dinosaurswanted-blog

[dinosaurswanted-blog]

In the frenetic stream of consciousness that comprised the young scientist's life  there were few places he felt anything he would remotely describe as 'tranquility'. There was a certain amount of peace in constant movement, certainly, but calm often eluded the range of experience of his day to day life. Except here. The library. To be clear, it wasn't always the case, sometimes the library was...well. just a library. Just another room of books and data for him to dig through in his unyielding quest for knowledge...but then, too, there were times like this. Times when the soft hush of order settled over the space and forced even his mind to mellow. As much as it was possible anyway. Especially now, after the mugging, everything seemed to put him on edge, brushing up on the edge of his awareness like the ghost you see out of the corner of your eye that turns out to be nothing at all. 

He traced the well worn spines of the books before him, a new scifi display, trying to focus on the feel of the vinyl and bump of embossed titles rather than the way his mind circled that blank space of time he couldn't quite piece together. He should remember some of it, shouldn't he? Any of it? The muggers' faces or...their voices... Pax winced as his mind sharply withdrew from the thought. What had happened? What was so painful that he couldn't...wouldn't remember it? Even with a concussion he should, right? There were no brain bleeds, no lingering trauma - A low rumbled greeting jerked him from his thoughts, heart spiking in instinctual panic as he jumped, teleporting a few inches back like  a blip on a tv screen. Ow.

Bringing his good hand to rest over his racing heart he turned to face the source of the sound, Just Mr Olusola. Adjusting his sling slightly over still healing collarbone, he let out a breath to settle himself, half grin crossing his features as he fidgeted, “H-ey, Mr. Olusola. Just...just bad luck I guess. I got...attacked, uh, mugged a couple weeks ago... Just thought I'd find some books on amnesia and stuff, y'know, maybe figure out why I can't remember like anything from then, because I usually remember everything, but... I don't know, it's just...yeah, anyways, dude, you guys changed a lot around here, huh? It's pretty cool, did you do the scifi display? Or was that Margie? It's wicked – Oh sorry, loud, but yeah. Awesome.”

{ @dinosaurswanted }

there was peace in the silence.  bronson enjoyed semi-quiet of the library.  the soft sound of pages turning, the shuffling of students through the area and the sighs of books being opening were things that kept him happy.  there were plenty of things to learn in the library.  

bronson stood comfortably behind the librarian’s desk.  there were piles of books to sort through, things to shuffle around with.  he busied himself with writing down the names and titles, finding ways to properly organize them - organization was key to maintaining a balance.  occasionally, someone came by to ask a question and on the more rare occasion, someone will ask a question about karneval.  then he would smile and hand them a note card with a book location.  then, there were those times when he would notice someone who came through that caught his attention.

the boy was young but had the brilliance of someone much older.  bronson kept tabs on everyone and if he couldn’t, he had people that could do it for him.  he walked over to where the young assistant professor had wandered to.

“it seems we meet again, dr. balfour,” bronson greeted the teenager.  the orunmila cast a glance at the boy and he blinked, narrowing his eyes at the surrounding aura of the younger man.  his expression twisted in mild confusion as he realized what had bee put on the teenager.  “hm,” he hummed as he looked on, “it seems that something has happened recently.  has everything been alright with you?”

[dinosaurswanted-blog]

The young scientist swallowed thickly as he saw the tremors begin to rattle through his friend, the hitched way his lungs struggled for breath as fear and confusion rolled off him in waves. Shaking his head he pushed aside the usual insistence that he leave, the other boy was always trying to protect him from...well, himself, he supposed. The need to help rose up in his chest, clenching around his heart and filling him with that brand of stubborn determination that had gotten him in trouble on more than one occasion. Probably what had gotten him mugged in the first place. At least...that's what the tattered pieces of his memory would suggest. That he had wanted to help someone so bad that he had taken this kind of beating and gotten himself mugged...that maybe the same thing had happened to Isaac except....except the way Isaac reeled was like a man who had just shrunk back into his human shell from being a werewolf or Dr Jekyll returning from his rampage as Mr. Hyde. Maybe he had – maybe it was the drugs. “I'm not going anywhere, man. You're really in bad shape -”

He frowned at the words. Whatever he had seen? Wasn't him? “ How...how wasn't it you? Um... Have you been trying new drugs or something, man? It's okay if you have, no judgement, just – I know someone who can help. I mean I can help, but we can...look anything you've done or like..you did on drugs...it's going to be okay. Let's get you warm first and out of here..” Slinging his bag back over his good shoulder, he started towards the bus stop, pausing only at the questions, tensing slightly before shaking his head, “ Wha- oh. No...um...I was mugged. Honestly, I don't remember a lot...really bad concussion I guess.” He offered a half shrug at that before a thought occurred to him, “Did you leave anything? Like maybe in that alley? We should check it out.” Teleporting past him towards the mouth of the alley, his sneakers skidded to a stop on the pavement as his eyes caught up with the rest of him. Coat...check...On a... “DUDE HOLY FREAK!” Bile welled up in his throat slightly as he backpedaled a bit at the sight of the gore, alarms going off in his head for his friend's safety and his own. Run, run, run. HOW WAS THIS HIS LIFE? Holy cheeseballs, what the heck?

dinosaurswanted‌:

Energy was never in short supply for Paxton. Well, not never – there would be days where he couldn’t do so much as pull himself off the couch, but today? Now? Nervous fervor buzzed through his veins like an electric current dropped in a vat of coffee – make that iced coffee. Geez. The brunette tugged the worn fabric of his hoodie tighter about himself as a shiver rolled through him – Now which way was the conference center? Three blocks up, left, right? Three blocks up, right, right? Yikes. It’s cool, it’s fine, I’ve got this – c'mon, this is easy. Easy peasey, easy as cake, easy as pie, eas – man, pie sounded good. Lemon pie? No, no, coconut cream pie, ugh with toasted almonds – Wait. What was I doing? Oh. Yeah. Dude, focus. Another shiver rolled through him as he glanced up at the cloud riddled aubergine sky, foot jittering against the metal flooring as he waited for the bus to finally creak to a halt, outdated hydraulic whoosh signaling the doors had finally opened. Slowly, too slowly the other passengers began to shuffle out of their seats and towards the doors, no one paying any mind to the boy with his arm in a sling and a ratty backpack bouncing to his feet to try to join the line.  Come on, come on, come on, go, go, go - He needed to get out out that metal tube now. Too much, too slow and – ACHOO – too cold. He could feel the energy fizzing its way through him, looking for a way out looking for…anything. Stormy eyes flitted to the city outside and he could almost smell the night rain in the air, wishing he could feel the pavement beneath his feet. And then, suddenly, with a soft pop, he did.

Blinking, startled as rain water hit his cheek his features bloomed into a grin, lungs releasing a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding. Turning to look down the empty street his heart fluttered: it had been so long since he’d stretched his powers…he had time before the seminar, but ever since the mugging…the next shudder wasn’t due entirely to the cold.  It was just a little stretch, anyways. Unc- Nic wouldn’t have to know…I mean. Not unless I’m late to the seminar. Drawing in a chilled breath, he steeled his nerve. Fortune favours the brave, man. He could feel the energy revving up in his core, begging for an outlet, filling him with that incredible rush and daring him forward, to see how far he could go.

…Six. Six rapid fire teleportations. Six flash steps down two city blocks, tasting the crackle of lightening in the air but – wait. That…that’s not right. Rubber soles skidded to a stop at the mouth of an alley. There, dimly illuminated by the yellow of the street light was a familiar form – Isaac. Pax winced as the older boy began to heave, the kind of violent wretching that comes from emptying your stomach from the cold sweat of panic sliding down your esophagus. His own bruises stood out stark in the faint glow of city light where he froze, arm and collarbone protesting painfully at the lack of momentum and again as his feet drew him towards the scene in a soft jog. Good hand stopping midair he hesitated,  dread and concern making his heart catch in his chest at the sight of his friend, Had Isaac been attacked too? His voice was still slightly croaky when he finally found it, lingering edges of roughness from where his attacker’s hand had apparently clutched tight enough to damage clinging to his words around a squeaky crack at the start,  “H-hey – Isaac – dude, are you okay? What are you doing here? Dude where’s your coat, it’s going to storm soon – hey, let’s…let’s get you somewhere warm. here wait – take mine -” He dropped his pack to the ground and began to roughly unzip it with one hand to dig out the spare jacket his godmother insisted on.

Isaac was no stranger to fear–he’d live in it’s grasps for most of his life, and this moment was no different. Fear took hold of his entire being as he stood there, emptying the contents of his stomach onto the wet ground, his entire body retching. Once the heaving seemed to stop, his straightened his back a little, but his whole body shook slightly, tremors racking through him with the edge of withdrawal reminding him what he needed. The voice that broke the silence around him made him jump, eyes shifting defensively to the owner of the voice. Shoulders relaxed slightly seeing Paxton, a boy he’d come to know fairly well when he dealt, though he’d refused to sell him anything stronger than weed. 

“Fuck, Pax, what the fuck are you doing here.” eyes dart around, heart pounding, worried that the boy had witnessed what had happened prior to him coming back. He wasn’t exactly sure what had gone down, but with the body that lay crumpled in the street still within their view, he could deduct what had happened. “Dude, fuck, I swear… whatever you saw, that wasn’t me.” His words tumbled out of his mouth with shaking breath, not really thinking about what he was saying. “You-you shouldn’t be here Pax, you really shouldn’t.” He swallows, a hand running over his arm, suddenly all too aware of how the cool air was hitting his bare arms, the dim moonlight shining off of the scars that still covered his arms, evidence of what he’d been put through for four years. He didn’t have time to think about why Kohl had found a way to heal their hands, but not the wounds that held such awful memories. 

Arms cross as though they would hide the ugly scars, jaw tensing. “No, Pax, it’s fine, just.. you shouldn’t be here.” He worked to control the shakiness of his voice and kept his fingers tense to keep them from quivering. Aches ran through his bones, and sweat was already pricking on the back of his neck and his forehead. His head spun with disorientation, not knowing exactly where he was, or when he was. How long had it been since Kohl took over? What happened after the invasion? Questions flooded his mind, as he stood there, his body now shaking beyond his control. Eyes worked to focus in front of him, narrowing slightly when Paxton straightened up, suddenly seeing the sling his arm was resting in, the bruises on the young boy’s face shining angrily. “Pax… what happened…” He breathed the words weakly, keeping his feet planted, scared to get too close to the boy. “Was that.. did you get hurt in the invasion?” 

[dinosaurswanted-blog]

Looking down to the stack in his arms he could see what she meant, duh, c'mon, wonderkid. A laugh fluttered up past the butterflies in his chest, “ Oh..yeah, I mean I have my backpack, but I guess that would be like – like the mouse in Cinderella with the pieces of corn?” He didn't know why that was funny,  yet he couldn't help giggling slightly at the image. Excitement thrummed through him, popping to his feet in a minor teleportation, starting to walk backwards towards the checkout desk to maintain eye contact, skipping slightly, mouth and heart running away from his brain as both bounced from thought to thought,  “Yeah? We can go to the dorm courtyard. Whoa – you, you have a mutation? That's so cool! Actually, that's kinda what these are for, I mean not strictly, but I have a bet with one of the PhD students I supervise that dinosaurs totally could have developed the power to speak. Well, Godzilla could anyways, which is kinda different, but also not really completely different. That's what I do here – teach and research, not weird gambling, but also a lot of weird gambling because science is kinda all a weird gamble. Hey, you should totally come do science here, do you do science? I love science, well, of course I love science. But especially science dealing with mutations because how cool is that. So... um...I'd love to see your powers. No one ever shows me their powers – Nic kinda does, he's my supervisor kinda, but his is just like...he's super smart so. It's not a show and tell power. It just kinda...is. I bet yours is really cool though. Um...Telekinesis? Or wait like...Chlorokinesis? You seem like you'd be like..really good with flowers. Is that weird? Like superpowered flower child vibes I guess, if that makes sense, which like super cool.”

dinosaurswanted‌:

His heart fluttered up into his chest at the lingering eye contact before it broke at the sound of the curious outburst, laugh bubbling up from his throat in surprise even as the sound of his own heartbeat flooded his ears, “YEAH!” Too high, too loud. Flush darkening across his features as he cleared the dryness from his throat, eyes widening as embarrassment seemed to settle over her words, rushing to reassure her,  “Uh..yeah. No, no, no – hey, whoa, dude, I talk about my powers all the time, I mean not all the time, like I’m not obsessed with talking about them, like I’m not Gaston or anything but I mean it’s cool here. Other countries too, it’s way more acceptable to be, uh, ‘gifted’ or ‘mutated’ or whatever you wanna call it.” 

Blinking, he looked down at the book being offered to him. Oh yeah. There were books. What was he reading about again? Lizards? Wizards? Geez, she’s…really, really cute. Crap. Be cool, dude. Taking it gingerly he felt the frenetic energy thrumming through him pop-skip before settling into something softer, words tumbling out as he met that warm gaze again, “Thanks…h-hey, …I’m Pax….” DUDE. Nose scrunching slightly as he shook his head a bit, attempting to throw off the awkwardness and force his brain to kickstart a save, “What I meant was hey, it’s nice to meet you. If you want I could help you uh carry these…and show you some more teleporting stuff?”

Her palms clammed up a little as the boy talked, his words coming out just as scattered and flustered at hers, but in that moment she didn’t seem to notice. A small laugh escaped her lips along with his, his voice filling the quiet air of the library perhaps just a little too loud, but she didn’t mind. She bites her lower lip, eyes flicking up and down between the boy and the books, not sure where to land. Her mouth spread into a smile when he spoke about his power, a bit a relief settling over her. She tilts her head, brows furrowing for a moment… “Gaston?” She asks before she realizes she shoulder–yet another reference she didn’t get. 

“Yeah um… where I’m from people weren’t so nice when it came to powers. It really sucked.” She bit her lip again, trying not to focus her gaze on him too long, her heart skipping a little. The book passed between nervous hands became the focus of Clementine’s gaze, eyes skittering across the title but not really taking it in. What was it she’d come here for again? Right… books from this century. Her hands found their way to gather the young adult fiction she’d found, trying to keep herself focused on something other than the cute boy that was in front of her. 

“I’m Clementine.” She finally brought her eyes back up, meeting the hazel of his that seemed to invite her in with a kindness she found comfort in. “It’s really nice to meet you too.” Her eyes widen a little at his offer, excitement getting the better of her. “Really? Wow, um, I mean, you don’t need to carry my books, it looks like you’ve got a ton of your own… you must have some huge school project or something. But really, it’s fine, I got these.” She shuffles the stack of books in her arms, not sure how the other would even manage with her small haul on top of his. She stands, straightening her stance with the books now in her arms. “But I mean, I’d really love to see more of the teleportation stuff…” She pauses for a moment, unable to help herself from over sharing. “I um, I could show you my power too… if you’d like” 

[dinosaurswanted-blog]

The world looked so different upsidedown, like a fun mirror land of dinosaurs walking on the ceiling and somehow Han Solo seeming about ten feet tall on that poster across the room. Or, y'know, maybe that was just the weed, though he wasn't entirely sure he was feeling it yet. Was he? Was this just that intermediate hyper aware stage of getting high where he was all too focused on everything around them and Whoa man were Des's legs REALLY that long? Maybe they just grow people taller in England – Nic was tall, Des was tall...that was about it for the expats he knew. That poster of the Beatles he saw at the poster fair had made John Lennon seem tallish. That had to count, right? Yeah, why not? 

Des had been saying something in that twisted accent of his, forcing the young super scientist to turn from where he was hanging backwards off the bed - which hey, yeah, sure, maybe he shouldn't do that with his arm in a splint and his still sore ribs but whatever, he wasn't that kind of doctor- eyes widening and giggling at the insult to his digs as he took the joint, “DUDE, not all of us do like the Little Orphan Annie thing and find our real super rich dad whose like...made of money. Like literally probably bleeds dollar bills. Or wears them. Uncle Frank would so wear a suit just made of hundreds or like lined with hundreds like you can't tell me he doesn't have one, have you seen his lab? There's a cupboard full of BRAINS. I mean, if I had a cupboard it would probably be full of like cheetos and poptarts, but hey brains are good too for like...sciencing...or eating if you're a zombie. Do you think Uncle Frank's a zombie like...on the side? I wonder if you could be a part time zombie like...normal human on the regular and then BAM eating brains on the down low.” 

Pausing, he attempting to bring the joint to his lips, tilting his head as it didn't seem to work no matter how he approached it. Finally, he flipped slowly onto his stomach, wincing slightly before grinning as he was finally able to take a drag, coughing slightly when he sucked too deep before passing it back. Like magic the pain started to ebb from his bruised body and broken bones. “Man, cheetos sound AMAZING. OH DUDE. Under the bed” Scrambling slightly he dug around under the dorm bunk, crowing triumphantly when his fingers closed around the plastic bags, tugging them out, “– AH HAH – Bam. Check it! Thanks Past Pax, what a dude. Do they have cheetos in England? Do they call them something cool like Whosits? Thingamabobs? Dude, we should go to England and compare like. High snacks. ” 

Des found himself situated on the floor of a small dorm room, back leaning against the bed, one leg sprawled straight along the floor, the other bent. With a joint perched between two fingers, Des lolled his head back, resting it against the bed, a stupid grin playing on his lips. He’d met Paxton a little while back, shortly after being reunited with his father, and despite the age difference, the two found themselves spending a significant amount of time together. Desmond liked the chaotic energy that the younger boy gave off, very similar to his own. The room was lined with posters, and his eyes scanned over them not really taking in what was on them. He’d insisted to Pax that the pair of them needed to get high because… well, because he was bored. Reaching his hand over to Pax, he offers the joint to the younger boy. “Bit of a dump they gave you here, innit?” 

@dinosaurswanted

[dinosaurswanted-blog]

Everything drifted in and out in a dozy sort of slow motion, even when he closed his eyes he could feel the room warping in dreamlike surreality. Soft, warm pressure tangling briefly through this hair filtering into his consciousness. The blankets on top of him were heavy, weighing down his limbs – was that why he couldn’t move them? He hadn’t remembered tucking himself in, getting back to his dorm…getting a weighted blanket for that matter. Blearily he tried opening his eyes again – just a little further – since when had his room had dancing giraffes on the wall and…a tv…lights…too light, wow, ow. Dizzily, he choked back the bile that welled in his throat, turning his head to the side groggy from- Nope, no, whoa, bad…bad idea. He screwed his eyes shut again, mind a fog as he tried to piece together what had happened, where he was, why his stomach had decided to cower in his throat in that funny ‘too many corndogs to hang upside down like this’ kinda way. He tried again, hazel eyes fixing on the form attached to that gentle push through his hair and startling, heart hammering in his chest against broken ribs – how did they get in his room? Wait was this his room? No, no it wasn’t – why was he in someone elses room and -…’Aunt V?’

 His voice came out in a hoarse croak he didn’t recognize, confused and small and…raspy. It hurt when he tried to swallow back the sudden surge of fear  - Why was he afraid, why was he here – in the hospital??- His arm was tucked tight against his chest in a sling, buffered by layers of plaster, immobilizing shattered bone and cracked collarbone. Ribs afforded no such protection or comfort as he slowed his breathing beneath the fading blur of morphine. His voice caught again in his throat, shaking slightly, but comforted by the familiar presence. He was safe. Vera was here. Aunt V would protect him – she would know what to do,    ‘ …Aunt V…w-what happened?’

Date:  Saturday, July 28th, 2018. Time: 4:56 pm. Location: Ceres Hospital. Availability: Paxton Balfour.

Vera wasn’t planning on answering her cellphone. She never does - it’s always been a habit of hers, or rather, not a habit? For the most part, it was Vera screening calls: reminders of business meetings that were ahead for the week. And yet, when her phone begins to ring for a second time immediately after ending the call, she clocks into her intuition. Something was wrong. Her brows furrowed slightly as she stares at the unknown number for a moment longer before picking up.

That was thirty minutes ago. Thirty minutes since Paxton had been emitted in the hospital. Thirty minutes of Vera weaving in and out of traffic. Thirty minutes of Vera leaving texts messages and voicemails for Nicholas to receive later. He had never been good at answering texts or phone calls. Now she was thinking she would have to install an emergency notification system into his prosthetic arm. 

“Paxton Balfour. What room.” She demands breathlessly while coming up to the secretary. ‘Um… I can’t give you that information, unless you’re family -’

“He’s my son!” She snaps quickly, then blinks in surprise before quickly rephrasing. “My Godson… He’s my Godson…” There’s a quiet moment where both the secrtary and the ceo stare at one another. Then, ’Room three-zero-six,  - but ma’am’ Vera doesn’t give the woman enough time finish her sentence, she hardly stopped herself. And instead of taking the elevator, Vera uses the stairs, skipping two and three steps at a time. She walks into his room and freezes, seeing him in the hospital bed - seeing him look so fragil and small. She does her best in ignoring the heaviness that weighs down her heart. Vera closes the door behind her and takes her phone out one last time to leave Nicholas a message. She turns her back to face the wall. “I made it to the hospital. I’m with him… I’ll have my phone off by the time you hear this… Get here when you can." Her previous voicemails had an edge to them, annoyed that Nicholas wasn’t picking up. This time around, there was a softer tone. Nicholas would find out what happened soon enough, and he would be here. With a small, shaky sigh, Vera turns off her phone and throw it into her purse that is then place on the floor. There’s a moment where she stays like this, looking at the wall in order to collect herself. She didn’t want to sob all over the poor boy. He’s already been through enough. He didn’t need to see that.

Inhaling deeply, Vera moves to stand beside’s Paxton’s sleep induced form. Leaning against the railing, delicate brushes of her fingers sweeping through the front of his hair.

[dinosaurswanted-blog]

Number 13: Does your muse believe any superstitions?

��Don’t step on a crack or you’ll break your mother’s back’

‘Don’t walk under a ladder’

‘A broken mirror is 7 years bad luck’

He’s done all of them and thought ‘Oh fudge’ immediately after. He then hastily tries to clean up whatever it was or undo it ‘before the universe sees y’know? DUDE whatever I don’t know how magic works’

[dinosaurswanted-blog]

Needles: Does your muse have a strong stomach?

It depends - he’ll say yes, what he means is ‘I’ve seen Alien a LOT and I like to think I can handle all kinds of weird science mishaps’. What is not included: Oh say a room full of students murdering each other in some kind of fun battle royale. Or those drinks kids mix that are full of any condiments they can get their hands on. Because of course - of course - he has to drink those. For science. 

[dinosaurswanted-blog]

☃ What they wear around the house

Hoodies, joggers, t-shirts that are most definitely older than him and therefore the softest things he has ever stolen. Yes, stolen. Kid wonder has a habit of borrowing clothes from people and kinda sorta not returning them. Oops. 

[dinosaurswanted-blog]

[dinosaurswanted-blog]

“Wait if I like...teleported you would have just...like let me go? Wouldn't we just be like..doing this tomorrow night when you found out who I am?” He hadn't meant to say that part, it had just sort of...tumbled out along with the last shred of his common sense. Well. Nearly the last. The truth was he hadn't the energy to teleport now, even with the adrenaline pounding through him in jagged peaks, he had used it too much already, but somehow he knew that information was best kept to himself. Swallowing thickly his brain worked around the best way to keep the connection between him and Aunt Vee lowkey. Yeah, play it cool, play it cool, she's just a murderous psyhopath. Witch. Vampire. Bloodsucking goddess of death. Fuck. Crap. Dude why did he need those papers? “Um, I mean she did give me a scholarship when I was still in school, but this is just – like sometimes I consult. On important stuff.”

He felt ridiculously small, wary in the predator's presence, his instincts continued to scream at him to run, but he paid could no longer focus enough to do so. His energy was starting to flag as the pain crept in, his mind trying to wrap its way around this surreal turn of events. If he was helpful he'd...live? Die? ??? There were too many variables fogging his brain. He flinched, snapped back to the present at the smirk in the words, hazel eyes wide before flitting to the movement slightly off to the side. Tension lanced through his spine as the unfamiliar agent approached, wanting to protest as almost mechanical hands searched him for their prize, wallet was fished unceremoniously from his pocket, yet he could not, voice trapped in his throat like an ant in a jar. Ridiculously, the only thought that rushed to the fore was Aww man...that's got my cafeteria card. And my bus pass...dude..crap. Ow. 

His heart leapt into his throat at the sudden movement, energy rising almost enough to telepo- Pain. His jaw dropped in a moment of excruciating agony as fangs sunk into the meat of his neck and then...nothing. Muted, haziness swept all that away under the warm blanket of blood loss and sleep until a light hand gently woke his reeling form. The bloodstained visage faded in and out of his vision, fighting for focus, for consciousness before finally fixating on tigress eyes, the only warmth – heat? - in all this chill. He could feel himself shivering, from shock or blood loss he didn't know, it doesn't really matter, just need...need a nap...no, NO, HOSPITAL – what? What do I... What did he want?  Slightly slurred words left him before he could put much thought behind them, “...want...t'be a hero...science rockstar hero...and get a puppy or...bunny? or kitty-cat...so many animals, dude.”

dinosaurswanted‌:

His arm hung limply at his side from where it had dislocated from the socket, breath coming harsh but soundless as he watched the brunette take in his ill considered words before his eyes widened almost comically as those two facts butted up against each other. Mind reeling he shook his head, horror and shock creeping into his bones at that. Nic? Nic was her expert? Fuck. He wasn’t….He wasn’t as good as that - How could he be better than Nicholas Everett?  That meant she really knew what she was doing – Apollyon knew what it was doing. But…why would Nic work for someone like this? How? For how long? Did Vera know? Questions upon questions piled up  and turned to ash on his tongue, forcing him to swallow down the bitter taste  that mingled with the iron tang of his own blood on his tongue. Steeling his reactions he tried to reign in the urge to nod slightly at the proposal, failing as the need to know tugged at his gut. Maybe he had done convinced her - but wasn’t that good? 

The young scientist flinched as the glass shattered in her palm, releasing a pained breath he hadn’t been aware his battered lungs were holding. Blinking at the questions he stammered for a moment before nodding, regretting it as pain and nausea lanced through him, surprise stealing the suspicious and snarky edge from his damaged voice, “Y-Y-yeah. Enhanced intelligence and teleportation. I … can make portals too. But why - ” He bit down on an agonized scream, choking it down hard enough to cause a fresh spill of blood against his tastebuds as he was moved, lungs protesting against his battered ribs, head spinning with a sudden flare of pain, nerve endings making him all too aware of his worsening condition. Now that his tongue had been stopped from running away with his brain he found himself hyperaware, taking in each shift in expression warily, gauging his own energy reserves as well. If he could just teleport out of the lab – but where would he run? Could he even outrun her- them?

He felt his gut sink sickly at the subjunctive command, mind barely wrapping around it as he fought to push aside the shooting pangs from his injuries. He wouldn’t remember any of this, he wouldn’t know her or Apollyon had anything to do with his injuries or the carnage he was seeped in. They could approach him on the street and he’d be none the wiser – was that what she’d done to Nic? Shockingly, he found his croaky voice still freed, fear creeping back in the corner of his consciousness. Right, technically still being addressed, “ Um. Mugging. There’s been muggings and lootings on campus after the invasion?”

Actions did speak louder than words as Paxton’s expression confirmed that he knew the Nicholas Everett. And if Amara was to go off on the similarities that they possess, she could very well assume that they were two peas in one intelligent pod. To have both beings at her disposal didn’t sound so bad, despite their annoying personalities where one talks to much and the other refuses to talk at all.

“A young boy filled with many gifts.” she concluded after learning about his abilities. It was an easy translation that he could be an asset to Apollyon, however Amara didn’t want any suspicion led to her. Therefore, she decided to do her own research and ask, “I’m just curious, what has Miss Elwyn offered you in return?” Money? An internship? A scholarship? If that was the case, she didn’t want to interfere since she knew the Director of Inner Sanctum could easily weed her out. “I also find it unfortunate how you were unable to teleport on out of here. It would have saved us both the trouble no?”

Crossing her legs, Amara leaned into her seat as a cunning smile graced her lips. “Is that so?” she mused as she glanced over at an agent. Without any said instructions, they approached Paxton and searched for a wallet to thief. “See? Now you’re delivering and all you needed was a little disciplining.” 

Now what to do with him. 

Silence engulfed the room as she sat there studying the bloody and bruised Paxton. Right, she was hungry. If she can’t have him a part of Apollyon, then perhaps he could be her very own blood bag—at her disposal 24 hours a day, seven days a week. Maintaining her smile, she got up from her seat and in a flash she was behind him. Gripping his shoulders, she kept him in place and bent down next to his ear to whisper, “Congratulations Mister Balfour, you get to live another day.” With her veins pulsing out of her facial features, she unleashed her fangs, before grabbing Paxton by his hair and pulling him back to expose his neck. Without any hesitation, she bore her teeth onto his neck and moaned in satisfaction as soon as his blood hit her tastebuds. The youths were her favourite to feed on, especially the gifted ones as they always had something special to offer. Amara was on a high as she realized that she may have overdone it since Paxton already loss blood to begin with. Therefore, she immediately pulled away to prevent herself from feeding him to death. With a blissful sigh, she licked the excess crimson from her lips and circled over to the front of Pax, before bending down at his eye level. “Paxton darling, we’re almost done here.” She gently pat his cheek to bring him back to consciousness and asked, “What’s one thing you’ve always wanted?” 

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Send me a 🚶 and I’ll introduce you to an NPC in my muse’s life.

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Send a flower to hear…

🌷… a compliment.

🥀…. a complaint.

🌹… a confession.

🌺… a secret.

🌸… a curious fact.

🌻… a suggestion.

🌼… a story about the past.

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“You should never have to convince someone into loving you and wanting to be with you. You deserve to see someone who can easily see what’s special in you.”

— Karen Salmansohn

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It would be nice if an alien race staged an invasion and took a dive to unite mankind

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Fear-Themed Headcanon Questions

Send one (or a few) to my muse and they’ll answer: 

Spiders: Does your muse squish bugs or put them outside? The Dark: Did your muse sleep with a nightlight as a child? Snakes: Would your muse ever keep an unusual/exotic pet? Blood: What’s the worst injury your muse has ever had? Clowns: Does your muse prefer comedy? Or horror? Mirrors: What is your muse’s least favorite thing about their appearance? Tight Space: Does your muse ever feel that they’re not living up to their own potential? Closet Monsters: Does your muse hide any aspects of their personality/life from others? Crowds: What does your muse think of big cities? Death: Name one thing your muse has lost that they wish they could get back. Ghosts: Has your muse ever seen something they couldn’t explain? Needles: Does your muse have a strong stomach? Curses: Does your muse believe in good/bad luck? How about karma? Heights: Is your muse a risk-taker? Solitude: Name 3 things your muse couldn’t live without. Fire: Would your muse rather be very cold, or very hot? Failure: Has your muse ever given up on an important dream? Abandonment: How would your muse win back someone who left them? The Unknown: Is your muse a philosophical person? Boogeyman: What position does your muse sleep in? Falling: What does your muse think about falling in love or commitment?  Change: What was a turning point in your muse’s life? Disease: What does your muse do on a sick day? Number 13: Does your muse believe any superstitions?  Noise: Name one sound your muse finds absolutely unbearable. Insects: Name something your muse finds gross or annoying.  Dolls: Has your muse ever collected something? Getting Old: Would your muse rather live 50 years loved, or 200 years alone? Social Phobia: Does your muse consider themselves an outgoing person?

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domestic headcanons meme!

Send a symbol to hear the following about my muse…

☾ Sleeping habits ☼ Favorite time of day ☂ Favorite weather ¿ Term for the TV device, whether it be “clicker”, “remote”, or something else ↪ Internet browsing activities ☹ Response to a leaky faucet or other household problem ♡ What their wedding invitations would look like ☃ What they wear around the house ♆ The worst kind of neighbor they could have, and how they deal with them ♨ Their cooking ability (or lack thereof) ✂ How well they do yardwork (or blow up the lawnmower) ♟ If they like board games, and how good they are at ‘em ✧ How clean their living space is now, and/or would be ideally ♜ Interior decorating aesthetic ♘ Any pets they might have ☗ What you’d find in their cabinets ⚒ What you’d find in their toolshed (if they’d have one) ▀ What they’d hide under the bed ○ What tune their doorbell has, if not a standard ding-dong ☺ What their welcome (or not-so-welcome) mat would say ☻ How late they stay up ♒ If they do their laundry in a timely manner ☆ How they’d throw parties (what would go on at them, refreshments, etc) ✓ What a typical Tuesday night looks like ❥ How they’d invite you home for the night (yes, it could be a pickup line)

Feel free to reblog and add more!