#notjustbanshee

[southern-belle-outcasts]

"when was the last time you slept?" (Sean and Rogue)

@notjustbanshee

Rogue’s head jerked up at the words, green eyes bleary. It was the middle of the day but she was hardly what qualified as away. She pretended to be studying the toe of her boot, which would need to be replaced soon given how much of a beating they’d taken, or more accurately dished out, lately.

“Huh? Oh…uh…Ah guess…day before yesterday. Not less ya count closin’ mah eyes briefly on the jet, but what ya gonna do? Shit don’t seem t’slow down,” she said with a wry laugh, shrugging her shoulder. Between the insomnia and hectic instability of being on the main team, sleep was elusive of late.

[onceheroeslogic]

@notjustbanshee sent “you can’t be here.” (Kelson)

alice sat in the grass, her SHIELD jacket resting on the ground next to her. she was off duty, and they were set to leave in the morning. right now though, she was trying to take some time to herself and sketch the beautiful landscape. whenever she was here, she could see why her mother had loved it here so much and wanted to bring her to see it. they hadn't gotten that chance together, but she still felt connected to her. she looked into the edges of the forrest, the shadows enticing her, but not enough to draw her in. she was a city girl through and through. she had enough survival instinct to distrust the woods though. she started to stand as someone emerged from the darkness, his voice deep. "hey, i didn't know this was anyone's land. i'm sorry." she didn't want to step on anyone's toes. genuinely, she wasn't looking for any trouble.

[normaltothemax]

Protector/Protectee “you’re going to get yourself hurt.” (Max and Sean)

“I’m fine.” Grunted as she continues whaling on a punching bag, not seeming like she plans on stopping any time soon. Max has already been going at it for a while, now. She really should stop, take a break, take a breather, get some water—she doesn’t. Instead, she’s taking her hellish week out on this poor, innocent punching bag, and the longer she goes for, the more her form slips.

Hurting herself is an inevitability, at this point.

But she already knows that, and she doesn’t need some guy thinking he knows better than her coming in here and sticking his nose in where it doesn’t belong. She doesn’t need ‘how to properly use a punching bag’ mansplained to her by some jackass just because she doesn’t have a dick. Fuck him, fuck this…fuck everything, honestly.

Her next hit is hard enough, sloppy enough, that she thinks she might actually feel something crack. She’s quick to pull her hand away with a curse—”Motherfucker!”—and shake it out, before holding it to her chest. The man is shot a dark glare, just daring him to say ‘I told you so’. “Not a fucking word.”

@notjustbanshee (x)

[ablinkntime]

@notjustbanshee // from here

She'd heard that line before. Too many times, in fact, yet it always seemed like once she got to explaining herself things got complicated. Especially the finer details of the world she'd come from and the life she'd lived since...

Sighing, Clarice picked up a pebble, worrying it between her fingers. "I guess for starters, it's probably pretty obvious I'm not from around here. Timeline-wise. Sorta like Bishop's situation, the timeline I come from is different. But instead of him coming back in time to try and stop it, somebody coming back in time is what created mine." She huffed softly. "People just can't help but meddle."