#morganxpendleton

[normandyxo-archive-blog]

Accents!

4/10

[normandyxo-archive-blog]

ϟ xoxo

10.

"Have you ever been in love?"

[by-the-strictures]

I mean, I don't wanna get any stds from that hottie.

Omg nah! He is not Morgan or Campbell after all! *trollface*

Besides he hasn't any because he is a sad virgin

[religiousshitbaby]

✢ !

A happy memory

When he was assigned his wolfhound. (who i need to write about sometime) 

The hound was a runt, and would otherwise have been put down. Seeing that one of its front paws was deformed was almost the final nail in the beast's coffin, if Carl hadn't managed to convince the hounds keeper to give it to him. No one else believed it would survive long anyways, and the runt seemed to compliment Carl's nature. 

Surprisingly, the pup lived and thrived under Carl's care. The boy spent a large portion of the limited free time he had to read up on healthcare, nutrition, and general information on wolfhounds so that he'd know how best care for it. Thought It's no longer a runt, the paw never formed the right way and is more of stump then anything. Hence the name Nubbins.

The moment Carl realized Nubbins was going to survive  he was happy not just for the sake of the animal, but because he managed to do something right. 

[normandyxo-archive-blog]

♚ (◕‿◕✿)

[ALFLSF UPSET. THANK YOU OMG ;n;]

[thedishonored]

After the Flood

The Pendleton twins are much more dangerous together. That fact has been made clear to Corvo, by the Loyalists and his own experience both. Even tongueless, mute, maimed by Slackjaw and a hard life in their own mines, Corvo still suspects that it will prove difficult to extract any information from the twins when they can use their strange fraternal bond to bolster each other. So he isolates them. Let them know what is is to be truly alone.

The chambers of the Royal Executioner have gone unused since the position was eliminated, at Lord Attano's own request. Now, the dungeon has been touched up slightly, chains and bodies removed, the shrine to the Outsider gathered up in secret and destroyed. The smell of burnt flesh, human filth, and death still lingers. They are scents very familiar to the Royal Protector. By now, they should be branded into Morgan Pendleton's mind as well.

He sits in his navy blue coat, the rich fabric and gold braid striking a sharp contrast to the utilitarian chair he languishes in, the worn and tortured floor on which his boots rest. His hands are linked at the fingers as he waits for the man across from him to wake. The toxin in the sleep darts he used was potent; it was essential to keep the brothers subdued during the trip from the mines. Morgan should be stirring now, though, at any moment, only to find himself tethered to his seat by the arms and legs.

Corvo hopes that, in his captive's eyes, once they open, he will glimpse the reasoning behind all this treachery. His own face is bare of its mask, clad in nothing but a grim frown and a hundred new creases on his forehead, at his mouth, the corners of his eyes. At least Morgan Pendleton knows what it is to be so worn, so tired, so abused. Somehow, Corvo doubts that his short-lived taste of justice will make this process any easier.