#mcstdangerous

[consultingsister-aa]

MALE VERSE STARTER CALL // @mcstdangerous

“Hey, sorry, did I wake you? It’s just... I was going to get a McFlurry and wondered if you wanted one?” It’s 2am on a Tuesday, and he’s knocking on her door about ice cream!?

[asynjja-moved]

@mcstdangerous.

❛ &. ┊ “ Shooting’s all fun I know but I came to bring you the rune-engraved bullets you’ve ordered from my son. “ Wet hair hangs loose onto her back, towel laid upon her shoulders as she exits the bathroom in her pair of jeans. That she’s less than amused is evident, but at least all wounds on her chest she’s finished properly tending to. “ Tall, broad shouders, looks kinda Agyptian? -- next time Hamad really has to play the delivery guy himself. “

[hellsbraveknight]

CHEYANNE // @mcstdangerous

[ text:: alessia ] the real questions here are where?? and how sexy?

[ text:: alessia ] like are we talking classy or proper fuck it sleazy 

[ text:: chey I don't think I can deal with classy the mood I'm in [ text:: alessia ] but not so sleazy every slime ball is gonna hit on us. I just need whiskey and lots of it

[forgereames]

@mcstdangerous

Eames was sitting in a coffee shop, a book in hand and a cup of coffee in the other. It’s not every day he had time to take turns people watching and reading, but this was a rare occasion when he was given the chance to take a day off and relax.

Relaxing he was -- that was, until, a man in a dark jacket, seated on the other side of the coffee shop, caught his eye. 

The coffee shop was busy, bustling and moving, with customers constantly wandering in and out. This particular man, now that Eames thought of it, had been here just as long as Eames had. That wasn’t strange -- most people spent hours reading or working in coffee shops -- but what was strange was the fact that the man had spent almost his entire time here staring at a particular blonde young woman seated a few tables down from Eames.

Now that Eames was really taking the time to pay attention, glancing stealthily over the top of his book, a nervous feeling started to settle in the pit of his stomach.

He shouldn’t have worried about it -- today was his day to relax, he reminded himself -- but something about the situation made him feel as if he should step in. Ever so casually, Eames closed his book, rose from his table, and wandered to the table the blonde woman was seated at.

Casually, he slipped into the seat across from her, his eyes glancing subtly over her shoulder at the suspicious man, then coming to land on her face.

“I’m not sure if you’re aware of it,” he said lowly, putting on a convincingly friendly smile, despite it being wholly fake, “but there’s a man in the corner who’s been watching you since you walked in.” 

What was the worst thing that could come of this? She’d tell him to fuck off? At the very least he was helping her; his one hope was that he wasn’t somehow getting sucked into something way over his head. Knowing his luck, he probably was, but what was life without a little risk?

[xthebroken]

[ ☠ ] ------ Enzo double checked the piece of paper that was in his pocket that had an address scrawled on it, making sure he was at the right place. He was meeting with a woman named Cheyanne, that much he knew, but Moriarty hadn’t given him much information passed that. He was being sent on a job, but Cheyanne was going to fill him in on everything once they were on the road. 

          He was to protect her, as this was apparently a perilous job, one that might need a little vampiric healing if she were to get hurt. Enzo hated that he’d been reduced to a bloody nurse maid, but if this was what he had to go through to get to where he wanted to be, then so be it. He had to earn Moriarty’s trust, and he was going to make sure Moriarty’s most trusted gave him a glowing review.

                    He raised a hand and gave three sharp knocks to the door, waiting for the woman to open up, invite him in and tell him what this job was going to entail.

[agenttrevor]

@mcstdangerous liked for a starter !

    A familiar face was the last thing Victor expected to see tonight, even one as vaguely familiar as hers. It was more than enough to draw him to her just now; considering the night he’d already had, even slight familiarity felt like a beacon of friendliness.

    Hell, considering the night he’d had so far, it was a miracle he’d made it this far. The protective way his arm wrapped across his front was testimony to that, the dark colour of his jacket hiding something more serious than he was keen to admit. Then again-- it wasn’t like he had an awful lot of choice, if he wanted to keep from getting himself even more fucked than he already was. First things first, though.

    Victor fell into step beside her, tone deliberately soft as he spoke-- partly to avoid startling her, partly from the insidious nature of blood-stained exhaustion.  “Important question: d’you have a car?”

[gunmetalgrxy]

@mcstdangerous​​ from here for reasons v; ⋱ got you in my sights ⋰ ⦙ |*| ( sniper for hire )

   “ Yeah -- well you had me worried. Next time, try and text. Just a little freaky when you’re a gone nearly a week...”

She sounded like a paranoid mum, but for a while now... Chey was the little family she had. It was hard not to be defensive. She leant against the doorframe, a little teasing now that she didn’t need to worry.

    “ You missed me making pancakes. By making, I mean burning completely. Basically turning them into coal. I’ve lit all the candles we have, hopefully it’ll be gone eventually.”

Giving Chey another glance, she could tell it was a long couple of days. She’d been there so many times. She needed food and a rinse, at least to start with.

    “ Shower and take-away?”

[thesecondmost]

☠️ || STARTER CALL;; // @mcstdangerous

     Jim could be as cruel as he could be kind. Where some days he handed Moran intricate hits on a silver platter, other days he pulled THIS sort of shit. This shit being hiring the two top gunners in the area to go after the same hit. The kicker? To not tell either.

     His pistol raised, the man was walking tension. “Who are you?” because, perhaps, he knew her by name--by word of mouth. But faces? There wasn’t one committed to memory. He’d have every intention to shoot if the woman made a wrong move. But, time was of the essence and he couldn’t risk bringing the whole operation down now by detouring to take down this newcomer.