down the street for a couple steps before letting his arm drop back to his side.

            “What’cha craving?”