#vigorminded

[strongnamed-blog]

@vigorminded ♡

As a relative of the Prince, he’s not supposed to take sides in the feud, but since Mercutio isn’t keeping his affiliation under wraps, Neal figures it his friendship with Tybalt, which is more like a uncle-niece type connection, won’t do any harm. It was his pedigree that in the first place allowed him access to the prestigious Capulets, though he’d never much liked Mr. and Mrs. Capulet themselves. Tybalt, on the other hand, he instantly recognized as a reflection of who he used to be. He discussed it with himself a few times, before he made one rash decision to befriend her and hopefully help her out the way he wished someone would’ve helped him out. It took a while to gain her trust, but here they are, on the brink of a meaningful friendship, and he feels as though it is time to share some words of wisdom, which he’s kept to himself until now.

"Tybalt, I know ... I know how it feels to be controlled by your own blood. It feels like there’s no way out, like you’re stuck for the rest of your life, and like even if you leave – then what? – then you’re just gonna continue what those bastards have set you up to do for your whole life? But it doesn’t have to be that way. My father,” a shadow creeps into his voice, “he threw me away when I wasn’t acting like he wanted me to. That obviously wasn’t a good feeling, but it freed me, too. You’ve gotta fight back, or you’ve gotta leave. This isn’t healthy for you, kid.”

[cartacalled-blog]

@vigorminded (Sera!! was never an agreeable girl)

“You always find the most akward places to sit,” to be fair it’s probably not akward if you’re as tall as Sera, but when you’re barely 4′8 with tiny legs it’s a different matter all together. “Friggin sun-gazer,” the phrase has no malice to it, not like when it is applied to nobles and the like. In fact she can’t help but laugh a little as she finally manages to squeeze through the window (another issue: Sera is considerably slimmer than she is) and onto the roof. Then it’s only a matter or forcing herself not to look down and Stone isn’t she glad that fear demons haven’t found a way to physically manifest themselves as heights yet. Or the sky, actually. And yet here she is, up a height under the big blue nothingness, the things she does for her...well. for her. She shuffles warily along the roof before finally sitting down next to Sera. A little too close to Sera, which she could claim is a hundred percent out of affection but that’d be a lie, at least thirty percent of it is from fear. “It’s a good thing you’re so cute.” 

[bustcaps-blog]

            ❛  i hope you slept well.  ❜  sun is naught but a sliver above the horizon,  shining only a dull glimmer through rose - tinted windows of her enterprise.  fresh - made coffee is a pleasant smell that warms the air,  as well as her hands that rest ‘pon cup of morning brew.  never too early for business;  though she may hear some disgruntled contention from the brawn she had bring the boy in.  ❛  i couldn’t.  hard to,  ain’t it?  when you’re out the caps you're owed.  ❜  she pauses for a sip of her drink,  lipstick staining rim of pearly - white mug.  ❛  can’t say i’m surprised,  kid.  just disappointed.  gave you a shot in the dark,  but so’s it turns out,  you’re a snake.  ❜  

@vigorminded

[cartacalled-blog]

vigorminded

  Starter call!!! 

KICKS DOWN UR DOOR pls write preston a thing :-vc

binch i was gunna do that anyway n we all kno it why r u even pretending ////: 

[makercursed-a]

@vigorminded (tybalt!)

It’s been a good night. True her nose has only just stopped bleeding, and the cut on her cheek is probably going to scar (who the fuck fights in an engagement ring anyway?) but she’s come out of it with the money so really, who’s laughing now? Her, that’s who. Money shoved into her sports-bra, she refuse to fight in anything but that and shorts, although God help the first man to wolf whistle her, she elbows her way through to the bar for a couple of drinks. Even with the advantage of her considerable height, she cant seem to find Max in the crowd, but she can see Tybalt brooding in the corner, which is good enough. Almost better, actually. Max is a great guy, but the point still stands that he’s a guy. Sometimes a gal just needs to admire a woman. It keeps her young. 

Making her way back through the crowd, she juts her chin at Tybalt and offers her a kind of smirk; the closest thing to a smile most people will pull from Hawke. Glaring at people until they clear her a space, she eventually slips down in a seat next to Ty and hands her a coke. “I think I remember you saying you don’t drink, yeah? If I got that wrong you can have my beer.” 

She doesn’t bother with pleasantries like how are you, you okay, how have you been or any of that shit. Such things are discussed here, at least, not by her, and she doubts Ty would take the questions happily either. It’s not that Hawke doesn’t care, fuck no, but she knows as well as anyone that some things are just better left ignored.