#cxsurus

[cothurnas-blog1]

♟

♟ | patching up a wound

There are worse people to be trapped with while one suffers a fair amount of pain from a nice puncture through his shoulder, but Corvo's had to scale buildings while dizzy from poison and exhaustion and all manner of other things before, so maybe it's not all that terrible in the first place.

He clears words out of his throat with the tiniest of coughs only to immediately regret it as blood pushes through the gash in his shoulder when he instinctively goes to put away his sword.

That went sideways, he thinks but doesn't say, but his face must show it because the other simply makes the most incredulous expression back and oh, his mask. His hand touches his face for all of a moment before she hands the fearsome visage over. Fixing her with a look, Corvo goes about taking an elixir from his pocket.

               "Stop."

He does.

She takes over. Practiced hands, firm touch; she does not mess around while fixing him up, and he does not flinch from it. It will heal quickly but for now he thinks that maybe he won't Blink in front of any more bullets anytime soon; he could have just as easily pushed her out of the way without using himself as a shield.

     Old habits, though.

[ofavarice]

{9 and 27 for the 30 questions meme?}

9 ) Does your character dream or are their nights filled with an empty blackness? Describe a dream they’ve had or a night they couldn’t sleep and what they did to preoccupy their time.

Well he sleeps during the day, and sometimes the chirping/cawing of waking birds keeps him awake longer than desired, along with the sounds of The City hustling and bustling. Though he’s mostly used to sleeping through the noise.

He dreams more often than not, though most are uneventful and filled with recollections of the past. I can think of one dream he might’ve had where he’s just running. He’s not sure where, or what he’s running from, but there’s a sense of adrenaline and beautiful panic that makes him feel more alive than anything else in the world. On the rare days he simply can’t sleep at all (because by the time he gets back to his tower, he’s totally beat) he’ll preoccupy himself with reading — so much reading — or tweaking his gear, or perhaps even laying in bed and listening to the tick-tock of the clock. Most of the time, that beat will soothe him to sleep. 

27 ) If your character had one thing to say to their parents before they died, what would it be?

Gah, he was so young when they passed, that he hardly got to know them at all. A part of him is tempted to tell them not to leave him alone. But then again, he likes how he turned out because of being abandoned. He feels he would have discovered the harshness of the world soon enough, and their passing only rushed the fact. It’s almost as if he never had parents to begin with because of his lack of a relationship with them. They’re just people. Maybe the Queen is right and he’s simply a child born from the shadows themselves. 

[ofavarice]

◊ {bc I live for the snark between these two}

Put a “◊” in my ask for a sticky note left on your fridge in the morning by my muse.

      Your room is a disaster.                 Clean it.

[cothurnas-blog1]

He fell, but rose even stronger.

[ofavarice]

Hey hey hey I'm here for the URL thing

→SEND A URL AND I WILL ANSWER THE FOLLOWING;

Do I Follow Them?: nO IM SORRY IM A BUTT

Why Did I Follow Them?: HUGE BUTT

Do We Role Play?: yeS!

Do I Want To Role Play With Them: ye! your character is pretty interesting upon readin your thingy thing bio thing! ---holy fuck its my reply isnt it wHOOPSIES

An AU Idea For Our Muses: ----she becomes his new Erin aslkdmgsf

A Song For Our Muses: T HIS

Do I Ship Our Muses?: nahhhhhh

What I Think About The Mun: never really talked to ya bUT YA SEEM NEATOOO

Overall Opinion: I'm always really hesitant when it comes to OCs, but I like yours! They seem v headstrong and clash well with Garrett! The back story is very explanatory and YEHAW I LIKE YA

Blog Rate: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

[cothurnas-blog1]

"I want the K" ((Hi))

#6 | gentle peck

     Being chased by the City Watch is never enjoyable, Corvo finds, and he sweeps around a corner, shoes sliding on the wet pavement as he sprints down the way, vanishes and reappears further. He cannot throw away the mask and he cannot hide his clothing; they will know him if they see him, and that cannot be. 

     There is a woman, he sees, form masked by shadow as she is, and Corvo whips the mask off before she looks at him. The mask is held in hand, an attempt to shield it as he ducks under the small roof that protects the woman from the thin drizzle in the air, and he throws his hood down and presses a finger to his lips, a plead for her to shhh.

     Footsteps grow nearer, and he kisses her before even a hello.

     It is a gentle, soft, pliant thing — this is not an assault, he wishes to promise, but the walls are too high even for he who can blink and be anywhere, and so he promises it with his kiss, so carefully. 

     The footsteps are loud, just behind them, and then quiet again, and Corvo moves back, murmurs an apology more than once, and runs in the opposite direction.