#theirnarrative

[legendbcrn-a]

@theirnarrative for llewyn

     there are papers and maps-- old and new-- scattered across the couch, on the coffee table, even on the floor with resource books of various sizes open to random pages around her. sydney herself seems to be balancing on the back end of the heavy couch, walking back and forth like a cat as she swipes across her tablet. she’d come out of her office into the living room so she could spread things out, unsure when her boarder? roommate? would return. expression proves frustrated, almost like that one internet meme of the guy that was in that kaiju movie trying to explain something. the answers were there somewhere, she hoped, but finding them was proving more difficult than anticipated. thoughts are interrupted when she hears the door, a tired sort of smile offered to the man. rome wasn’t built in a day and she needed a break. “want a drink? i need a drink.”

[xmcmusesx]

Christmas: tag someone who has become a personal friend to you.

December Positivity Meme

oh man. i can’t just tag one! i’ve had a lot of people become personal friends to me, so i’mma tag as many of them as i can remember their urls. 

@mcmachine @soldierheartcd @oktva @firefiightcr @theirnarrative @thexsloans @grcwingstrcng @strengthmade @jenniferjareaufbi @dralexk

i’m sure there are even more, but these are the ones i can remember off the top of my head!

[galaeus]

+ and when you call, i’ll come home... | @theirnarrative

                                           You can’t kill the Boogeyman.

Frank Castle is dead. Buried for real this time, his story finished in a nice little bow. They know his name in this city as a vacant whisper, a cautionary tale to the big men on campus who’d take their chances transporting their stolen, corrupted goods. They know him for the red on his hands, for the blood from others can’t ever seem to leave his hands. They gloss over his sacrifices (Marie, Lisa, Frank) and forget his service (a survivor, a warrior) to paint him in the light they need him to be. His death gives mobsters a sigh of relief; and go figure-- with the powers of authority in shambles, they can turn over a new leaf.

But Frank Castle has been dead before, and Echo doesn’t believe ghost stories.

He’d be here because she knows his motives; he can’t help himself when it comes to a good blood bath of criminals all together in one tight room, fingers greasy from potato chips and boujee liquor. Maybe he’s off the radar, maybe he hasn’t been anywhere near the radar for six months, but he still has a pattern. You don’t just break routine. One day, maybe one day, he’ll show up to a whispered game of cards and find that very routine when he gets bored, or his trigger finger itches for a little bit of rightful justice.

And she’ll be here. It’s been six whole months since Frank Castle was announced dead by the FBI, but Echo Galaeus will be here.

[i-am-the-awakening]

@theirnarrative

“Poe?” Rey asked quietly, keenly aware that the majority of those around her were sleeping. “Poe Dameron?”

She herself was wrapped in a thick blanket and carrying a cup of what the General graciously called ‘tea’. Rey wasn’t sure what ‘tea’ was, but to her it was an inky, slightly herbal tasting water. But it kept people awake and warm. And in the depths of space, a little warmth was sometimes necessary.

She had only met the pilot a day ago after they had fled Crait, but she imagined that even a stranger might need a pick-me-up in the middle of a cold, sleepless night. “I thought...well...here,” she offered, handing him the cup. 

[warguilt-blog]

he tries to be subtle in an attempt to steal a glance though he fails quite dramatically, the smile he wears reaching up and into a pair of starry eyes.   his arms fold over his equally muscled chest as he glances out into the street at the steady traffic that’s started to roll by.

❛   how ‘bout we turn off the alarm clock and let ‘em play hooky?   ❜   he pauses, head canted as he regards her with a cocked brow.   ❛   c’mon, what’s one day?   ❜   /   @theirnarrative* 

[agentdmadani-blog]

@theirnarrative came calling

When she heard Frank’s voice the weight of her holster felt heavier against her side, “Let me guess, you were in the neighborhood,” Dinah replied gently as she turned to face him. She hoped this was just them catching up, but she knew how hard second chances were. The past is a beast that you can’t shake.

[cverture-a]

Seattle Grace Mercy Death. // @theirnarrative

Beth hadn’t anticipated ending up in Seattle, but in her search for Connor Stevens she knew she couldn’t rule anything out. For months she had been receiving and vetting tips regarding his whereabouts, but each clue had failed to create a trail as to where her best friend had gone. That was, at least, until she received an alert of someone with his name being admitted to a hospital in Washington. Barely a day later, she had gotten off the plane and caught a cab to the hospital in question. 

She wasn’t sure exactly where to start -- it wasn’t as if the hospital would just willingly give out patient information; there were laws about that. Lucky for her, she was a master computer hacker. To start, the brunette had set up in one of the various waiting areas that were meant for waiting family and friends. With her laptop in place, her focus was to break through the hospital firewall. 

And then there it was: the familiar scent of sulfur, the sudden chill in the air. All of her tagging along onto Connor’s hunts all those years had come in handy, and also sparked her curiosity. Where was this ghost? Had Connor been hunting it? Had it manifested itself? Before she knew it, her laptop was packed into her messenger bag and she was traipsing down the hallway in search of the source, EMF monitor tucked at her side: the frequency further proving the presence of a soul that hadn’t passed on.

[scinglives]

@theirnarrative​   |||   liked for a starter | STILL ACCEPTING “You’re about the tenth person to ask if I’m sure I’m ready to go back to work --- YES. I’ll be fine.”