#masterwcrk

[potestmagice]

@masterwcrk asked: 002, a hospital waiting room at 3 in the morning. (Constantine)

John Constantine sat in the hospital waiting room. His tired eyes fixed on the flickering fluorescent lights on the ceiling above him. It was 3 in the morning, and he had been there for hours, as he waited anxiously for any news about the condition of his close friend, Chas Chandler. Chas had been in a car accident earlier that night, and his injuries were severe. The doctors were doing everything they could, but the outcome was uncertain.

John rubbed his temples as he tried to alleviate the headache that had been gnawing at him. He glanced around the room. The pale green walls seemed to reflect his sombre mood. The other occupants were few and far between and seemed to be lost in their own silent worries. But then, his gaze fell upon a young woman sitting a few seats away. Her fiery red hair seemed to always catch his attention.

[rubycaped]

@masterwcrk asked: take it easy, you blacked out. (casually getting yeeted right into the art studio, maybe?)

ears rang at a low frequency, her vision slightly blurred. the dull pain in her lower back and the headache filled the gap in her memory between incident and regaining consciousness. her first instinct was to check her cowl, to make sure her identity was not compromised - cracked around the left eye, nothing serious.

" how long? " she started, " how long was I out? "

[bastxrdsisgone]

"Uh, I think now might be a good time to run."

Even though they'd been told that the artefact was relatively easy to get to, what they hadn't been told was the amount of security in the building. He'd thought it would be a simple in and out assignment, grabbing the artefact and getting back to the warehouse. Up to that point things had been going relatively smoothly. Maybe a bit too smoothly. He should've known that something was bound to happen. But between him and Clary he thought they could handle whatever trouble they stumbled upon. Oh how wrong he was and now Poe would have a lot of explaining to do. Once they were out of the damn building. Neither of them had time for him to explain things with security looking for him. At least they didn't know about Clary. If they had to go back in she might be their only shot. "No one mentioned the amount of security and I may have accidentally tripped something. Plus side for now the artefact looks safe."

@masterwcrk

[hellceo]

starter call !

" RIGHT, " Crowley says, tapping the thick stack of papers neatly upon the tabletop, slipping them into a briefcase. Contracts all, dated and signed; they wisp into nothing as they're stowed. " And how, my dear, did you track down me? I, " and hazel eyes flick upward, sharp and keen, catching @masterwcrk's own, " am merely a business man. You are barking up a tree that may as well be in another forest, darling. "

[atv-migrated]

@masterwcrk sent you must pardon me, if I regard any interruption in your correspondence as a proof that your other duties are equally neglected. (Margaery LOL, but teasingly. her GOT verse, if you please)

margaery had thoroughly enjoyed communicating with her clary through their little notes. no ravens were needed as the letters need only pass through her hands, and sometimes the hands of one of her other ladies in order to reach clary. often they contained short things she wished to talk to her about later. she chuckled, "i suppose i have gotten a bit busier than i was when we began this little endeavor." the queen had taken her comment to mean that she might let some of her other duties slip due to how many things she was now juggling. "i'll do my best to keep up with our correspondence. you don't have to worry, i'll be sure to keep you informed."

[ofthclight]

they watch padmé from a distance, as is protocol when the senate is less crowded and the senator requests a bit more privacy when she discusses politics. but dormé isn’t fond of it. the attack is still fresh, she can still smell the burning rubble of the explosion. cordé’s death still tears through her with every breath. quiet as she is, dormé takes a step or two closer to stand next to clary, exhaling softly and pondering a moment before she speaks, her voice soft enough only to be heard by her sister beside her.  ❝ i don’t like him. ❞  the senator that padmé is conversing with is young and handsome and well liked --- he also happens to be a notorious flirt, and he’s touched padmé’s arm no less than four times in the past few moments.           /          @masterwcrk​   +   i love.

[barrelcrow]

@masterwcrk said: ““ if you’re knocking on my door, i can only imagine it means you’re here to collect. and by your demeanour, it’s one hell of a favor you’ll be asking, too. ” “ {♠️ x Shadow & Bone inspired Prompts ||  accepting x}

Once upon a time — not too long ago, in fact — someone appearing on Dirtyhands' doorstep looking for help would've been turned away with very few nice words. Well... Most still did. Neither he, nor the Dregs, were a charity, after all.

However, Kaz Brekker had developed a bit of a soft spot for certain situations. Like a young girl that had been beaten black and blue, because she had the nerve to cry just a little too much. His grip, then, had tightened around the head of his cane, but it wasn't until she let slip the place of her employment that he decided to get her out of this city: the Menagerie.

That place held a very special spot in Kaz's heart, and the fact it had managed to recover from its financial struggle had been a thorn in his side ever since. But there'd been bigger fish to fry, and more important things to focus on.

Today, however, that would change.

That's how he found himself on Clary's doorstep. He'd employed her in the past, and her work had never failed him before. But that wasn't the only reason he'd chosen her. "You're right. I need some forged papers for a girl to get her on a boat and back to her family." Taking a step closer, Kaz narrowed his eyes in determination, both hands clutching the top of his cane. "And I want to take down the Menagerie. Once and for all."

[duraskrial]

david wondered, briefly, if he 'had a thing for red heads.' He'd heard the term before, while he'd been scuttling along the halls of the Little Palace. Mostly in the context of female gossip. But as Clary cooed to him, vibrant smile on her lips, he couldn't help but think her beautiful.

what was his rush? His rush was that the General was waiting on the disks he was crafting for the Sun Summoner and the General did not appreciate tardiness. Even if the Grisha were taking a moment to revel in one of their beloved holidays.

"I do not know rest," David replied. "My work is never finished." Which was an understatement. The Fabrikator was always working on the next invention.

@masterwcrk said: what’s your rush ?  you’re missing all the flowers .