May 15, 2017
ander
@andrrblue
a. artificial nocturne // metric n. neptune // sleeping at last d. da hustle (original mix) // metador e. enter the void // viktoria rebeka r. ryder or riot // ken ashcorp
seen from Indonesia
seen from Bosnia & Herzegovina
seen from Hong Kong SAR China
seen from China
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from Iraq
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from Jamaica
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from Poland
seen from Netherlands
seen from United States
ander
@andrrblue
a. artificial nocturne // metric n. neptune // sleeping at last d. da hustle (original mix) // metador e. enter the void // viktoria rebeka r. ryder or riot // ken ashcorp
☏ ft. ander
SEND ME A SYMBOL FOR ANGST; ACCEPTING
☏: my muse’s reaction to getting a phone call from the hospital about your muse
Giles pushed the door out of the cafe open with his shoulder, pressing the lid onto his take out coffee as he walked onto the busy street. His phone began playing the default ringtone-- automatically signalling this isn’t someone he knew, therefore probably important. Pulling his glove off with his teeth, Giles rummaged around his pockets for the phone answering it with a muffled hello, before realising that wasn’t translatable, and rested his phone against his shoulder so he could remove his glove from his mouth.
“Uhh yeah!” He chirped into the phone, picking it back up from his shoulder. There was a question on who was speaking, asking if they had a Giles Morales. “Mhmm, that’s me. What’s this about?” He asked as he began to walk down the sidewalk, taking a sip of coffee. His attention was grabbed by the formal tone, glancing at the pedestrian traffic, he weaved to the side.
When the words Ander Maximoff and Hospital were uttered, Giles stopped, waiting for further explanation. When the exact wording ticked over in his brain, his hand went slack, mouth falling open to utter a pathetic sound, his coffee crashing to the ground, complaints from others around him when hot coffee splashed up at them.
“Uh-- y-yeah, I’m still here. I’m-I’m going to be--” his voice broke, throat constricting as he couldn’t force anymore words out. His hand holding the phone quivered, pulling away from his ear, pushing back up, back and forth as he glanced around trying to process this. Then, he ended the call without further talking from him, shoving it into his pocket and setting off running.
He wished he had his web shooters, he wished he had a suit, he wished he had more than five dollars to catch a cab with-- why was the one with super speed in hospital?!? He could use his power now, dammit.
@andrrblue