#tv1rus

[dspndncy]

@tv1rus wrote: "I can't go back, and I can't go home, and I can't move forward." (okay but sun summoner grace and darkling leon hehehehheehe)

for as long as he has known, he has controlled the shadows like they are an extension of himself.    they are comforting; no matter the way that the grisha are looked down upon, he is nothing more than power.    he could make them bow at his feet  ——  he could make every single atom inside of themselves explode if he so wished.    he can command so easily, so effortlessly  ——  it's like breathing, like the waves washing up against the shore.    before he can even think about pulling them forward, they are there, rising up to meet him, folding around his hands and whispering between his fingers.

he never stops to consider that someone else might not be having such an easy time, that they aren't the powers that have chosen them.

every year, the grisha prospects pour through the door, ready and eager to learn of this newfound magic that twists in their veins.    there are the ones that simply can't cut it, that are sent back home; or worse, they're destroyed during lessons that are far too hard to learn, that take their blood as a warning to all that do not take the training seriously. 

leon keeps himself separated from them and prefers to lead missions, to push back the damn fjerdans that are ready at any moment to knock on ravka's borders.   he tries not to bother himself with the newcomers  ——  if they are worthy, they'll appear in his armies soon enough.    until then, he doesn't need to know their names.

but of course grace ashcroft is a different story altogether.    she is something mystical, something full of wonder  ——  his shadows have pulled toward her even when he has pushed back.     they are drawn to the light underneath her skin, the way that she can banish them away with just a thought.     he has not been challenged by such a thing before and it makes him hungry to see what she can truly do, the world that she can embrace if she so lets herself accept her gift.

leon takes one step forward, then another; his hands fold over her own, shadows nothing more than wisps that curl around, caressing her skin.    the coolness of them helps to bat away the heat that is burning, the power that is begging for release.     one day soon she'll understand it  ——  he has the gut feeling that she is about to break free of the chains that hold her ambition down. 

"be patient with yourself, grace.   you belong here  ——  this gift that you've been given…. it burns underneath your skin.   it calls to you.    you just need to figure out how to let it out, and then it will be easier."    leon's fingers squeeze her own.    he has no business meddling in what should be the teachers' territory, but he can't help himself.    "this longing for belonging will only carry you so far  ——  you have it within yourself to prove that you are worthy.   all you have to do is take it."

[dspndncy]

@tv1rus wrote: after meeting you, i'm starting to believe that heroes really do exist. (GRACE AND MAVEN!!!!!!!!!!)

breath catches in her throat.     maven can hear ringing in her ears, her throat tightening.     no, she is not a hero, not by any means.     grace shouldn't even think something like that of her  ——  not when she has a body count that spans pages, not when she has killed without so much as a flinch, a thought.    it's not like she had a choice at some points, but at other points?    she has killed to survive, she has killed for less.     she has killed because if she doesn't, who the hell is she?     she has been born of nothing more than horror and blood, and now someone wants to call her a hero? 

and for what?    because she had been in the right place at the right time and somehow had become a savior to grace?     because she had made the decision to help her when she should've left her to die?      the woman that had been under umbrella's control would've put a bullet in her without a second thought, would've stepped over her body like it had been nothing.     who she is now….who she is now decided that grace deserved saving, but that cannot be enough to wipe away so much red.

"don't."     her voice is clipped, shaking at the edges.    it's only then that she realizes that her hands are shaking as well.     grace is so damn pure  ——  she hadn't deserved to be in the situation that she was put in, and maybe that had hit far too close to home.     maybe maven had seen more of herself in that than she wanted to admit.     her chest tightens and she swallows hard again, trying desperately to bite the emotion away that twists angrily within.     "i'm not a hero and i never will be, grace.    i'm the thing that heroes kill."

[dspndncy]

@tv1rus wrote: i guess i'm not used to being the one who needs to be protected. (eris & maven <3)

there's a pause in movements as she glances over her shoulder.   none of this can be easy for the other; she was made for nothing more than fighting and blood, and yet here she sits, quiet in front of a television screen that's playing some random show that maven hasn't caught the name of.    she's been in the kitchen, busying herself over the soup that she has making on the stove.    it's not often that she gets to take the time to cook  ——  meals are quick and a necessity when she's on the run, but there's no actual joy in what's going on.    this feels strange  ——  it's far too domestic for her tastes and there's been plenty of times over the past month that maven has tested her limits, tempted to flee through the window with her guns and not look back.     taking care of someone is far too hard.    keeping everyone off of her and eris' backs isn't as easy as it looks, either. 

but maven can't find it within her to actually….let the girl go.    she should because there's going to be far more people coming for her than she cares for, but eris hasn't done anything wrong.    she is adjusting to this new form of life in the same way that maven had had to for so long.     it's her responsibility to take initiative and make sure that she survives the transition.     whatever eris wants to do outside of that?    that's her business. 

"you don't need to apologize.    i just didn't want another pizza delivery."     her nose scrunches up as she glances toward the trash can.     she's pretty sure that the local spot is beginning to both be delighted in their new customers and worried for their health.     so this is a good reprieve  ——  plus, nothing has ever beat something homemade in her opinion.     she checks on the orzo cooking in the broth before she adds the chicken, then heads back over toward the living room area.     this is her favorite part about an open floor plan  ——  outside of the obvious advantages that it gives her.

she finds her spot in the worn out recliner once more, humming lightly as her foot bounces.    "and it's not protecting.    well, kind of.   from yourself and for the sake of your cholesterol."     maven's eyebrow raises at the girl before she bites on her bottom lip, trying to chase away the feeling that she can't shake, the feeling of not being good enough.     "i'm sorry.   i'm used to being the little sister, not the big one.    i don't know how to do all of this properly.    i've been on my own for a while now.    i always did have issues sharing though."

[deathsmaidens]

ERIS DOESNT KNOW HOW TO BAKE COOKIES BUT SHE CAN TRY. also.................................................................................. dang

⠀⠀ there are very few things that surprise miss milou these days ⸺ but it seems as though eris is one of them ... ⠀ ❝ my my, i have a feeling that things will only get more interesting from here on out, miss eris. ❞

bingo bongo :3 + @tv1rus . ♡

[houndw0lf]

plotted starter for @tv1rus & chloe!

it was a rarity that STARS got patrol duty, but things were busy enough at the station that chris was currently sitting in a patrol car and listening to the radio waiting for something interesting to happen. it was late enough that the only thing keeping him awake was the coffee he'd picked up hours ago, cold now after sitting with him for several hours, but he wasn't about to complain. the radio buzzed and he heard through the speaker, "we've got an attempted burglary at the gas station on the corner of first and main. suspect has been detained by the manager, requesting police presence."

it was the first and probably only action he was about to get all night. chris picked up the radio and said back, "this is redfield. heading over now." he pulled the squad car out of its parking spot and made his way over to the store, wondering what sort of situation he'd be running into. it was late enough that he would have expected some sort of hold up, but the fact that the store's employees seemed to have detained the suspect was enough to make him doubt that entirely. so option two was stupid fucking kids trying to steal booze or something, which was probably his least favorite kind of call.

he put the car in park and hauled himself out of the vehicle really wishing he'd smoked a cigarette before he'd arrived, but it was too late now. the bright white florescents burned his eyes as he stepped into the building and he watched as an angry-looking man's glare quickly turned into surprise as he took in chris' uniform. "they sent STARS for something like this?" chris raised an eyebrow but didn't bother to correct the man and instead said, "what happened?"

the manager pulled out a key and opened the door chris imagined must have led to some sort of employee room. "this girl tried to steal from me! can you believe the audacity? as if i don't have enough problems to deal with as a business owner."

the girl in question was a scrawny thing with greasy hair and dirty-looking clothes. chris looked between her and the manager. she hardly looked like she would have put up much of a fight at all, but chris knew looks could be deceiving. he stepped up to her and crouched down so he was more at her eye level instead of towering above her. "i'm chris. what can i call you?" it occurred to him afterward that he should have probably introduced himself as 'officer redfield' or something along those lines. but what the hell did it matter, really?

[collude]

@tv1rus sent: ❛ how do you know my name? ❜ (from elena at tv1rus!!) // silent hill 2 starters.

morning and afternoon look much the same in the mountains except for the direction of the shadows.  even in the warmer seasons,  the village rarely sees any hard,  burning blue sky  —  the days run balmy at their most generous.  which makes it entirely his own fault.   

really,  it’s his fault for not being more observant to realize he left the factory for the little workshop at zenith and walked straight into the village at its most insufferably alive.  it should have been no surprise since it was always the same.  some apparently chafe at the monotony from what he’s heard,  frustratingly recognizing a slow suffocation yet still ever – so loyal to their beloved mother miranda  —  while others of what he’d consider dimmer mind found the rhythm of chores and prayer that had always ruled in their little mountain village somehow soothing.  he has no strong opinion either way.  he simply would have preferred to avoid it. 

lucky for the village,  then,  that heisenberg is in a good mood today.  a good enough mood that when a girl crosses his path,  he doesn’t just look through her.  he tips his head.  a single,  abbreviated nod.     “ elena. ” 

and she looks at him like he’s just done a trick. 

how do you know my name? 

the answer that wants to come out  ( you fucking live here,  don’t you? )  sits on his tongue  —  to her credit  —  to some credit  — it’s not an entirely unreasonable reaction.  the lord heisenberg isn’t exactly known for mingling with the village peons ( though he likes to think he's at least the most willing of his siblings to surface and be seen in passing ).  at most,  he might be seen chatting up a few of the village men for some business,  but seldom anything more.  he doesn’t recall ever having even the smallest exchange of words with this girl before.  he believes he only knows her name because he had heard it in passing when she was speaking to old luiza,  who is impossible to not know. 

“ what, ”    he starts,  the word landing flat as a stone,   “ wouldn't be very neighborly of me if i didn’t know,  hm? ”  

and if she’s wary,  edging toward something more cautious,  that’s her own doing,  really.  she had a clean exit and she fumbled it,  and she has just extended this conversation by acting so shocked. 

[seekschaos]

" you ever think about why we do what we do? help people? put it all on the line for someone who won't ever know your name, won't send you a thank you card, won't be at your bedside when you get hurt... " (from claire to jean!!)

the redhead stared down at her drink, the second one of the night, music and other conversations going on in the background. it was your typical hang out prior to going out on a mission, have some drinks, let loose and just generally have a good time. looked like this time around, redfield decided to bring along claire and honestly, the more the merrier.

"always." jean didn't get into this sort of work to be thanked, she didn't want to be thanked anyways. "and i'm fine with that, because saving other people's lives are more than enough for me. taking down a bioterrorist means that there's one less in the world."

this job may be neverending, greed is a powerful motivator and power can be one hell of a drug, but if there is one thing about herself, spite can also be just as powerful to keep her going. "i will keep on fighting regardless if people recognize it or not, i just want to make the world safer for everyone."

just two redheads drinking and talking, that's fine / @tv1rus