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@weelittlepatrick-blog
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i still don’t understand the phrase “luck of the irish” because the luck of the irish is, historically speaking, fucking terrible.
Jim: “Hey, Mary. Everything okay?” Mary: “Did you hear that Andrew Ryan took control of Fontaine Futuristics?! I’m hopping mad!” Jim: “Slow down there, little lady.” Mary: “Sorry, Jim, but I’m real upset. We came to Rapture to get away from government muscling in on private business people.” Jim: “Sure thing, Mary. But Andrew Ryan didn’t "take control” of anything. The government council just assumed stewardship of Fontaine Futuristics until all of Frank Fontaine’s crimes and betrayals against the people of Rapture are sorted out. Pretty soon, everything will be back to normal!“ Mary: "Really? Well, that’s a weight off my shoulders!” Jim: “Remember, Mary— doubting the Council only emboldens the bandits!”
✨ iconzinhos dos meus bebe jack and rose e uma header bônus ✨
luancleopatra or like if you save
I was selfish. You have to be selfish in here. That’s how you survive. People’s loyalty means nothing. Because the second you’re not useful to them, you’re out.
OITNB (via ffeebb)
It was at this point Roisin should probably have just given up on the whole thing, been the adult and not bothered really responding. But as the rest of this conversation showed, she was not really that good of an adult at all. So instead she decided to beat her head against a brick wall because she wasn’t ready to admit she was wrong. Not that she could totally remember why that was important, only that she didn’t want to admit she didn’t really know what she was talking about to a little kid.
“I ain’t saying you don’t have any empathy, I’m just sayin’ it don’t seem like ya do from what ya’ve said so far.” She said with a scowl, “That or ya just aren’t usin’ it.” She wasn’t even sure she was making sense to herself, but she was this far in, arguing with a child, so it didn’t seem likely she was going to stop. “Ya got ta use your empathy, put yourself in other’s shoes, try ta see how they feel.”
The boy made a face. Why would he wear other people’s shoes? He barely liked to take the time to tie his own shoes. And those fit his feet correctly. He wasn’t a fool. If he gave it half a second of thought he could no doubt figure out what was meant by the turn of phrase.
He chose not to.
“I think th’ problem’s that ya came from th’ surface. Ya ain’t th’ pure Rapture mindset that I do.”
He should apologize for being rude.
“I didn’t mean t’ upset ya’r nothin’. An’ I don’t mean that ya don’t know what you’re talkin’ ‘bout. I jus’ think ya don’t know me well ‘nough. That’s all.”
Patrick gdi. I know you understand metaphor quit being a little bitch about every thing. Just because you have some minor empathy issues doesn’t mean you don’t understand certain turn of phrase.
Brigid’s eyes focused in on Atlas at last, looking over his face slowly. Trying DESPERATELY to focus on his words, on the meaning behind him. The Sisters. Of course, she should have known. Should have known some… REBELLION leader would be nothing more than another Splicer desperate for a fix.
“I know much about the sisters. But wanting to tell you? Nothing.” Her breathing was still uneven, coming in broken gasps and deep inhalations. Did he truly believe that she would tell him…ANYTHING about her girls? And what exactly was it he even wanted to know?
To catch them, likely. Did he think she knew how to separate the girls from their protectors? Somehow, through all her pain, through the torture she had been subjected to, she managed to smile. To exhale the faintest laugh.
“You can… you cannot get to sisters, can you? Your men… nothing but splicers, and you are thinking… you can control them with ADAM?” Was she gloating? Her mind screamed at her to be sensible, to stop, to think. But that dark, broken, twisted up part of her wanted to PUSH. To see how far this man would go. “I have NOTHING to tell you.”
Bitch. Fucking bitch. Though the smile stayed on his lips darkness slipped in behind his eyes. A furious black flame that would burn Rapture to the ground if ever the young man lost control for even a moment. He stood up with a sigh, letting the chair slide away from him as he pushed it gently with a foot. This BITCH thought she could keep it from him?
A hand grabbed a fistful of the woman’s hair, jerking on it hard. Trying to wrench her head back. Expose her throat entirely. The smile gone at last when he looked down at her.
“I ain’t sure I made myself clear a moment ago. I ain’t askin’. I’m demandin’. Now, ya can either tell me how t’ get them Frankensteins ya created willin’ly. Or I can make ya damn well scream th’ answer.”
His free hand lit up in flames. He’d done very little splicing himself. But Incinerate had certainly been one of them. Oh, he’d ignore the comments about his men. He knew exactly what they were and how precarious his control over them was. But it didn’t matter. What mattered was the End. When he had Andrew Ryan hanging in his own twisted hall of traitors.
@weelittlepatrick·
With the way that he was reacting to her, it was becoming increasingly clear that, yes, he WASinterested. And Sweet Pea had to admit, he was much easier on the eyes (and ears, too) than a lot of the people she’d dealt with in the past. Might be nice to….change that.
She couldn’t help the little laugh that left her at his words; she was genuinely amused, instead of simply pretending to be whatever she thought her companion might want her to be.
“But what if I wanted to teach them to YOU?” she asked, voice a low purr, even as she reached out, running a hand over one of his suspenders, as though to straighten it. Really, she’d just wanted touch him, to see if that might …. ENCOURAGE him at all.
@starcftheshow
Oh fuck it all! She was a succubus. He’d heard fairy tales or the like about those. Beautiful women who stole men’s souls or something when they had sex. That was this woman. Patrick was certain of it. With that seductive little laugh. And that absolutely delectable body. And the touching him. Oh... Oh he could think of a few better places she could touch if she was so inclined.
His hands moved to the woman’s waist. Eyes staying fixed on her face as he ran his thumbs in small circles. He could be good. He was totally not doing anything. Certainly nothing he had to pay for. Limited funds.
“Well... If ya wanna teach me I’d flattered for one thin’. I’d be concerned though. I jus’ ain’t rich like some a th’ people down ‘ere. Not sure I can afford t’ take private lessons.”
“Yes because hurrying medical procedures never killed anyone.” Alesea said sarcastically pulling out a needle and thread along with some tweezers from her bag. Again theoretically she could do this, and she did sow up corpses all the time, and how hard could it be to get a bullet out? Then again the dead did not move and they didn’t much care how often she messed up.
Plus if he was in such a hurry she bet he wasn’t planning to wait long enough for any sort of pain medication to take effect, so that meant greater chance of him moving her screwing up and him bleeding to death. Maybe she should have just let him leave after all. Still she was supposed to be a doctor so it was her duty to patch him up, plus the whole paying her thing, that definitely helped.
“Alright stick your arm out and hold as still as you can, otherwise there’s a good chance I could slip and mess up something important and then you’ll die anyway. Also might want to bite down on something, unless I can convince you to wait for some painkillers to kick in?”
“How long’re pain thin’s gonna take?” Patrick would take the truth to his grave, but he wasn’t exactly fond of pain. In fact, the revolutionary had been known to be rather pathetic when it came to being hurt. The fact that he was sitting here, bleeding out, calmly probably should have been a red flag of some nature. Maybe adrenaline? He didn't care much.
“Regardless,” The young man stuck his arm out, dropping the blood-soaked towel to the floor. “I ain’t sure I got nothin’ t’ bite on. So ya might as well jus’ get on wit’ it Doc. How bad can it be right? No worse’n gettin’ shot. An’ I already did that for ya.”
Every time I go to write for Adult Pat I have to go back to whatever I did LAST time and find out if he’s Patlas or not. >.< Somehow I almost never can recall when he’s off his rocker or not. Good job Mun.
Loretta | Patrick
Loretta sighed and rolled her eyes. “Wrong way; the Suites are through that airlock.” She pointed toward an old busted door leading to one of the many sprawing tunnels connecting Rapture together. “We gotta go through that door, turn left and keep going.”
Then, without waiting for him to respond she sauntered off. She knew he was still there thogh - it was impossible to ignore his twenty questions. Why was he so curious anyway? Weren’t Brothers spposed to have all that removed from them?
She went to huff out a reply - of course she didn’t miss being a Sister! - but his next question caught her off guard. Stopping in her tracks, Loretta turned her gold-brown eyes to him with a deep scowl. “I miss Mr Bubbes - my Knight. He was the only family I had. But if the only way to get him back is to be a Sister again, then I guess I’ll never have him back.”
Then, without another word Loretta pressed forward, stalking ahead of him and into the glass panelled tunnel.
Girls were weird. That was the only conclusion he could draw. He’d known Little Sisters were dumb. Stupid brats who stole ADAM and Daddies and made everything terrible. But girls.... if this one was like every girl... were weird. They seemed to get mad over nothing. And they walked away even though he was the one with a sword. And they insisted that they didn’t like being Little Sisters even though it meant losing their Daddies forever and ever.
The boy rushed forward to catch up with her. A grin on his lips. He liked it. She was so much more fun than Little Sisters. All Little Sisters did was color and be dumb.
“I like you.” The Little Brother declared, absently letting his metal bat scrape along the wall of the tunnel. Banging against the glass when its path was interrupted by metal for a moment. The banging echoing up one end of the hall and down the other.
“Ya know. If you’d been a Little Sister, I’d’a hit ya. Really hard. For being a Knight sealer. But I like ya. So I’m gonna forgive ya for used t’ bein’ a Little Sister.”
Archer gave a hard grunt as the child barreled right into his legs. A wince as he broke into a half moon and pushed the child off by the shoulders, sucking in a breath and putting on a smile. “Patrick… what… did I tell you about hanging around here?”
He finally stood and gave him that knowing disappointed look. “Were you snooping around again? You know your mother will kill me if I don’t take you right home.”
Snooping was a strong word for it. Loitering around in places that he wasn’t supposed to be. That was a better term if one asked the young blond. Though, the way his blue-green eyes looked anywhere but at the pale adult and he shifted back and forth on his feet it was clear he understood he was in trouble. Again.
“I don’t remember ya tellin’ me nothin’.” Liar. “An’ I don’t see how come Mum’s gotta know anythin’ since I ain’t done nothin’ wrong. I told ya. I didn’t do it. Or it was an accident.”
Down the corridor security bots were whirring. Flying closer by the second. Patrick trying to carefully get loose of Archer’s hold so that he could definitely NOT use him as a human shield...
We have a new girl for you tonight. Something extra special. It is a work-in-progress… so I apologise in advance for the RAW nature of the performance. I will say, however… that is part of the CHARM.
It is my pleasure to introduce to you… this little BABY DOLL.