#v;tbd?

[exiled-knight]

@savcgcry​ said:                                                                            “i need you to leave.”            

                There was something abroad the tone that stirred Grayson’s very own hackles, or what little he could muster in his current humanoid state. It would embody  the propensity among tension  which he had  abruptly accommodated within his demeanor.  Glowering through the sights of a firearm, one appointed and heavily relied on despite the second nature lurking beneath the humanesque clutch of habit.  The wolf inside , antsy by the flood of senses that affiliated with this individual he just so happened to stumble upon.

A similar predacious smell  he was sure that he himself had been riddled with, yet here he would undoubtedly bewilder any creature who  got to witness his caged nature and surrogate it with the weapon of man in it’s stead.              “  So you can do what -- exactly ? “  The edge in his tone derived that distaste , which accumulated a certain suspicion.  One that made him stubborn to budge.

[exiled-knight]

  Continued +

                   Played the fool, strode the knight - on into spiritual delude rode the wolf.   The moon with her light, manifested the beast .  Insoluble to diffuse , as traits of his feral captive began to surface.  Coarser hair aligned the facial normality, it’s divergence of the attribute which grew in trail. Sharply lacing his jawline, trickling in ridges across and up to his ear it thinned.

       “ Do not be the fool, Marquis !  “ He spat with a hand coming to swipe away whatever assistance the Frenchman had considered among this turmoil. “ I haven’t the time nor patience to give you reason ! “  Agitation plundered his warning inscribed upon a persistence to deliver him far from the area as possible. “ You are not safe here – with me.  Do I make myself clear ? !  “ Urgency collided again, with the lurch of animal magnitude proposing his demand , an additive growl that amplified once more with one preternatural unity.

     “ I am beyond help, old friend.  Just go - now ! “ Hissing through the pain as bones splintered, jolting him forward and against the nearest wall for support.  A hand graced along the brick as he struggled to maintain an upright advantage. Feeling his ribs pivot inward, then expanding his chest forward; reconfiguring his torso anomalously. Such a horrific depiction was as painful as it looked, judging by the agony that twisted his expression into one of great peril. 

@unfortunateperceval

[exiled-knight]

anoldirishhymn said:                                                                      👻 - tell ghost stories        

         He only sat by the hearth stone of the pub to recollect some element of the warmth he had lost from this conjuring cold that now howled outside. A cold he was inadequately dressed for.  Beating desperately against the window panes with violent, vengeful gusts. Autumn was dying and with it’s current, winter rode. Giving birth to a rapid change among England’s notorious seasons. Frost easily nipping exposed bits of flesh even during mid day, when the sun shown brightest.

    Having his hands needfully exposed and hoovering above the pitted flame that licked at the fresh batch of wood. Feeding it in growth, one which unified a settling heat , it ventured wide from the kindling batched logs. The amplification stirred his satisfaction with a longing hum just caught at his throat.  In his desperation, he only heard bits and pieces of mingling stories hushed in over exaggerating whispers to foretell the ambience they aimed for, the very kind influenced by horror and trauma .  Only serving as background noise until he was approached by another patron. Whom he coyly exposed his glance to her , misinforming that invitation by the judge of things as a male settled in peeking over her shoulder and jesting a loud and obnoxious  “ I dun suppose ya have any stories ta’ tell ? “ If not uttered mildly under scorn -- not appeased that his stories were losing listeners to the stranger beside the fire.

         “  No  -- “ he curtly answered.  His gaze glimpsed the man over with a confined scowl, though the expression collided dull. When his eyes returned apologetically brief toward the woman in between, sparing her from this vexation that spooled from his lips next. “ I expect the stories I hold -- are of my own and not the inconsistent babblings of tales passed from one to another.  I have seen things , experienced things that you could not possibly fathom.  So no -- sir,  I have none to tell for the populace that would whittle such tales into a state of hysteria. “ Feigning a smirk that collaborated with a darkening stare, impenetrable and challenging. When the man retreated to mumbling incoherently, Grayson once again addressed the stranger , though this time he greeted her with a sincere frown, “ With profound hope, I suggest you not take his words to heart. It reeked of nonsense, if you ask me. “

@anoldirishhymn

[exiled-knight]

nonsexual acts of intimacy — select from the following for my muse to respond to:        

knightcommanderlucan said:               ♟  : Patching up a wound 

                                           Grayson hardly played the bitter son, yet he wore the facade well.  Conflict dampened into the pit of humility for being stuck amid this predicament in the first place. Hues scorned with malice, though they were not directly ascended upon the opposite male.  No, they heatedly scowled at the hands at work. The obdurate mask, occasionally would fissure - escorting a flinch in respondence to some pain that mingled forth every time and again. Though he dared not be vocal about it.

A drive in him, fifty fold proposed him to show no weakness in front of the Elder.  One that he had not caught upon his own radar, due to the merged instincts of wolf and man. Showing pain, illuminates a weakness a beast cannot afford to show if the patriarch itself was in question.  

“  Is this really necessary ?  “   The undermining meaning, driven with that disdain.  He indicated by tone, judging by both lycan rejuvenation as well as the blackwater.

[exiled-knight]

mostlyhumcn said:                                                                   

  ☠ - visit a cemetery at night            

     It had been incredibly late, that Grayson had felt the drowsy fog clot his gaze upon several occasions.  Often adjoining enough pressure just above his sinuses and exceed outward by thumb and forefinger. It served to rub onward over his eyes in a futile attempt to stimulate himself further alert. Though the endeavor only seemed to have grown with agitation -- he kept insisting to knead his digits sporadically throughout a trudge forward.  Damp earth protested beneath the boots worn, the leaves followed suit in their fragmented mound abroad the soil ; for his path proved to have been a noisy one. Or perhaps it had all fell upon the Knight’s circumspect, foiled by his exhaustion.  Forty eight hours had passed -- and with it, not an ounce of rest. Even the wolf inside him grew perturbed.

      However, it wasn’t long before a familiar tremor hackled his sensory. With it, his adrenaline ignited providing enough spark to jolt him vigilantly. The odd awareness of the beast merging with the resolute intuition to listen. He felt his ears twitch -- an uncanny feeling as he tuned to the low modulation of a voice.  The intrusion was enough to halt him. Emeralds peruse through the rotting trees, the near open fields of nothing but headstones. Or so the survey at first glance would result.  When he alas spotted the silhouette of a man, gradual movement and conversing with what only he could conceive as an animal of the sorts.  A bird, judging by the shape it cast if not barely visible under the variance to the waning moon.

     Sure he withheld many questions -- likewise of why the other male was stationed amid a cemetery at the wee hours of the morning. Though, in honesty the same could have been said for him. Reluctant as he was to approach, he mustered to maintain a reasonable and cautious distance between them as he embarked to greet the other. When stirring closer however, the resemblance obtained by memory - he somehow knew this man.  Though he couldn’t quite place when or where.  Leaning back to incline abroad a stone monument, the hedge of it’s base used for a stool to pivot one foot as arms folded across his chest.  “  I don’t suppose it be polite to ask on why a man of your prestige would be out conversing with beast ?    “   Though the halfbreed assumed his status with the senate upon the suggestive. Curiosity , too, laced his inquiry with an impassive gaze to escort.

[captain-wolf-of-the-sea-blog]

"You're not welcome." (( evie pls

         The Irishman had been in a rather jocular mood prior to the ice which bit him. The contrast amid his expression as it dwindled in merriment to a pained and baffled contraction.  Hazels went from bright and full of life, to literally quashed beneath the rejection ushered aloud. Words were caught in his throat, yet sculpted ; wore the query abroad his visage. He awkwardly adjusted himself with an uncertain smile, a jest of  an expression as he glimpsed behind him , perhaps in hope that it wasn’t him that she had addressed. Yet no one but him stood present.  

            When he returned his glance, hues softened momentarily with that uncertainty coiled around the approach. “  Pardon me,  I had not realized tis’ was a private establishment ? “  A half drawn chuckle, suppressed just beneath the vowels. He shifted his weight upon one leg, a sway in distribution. As he raised a hand to gesture for the bar.  “ Jus’ one drink, lass.  All I ask. “An aim to justify staying, tiers molded upon an inclining smirk.

@herstealth

[bransonford-blog]

makeademonwannaretire

Branson rolled over, burying his face into his pillow with a groan. He felt foolish, and embarrassed. Would things be different between them now? Would she distance herself from him now that he’d confessed. He propped his chin on his hands, glancing towards the empty side of the bed that was, more often than not occupied by his best friend. He bit down on the inside of his cheek, recalling the events of the night. in his mind that played over and over within his dreams.

Maybe she was as confused as he was? Although, the reasoning behind the confusion differed slightly. Perhaps he should give her some space. Allow them both to figure whatever it was between them out.

Sighing, he forced himself  into an upright position, wincing a bit at the sudden pain that shot through his shoulder. He’d been injured during the fighting, a blade had sliced through his shoulder, stopping only when it had hit bone. The wound could use fresh bandages, as the ones currently covering the wound were soaked with his own blood. With a shake of his head, he used his uninjured arm to open a drawer, and took a few moments of rummaging through it to find fresh bandages, and a bottle of alcohol.

Once the wound was clean, and had been successfully re bandaged, he pulled on his tunic, a clean pair of pants, and boots. His gaze fell to the sling on the nightstand. With a roll of his eyes, he slipped the cloth around his neck, and slipped his arm into it. Normally, he would disregard the instructions given to him by the healer, but he was in no mood for a lecture from Cullen.

The training grounds were surprisingly quiet for this time of the day. Perhaps his younger brother was in a war meeting. Or maybe, just maybe, after the events in Halemshiral he allowed them to have a break. Branson sighed, glancing towards Marian and bit down on his lip. He couldn’t avoid talking to her forever. Just get it over with.

“Morning!” He called, waving at Marian with his free hand as if nothing had happened between them the night before.