#ncvcrmisscs

[vovchakvolk]

For @ncvcrmisscs & @bomsplode cause I got bored and the thread already has both Vi and me on the edge of our seats. Screens source.

[punchfrst]

✚

Send My Muse Kisses | Accepting.

✚ for a kiss on a wound.

     a shiver as the feeling of warm lips press against a fresher wound. a situation all too familiar, sitting at their feet. ' this your way of tellin' me you're worried? ' a smile, albeit painful with the taste of iron on her tongue. lips purse to an almost bitter expression, though quick - resulted in the sound of vi spitting out the lingering puddle of crimson. ' plan on helpin' me up, or are we just gonna lay here? '

[bomsplode]

Continued @ncvcrmisscs​

❝ Ohhhh, you want to play? ❞ A soft smile, almost innocent, graces Jinx’s face. Just before it turns ugly, before the corners curl and her true nature comes to fruition. It shows in her oddly shaped edges, the way the gun’s held so steady despite a fractured world. ❝ I like games. ❞ Her gaze takes in the weapon that’s been pointed towards her own chest. She laughs, finding it oh so funny that their battles involve life and death.

Leans in, even, biting her lip in barely contained glee. ❝ I’ve dreamt about killing you for so long now. ❞ She says it as though it’s an ideal dream, one everyone should have. ❝ With you out of the equation, Vi will be able to love me. I know she will, she just... keeps abandoning me. For you. ❞ Jinx giggles. ❝ You, you! Can you believe it? Scum like you!? ❞ Her breath catches, eyes darkening as something bleaker comes to mind. ❝ What does she see in you? Tell me, tell me before I blow your brains out! ❞ The gun shakes, a small tremor, and she’s c r a c k i n g already beneath the gaze of an enemy.

[vovchakvolk]

​Cont’d from Here | @ncvcrmisscs

Breathing, still a little labored, hitches slightly as suddenly the distance between them disappears with one sharp tug on pants that really needed to be replaced at some point. Not really for fashion reasons, but if so because stripes really weren’t their thing. But no, the real reason is they’re uncomfortable on the best days and oh, yeah, proof of being a jailbird. Replacement is always pushed off to the side, though. Shopping is not high on the list of necessary things to do in Vi’s mind.

Being pulled so close forces Vi to crane their neck, just a bit, in order to match gray gaze with blue. A teasing, playful grin quirks at their features after looking down between them at the hold Caitlyn has on their pants. The smile twists into a smirk, slightly larger and calloused hands (and damp with sweat) dropping to rest on top of lithe ones holding them in place.

She leans in, best she can thanks to the slight height difference. “Yes? Can I... help you, Miss Kiramman?” her voice rasps just a little, words coming out breathy thanks to the work out that she honestly hadn’t fully reckoned on Cait watching (and thus showing off had not entirely happened except as a matter of cause for how much exercise she could get through). Sweat continues trailing down her face and making trails down her back, making the shirt stick to clammy skin. The smirk holds, eyes bright despite being half-covered by sweaty bangs.

[vovchakvolk]

@ncvcrmisscs liked for a random starter

Her shoulder hurt. But, honestly, what did she expect? She had landed on it. So long as it wasn't broken... maybe a torn rotator cuff. She'd had that happen more times than she could count. The pain was always the same. And so was the slight slouch of one side as it rested somewhat limply on her side. She let out a low breath-- more a hiss really-- as she shrugged out of her jacket. Oh, yeah, that was... not fun. She rolled the one shoulder experimentally and an almost yelp escaped her mouth, the pain making her legs go to jelly and force her to grab a crate nearby with her good arm. "Fuckin'--" she gasped out. She'd say that's gonna leave a mark but there was already a mark-- a nasty black and blue blob interrupting the ink there on her back. She considered her options... which weren't a lot. Usually her first option was just to tough it out. Not in a 'pain is weakness leaving the body' way but 'nobody can know this fucking stings like nobody's business'.

Steeling herself, she bunched her jacket up in her good hand and kept walking until she had nearly reached the markets. Then she slipped into a bar where she ordered the strongest possible thing.

She collapsed into a seat and sighed.

"I don't need an 'I told you so'," she muttered into her rock glass. Of course she hadn't been exactly alone.