#livedtough

[mlle-christine-daae]

@livedtough

The last time she'd felt this numb had been the day that her father was buried in Perros-Guirec. That morning had been dreary with a biting cold wind that rolled off the water. Dear Mamma Valérius had stood by her side, shivering despite her many layers, as Gustave Daaé's remains were lowered into the damp earth. It could have hailed that morning, and Christine would not have even registered the balls of ice pelting her; her grief was all-encompassing.

Now, three years later, the yawning chasm of grief threatened once more. Instead of mourning for her dear father, she now mourned for the life she would've led with her dear Raoul. She'd allowed herself to believe, during their brief engagement, that a life together was truly possible. Yet...

Christine's eyes were drawn to a few droplets of water that had escaped notice, evidence of the drenched state of the two men who had been rescued from the torture chamber that night. She shuddered before averting her eyes to her hands nestled in her lap, resting among the silk and lace of the wedding dress that she wore.

She might have sacrificed her dreams, but her sacrifice had been worth it; lives were saved because of her.

Christine registered the sound of the front door opening and closing, but the noise wasn't enough to pique her interest. It wasn't until she saw the tips of two shoes standing before her that she finally raised her eyes to gaze up at the focus of her dreams and nightmares of the past months.

"They're safe?" she asked, voice cracking from the tumultuous emotions of the evening.

[chasingtitans]

True to his word, ever since that sunny afternoon under his father's grave, Anthony had remained present in Keiko's life. Helpful. Downright amicable, even, the majority of the time. It's all a bizarre adjustment for Keiko, to say the least; less so for his new demeanor in itself, and more for how completely it shifted everything she'd once thought she understood about the Bridgerton household's head nearly overnight.

Today, however, is the first day that shift is truly put to the test. It's already been a long day of poring over matters of the Miura estate together - matters that she did have to remind Anthony more than once to show her, not settle for her - but, to his credit, he did concede to her every time. Still, long enough has been spent sifting through the affairs Kentaro had left behind that, for the first time since this new arrangement began, Anthony would be staying for a meal through it.

All but Keiko's most trusted staff had already been given the day off beforehand, if only to give them both some actual semblance of privacy. Therefore, the decision to eat downstairs today had been made more out of convenience than anything else - but Keiko would be lying if she said she isn't looking forward to seeing the look on Anthony's face all the same. How likely is it, after all, that the man who grew up Bridgerton heir had ever cooked for himself, never mind eaten where his servants did before?

It doesn't take long to make their way downstairs. It's quiet here today in a way that reminds her of years long past, another life left behind halfway across the world. The sight of her mother alone in the kitchen, save for one maid, nearly makes Keiko feel like a little girl again; it would have succeeded in it, in fact, if not for the sight of her own little boy, parked in a high chair by the servants' table as her mother sets two places on it.

Before Keiko can say a word to any of them, Hiroshi reaches out for her with chubby hands, a babbled stream of Mamamamama greeting her first. She doesn't think he truly understands what he's saying, not yet, but the sound still settles warmly in her chest all the same. Warm enough that it's with an uncharacteristically easy grin and a murmured greeting, low enough for only her son to hear, that Keiko pulls him out of the high chair and into her arms.

Only once she's certain that Hiroshi is secure in her hold, and the rest of their company has been greeted as well, does Keiko turn her attention back to their guest. And, ah - there it is. She can't hold back a chuckle at the look on Anthony's face; never before has she seen the Viscount rendered so dumfounded by a matter so simple. "What? Don't tell me you've never set foot in a kitchen before." // @livedtough + plotted starter!

[killedllove]

𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐝 as she let out a heavy sigh of frustration before raising her fist to knock on Matthew's study. It was well past any decent time to retire to bed, and yet Mary's room remained solitary. It was not that Mary was unaware of the importance of the work for the estate, it was the fact it kept her husband at arms length more often than she wished. However, if she was feeling particularly honest, a deep part of herself couldn't help but envy the sense of purpose it seemed to give him that she desired for herself. That was not a new feeling, however, and the more pressing matter was Matthew undoubtedly working himself into a state. With a bit more authority, Mary gave another knock as merely a courtesy as she opened and slid inside. " You really shouldn't hunch over like that, our nanny warned we would get stuck if left in that way for too long. " ( @livedtough )

[noblehcart]

@livedtough sc. erik & rook

"my husband has sung your praises, monsieur." she makes the effort in the little bit of French she knows. there had been a french missionary in the town she had grown up in. kind people, who taught her a bit of their language though her fluency was clumsy at best.

however, greeting a guest was something she was quite familiar with.

her hands clasped at her waist as she offered a slight bow, eyes lifting to find his eyes beneath the mask. nadir's first stop had been home before taking the famed magician to the palace after being away for so long. to see their son. to see her. and in the few moments they had together he had recounted in quick summation the dangers and perils the faced.

"i believe i owe you many thanks for returning my husband home safe. my household and i are in your debt."

[missmargomuse616]

starter for @livedtough ( bucky barnes )

Margo was looking around making sure she wasn't being followed. After the events that happened with the flag smashers, John Walker, and having a new captain America in Sam Wilson the media was all going crazy over what went down these past few months. While knowing bits in peices of the story during the battles, Margo wanted to know more about the inside scoop. The world has changed forever since the blip and fortunately or unfortunately, she wasn't part of the people who vanished for five years. Her step mother, her friends and other people she knew were, those were scary times, the impact still haunts her till this day.

After driving to an unknown area she parked her car, grabbed her purse and her documents that are in there. She checked to make sure she had her pepper spray, just in case. It was 3:45 PM in the afternoon so hopefully by agreeing to coming out here in broad daylight was a best option. Which honestly coming here at all was not the best idea in the first place yet here she was. Yesterday she received a mysterious text message on her cellphone asking to meet her at a sercert location, with a document about the information on a man called zemo. The name sounded vaguely familiar but she didn't know who that was.

Leaving her vehicle she walked toward the abandoned warehouse, once again looking around to see when this person will show up, feeling anxious yet so very curious.

[imjustanauthor]

@livedtough @ Sebastian

Since returning to work, a large part of Charlie's job had become chasing loose ends in the hope that he could discover something - anything - new. As grateful as he was to have his job back, being restricted to cold cases was far from the career he had been aiming for, and he was already keen to get back on track. That wasn't a problem, though. All he needed was one big break, right? He just needed to crack one big case, and then everybody would realise that he was still as capable as he'd ever been.

Considering that, it was easily to see why he'd been gravitating towards the bigger cold cases. Charlie could justify it to his superiors as the more victims there were, the more likely it was that he could find remaining evidence, but the reality was that he was hoping to solve as big a case as possible. He couldn't tell anybody this, of course. Even if they didn't think it selfish, they may start questioning his work - deciding it was shoddily done with weak connections made in the name of trying to make a name for himself again. That wasn't the case, though. Charlie had been linking together a series of missing persons cases under the assumption they were actually homicides, and he was damn sure that he was onto something!

However, as convinced as he was about his work, he couldn't deny that he had hit a dead end - or, that was, he had thought he had. Just as he'd been about to take a break and focus on something else, Charlie had thought to check online for any other potential cases that matched with his own. The True Crime community was both a blessing and a curse, getting in the way of a lot of real detective work, but also bringing to light a lot of information that would have previously gone ignored, and to cut a long story short, after finding what he thought to be some links in the US, he'd managed to track down the details of a private detective that had been involved.

It was a stroke of luck, really, that the man had moved to the UK. It could have been a coincidence too far, and Charlie wasn't about to rule out the possibility that perhaps the move had been connected to the disappearances. The move was recent, unlikely the UK cases, but what if he'd had a partner? What if... Well, there were a lot of what ifs, weren't there? And for now, Charlie was willing to give the man the benefit of the doubt.

Having found an address for the guy's new office, he decided to pay him a visit. Best to ask him any questions in person, right? Charlie politely knocked on the door before promptly deciding to just go in.

"Hey," he asked, "are you Sebastian Mendoza? I'm hoping to ask him some questions." As if it explained anything, he took out his police ID and showed it.

[dynastymuses]

@livedtough liked this post for a starter from tim laughlin

❝oh i'm so sorry!❞ tim said quickly ❝have i taken your favorite spot? i'm still new around here. i don't mean to overstep❞ tim was gathering his stuff

[templeofvengeance]

Starter for @livedtough (Jake)

Marc was special. Khonshu knew that from the moment they met, that poor, sad, bleeding thing crawling up the steps beneath his statue. From the moment he'd reached out, peering into this offering and finding nothing but jagged edges. Fractured. Broken. Mentally, wonderfully, in all the best ways-- he could use this one. And so soon after Harrow, too! It was such a gift.

Mercenary. Soldier. Exceptional at what he did, the hurt he could lay on those who deserved it, and willing to say yes to a disembodied voice asking if he'd like to protect people. None of that made Marc special. Indeed, he was the latest in a long line of such warriors, who had taken Khonshu's deal to protect the travelers of the night. But Khonshu never had an Avatar like this before. Because he wasn't an Avatar. He was multiple.

Three. (Or so Khonshu could sense, most prominently. New splits could always occur.) The god hadn't felt the need to ask on it, nor did Marc, and that was fine. It was really only a matter of time before he got to meet the others, and Khonshu could decide then if they were as worthy of power and purpose as Marc.

It took a few months, then happened suddenly.

It was, broadly, a standard job-- a 'while you're in the area' thing tacked onto the end of tonight's main mission. Just a group of muggers that had been terrorizing the area. Should've been no trouble for Marc, even if he'd already worked hard tonight-- and it wasn't. Knives dodged, guns smacked out of hands, would-be mugging-victim scrambling away to safety in the chaos. All business-as-usual, until a huge guy seemed to jump into the fray out of nowhere while Marc had his back turned, slamming him head-first into the side of a dumpster.

Maybe that blow was enough to knock Marc out. Maybe someone else had 'knocked Marc out' from within.

Either way, it was only another minute before there was only one man left standing. Just like that. The fighting style had changed. In some ways, Khonshu just knew.

"Ohohoho... Well, isn't this interesting? Good work, my Knight." Khonshu chuckled. His silhouette was perched on a rooftop across the street, but his voice always sounded like he was right next to his Avatar. Hmm. Had this alter been watching, these past few months? Did he know who Khonshu was? He supposed he'd tell from the way he reacted to his voice.