#leftaremybcnes

[hierichc]

@leftaremybcnes​

He was just about to take flight when he sees McCoy making his way down the pathway that connects to his home. Around Romanus home, it’s rather spacious and one of the main reasons why he chose this lot to place his home. Romanus can easily move around in this form as he so pleases. He lowers himself back onto the ground and doesn’t move. Instead, he speaks. Not loud, but still being able to be heard (Do to his size), “Hey, Bones.” Has...McCoy ever seen him like this before though? Would he recognize the much deeper voice. The kind that travels through the ground and through  someone’s bones when he spoke?

It definitely was a stark contrast to his soft, but lively one.

[fcxrcin]

@leftaremybcnes​

She’s thinking long and hard. She’s been at this since the beginning of the year, and she just has a long list of what seems to be goals. Shouldn’t this be enough? Maybe for some people, but not for Hansol. Hansol is very goal driven and that means she needs as much for her new year resolution to keep her going. 

“Mmmm, what elseee?” It looks like she has just about everything she wants done written on paper. WHAT more could she want to better?

[anglerfishnabe]

@leftaremybcnes​

“ So... Let me recount. A concussion, some broken ribs and dislocated ankle? “

It had taken a while for him to figure out his whereabouts. Hospital was an obvious one but with his mind still fuddled and blurry. The incident is over but his injuries are yet to be healed properly. 

“ Not too bad then?  “ he laughs. He can say he’s gone through worse.

“ Can I leave tomorrow?  “

It’s going to be a pain climbing up to his house though.

[miraclesurgeon]

“ ah, so you’re a doctor? ” 

— black jack knew he really, really didn’t look the part of a typical doctor - not on a normal day, of course, but especially not now that he’d  gone full, well, gothic vampire. 

still, it was nice to hear about someone a profession so... grounded, compared to most everyone else he’d met so far. ( and a profession he knew so well, too! ) perhaps this would give them something to talk about - he didn’t know much about things that weren’t medical. it’d be nice to know what the hell he was getting at for once.

“ tell me, do you find many opportunities for work, here? ” 

@leftaremybcnes // event starter call

[gempathic]

@leftaremybcnes​ 

On the third night, Steven hurt himself.

Steven was alone. He’d chased every person or stray animal that had once lived vibrantly in this neighborhood. Now the only occupant was a monster. Without anyone to help him, Steven slipped closer to rage as his only outlet.

Stomping rippled the concrete and overturned the cars in a storm of crashing metal and Steven roared as glass found his paw.

The rubble-filled streets were at least un-patrolled for a while as Steven hunkered down in the space between two buildings where he’d made a makeshift den.

Corruption did strange things to his powers. Steven had pulled the glass out with his teeth and now his tongue steadily licked what should be healing saliva over the wound, but despite the usual magic sparkles, he still bled.

He lifted his head suddenly at a sound, his monster hearing picking up on footsteps crunching over glass. Steven growled low, preparing to stand and roaring at the pain.

Still, human company did strange things to his mental state. He both craved it and didn’t deserve it, so it was best to just chase them away before his rage hurt them next time.

Holding his injured paw up, Steven stepped out into the street and roared in the direction of human scent.

[bulletrein]

        HE DIDN'T CHANGE, AND NOR WAS he aware of the changes that have undergone the rest of the city. too new, fresh meat some would say, unaware of the misery and GAMES the stars placed their citizens in. if anything, it is an utterly benign day, an event that BEGAN with a completely normal morning and drew into an equally mundane afternoon. the sky has turned the colour of orange sherbet, bathing the city in a dusty gold light, shadows waning as soon darkness would overtake. a sigh, door creaking open — —

for as normal the city seems to be, his heart still ACHES. loss is harder to swallow when you're not busy, and as much as he'd love to punch rufus shinra over and over in the face, it wouldn't do him ANY favours. shoulders shift, he takes his seat, fingers toying with the empty glass which once held a GENEROUS shot of whisky. he still adheres to his limits, but finds himself thinking -- dreading -- what if it becomes TOO MUCH?

too much, like the drunken man sitting at his shoulder.

❝shit, man, can you even get yourself HOME lookin' like that?❞

@leftaremybcnes liked for a starter.

[restitutiopax]

leftaremybcnes replied to your post “    “Can you believe humans eat honeycomb? Like, the actual waxy comb....”

"You'll be surprise we eat more than just honeycombs...."

    “... bees?”

“Do you eat bees?”

[estdevium]

          [    ⤜    injury / hurt prompts    !!    *:･ﾟ✧     ]

@leftaremybcnes​​    ╱     “ stop being such a baby and let me finish cleaning you up. ”

a snarl caught in the back of his throat    (    never, really, had dean been a good patient. it had been years since he was found flinching at wounds; grabbing something to drink rather than down some, rather useless, painkillers with a grimace    )    at the other’s rather off putting attention to detail. a life running on "just enough to survive" medical attention would do that for you    —    the hunter wasn't sure how he felt under a doctor’s scrutiny    (    on principal he would prefer to avoid them, truly    ).    if left to his own devices there would have been no second input, the blood staining his shirt nothing new    (    less    &    less it began to matter under the thrall of bloodlust, anyway    )    &    completely unconcerning to someone who can’t die. the last dredges of the marks enhanced healing barely worth noting    (    almost purposeful in its slow crawl to life. death    ?    a mocking thing    ).    but in the end the gash across his arm a nasty piece of work; half shredded flesh in jagged pieces, originally barely visible under the mess of blood    (    his    ?    or someone else’s    ?    both, dean hardly cared    )    &    if he bothered to look maybe even a glimpse of bone.     ❝     baby my ass you're sticking your whole fucking hand in there. hurry the fuck up I am not exactly looking for a pristine job.     ❞     pounding headache a fight to ignore    —    the call for more as fingers drifted across the wound again. it was going to be a long night.