#ferrumwulf

[lemuriangod]

" i know a spot " it's a swamp or something

𝘼 𝙁𝙞𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙚 𝙎𝙬𝙞𝙢𝙨 𝙄𝙣 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙎𝙚𝙖 ... ᵗᵒ ᶠⁱⁿᵈ ᵃ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ᵐᵉ ... @ferrumwulf!

no one wants to smell wet dog around here. shoo shoo!

[songtranscends]

@ferrumwulf asked : ❝ i have walked through centuries and never found forgiveness. ❞ — selene - GREEK MYTHOLOGY (ACCEPTING)

The compulsion to flee is physical - pinpricks beneath the skin, the distinct needle of a sightline like a pulse of cool electricity weaving into her spine, the hum of blood in her ears as the air thins - ancient music set to an ancient dance, the invisible thread between PREY AND PREDATOR connecting - now drawn tight enough to snap.

Tight enough to remain, for the moment - STILL AND OPEN. Close enough that in the moonlight he can see the gleam of her throat. Close enough that he might draw blood, if he wished to.

Her breath is shallow. She admits, looking back into the golden eyes fixed on her, "...I have never found it either."

Centuries ago, the temple CRUMBLED. She has seen it since - salt roughed stone and rotted paper and clean, yellowed bones - half sunken into the sea, as impermanent as anything made with human hands, even ones carrying the will of gods. Silent now, and not as she last remembered.

Centuries ago, the girl ran, and he must have chased. Every step further from where she had been kept, from where her fate was supposed to take her - but with every step she dreamed and realized more destruction, more death, more carnage.

Now - centuries later, she is still running. He is still chasing. Like two lost children, or like machinery left running too long with nothing but preliminary instructions.

"...You've caught me," She said, finally, a moment later. "...Did you think about what happens next?"

[cresenshi]

* ˖ ·ﾟ do you have a death wish or something? ╱ @ferrumwulf ❣

Minako groaned softly, her hand on her head as she looked up towards the voice. " What? No I wasn't planning on dying." Minako got to her feet slowly, making sure she didn't fall over. ' I didn't expect them to be strong like that, I'm okay though thanks for asking.'

[iinfausta]

“people like us don’t get happy endings.”

more random sentence starters.

@ferrumwulf

The words hit far too close to home, a rush down her spine that left goosebumps in its wake. It made her feel vulnerable in a way she hadn't quite felt until now, like he had reached into her very soul and pulled the words out himself.

It did feel like there was some sort of cosmic irony at play, them meeting like this. Kairos hardly knew who he was and vice versa. But even then there was this... pull, this tugging in her chest. It was all too warm and strikingly unfamiliar and a part of it scared her.

But not because of him. He hasn't scared her at all.

It was the uncertainty of Valko as a whole, the fact that Kairos had no memories of him except for perhaps a few glimpses of something deep in her subconscious. Her head ached and her body shuddered like it was fighting back against her trying to dredge the memories up.

"I think I learned that lesson a long time ago." She admitted with a soft, almost self-deprecating chuckle. "It's not too bad once you get used to the idea," Kairos hummed, despite the sadness lacing the words.

"Heartbreak is easier to deal with when you accept it."

[neuroslayyer]

do you want me to stay? it doesn't have to mean anything.

@ferrumwulf

Do you want me to stay? That's a good question. The smart answer would probably to just tell him to take a hike and not let the door hit him where the nonexistent gods split him. Because if he does stay, it'll feed more into the attachment she's always had to him. A bond that no matter what, has never shattered; even if maybe it should have been severed.

He had come in a flash after she had called complaining about feeling ill. He had helped pull her out of the shower, given her a full diagnostic check up including her heart because she insisted that's where the hub of agony was. The results after an assortment of poking, prodding and scanning conclude nothing is physically wrong, save for a hit of an illicit substance and shots of tequila in her system. All of that she already knew however. The disease that's eaten away at her is emotional and mental; an overwhelming plague of melancholia complete with several variations of guilt with a touch of loneliness.

"When has anything between me and you ever had a deeper meaning?" It's a barbed jab, sharp as the metal blades beneath the synth skin of her arms. Yet at the barest movement he makes, she panics. Arms shoot out to wrap around his bulky frame, squeezing with all the inhuman strength possible to anchor him in his current standing spot infront of her while she remains leaning against the bathroom counter. "I was kidding! Don't go."

Face is promptly buried in his abdomen. His scent, natural earthy musk with a hint of expensive cologne, is a contrast to the burned incense of her rundown, cramped apartment. In a cat like manner affectionately she rubs her cheek against him. "You can't leave while I feel sick." To punctuate her rather manipulative plea, acrylic claws dig into fabric on his clothes. "I'm sure there's something you can do to make me better."

[neuroslayyer]

what are you getting out of this, exactly?

@ferrumwulf

It's certainly not money nor street cred, that's for sure. Both of which she can obtain a bounty of without him, thank you very much. So that leaves one thing. "The same thing you're getting out of it. Entertainment. Duh." The answer is simple, said with a scoff as she glances her shoulder at him (making sure he sees her rolling her eyes) while still bent over — back arched in a very deliberate and obviously sensual way; highly unnecessary and unprofessional. The rapid fire movement of fingers hitting keys comes to a halt. Everything she's caught a glimpse of saved for review later. "Maybe a favor in a pinch. And of course a nice system tune-up." Personal link is disconnected so she can turn to fully face him.

Not before mostly clearing a comfy space for herself upon the top of his workspace. Data pad and papers haphazardly pushed to the side, documents now mixed up. Pens rolling onto the floor. The metal is cold against her thighs as the already short skirt rides up more with her new seating arrangement. "Why else would either of us do this?" This meaning their whole casual dynamic — casual in her eyes at least.

There's no reason beyond the superficial to get in bed (metaphorically and literally) with any corpo dog. Purely transactional. But the same could be said for the reverse. Why does he need a street rat like her when he's got so many options in his Ivory Tower.

"I guess logically I should ask you the same question. Just so we're both on the same page." One of her dangling feet is lifted up and not-so delicately placed between his muscular legs. Their eyes locked into an unspoken bid for dominance. "So what the fuck do you get out of this? Out of me?"