#v.} tba

[occultologist]

MEMES !

@corvidamned ASKED: “Tea is soothing. I wish to be tense.”

HE BLINKS and pulls the cup back to himself . unsure what to do with the offering now , he decides to take a sip of it .

❝ is there - - - something you would prefer ? ❞

[saighdaer]

@wastheheart liked for a starter !

THERE'S NO stopping the smile that pulls to his lips when esme approaches him . his hand comes out to press warmly to her shoulder .

❝ esme , ❞ he greets . ❝ as always : a pleasure to see you . i'm sorry to spring my presence on you . do you have a moment to talk ? ❞

[murdocktm]

❛ did you ever even care about us? about me? ❜ || @tornp4ge

he's matched her stride, swaying home at the end of a too good night. the night had been long, wonderful even. it was full of stale beer & friends, matt is sure he's not smiled that much in at least a month. it would exist as an engraving on his mind. the scents, the smells, even the taste of smoke on the air.

" of course i do, " it burns him that it needs to be said. it comes too quickly, searing from his lips in an astounding act of sincerity. like most things, their night had come to an end & it left him thinking, mourning. this was the sort of night that he missed every time he stepped out of the light. it left him feeling strangely colorable, or maybe it was the beer, but the ache in his ribs could not be contained.

" it drives me crazy, sometimes, " it's like a confession of sin. it's unfair, he knows. he knows her ability to give & give & give, but he also knows her want. he can almost smell it sometimes. matt knows better than to think he can give her what she needs, the entirety of his self. he's split in two & always will be, " of course i care about you. i will think of you, always. "

of course he thought of what ' us ' could look like. relentlessly. walking through the park, cooking dinner together, waking up to more than her scent on his sheets. but that was stuck on the tip of his tongue. he swallows the sentiment, dropping his head. to share that would be cruel, " you aren't the sort of thought i would want to put down. "

[dayscorched]

✧ ⼺ open﹐

❛❛ That is a pretty nasty wound ... are you alright ? ❜❜

[stickytm]

“that was a brave thing you did.” || @watsonjackpot

" me, brave? couldn't be. " peter muses, his voice dancing with a hint of sarcasm. he makes a point not to look her in the eye, sidestepping the truth the best he could. yesterday he'd asked her to coffee, a moment to catch up & caffeinate. unfortunately, some guy had fashioned himself into a would-be supervillain & duty called. spider-man had places to be. peter said where there was spider-man, there were pictures to be taken.

he had left her side in a rush to fulfil his bugle-given job. or so he claimed. in reality, he had traded his camera for spandex & set it up to steal a few snapshots of spider-man becoming well acquainted with the taste of concrete. it wasn't his finest hour & he wouldn't call the fight a win... but at least he had gotten a few solid snapshots of his fantastic failure.

today, he was covered in bruises & was sorer than he would ever admit. he feels more than a little bit guilty, lying to her. he knows she's stronger than his half-baked lie. peter, however, is not. so he offers a crooked smile & continues, " it's all in a day's work. besides, a paycheck from the bugle is a great motivator."

[xbadnews]

if i fail, i'll fall apart. || @saintsdawn

percy cannot help but feel a pang of sympathy for florence. it's a sentiment he can relate to, in a way. so well as he was doing well, so long as he succeeded… he couldn't help but ride a high that came with that. losing, however, brought him crashing down & quickly. he wouldn't call himself fragile & had difficulty associating her with the concept but pride was a funny thing.

" people like us don't get to fall apart. not for long. " he muses. heroism had not always been his path, his priority. but success had been, " we find reasons to keep going. even if it feels like we can't. "

[xfindingtrouble]

@softersinned - plotted!

They had arrived with the setting sun, when the stars had begun to sparkle against a near-dark sky. He & Scanlan had met with a girl in a town not too far from here. She had been polite, courteous as she lead them down a well-trodden but hidden path, twisting through the woods in what felt like every direction. Percy had poked & prodded at her for information, The girl had spoken quite fondly of her mistress. She made this trek every evening, she had claimed, to help her lady style her hair. She was paid well, or at least it seemed that way. She looked to be well fed, well-dressed. Percy's initial impression was that their guide likely wanted for very little, which had driven him to think she was taken care of by her employer.

When they finally break through the treeline, they are met by intimidating walls that stretched around a very old castle. Were there more light than the waning sun, Percy would have indulged in exploring the magnificent architecture. There was something distantly romantic about the way ivy had invaded the worn stone that had stood stubbornly against the elements for as long as it had been there. Or at least, this is what he assumed. He continues to soak in the finery as they pass through unfamiliar halls, exchanging idle conversation about the lady of the castle. Scanlan had directed him to this proprietor of curses, lead him there even. 'Astoria is good fun,' he had boasted, they had worked together more than once in the past. She doesn't get out much, Scanlan had claimed. She stayed to the shadows with her own longevity in mind. Percy could appreciate this, despite his misgivings about dealing with someone of her nature.

Despite the tightness in Percy's stomach, there were a hundred other things to worry about right now. Like how Scanlan seems to gain an extra bounce to his step when they approach what must be a familiar door. He throws it open with a boldness Percy had come to expect from the little man. Percy takes a long moment to take in the grand library they had entered, nearly as magnificent as the woman draped across one of the couches in the room. The scene reminded him more of a story, a painting, than life itself. There was an old power she wields as she pushes herself from her cushions to greet Scanlan. The man greets their host fondly, Percy keeping a purposeful distance between himself & their odd affections. It gives Percy room to process the scene at hand. There is grandeur to the room itself, of course... but there is something else that leaves him breathless. It is strange to see the woman here, before him, dressed in black & gold finery. Her loose curls fall comfortably around her face, framing a face that could almost be human. Almost, being the keyword. He was not sure what he had expected, but it certainly wasn't this. Perhaps someone grayer, with less fire twinkling in their eyes.

Percy had been hesitant to seek out her assistance. Dealings with the undead rarely went well. But he was desperate & woefully unprepared to deal with a demon on his own. He was still grappling with the fact that he had allowed such a creature to have any sway over him to begin with. He had nearly killed his sister, his friends, himself. It left him feeling strangely hollow, the invasive scar of Orthax still lingering in the back of his mind. Even so, he missed his weapon. Every shot from Dr. Anna Ripley's bastardized version of his invention was a reminder that he had made this technology available to the world. He had inspired a madwoman with his bloodshed & she would likely be one of many. He was eager to return to the familiarity of 'The List ' if it could be saved

After giving them a few moments to indulge in familiarities, Percy makes a point to clear his throat. Draw attention to the task at hand. Of course, he is a bit uncomfortable. The sentiment shows in the stiffness of his shoulders. He introduces himself in earnest, but Scanlan clarifies that he answers to Percy just as well. It warms the room, just a bit. There had been an indescribable chill that had settled inside him on the journey here, the way dusk fell so peacefully reminding him of the nature of the creature he was about to face. His limited dealings with vampires had often left him angry, bloody, longing for vengeance. It made him loathe to think he would share his invention with such a creature. 'The List' is a weapon that could change the very state of the world if it fell into the wrong hands. when he had made it, he didn't care about any greater implications. He had been powerless & had found control in whatever way he could. Now, the very thing that had propagated his retribution was tucked away in his bag.

There was another reason he was hesitant; The List's history was deeply interwoven with Percy's very being. It's what had driven him to stop Scanlan from tossing it in a vat of acid beneath his home, despite that bard's protests. He had a hunch, Scanlan had claimed & it had not taken much investigation to confirm Orthax's lingering presence. Percy supposed he knew as well, when the lingering ache of his hatred flared in the back of his skull. Percy had been wielding a subverted version of his preferred weapon, crafted from scraps he had taken from a mad woman. he was eager to have his preferred weapon back. Astoria had expressed great interest in whatever was attached to the list in their brief communication prior to this. He hoped his impatience to solve this problem wouldn't be his downfall. Percy asks Scanlan to clear the room, which he nearly protests. Astoria knows him well, as she directs him to a handful of filthy books ( Which Percy only recognized from a private familiarity with the titles, of which he would deny endlessly. ) The bard leaves the room, balancing a stack of books in his arms before Percy finally takes a seat across from Astoria.

Though they are polite, expressing & trading pleasantries, there is a tension that hangs in the air between them. Percy's hesitance versus Astoria's fascination. Both parties shift to the edge of their seats, dancing around the subject that brought them together for what seems like too long. The impending tightness in Percy's chest threatens to send him running with his tail between his legs, which would not be entirely unlike him. Unfortunately, it would be terribly unbecoming of him, so instead of following his instinct, he brings something else up. A gift. Scanlan had suggested Percy bring her some wine ( ' You're a wine guy, right? Astoria will love that, ' ) so Percy had done just that. He had brought two bottles, in fact, though now that he was faced with presenting them he felt strangely nervous. what was left of his palms were sweaty he finally drags his voice up his throat & forces it through his teeth.

" I've brought a gift, as a gesture of goodwill. " Percy offers a tight smile that forces the corners of his mouth upwards. The woman was not unlikable by any means, but that was the part of his impending nerves. Conversation was becoming easier with her, she had a sharp wit that stimulated Percy's mind. It had shown in the brief interaction they had shared thus far, leaving him curious but wary. He could not forget what he was dealing with. What he was doing here. Gloved hands reach into the bag he had been permitted to enter with. From it, he pulls a bottle of wine. Then another. He hands them directly to her, watching for her reaction from the corner of his vision as he reaches for one final item. He hesitates before pulling a third item from his bag as well, setting it on the table between them. It is a box of intricate design, a golden lock keeping it's contents inside it's dark wooden interior. There is an engraving on the top that makes Percy's mouth feel strangely dry. It does every time he looks at it. ' The list ' is carved into the fine wood, marking what lies within.

" Wine makes these sorts of things a bit easier, after all. " He hopes she will decide to indulge now, perhaps even share. It may make the negotiations easier, as he would be sure the list's origin would come up. That, he was looking forward to least of all. He had found anything else he could to lament over until now, but the situation at hand was becoming more real by the second. He lets a breath out, finally leaning back in his chair. he runs a gloved hand through white hair, peering at her over double-lensed glasses, " Formalities aside, I suppose we have some business to tend to. "

[hatredcurse]

"He looks miserable, poor soul." | @obeliskheart — Juugo

"UHM, excuse you— I am right here. I can hear you, you big idiot," Suigetsu drops whatever 5 drinks he was harvesting to puff himself up, like he was threatening or something. "What 'bout me looks miserable?? I'm lookin' better than you!!"