#wlfsbane

[agmaknae-a]

raven completely forgot this was a bingo card and was just having fun marking things that applied to them.

“Did you even try?” This feels fake as hell.

[holyscorch]

" wh - no! i'm not a demon! i'm ... something else, though. " \ lumina >:)

--- ↪ UNPROMPTED.

" hmm ..... is that so ? " she stares, suspicion all too apparent on her expression. her hand holds the handle of her rapier, sheathed with the intent to arm herself if her instincts dictated it so. but .... eventually, her expression deflates into simple uncertainty. ( indeed ... while it was fairly similar, their presence was ... unlike a demon. ) she takes a small step back, polite enough to maintain enough of a distance so she doesn't further encroach on the stranger's space after her previous attempts to interrogate them. eventually, her eyes soften into a far more apologetic look. " ... apologies. i didn't mean to suddenly approach you so rudely. " there's a hint of shame apparent in her voice; to be so crass and randomly interrogate an innocent person all because of some baseless assumption they were a demon ....

she takes a deep breath, relieving her grip from her rapier to return her hands to her side. " forgive me. i shouldn't have presumed just because your presence was similar to one. though .... i could already tell you are not human either. " she cants her head, curiosity entangled in her gaze. " so ... who are you exactly ? "

[viteoublies]

👀 for ahmya and strange tbh.

FOREWORD INCOMING !!   accepting memes always!!    👀 if attractive   !!   from @wlfsbane

" well i can't say i haven't thought about specific situations i've found you in on occasion, " strange smiles with a smile that says enough.

[388sarc]

" it doesn't matter if i'm younger, i don't mind paying for your meal, dae - ho. " ♡ @wlfsbane

hands raise in palliative deflection, broad grin propping his cheeks high — he should take what they say more seriously, and perhaps he knows this. perhaps he's already embraced it as some universal truth. but it doesn't seem right. it's a kind gesture for a friend, a sort of chivalry ( should he ever deign to subscribe to some form of that ideology / neither what father nor sisters taught ever matched up to those archaic ideals ). ❛❛ c'mon, don't be ridiculous ! i should be the one paying for you. isn't that what friends are for ? ❜❜ ironic, isn't it ?

[troyfallen]

YOU   MUST   REMEMBER,   he   is   not   used   to   modern   wares.   only   as   old   as   he   was   when   he   first   fell   to   troy's   great   walls   (   &&   to   the   horror   of   many   )   there   is   nothing,   nothing   more   perplexing   to   him   than   the   modern   world.   the   gods   tremble   before   the   newfound   means   of   men   to   cause   torment. they   offer   him   all   manner   of   goods   &&   services,   all   manner   of   witnessing   horrid   thing   after   horrid   thing.   &&   yet,   they   exist   in   perpetual   unawares   of   the   worsened   state   of   affairs.   none   witness   monsters   the   way   he   does,   nor   do   they   regard   the   gods   as   anything   other   than   fairy-tales.   they   are   naive   in   their   oblivion,   but   he's   no   intention   of   breaking   their   fantasies. let   them   be   ignorant.   better   that   than   dead. it   comes   to   be   that,   through   word   of   mouth   or   particular   encounter,   he   finds   himself   at   a   morgue.   by   the   will   of   hades,   he's   to   check   to   see   if   someone   particular   is   in   the   care   of   the   powers   here;   gods   forbid   the   grave-lord   send   one   of   his   own,   or   any   other   reincarnated   soul   to   tend   to   these   affairs. so   he   stands,   waiting,   polite.   he's   no   idea   what   an   attendant   to   the   dead   looks   like,   really;   he's   had   (   thankfully   )   very   little   experience   with   them   as   of   late.   the   last   attendant   of   the   dead   he   met   was   thanatos,   after   all,   &&   it's   perhaps   for   the   best   that   he   has   not   encountered   that   soul   again. parked   out   front   is   a   motorcyle,   &&   adorned   'cross   his   shoulders   is   a   jacket   with   pointed   silver   spikes   'cross   the   edges.   fingerless   gloves,   jeans,   a   t-shirt   with   some   new   band's   logo   plastered   atop   it   -   he   is   indistinguishable   from   the   modern   man. beyond   the   sent   of   ambrosia   &&   death,   he   is   that   which   all   gods   envy:   mortal   (   at   least,   in   senses   alone   ).

@wlfsbane // starter call

[sunofel]

@wlfsbane #/ i will be making a supes verse for this u cannot stop me

:> teehee looking forward to it

[kn0ckout]

— 𖦹 IT  TAKES  a  while  for  him  to  come  to,  and  it  is  not  always  in  a  kindly  manner.  the  fact  of  the  matter  is  that  jay  never  quite  dies:  the  bastard  in  his  chest  keeps  him  alive,  forces  his  heart  to  get  beating  again.  puts  him  in  a  torpor,  lets  him  heal  bit  by  bit,  and  then  lets  him  wake  to  the  horrors  of  the  world  again  -  if,  that  is,  he  can  best  the  bastard.  it’s  never  that  he  dies  and  comes  back;  it’s  an  emergency  nap,  the  result  of  his  body  taking  a  little  too  much  strain  a  little  too  quickly,  be  it  from  other  forces  (it  rarely  ever  is)  or  from  the  pure  force  of  the  devil  wrecking  his  insides.   make  no  mistake:  he  can  be  killed.  this  is  the  one  thing  that  terrifies  both  occupants  of  his  body.   case  and  point,  the  last  time  he  woke  up  half-dead  and  healed,  he  had  been  unceremoniously  ditched  on  the  side  of  the  road.  his  wallet  had  been  stolen,  his  funds  with  it,  and  he  was  pretty  sure  that  neither  the  shirt  nor  pants  he  had  been  wearing  were  his  own.   this  time,  he’s  in  a  tight  space.  breath  comes  back  to  him  in  a  gasp,  and  he’s  immediately  aware  of  two  things:  the  first  is  that  it  is  cold  as  shit,  the  second  is  that  the  space  around  him  is  tight.  instinctively,  he  tries  to  roll  over.  no  dice:  the  space  is  tight  and  metallic  and  cold  and- oh,  jay  thinks,  morgue.  he  wriggles  and  presses  his  hands  to  the  space  behind  his  head,  and  pushes.  no  dice.  pushes  again.  nothing.  either  this  is  the  most  zombie-proof  morgue  he’s  ever  been  in,  or  he’s  still  recovering  from  whatever  happened  with  his  body  last  night.   with  options  limited  and  an  unwillingness  to  exert  himself  all  that  much,  jay  instead  takes  a  breath,  and  yells.   ❛  hey, i'm not dead in here !! ❜ if  anyone  outside  survives  the  immediate  heart-attack  they  may  get  from  hearing  that  come  from  a  morgue  slot,  it  might  just  be  his  ticket  to  getting  out.  

@wlfsbane liked for a starter

[stormfated]

@wlfsbane asked: “ i’ll still be here when you need me. that will never change. ” | ✧ 𓂅 deeper sentence starters.

thumbs  twiddle  as  her  gaze  focuses  on  the  ground.  raven's  words  are  so  kind  that  rayne  doesn't  think  she  can  meet  their  gaze.  why  would  anyone  want  to  stay  by  her  side?  and  they  don't  even  realize  that  by  doing  so,  they  could  be  in  danger.  still,  there's  an  ache  she  feels  at  the  thought  of  not  having  raven  around  and  she  struggles  with  trying  not  to  feel  guilty  about  it.

"what  if  .  .  .  i'm  always  going  to  need  you?"  she  still  doesn't  meet  their  gaze,  cheeks  burning  with  warmth.  rayne  isn't  used  to  being  selfish,  to  allowing  herself  to  want  things  — to  want  someone  at  her  side.