+5
< [➶] > "Afternoon, and welcome to the Westchester Police Department."
"Lieutenant Abigail Mills. Do you have an incident to report?"

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+5
< [➶] > "Afternoon, and welcome to the Westchester Police Department."
"Lieutenant Abigail Mills. Do you have an incident to report?"
x
thoughts; ugh, this bitch. total loser with pretty hair and face and her stupidly awesome writing skills and her fuckin obVIOUSly perfect character development/perception. what a dweeeeeeeb. (´(エ)`)
ooc:
mISSUS T YOU ARE VERY LUCKY I DON'T ACTUALLY KNOW WHERE YOU LIVE/PROBABLY COULDN'T FIND MY WAY THERE BECAUSE I WOULD ACTUALLY SIT ON YOU RN
. . . aND NOT IN THE GOOD WAY.
+6
"One moment," Ethan said spinning the axe one more time before he stopped holding it in his hands. "Can I help you? If you're looking for Brandon I have not seen him yet."
I want the K [CACKLES and crosses fingers for dementor kiss]
8. Cheek Kiss
"You're too passionate sometimes.
It's hard to know when you mean
what you say, or what you do . . .
and when you don't."
Someone told him that, once upon a time. It still didn't make sense to him, but maybe it was because he didn't realise that he was sometimes passionate about all the wrong things. Sometimes he wasn't self-aware enough. The kind of world he lived in, a guy had to measure out his actions just as much as he measured out the time 'til the next kaiju attack.
Because maybe one day, Jo might come back from a fight, while he lay face-down on the ocean floor.
Because he wouldn't let the opposite happen. He wouldn't let himself go home without her.
I've been sinking for a while.
It won't make much difference.
He cupped her face first, running the tips of his thumbs over the skin of her cheeks. Had he expected her to feel rougher? Sometimes he forgot that Jo was still human. Still quite in danger of being broken.
He loved her for it, though.
Sometimes you're too passionate.
Bullshit.
There's nothing wrong with passion.
Sometimes it comes disguised as something else.
Silently, he pressed his lips against one of her cupped cheeks -- mouth closed, but hard against where it lay. He hoped it might tell her what he sometimes failed to put into words.
For a guy who liked to speak in silver, he still didn't really know how to express in silver.
[ whispers ❖ excitedly and pushes face together ]
Send me a ❖ for my character’s personal thoughts about yours
Fucking Jo McCoy.
That's how it starts. He curses her in his head -- not out of malice, but just sheer something -- because she's kind of screwed him over a little bit. Okay, a big bit.
How big?
Big enough that he might actually like this kid. Rookie. Rookie. She's just a rookie. Younger than him. Rookie, rookie, rookie. That doesn't make too much of a difference. She's still kind of awesomely fierce and --
Something.
[On a scale of one to ten, how much do you wish you didn't get your arse handed to you by Jo McCoy in the combat room?]
Zero. It was a good fight. She deserved the win.
The other vets can laugh about it. She'd kick their arses, too.
[So what's the deal? With Jo McCoy?]
Seriously? What's the deal?
I have no clue.
But she's pretty fucking spectacular.
+4
"Yes? How might I help you?" Rhaegar had been at Summerhall again, exploring, wandering. A habit of his it would seem.
"Let's see....how can I help you?"