#polardestiny

[l-ucitiel]

❛ you know, when you're THIS needy, i'm starting to feel like i'm neglecting you. ❜ / @polardestiny .

[l-ucitiel]

❛ i know you're cold, but i am too. ❜ / @polardestiny .

[luminarot]

@polardestiny said: " you came back. you're here. "

There's something rattling in Wesley's lungs as he chokes out labored breaths, heart straining to keep its jittering beat now that milky eyes have finally opened. He can't quite focus on the silhouette hovering over his corpse, but that's alright, because he'd know that voice anywhere: it's Frankie. ( But why would they sound so relieved to have a monster on their doorstep? )

Wesley opens his mouth to speak, to try and soothe the worry sharpened at the edge of their tone, but all that comes out is a weak gurgle — and then he lurches away, spine twisting with a sick snap, desperately trying to spare Frankie from the rot that spatters past his bloodied lips. He's choking on it, barely able to hold himself up as he violently heaves, tears springing to his eyes involuntarily; those, too, drip down his cheeks in blackened streams, stripped of even this small humanity. He can't remember the last time he shed a real tear.

When his stomach has finished turning itself inside out, he sinks back to the earth, curling up on his side despite the pain that lances through him. It makes no difference when everything is going to hurt, anyway; he might as well try to hold himself together before something else can tear him apart.

"Yeah. Sorry," he whispers, vocal chords shredded, and he bites back a grimace at the feeling of shifting bone. "I'm here. Can't help it. How long — has it been?"

[luminarot]

@polardestiny said: " shhh, no, it’s alright, it was just a nightmare. you’re safe, you’re safe here. "

Benji's going to die down here. His chest is on fire, stomach ripping open with each stumbling step, and he knows those things can smell the trail of blood he's leaving behind him. Scraped palms graze the walls of the dark cavern, looking for anything to guide him through the maze that has him trapped; desperate for an opening, looking up for any hint of the light, dragging himself forward without knowing which direction he's turning. And then the fucking ground starts to crumble under his feet. He jumps back, but not quick enough to evade the claws punching through the earth, grabbing at his ankles with an unholy shriek —

His eyes fly open and the world shifts, surroundings unfamiliar even if they're lit by warm lamp light. The last of a scream dies in his throat; blankets pool at his waist, a soft voice murmuring, and he blinks blearily back at the worried face staring back at him.

"...A nightmare?"

It's coming back to him now: crawling out into the snow and ice, the agony of almost dying, the panicked stranger who had found him, who carefully set his arm and bandaged his wounds. The world that was almost like his own but not quite, the days he's sat here bedridden with Max still missing. ( It might've been a nightmare, but the dream had been real. And one day, he's going to have to go back to it. )

"Shit," Benji wheezes, heart still pounding against his ribs. His hand shakes as he drags it down his face, trying to scrub the afterimages of memory from behind weary eyelids. "Sorry, Frankie. What time is it?"

[92328]

DATES !! | @polardestiny , + molly. -----------------------------------

“ 𝐃𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬, 𝐨𝐫 𝐝𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 . . . 𝐚 𝐛𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐬? ” 𝘐𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘣𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘢𝘺, 𝘔𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 ; 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘶𝘱. 𝘍𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘯𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘢 𝘰𝘧 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘫𝘰𝘣 𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘥, 𝘰𝘳 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘧 𝘪𝘵 𝘞𝘈𝘚 𝘢 𝘫𝘰𝘣 𝘢𝘴 𝘰𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘢 𝘩𝘰𝘣𝘣𝘺, 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘥𝘰𝘨𝘴 𝘢𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘴 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘢𝘭 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘥 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘳.

[televanghell]

she's always so hesitant to approach him. but his energy seems less-- everything today, so the fallen angel dares to shift into vox's lap where he's sat on the couch in his office. makes herself comfortable. tail wagging in lazy thumps against the cushions.

     𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐚 𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝒔𝒍𝒐𝒘 𝒅𝒂𝒚. with little ongoing to otherwise strain his patience, one could almost regard the c.e.o as more lenient than usual. though, you'd have to be willing to actually test that. ( which, it would seem, @polardestiny is . )

      the initial reaction is so subtle one might almost think he'd managed to not even notice; were it not for the way he stills, fingers hovering above his phone's keyboard & . paused mid - sentence. wordlessly, vox raises a brow. glancing down toward the ... well, effectively, the dog in his lap, the look they're given is inquisitive for certain but not as much as it is slightly amused.

“ & . what, pray tell, is this ? ”

[rescuefield-arch1]

@polardestiny gets a random starter!

by the time her head could think properly without spinning all the fucking time, claire was already in the office trying to figure out what to do now that not only terrasave leader was dead but their image was almost irreparably stained by the greed they claim to fight. her doctor had suggested therapy upon dismissal from her last check up - out of discussion if claire could have any say about it, except that lately everything she says barely gets taken in serious consideration.

"i've been in therapy when i was younger, but i guess talking about your dead parents is just easier than having to explain some crazy bitch tied to kill you using a fear based virus." this is the shorter and less complicated version at least - the longer and more complex one coming with a set of information claire is not sure can disclose just yet. "i've always wanted a dog." when she looks up toward frankie, claire hopes it's not too weird for the other to see her basically wrapped around one of the dogs designated for pet therapy. "maybe in another life."

[92328]

| UNSOCLIICATED -- @polardestiny + easter. ---------------------------------------- “ 𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐀𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 -- 𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐮𝐩 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐝𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠' 𝐢𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞. ” 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘥, 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘰𝘣𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘰 𝘥𝘢𝘮𝘯 𝘧𝘶𝘯𝘯𝘺. 𝘈𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘌𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳'𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘮 𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘪𝘳, 𝘢𝘯 𝘶𝘱 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘮𝘪𝘮𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘯 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘮 ; 𝘢 𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘩𝘳𝘢𝘴𝘦 '𝘱𝘢𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘥𝘶𝘦𝘴' 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥. “ 𝐓𝐫𝐲 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐬𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲, 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐬 𝐢𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭. ”