#earthspin

[survivores]

they were flirting with you. - trevorlove return to me

" oh, they were? " faux surprise contorted his expression, as if the shark wouldn't notice the sight of blood despite its level of satiation. disgusting, yes, but an apt analogy — not a man of one person, at least not until her. he may have noticed the attention, of course, but brown eyes never strayed once, navigating that tricky conversation with the ease of someone who had done it before.

trevor had never been scared of sticky situations, no friction able to stop the slither of his wide smile and natural ability to socialize. that was the real reason why he exceeded at his job as a bartender; his drinks were mediocre at best but the presence behind the bar kept people entertained, even if he couldn't flirt back — especially not under the hawk-like stare of his love. " didn't even notice, could only think about how i was about to clock out to spend time with you. " he spoke already mid-way for a kiss.

[anoffering-a]

He wished more than anything he could paint a picture for Ashlyn like he did that night. The way her eyes lit up and the way she smiled at him made him feel something that he could never replicate, even with the most powerful of magic. It wasn't a perfect replication of their night under the stars, but it was as close as he could get with the power and energy he had now. Inside of his tent, he creates a smaller meadow — ones reminiscent of Waterdeep, with the sound of the waves lapping the shore filling the air and with a crackling bonfire and a clear night sky. It's much smaller than his last attempt, and the exploring will have to be minimal, but he hopes she still likes it all the same. “ No astral projection this time. Just plain magic, and the two of us. ” He holds his hand out to @earthspin, motioning towards his tent. “ After you, my lady. ”

[cowardlies]

tardis  , console room  : 14:30:18 pm .

he would not self describe what he's doing as fiddling, rather he's working on a rather impressive bit of alien technology that just so happens to be wrapped in quite a few wires from the last time he'd experimented with it.

something about adjusting polar alignments . . . the explanation gets a bit jumbled when their hands are busy uncoiling a bit of copper that was really, truly, entirely unnecessary if he's being honest.

he's been waiting for her to get back, he's already popped out for a bit of misadventure and look at him, home in time for supper ! what kind of life is that ?!

the sound of the door creaking open and he all but jumps up to greet her, whatever tool he'd been toying with is tossed to the side of the console room as he goes on a half rant about agora, lovely little agricultural planet this side of the centraxis system

i'll be calling in a favor. - rose

she's said something and the doctor pauses, blinking to get his attention back on @earthspin and away from his own prattling.

“ calling in a . . . ” they look properly confused now, eyebrows furrowed as his gaze dances over her features, taking in her body language, expression, as if what she's said is really that confusing.

“ you know, traditionally, in order for you to call in a favor the other party would have to owe you one ? ” the doctor makes a show of leaning against the console, arms crossing over his chest in what will surely be pointless stubborn defiance.

[bllakc4tmoved]

CATS GO WHERE THEY PLEASE, : SHE IS THE VERY EXAMPLE OF THAT, ... the sneaky feline fatale. it is something she could do in her sleep, so natural for her to go where she shouldn't, or isn't welcomed to. ( 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐔𝐍𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐒. ) ... that very thing proven again, as she stood there, that smug grin upon those lips KISSED BY MIDNIGHT, even when the statement comes : @earthspin + clint barton ' you can’t come around here anymore . '

SHE LETS A SOFT CHUCKLE ESCAPE, : SWEET TROUBLE CLEARLY AMUSED BY THE STATEMENT. has warnings ever worked with her? don't they just fuel that thrillseeking heart further? ... ❝ aw, clint, ❞ 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐋𝐘 𝐅𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐍𝐄𝐃 pout, but she lets the curtain slip : when the enchating curve returns to her lips. ❝ you are no fun. ❞ she adds, with an exhale. but clearly, she remains amused. ❝ not that you saying that would stop me, ... but you already know that, don't you? ❞

[satellitewar-archived]

from @earthspin: something about him rubs me the wrong way. - nancy to shawky!

"a lot of things about him rub me the wrong way." shawky itches his arm beneath his too-fancy suit sleeve and grabs nancy's hand, ushering her out the nearby door. "that's the same man who tried to steal my findings in alexandria. the same man who smashed an ancient lekythos in front of my face. i told you about him once — that's carlsson." nancy is smart for picking up on horrid vibes and even more horrible intentions — but then again, she's always excelled in her observations. shawky didn't even have time to say oh, that's emil carlsson, that's the evil antiquities collector that tried to kill me once; nancy just knew from one look. "if he's here at this event, the key must be closer than we thought." he steals a knowing look from nancy, who looks much calmer and focused than he is. "if we can just figure out the combination on that statue, we can run to the back of the museum when no one's looking and... you know, try it. see if that thing opens up." he peeks in the direction they came from, terrified to see emil carlsson's frightening face poke from behind the doorway. "and avoid him at all costs if we can, thanks. you don't want to know what he's capable of and you don't want him to know that i'm here. trust me." shawky is far more concerned about nancy's safety, of course, but he doesn't say that yet. not now.

[rhedact]

— .ᐣ LIKE CLOCKWORK ... @earthspin + steve , ... [ [ 3AM ] a dark graveyard thick with petrichor, well beyond visiting hours. ]

shirley / crain — it feels wrong ... TO BE HERE -- the moon like a guide, and if some morbid miracle were to occur and it lost its light twice she doesn't think she would be afraid. shirley doesn't even think she would blink. its been years since she has visited. death like an old friend. haunts the hallways of her vessel, a cold like no other, and maybe that's why her teeth have stopped chattering. she doesn't know anything else.

plumes of fog dance in lamp lights. the rain bid them farewell an hour ago, but she can still smell the earths hello in its aftermath. ten years is a long time when something still feels like yesterday. a wound unhealed. an uneaten chunk of trauma lapsing beneath her tongue. she can never quite get the words out. " when's the last time you came? " for how many times she's looked death in the eyes, how many times she knows she will continue to in her line of work, there are only a handful of times she has been scared to look back. the stone might as well have opened its mouth and laughed at her. " i ... don't even know if i remember the way. " LIES, LIES, LIES. she couldn't forget, even if she wanted to ... and believe me: she's tried.

[thefixeroutie]

“That’s a pretty fucking good milkshake. I don’t know if it’s worth five dollars but it’s pretty fucking good.”  - Selina

there are at times ,   a feeling of distance and detachment .   it comes on slow but naturally ,   like a ghost watching a couple beyond the veil .   perhaps she can imagine scenarios and then find empathy in the endings .   if she can just reach out and touch them ,   perhaps those feelings of closeness will seep into her pores .      that is temptation ,   and temptation breeds mistakes .   a mistake of emotion is a matter of life and death .   death is not the answer   ...   at least not now .   her tongue makes small circles on the inside of her cheek .   watching selina while new york moves around them   ( a fast paced world that will no sooner eat you up and swallow you hole . )   eyes scan for   ...   minor inconveniences that could mean bigger problems .   as mia does with most people who have come into her life ,   she evaluates where they stand .   ever searching for the hate that inevitable forms in their heart .

" see ? "   words make her lips turn upward ,   bringing her hamburger up her lips .   " told ya' this place got some good shakes , "   and with that she takes a giant bite out of her food .   awkward silences was never her thing ,   and she hated small talk to begin with .   mia was at least confident that wasn't boring   ...   marcel did tell her she needed to attempt to connect with selina .   " trust me ,   five bucks is the least amount of money you'll pay for a shake .   a decent one costs like   ...   six or seven bucks with change . "  the brunette finally swallows her food before she picks up her soda to drink .   " shit ,   at least it ain't some fine dinin' shit like marcel drags me to on occasion . "   mia leans in close ,   " talk about overpriced shit for garbage . "

[cursedbirth]

SATINE: YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND. IT DOESN'T MATTER WHAT HAPPENS TO ME.

the private lounge was quiet and lit by the low burn of amber sconces and the occasional flicker of candlelight, all soft enough to blur the edges of grief. music filtered through the heavy curtains in murmurs; in this room, time didn’t move forward. it circled back on itself like a waltz. genevieve sat curled into one end of the velvet settee, posture relaxed, but every inch of her was watchful. the kind of stillness that suggested not indifference, but care. the vampire across from her looked like she had sung her own soul out night after night and only now realized it never returned; pale beneath the glamour, too quiet beneath the show. and genevieve saw it — not just the hunger, but the guilt that came after. the fear of what she’d become.

genevieve’s hand moved first, a slow reach, gloved fingers brushing across the table until they came to rest lightly over satine’s. a gesture solely meant to ground her. 'no, mon amie, i do not understand, because it matters to me what happens to you. it matters deeply,' there is no poetry in her words, for once, no mask to hide how she's feeling. just the weight of old friendship, and the quiet plea of one woman who had survived her own breaking, looking at another who was still learning how to. 'you came to new orleans for a reason,' genevieve murmured, eyes gentle but unflinching. 'you still have a place here,' thumb brushes gently against the back of satine’s hand. 'even if you do not believe it, i promise you do,' @earthspin.