Cardinal @thecardinalassassin - Tumblr Blog

Natalie Dormer attends the Roksanda show during London Fashion Week Fall/Winter 2015/16 at Seymour Hall on February 23, 2015 in London, England.

#visage

Monet

art-of-swords-deactivated201705

Kastane Sword

Place of Origin: Ceylon

Measurements: 26½ inches (67.3cm)

The sword has a carved horn grip in the form of a dragon head, gilt bronze quillion hilt and a steel blade.

#favs #little assassin things

tobiasforms

#favs

art-of-swords-deactivated201705

Khanjar Dagger with Sheath

Dated: 18th century

Culture: Ottoman

Medium: Steel, jade, gold, velvet, gemstone

Measurements: H. with sheath 20 in. (50.8 cm); H. without sheath 18 1/2 in. (47 cm); H. of blade 13 1/4 in. (33.7 cm); W. 3 1/8 in. (7.9 cm); D. 15/16 in. (2.4 cm); Wt. 15.2 oz. (430.9 g); Wt. of sheath 4.6 oz (130.4 g)

#favs #want

sspaceweaselaesthetic-deactivat

#visage

horrorgorewhore

#little assassin things #cw: blood

reflexes

brxkenpetal

☁MASTURBATION TIPS☁

#little assassin things

taintedecho

Echo had tended to countless injuries on her team. But very rarely did she have to help with bullet holes, or other injuries from man-made devices. Modern day Seekers had begun to carry them around for the creatures that weren’t magickal such as they—vampires, werewolves, shifters, etc.—but they still felt foreign in the hands of many. After all, they were used to their hands being open and free, being able to deflect blows or deal them out with ease. Holding something slowed her down a bit. She had never understand the appeal of guns to humans, why they seemed to call for them so often. Something so destructive and horrendous, in her mind, should never have been invented at all. But that was the mind of a peaceful girl with too high hopes and too peaceful views. Not many people understood her.

She cringed to watch the other girl limp, so injured and weakened. She could sense the dark vibrations dripping off her like waves, filling the house. She would have to use ample sage to cleanse later on, but that was—clearly—the very least of her worries.

Figuring out who sent her here would be next on the agenda, after helping her. It was not good for a witch to be identified like this. And if this girl was somehow involved with heavy violence, Echo didn’t need her bringing that into her home. Her aunt lived her, her younger cousin. Anything that brought danger to them needed to be eradicated. But she was never one to turn down a person in need.

"Stay right here—er, not that it’d be plausible for you to run off anyway." She thought about mentioning that she didn’t accept payment—because she didn’t, ever, it would be disrespectful to the God and Goddess—but that could be dismissed later. She raced up to her room and grabbed her satchel, a handful of candles, raw fluorite, a small hand towel, and a simple tumeric poultice. She jogged back down and placed the items down beside her, kneeling at the end of the couch. She reached over and gingerly plucked the girl’s shirt up. "I’ll need you to hold this." She handed her the fluorite and then began searching in her satchel for sea salt.

"Extraction of the bullets shouldn’t cause you too much pain, but there will be more blood,” she gently explained as she folded the towel and placed it beside the wounds.

thecardinalassassin

Pain fueled Scarlet. She lets herself get hit during fights, the adrenaline that rushes through her, and the anger that follows it, makes her stronger. This is what made her so dangerous. This is what made her a great assassin. Yet, Scarlet winced as the women pulled up her shirt revealing the wound. The pain that shot through her body didn’t give her that adrenaline rush, this wasn’t what fueled her. This is what brought her down, this is what reminded her that she wasn’t invincible, and she hated it.

The blonde handed her a green and purple stone, and instructed her to hold it. She examined in her hand, confused. What purpose would a stone serve in pulling out these damned bullets and stitching her up?

Scarlet shrugged at the women’s comment about the blood while still examining the stone.

“Eh that’s fine, nothin new.” She said trying to hide her nervousness. Scarlet was somewhat of an expert at masking her feelings, especially around strangers, doing otherwise could get her killed. Unfortunately, she already revealed her pain to the blonde, which put her in a vulnerable position, she wasn’t about to make it worse.

“What’s this for anyway?” She asked the girl, holding up the stone to her, balancing it between her thumb and index finger. She was guessing it was for her to grip for the pain, but by judging the objects that the women came running over with, she wasn’t so sure. Between the stones and the candles, the only real medical instrument here was the towel. A towel. This was exactly why Scarlet never sought out help. Out of all the times she was horribly injured and required legitimate medical care, she never once went to a professional. This one time she caves, and finally goes to someone who knows what they’re doing, this happens. She didn’t know who this stranger was, or what she did, but she sure as hell wasn’t a doctor.

#echopara #taintedecho #8 years later i reply

supersecretsquirrelsin-deactiva

flaws/strengths - bold which applies to your character

thecardinalassassin

#life

waitingfordoomsday

I am what I am. To look for ‘reasons’ is beside the point.

Joan Didion, Play It As It Lays

#thoughts

taintedecho

When it came to working as a Seeker, you were a triple threat, or you were at the bottom of the pyramid. That was what witches needed to survive. That was what they had to become. Echo, luckily, had been blessed with numerous, so no matter which way you swung it, she was a triple threat across the board. A healer, a fighter, a master manipulator. She had big blue eyes and a sweet, lilting voice—perfect for convincing people of things that were not true. She hated being dishonest, she really did. But that was the way the world worked. And she preferred to be on the defense rather than the offense—an odd sort of morality thing, really—but again, life was never so kind and giving.

Her favorite of her three top talents was the one listed first—healer. Her magick had many wonderful facets to it, but she considered this to be the most helpful. The ability to cure people of ailments, to aid those with broken legs or bruised ribs. And as she further developed this power, she swore to never let anyone in need go without her assistance.

And… that did mean anyone.

When a knock was heard in the early—or late, depending on how you thought of it—hours, she was still up. Hadn’t been able to sleep from her mission this morning. Her guard flared and she rose from the kitchen table, setting her journal down and stepping towards the door. She pulled it open slowly, eyes widening ever so slightly at the girl before her. And then they became full moons when she saw her injury.

"Come inside." She ushered her in without a word, locking the door behind her and shaking her head. "Sit, please." She blinked to try and get the confusion out of her gaze, but honestly, it was hard to pretend she was anything but startled.

thecardinalassassin

This wasn’t the first time Scarlet had been seriously injured. She had been stabbed, brutally beaten, thrown out of a third story window, and brutally whipped. But never once did she go to a hospital, or see any doctor for that matter, and she wasn’t about to now. She usually would suck it up until she got back home where Archer would hand her a towel to bite on while he cleansed her wounds with some expensive vodka and stitched her up. This time was different. She was far from home, and her wounds were more serious, she would require actual medical attention. Two bullets were wedged inside her body, they needed to be taken out immediately, and her wounds needed to be stitched up before she bled out.

“Thanks,” Scarlet said limping into the house, her voice sounded hoarse and strained. She was in an immense amount of pain that was only getting worse.

The house itself was warm and inviting, the peaceful atmosphere confused her. She assumed this women would be some back alley surgeon with a rejected medical license. Someone who typically worked with criminals, someone with a strict “don’t ask, don’t tell” policy. Never did she think this person would be a pretty blonde girl with a beautiful, pristine home, who looked absolutely terrified by the blood practically pouring out of her body. Immediately walking into the house she was confronted with a large, open living room (with a beautiful couch that was calling her name) that connects to a gorgeous kitchen with a big island. She approached the long couch that looked so inviting, and lobbed her body onto it, wincing. She suddenly became aware of exactly how exhausted she was. She didn’t know if it was because of the blood loss or the grueling walk over here.

“I took two shots to the right side of my abdomen, the bullets don’t seem to be too deep in, definitely extractable, but they hurt like hell. Don't worry, I can pay.” Scarlet said, her voice sounding even more strained than before. If she didn’t pass out from the blood loss, she was going to from the pain.

#echopara #taintedecho

Scarlet limped towards the house. Every step she took brought on a new level of pain. She knew she shouldn’t have provoked the man, who she knew readily had a gun, but her arrogance had gotten the best of her. Of course, taking two bullets to the abdomen wasn’t new to her, but last time this had happened she had the advantage of being in a familiar place with one of her brothers. This wasn’t the case this time around. She was unfamiliar with her surroundings, and she didn’t know a soul in the town she was currently in. She was completely alone. Pain shot through the whole right side of her body, she tried to focus on her breathing.

In for three seconds, out for four; in for four seconds, out for five...

She continued this until she reached the door which was only about ten feet away now, but felt more like a mile. When she finally got there she knocked urgently and loudly. It was four o’clock in the morning, she doubted the young women who lived here was still awake, but if she didn’t get her wounds stitched up soon she was going to bleed out. The door swung open and the young blonde who she was told lived here stood in the door way. Scarlet smirked and carefully lifted her blood soaked shirt, revealing her wounds,

“I was told you could help me with this sorta thing.”