#verse main.

[misswould]

                          “     i     swear     detective,     i     haven’t     seen     nothin’     wrong     going     on     here.     we     just     play     music,     sell    booze     –     i     sing.     you     haven’t     heard     me    sing     yet,     have     ya,     detective?     ”     practiced     hum,     long     legs     crossed     hike     up     the     white     dress     to     purposeful     levels     (     she’s     creating     a     distraction,     there’s     no     doubt     her     rat     –     ass     of     a     boss     is   still     scourging     the     lounge     like     a     vulture   waiting     for     the     storm     to     pass     ).     Holli     is     willing     to     cooperate     (     she     has     her     own     agenda     to     follow,     and     for     that,     Charlie     Davis     needs     to     be     dead     or    rotting     behind     bars     ),     but     common     sense    prevails     over     greed     –     this     is     no     place     to     discuss     anything     juicy.    

                                             “     why     don’t     you     join     me     backstage     while     i     get     ready?   we’ll     be     more     comfy     there.     ”     double   -     intentioned,     she     lures     him     to     a     place   where     only     dummy     cameras     reign     (     Charlie     has     eyes     on     every     corner     of     the    lounge,     but     the     dancers     stand     their     ground   sometimes     ),     “     don’t     worry,     you     can     take     your     whiskey     with     you.     ”   (  @bewrath​  )

[oathled-blog]

starter call. / @thalxssas

          “kairi, look! guns!” had he of been clever he might have rolled up his sleeves and showed off his noodle arms, flexing as if he held a candle to riku. but he wasn’t. instead, he was quite literal. his keyblade had changed, forming two arrow guns that were honestly comical in size, but the damage output? nothing to laugh at. there was so much he’d yet to show her, so many new techniques and abilities to brag about, and this is where he started. it took some time for him to remember the other major detail, one he didn’t look at too often but caught sometimes in his reflection.          “i’ve also got stars on my butt.. they make my arrows stronger.” no, no they don’t. but he had to believe something.

[holyshards]

₩ // i gave in to temptation yuhdcgjdj

sit on sting’s lap.

scarred eyebrow cocked in curiosity, sting had to wonder why he was a lure for these situations. it wasn’t that he was terribly put out by rogue taking a seat on him; if rogue was going to sit on anybody, sting figured he’d choose his partner. it was that subtle ‘ rogue smirk ’ that was hiding just under the surface. sting could pick out that look anywhere.

❛ ─oi. ❜ hanging his head, sting ran a gloved palm through his hair. then, he leaned all the way back in the chair, his closed fist resting just in front of his mouth pensively.

❛ i know there’s no unoccupied chairs, rogue, but that doesn’t give you a free pass to get up in my business. ❜ . . . but when he drops his arm, he’s smiling.

[misswould]

Eggsy: uwu     (  @unnwin​  )

                            “     what’s     with     that     face?     you     look     like     an     emoji     or     something.     ”

                        she’s     laughing,     however     –          it     comes     off     oddly     natural;    there’s     something     not     as     practiced     about   the     chuckle     that     she     cannot     manage     to     conceal.     It     doesn’t     quite     matter     (     she    doesn’t     think     he     will     notice;     nobody     really     does     ),     but     it     cracks     her     walls     slightly,     and     that     worries     her     more     than     she     cares     to     admit.    

                        Pillow     talk     is     her    forte     (     she’s     crafted     the     perfect     pattern     of     conversation,     the     perfect     script,     that     will     benefit     her     whenever     she     brings     someone     to     her     bed     ),     never     talk     too   much,     let     the     other     ramble     about     their     day,     their     worries,     their     frustrations     –     perhaps     that’s     why     it’s     so     unexpected     when     he     makes     that     face     and     she     cracks   up     laughing,     because     it’s     not     part     of    the     script.     Holli’s     heard     humans     are     creatures     of     habit.

                              She     hates     her     own   laughter,     always   has     (     it     sounds     too     nasal,     it     pitches     way     too     much    when     she     truly     means     it     ),     but     he    doesn’t     seem     fazed     by     it,     and     perhaps    that     makes     her     feel     more     at     ease     about   what     she     considers     a     slip     of     the     tongue.

                        “     you’re     tryin’a    make     me     laugh,     you     succeeded,     hotshot     –    now     you     can     stop     !     ”     she   pushes     him     back     onto     the     couch,     bundle     of     blankets     surrounds     sweat     –   ladden     bodies     (     they     smell     of         whiskey     and     smoke    and     her     perfume     ).     there’s     something     oddly     comforting     about     this     moment,     and     Holli    fears     she     might     not     want     it     to     pass    so     quickly,     “     is     that     how     y’get     your     gals?     by     pulling     dumb     faces?     I     mean,    with     a     name     like     eggsy,     i’m     not   surprised.     ”     teeth     tug     on     her     lower     lip,     and     she     brushes     away     the     loose     curls    of     unpinned     hair     framing     her     cheekbones,     “     christ,     you’re     lucky     to     be     hot.     ”

[holyshards]

₩ / u asked for it

sit on sting’s lap.

it may have shocked the white dragon significantly more if he hadn’t had two previously uninvited guests in his personal space recently, but having the poison dragon make himself at home atop sting’s legs did throw him for a loop. sting figured he was drunk, but perhaps the real reason rested, in some part, with the way natsu’s scent was plastered all over the white dragon like cling wrap. upon arriving, he’d promptly challenged natsu to a drinking competition, knowing the pink-haired man wouldn’t back down . . . and proceeded to piss him off, by invading his space so sting could win. it worked, and while he’d temporarily put himself in the line of fire─literally─by cheating, sometimes you had to make your own fun at these events.

however─sting had no idea of the truth behind those two. he'd simply been tipsy since the moment he walked in, and everything seemed within the realm of possibilities. erik could be here to ask him to be his dance partner for the evening, for all sting knew. his thoughts raced for an explanation. when it found none, sting just settled on making erik’s stay as miserable as possible. rogue was probably somewhere close, enjoying watching sting dig himself into a proverbial hole; there was simply no self-preservation on his mind. if he had to die this evening, at least it was with a smirk on his face and his voice grating in erik’s ears. eye for an eye, and all that.

─oh, maybe that wasn’t appropriate.

❛ oh ? and here i thought you wanted nothing to do with me. change your mind, or is this some kind of trap that’s gonna come back to bite me later ? your guild is making my lap a popular location tonight, y’know. yet you’d be the last one i expected . . . or wanted. ❜

[oathled-blog]

starter call. / @kindroyal​

          “it’s a gummiphone, chip and dale made it.” he holds the device within his right hand and taps awkwardly with his left. it’s still so foreign to him, how people appear at the touch of a button or how it captures his image and sends it on to others across worlds. but he tries, and experiments and takes far too many selfies. “it can do tons of stuff.. it’s been really helpful on my adventure!” he brags about it, but its truly all he understand when it comes to technology. computers, grid systems, ar devices — it’s all so alien to him. “isn’t it really cool?” 

[oathled-blog]

starter call / @wielderpcwer​

         “we just need a few more apples.” this was all his own fault really. showing up with an apple pie he claimed to make on his own wasn’t the smartest idea. especially when he was instantly called out on his half truth, cornered into admitting that it was really little chef all along. he never wanted to hide remy’s skill, nothing like that! he just wanted to briefly believe that he could have made something so incredible. so there he was, collecting the final few apples before returning to the bistro. of course he dragged kairi along with him, insisting that she see the worlds now that the training was over; for now anyway. “i think that’s enough. c’mon, lets see what little chef says!”

[oathled-blog]

starter call / @dawnled

       “riku, i don’t think you understand the importance of this..” he speaks in such a serious tone that he almost shocks himself out of it. it’s very seldom he can be so stern, without a hint of humor or otherwise on his features. but he was dead set on getting this done, on achieving a task that would forever go undone if not completed soon. it takes every ounce of self-restraint that he has, a little as it is to begin with, to keep himself from reaching into his pocket and doing the deed. but he wanted something special. he wanted more then a blurred mess. “if you don’t take a selfie with me i’m telling kairi.” what he’d tell her, he didn’t know, but he knew for sure that she’d be on his side. if riku was going to post far away shots with edgy tags without involving sora, then he would just have to take the photos himself.             “please, it’s important to me.”