ofemeralds

[ofemeralds]

The song sounded oddly familiar. Like he had heard it before, perhaps from his mother? He froze for a second at the sound of the bitch of a voice to match the bitch of someone who he thought was dead years ago. He could smell the sarcasm and bitterness off her voice. She absolutely was not glad to see him and she very much was not pregnant anymore from when he remembered her. He would have just ignored her. He was surprised that she had recalled who he was. When she was with the rest of their family and he was separated. His brows knit together. His deep hues stare at her, not moving, not saying anything. His jaw tightens slightly at the sight of her, keeping the urge to want to punch her– after all, he couldn’t punch a woman, could he? But if someone was a snake like her, he possibly could convince himself. “I hardly recognized you.” a lie, she looks exactly like his dad. It almost made him feel sick to his stomach. “You are here alone?” he asks, monotone, arm crossing over the other, keeping his arms close to his chest. “your husband still around, or did he perish too?” he asks bitterly, wondering if she got everything she wanted and he got nothing in return.

⸻ CLOSED STARTER

for javon kent ( @ofemeralds )

humming out loud to a song she hadn't heard in years, helen is taking the last bite of her rationed meal before having her daughter take their plates back. this is when she spots her nephew and javon had grown a lot. barely recognizable from the fateful day they were separated, but she knew the person she saw was him. jaw slightly dropped and heart racing just enough to let her know this was real.

"nephew? is that you?" helen asks, voice booming despite the situation at hand. knowing she had to be on her best behavior, she would play her cards right. "well, i'll be. guess ghosts are real." lips curved upward like she was happy to see him. truth is, helen had decided he was dead a long time ago. a relief if she was being honest with herself. she hoped he didn't see ama, hoped he wouldn't ask about his parents. "oh, javon, i'm so happy to see you. how long have you been here?"

[ofemeralds]

closed for @vehemences

it felt weird, being in a place where everyone is settled. it has only been a week of them being here. after the news of the one dead soldier and two in the infirmary. his salt and peppered beard was growing in and he knows that he should shave it. however he hasn't had the time between being pulled into a new job and meeting all these new people. he was starting to feel overwhelmed. he remembered this is what it is like when he was in a new place where he hardly knew anyone other than his immediate family. one might call him the lone wolf. it felt weird not having his handy nail gun that he has had since the beginning. the item that he had to turn in when they got here since it was considered a weapon. he sees helen sitting on the worn down blue couch of their shared home, his gaze looked tired as the sun shone through the windows that he still needed to add some reinforcement to. "hey you," he says as he plops down on the couch next to her. a gentle giant is really what he was as he laid his head down on her lap. "how are you feeling about this place?" he asks, genuinely wanting to know as he rolls onto his back on the couch, letting his eyes rest shut. "i don't know-- if can trust these people yet." he says a bit truthfully, letting his voice carry weight through the air.

[ofemeralds]

“Right,” malachi says wondering when was going to be the time that he was going to be able to catch a break. It feels like he just got here and there was already an attack. He had made sure that his own family was okay. Being in a place like this still felt strange to him after being on the run for so long. It looked like he still hasn’t gotten around to a shave on his greyed beard over the years either. He had wondered how he could get involved with the community and sleep has been short these days. Volunteering to scope the perimeter felt like the perfect opportunity to get to know people. “I’m malachi,” he offers, calmly. His voice sounds warm as it fills the air despite what just happened. He had learned to gather himself quickly in situations like this– when everyone else was hurting and the world felt heavy. He needed to stand his ground when he had a child in the world. He couldn’t show anything.“Shall we?” he offers as he gestures his hand down the pathway, a flashlight in his hand as he nervously spins it between his fingers.

it never got easier for jemma. no matter how long they’d been surviving like this, the brutal truth lingered—any day could be their last. death was always close, a shadow trailing every mission, every patrol. but knowing that didn’t soften the blow when it finally knocked on their door.

what haunted her more was the thought of harlan out there, not coming back. she had no idea how she’d survive that kind of loss—how much of herself she’d lose with him.

needing space to breathe, to quiet the storm in her head, she volunteered for perimeter duty. as she rounded a corner, her hand instinctively brushed the grip of her weapon—then relaxed when she spotted someone already there.

“looks like we’re on shift together,” she said, her voice low but steady.

[ofemeralds]

“If you have yeast lying around here somewhere, maybe i could teach someone,” he offers. However, that life was never meant for him. He wonders if he could still remember how to ferment the grapes after this long or if it would be a second-hand automated motion to him.“Mmm,” he says as he watches miguel’s hesitation, trying to figure out the right word. “The worlds a cruel place and it just keeps getting shittier each day.” he says a bit truthfully, offering his bit of wisdom that he gathered over his years. The one year in domus spei has treated him well. On days like today, he wonders how he had survived another day compared to the next guy in all honesty. “At least we have good company, and…. Maybe a karaoke night in our future.” he says taking a long sip of his drink as he stares mindlessly down at the content in his drink once he placed it back down on the table. “I don’t think i’ve ever actually been to a karaoke night, actually,” he says thinking about it a bit deeper, realizing how much of the world he had never really gotten to experience when it was normal.

⸻⸻⸻ he titled his head, listening and lazy moving his glass, watching the liquid moving inside. " maybe you could teach somebody, we could always use some more wine, " he said in light tone, too light for what was inside his head. lifting the glass to his lips again, he took another sip, the burn exactly what he needed. maybe. " of course not, i thank you for the ⸻ " sacrifice, the word died on the tip of his tongue. with a shake of his head, he corrected himself smoothly. " company. always good to be in yours. " his lips smiled, even if his eyes didn't ⸻ but he kept it together, another taste of the alcohol washing away the bitterness of his thoughts. " .. we should have karaoke here. that would be fun. "

[ofemeralds]

[ofemeralds]

gloria obianyo as cordelia in king lear almeida theatre, london (x)

[ofemeralds]

tag dump for malachi

[ofemeralds]

He feels for the older man, losing his own teammate. He wishes he has the same sentiment towards the other members on his own crew being a hunter. He doesn’t say anything for a moment. For a second, he isn’t even sure why he was there, but there was something about harlan that was oddly comforting to him. He was someone who knew him when he was younger and probably– naive. He gives him a flat smile, weak really as he glances over at harlan. “I was going to check on his sister and nephew if you care to join.” he offers. Calm and steady wins the race here. “I am sorry about your teammate, my condolences,” he says respectfully as he lets his gaze drop down to the ground. “I am here to help, though, if you need it.”

'there is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens - a time to be born and a time to die….' the words rolled through harlan’s mind, he could almost hear his father's voice, echoing off memories of pews and dust motes in late sunday morning light

thirty eight damn years. garett had only just begun wading into that uneasy path folks call early middle age, a stretch thick with half promised opportunities and slow brewing regrets. now there’s nothing left of him, reduced to the bruised absence and to the two fierce little lives who would forever carry his shadow. he had always thought he’d grown familiar with death, with the fight. grief still landed, same as the first time, and it left identical cracks inside his chest every single time. hazel eyes stayed locked on the weapons in front of him as footsteps tapped down the hallway

"if ya’re here to talk sweet bout the good ol’ days, don’t waste yer fuckin' breath. ain’t nothin’ back there worth diggin’ up today" harlan admitted, long fingers moved to the 9 mm’s, feeding rounds with mechanical clicks "i got work to do"

[ofemeralds]

javon had heard about the news. Of course, he has, being a hunter after all. he didn't necessarily agree to any of it. though no one was going to listen to him anyways. "you know, i used to make liquor for a living-- well, wine pre all of this shit world and what not. i used to crush grapes between my feet. we did dabble into the rye whiskeys for a while it got too expensive," he says as he sits down next to Miguel at the bar staring at the glass in front of him that was empty. he had felt the. "this is a good whiskey though, maker's mark is top tier, so i guess i'll join you this once. can't let anyone be a sad drunk, can we?" he pours the dark liquid from the bottle into the rustic glass.

⸻⸻⸻ starter » open. ( tw: alcohol )

⸻⸻⸻ miguel drank his first drink like a shot, putting the glass down and immediately filling it again. what a day, week, year. he would love to just go home, cuddle to his husband and well, forget the whole mess. darell's unmoving body, lying on the bed, chest barely moving with each breath flashed in his mind again, and miguel scowled lightly before taking another sip, slower this time. he looked to the side, making eye-contact with the other and lifted his glass. " wanna join me? " he asked, smiling just a little. distraction, that what it all was. " c'mon, don't let me become a sad drunk here. "

[ofemeralds]

🦕

🦕 »        what    is    something    your    character    wishes    they    could    go    back    into    the    past    and    redo    ?

javon wishes that he got a grip on his anger management back when there was legit help and proper medication when it was readily available. now he is trying to learn how to navigate through the world and figuring how to handle it when being put into situations and figuring out how to self-soothe while the situation is happening. sometimes he doesn't always listen to the right path and chooses the wrong one and in those instances, he tries to learn from his mistakes that he doesn't thoroughly think through.

[ofemeralds]

💧

💧          »        when    was    the    last    time    your    character    did    something    for    the    first    time    ?

javon once drove a tank-- horribly, actually. in the streets of what was previously known as Chicago. when he was involved in their militia for a brief period. he did not inherit his dads marine abilities. javon bounced around a lot. he would not recommend riding a tank from someone that was meant to mend something with their bare hands. that absolutely did not work out beautifully; he was not sure why he was tasked with that.

[ofemeralds]

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🦋          »        what    would    your    character    do    if    they    knew    they    could    not    fail    ? 💙          »        name    3    things    your    character    is    grateful    for    . 💧          »        when    was    the    last    time    your    character    did    something    for    the    first    time    ? 🐟          »        what    does    your    character’s    voice    sound    like    ?    do    they    tend    to    use    simple    or    worldly    vocabulary    ? 🦕          »        what    is    something    your    character    wishes    they    could    go    back    into    the    past    and    redo    ? 📘          »        what    is    a    memory    that    makes    your    character    feel    proud    ?    describe    the    memory    . 👕          »        what’s    in    your    character’s    handbag    /    briefcase    /    pockets    ? 🫐          »        is    your    character    proud    of    who    they    are    ?    describe    an    achievement    or    moment    they    are    proud    of    . 🧊          »        what    does    your    character    first    notice    about    another    individual    ? 🏙          »        what    does    your    character    value    more    ––    creativity    or    practicality    ? 🌧          »        describe    a    time    your    character    did    something    even    though    they    were    scared    . 💍          »        what    is    your    character’s    favourite    gift    that    they’ve    received    ? 🌊          »        how    old    does    your    character    feel    on    the    inside    ,    and    why    ? 💎          »        does    your    character    feel    they    have    passed    up    chances    that    they    presently    regret    ?    describe    what    they    were    .

[ofemeralds]

bio for javon kent- if i wanted to talk i would have called a friend.

malachi arthur- swallowed up by the words and halfway to space

[ofemeralds]

[ofemeralds]

[ofemeralds]

tag dump for javon!