#(( you don't have to match length!! ))

[deanchaiyachet]

This was nice. Really nice, actually. Dean wondered how long he could go without making a fool out of himself again in her presence. Sitting there and talking trivialities with the woman who had once been his absolute crush in high school, had been actually nice. If he hadn't been a total asshole back at the Renfaire, maybe he would have found this out much sooner. If he hadn't stormed out of there? Yeah, he certainly would have enjoyed grabbing some sweets with her.

And she was funny, too? Yeah, back in school, he would have totally been a goner if Maya had given him a mere second of her day.

Maybe it was a good thing that she hadn't, because, despite not having much to offer her now, back then, he had even less. He was just the funny kid people liked being around because it made them feel better. Now, however, Dean was his own person. He still cared deeply for the people he loved, and he still made sure others were happy around him, but now, he was able to say he was someone. His online footprint was growing each and every day, he had things to do, people endorsing him, people believing in him. So yes, he had more to share now.

"They really are tricky, but c'mon, I'm sure that's not true!" Dean shook his head, eyeing her affectionately. "But then again, I'm only ever good at baking, so I understand the feeling." He then shrugged, reaching over to bring his champagne flute closer. "I don't think there's anything wrong at being good at only one thing, you know? As long as you're happy with that thing, then why does everyone have to be good at everything?" Besides, no one could be great at everything anyways. You were either good at one thing or mild at many.

As she spoke again, Dean was, sadly, in the middle of another sip. Maybe he should start looking at her as he drank, to prevent keep looking like he couldn't drink properly or that he had somewhat of a gag reflex. "Shit." He mumbled to himself as he once again, used the napkin to wipe the champagne off his shirt. "I promise I'm not always that stupid, you just... you make me nervous." And, as if to remain true to his words, he laughed nervously as he confessed with honesty to her.

But, Dean remained confused, the words she used being enough to make him stumble upon his own. "Uh... date? I don't... what are you..." And then he remembered Ingrid leaving the table once Maya joined them. "You mean Ingrid?" He asked, finding his best friend in the crowd and motioning his head towards her. "She's not my date." He chuckled while shaking his head. "I mean, she is. But it's nothing like that." Dean explained. "We've been best friends since basically the womb. She's like... my soulmate or something, but in a non-romantic way." The streamer was quick to add, given the tone people usually gave the word 'soulmate'. "But uh... I'm sorry for storming off like that, I just... I don't know, I got nervous. Like I said... you make me nervous. I'm a dumbass most of the time... so I'm sorry about that." / @mayxlee

Maya enjoyed the freedom to experiment with various styles, colors, and fabrics. So, it came as no surprise that she arrived in one of her own creations. She didn't often have the opportunity to design something for herself, but she was genuinely delighted that people appreciated her dress. The art of making clothing was distinctly different from her profession, and she relished the opportunity to take a simpler, more detail-oriented approach. This emphasis on the finer points was clearly evident in the dress she proudly wore.

"Yeah, I did," Maya replied softly, chuckling at his reaction. She was accustomed to people being surprised, especially since he had no idea about her profession. Fortunately, making clothes was much less complex than creating costumes, so it didn't take her long. "I'm pretty sure it's the only thing I'm good at, so no need to worry. I'm sure you're skilled in other areas... and, you know, buttons can be pretty tricky," she said, offering an encouraging smile.

"Oh, believe me, I understand," the brunette nodded, making a wry expression. "I manage to burn pretty much anything I lay my hands on, even water, so..." Her voice trailed off as she set her drink on the table. "I recently got to know Verda, she's a nice person. I'm here because of Emmy – she's a close friend," Maya explained, smiling at him. "Listen, I just wanted to apologize if I made you feel uncomfortable the last time we met. That was absolutely not my intention, in any way... So, yeah, I thought I should offer an apology. I didn't mean to scare away your date."

@deanchaiyachet

[rewritingtales]

location   :   coming   out   of   a   random   portal

magic   is   not   to   be   messed   with.   to   hear   that   a   man   with   simple   magical   beans   is   the   one   responsible   for   all   of   these   portals?   it's   almost   sickening.   firstly,   that   he   didn't   think   about   it   himself.   secondly,   that   now   when   he   asks   the   mirror   who   the   fairest   of   them   all   is   he's   going   to   get   so   many   other   worlds   mixed   in   with   his   own.   it's   enough   to   make   him   want   to   be   another   curse   on   someone,   but   this   time   he   doesn't   have   a   reason.   the   precious   king   of   his   former   kingdom   wouldn't   have   it   now   that   he's   all   grown   up.   everything   seems   to   be   making   him   sick.

then,   almost   like   a   lightbulb   turning   on   inside   of   his   head,   he   remembers   that   he's   not   alone.   grimhilde   takes   in   a   deep   breath   and   let's   out   a   soft   sigh.   he   takes   out   his   compact   mirror   and   opens   it.   after   a   brief   look   of   his   reflection,   he   notices   his   father's   spirit   coming   out   to   talk   to   him.   “i   didn't   summon   you   and   i   don't   want   to   hear   what   you   have   to   say.”   he   quickly   snaps   it   closed   and   puts   it   back   inside   of   his   jacket   pocket.

he   continues   to   fix   his   suit   so   that   it   looks   well   placed.   he's   not   wearing   a   tie,   there's   no   need   since   he's   no   longer   at   the   ball,   and   the   top   three   buttons   are   off.   he   leans   down   and   grabs   the   basket   that   he   brought   with   him.   it's   filled   to   the   brim   with   apple   pies   and   fritters.   he's   trying   to   be   friendly.   at   least   in   his   mind.   really,   he   just   wants   to   get   people   to   think   he's   hot   again.   what's   hotter   than   a   man   that   bakes?

after   surveying   the   area   around   him,   grimhilde   spots   his   next   target.   he   walks   over   to   them   with   a   soft   smile   on   his   face,   although   all   he   can   see   is   their   back.   “hello   there,”   voice   is   soft.   you   attract   more   bees   with   honey   than   with   vinegar.   “i   seem   to   be   all   turned   around   due   to   the   magical   traveling,   but   wanted   to   give   you   this.”   he   taps   them   on   the   shoulder   with   his   right   hand   and   extends   his   left   with   the   basket.

[aletheialed]

The Chief Prosecutor from overseas, Miles Edgeworth... at first, Rayfa had come here to see him for a completely different reason to the one that's taking up all of her attention now.

Honestly, she doesn't remember the man particularly well. It's no surprise - she was in such an awful state during the time that she'd spent with him that she barely gave him a second thought with everything that had been on her mind. But he'd been kind to her - she remembers that, and she'd wanted to thank him for it. There may have been other reasons for her seeking him out, too, but right now... Rayfa has forgotten about all of them for one very specific reason: the mystery that she's determined to solve.

That is to say - the question of whatever it is she's been experiencing whenever Miles Edgeworth is nearby.

If you were to put her on the spot, she'd say it feels like spiritual power. But that makes no sense. For one thing, Rayfa has never heard of a man having spiritual power! ...Though until recently, she hadn't thought that anyone from outside of Khura'in could channel spirits... and so much of what she'd believed about the spiritual world had been wrong that it would hardly surprise her to learn if she was mistaken about more. Still - it's strange enough to have made her second guess herself. Then, there's her next source of doubt - the fact that Rayfa can't even channel spirits yet herself yet. So can she really trust herself to accurately discern what she's feeling to begin with...?

To be honest, she hates it - being so unsure of herself. It brings up bad memories in her... uncomfortable feelings that she'd hoped she had finally got rid of. But that's exactly why she's so determined to figure this mystery out right now - so much so that it takes her three times until she realized her name has been called by the man she's been staring at for the past half a minute.

"Oh! Ummm...." Suddenly, Rayfa feels awfully embarrassed. Not that she has anything to be embarrassed by, of course! Her curiosity is completely reasonable, and as the future Queen of Khura'in, she is obviously one hundred percent justified of wanting to get to the bottom of this matter!

"Mr. Chief Prosecutor! Did you- say something to me just now?"

@demon-prosecuted ( starter for edgeworth! )

[the-haunted-office]

(A starter for @alabonshay!)

"As Stanley came to a set of two open doors, he entered the door on his left."

Stanley has forgotten how many times he's heard those words spoken in that order by that voice. Enough times that he doesn't need to be told to take the door on the left anymore, but the voice still feels the need to tell him. That's just how the Narrator is, though. Omnipresent, though perhaps not omniscient. Controlling, but not in control.

Stanley goes ahead and enters the door on the left, though. He has no reason to deviate this time around. Nothing in his gut telling him to go right instead, or to jump off any platforms, or to head down any dark and ominous corridors. Besides, it's not that he wants to listen to the Narrator this time around or that he has any particular gut feelings. He simply wants to see outside, even knowing it isn't real.

It may be the last time he sees the outside ever again, and in his yearning for freedom, he can't help but take whatever he can get.

"-2845- Stanley, have you even been listening to me? I swear, it's like talking to a wall with you sometimes. I don't know why I even bother."

Stanley presses his lips together and enters in the code behind the boss' desk, although he manages to resist rolling his eyes. He hadn't realized he'd been tuning out the Narrator. Everything is on autopilot this time around, it seems, and most of the time through the Story he doesn't even need to listen to the Narrator to know where he needs to go. It's the same thing every time, so what's the point?

The fireplace swings open, the Narrator drones on, and Stanley continues his march, onward toward the Ending he's reached dozens if not hundreds of times before.

Getting there is the boring part, and as the clank and clang of his shoes echo on the concrete floors and metal catwalks, Stanley begins to tune out the voice in the ceiling again.

The voice in the ceiling notices.

Meanwhile neither of them notices when something goes fantastically... different.

"-Stanley decided that this machinery would never again exert its- Stanley, you're just not listening to me, are you? Here you are, seconds away from your freedom, and you're acting like you're a walking corpse. I might as well be talking to one. I don't know why I bother with you sometimes, if I'm honest."

Stanley gives a small shrug in acknowledgment as he enters the door into the room with the Mind Control machine. He can see the blue glow from the enormous monitor just beyond the door. Here, he'll have to make his choice whether to turn the machine On or Off.

"Well, if you're so content with being dead already why don't you- .....What the HELL is THAT?"

Stanley comes to an abrupt halt, because he sees it too. Something is standing there in front of the controls. Something a lot bigger and bulkier than he is, and better dressed to boot.

Lacking any other reasonable way to respond to this situation, the office worker just stands there. And waves a hello.

[pruenakamura]

closed starter for @reneexthompsxn locations: vinyl fantasy -> cedar grill & lounge

Prue had barely started the radio show for the evening when people already started calling in. She always felt that she go more callers closer to the holidays than any other time as they were all looking for advice. While she wasn't an advice radio dj, she did help as best as she could; even if she was sarcastic the entire time, especially if the questions were dumb to her. Since the event in September, though, she had been more melancholy about everything. Having things switch so fast with Renee was hard and she kept questioning if she should declare her love or not. All she needed was a sign.

She was about to start a song and was introducing it over the station when the phone rang and she looked at it. "You know what? First we're going to take this call." She clicked the button for the call to go through and she leaned back in her chair. "You're on with Radio Pulse. This is Prue. What can I do for you?"

"Hi, Prue. I wanted to ask your advice on something." The voice on the other end said. "I had a sense about it since you called, but go ahead." She told them and swung her chair from side to side. "There's this girl I really like and we kissed a few weeks ago, but..." She could hear the hesitation in their voice and Prue's heart picked up as she sat straighter. "I don't know. Everything had been weird since then. We barely talk, there's so much tension in the air. I just don't know what I should do. Should I talk to her? Should I wait for her to talk to me?" The person sighed. "What do you think I should do?"

Normally, she probably would've been more forward about the whole thing. Tell them to be brave and tell the person how they felt. She would be a hypocrite and maybe she still was, but she had other things to say now as she was in the same position. "Tell her." She said into the mic. She felt like her heart was beating now against her chest and her hands were getting a little sweaty. "You have to tell her or you'll go on for years wondering what would've happened if you just said it." There was a pause and the person started talking again. "How do I just tell her? And what if she doesn't feel it back? What if I ruin our friendship?"

"Do it now. Go to her. Wherever she is, go there and tell her everything." Her heart was racing and now she felt like she was talking to herself more than the person on the phone. "Forget about what will happen if she doesn't feel it back. If she doesn't, you both will find a way to still be friends if your friendship is that strong. Anything is better than going another moment without telling the person you love that the feelings are there." Prue was feeling antsy and she stood from the chair. "Just go. Go do it before you lose this courage and won't be able to do it again."

"Okay. Okay I will. Thank you." The call ended and all she could do was look around. "Guys, I'm going to start music and when we come back, you're going to be in the capable hands of my co-worker, Brian." She said and looked through the window of the radio station to Brian looking in and shaking his head. "Everyone please be kind to him and if you have someone you need to tell anything to, go do it. I gotta go do the same." She said and started a song before leaving the booth and looking at Brian. "I have to go. All you have to do is continue the playlist and click the button for commercials in thirty minutes. It's marked." And with that, she took off out of the building and to her car so she could drive to Cedar Grill.

It felt like forever before she finally showed up at the restaurant where her best friend worked and she parked the car before slamming the door as she got out. She still felt like she was on vibrate as her heart raced and she was anxious. Opening the door to the restaurant, she burst in there with all eyes on her which caused her to stop and look through the sea of people until she found Renee standing there. This was it. This was her chance to say what she needed to say.

[muse-hodgepodge]

@bear-bitten plotted for a starter

The Daycare was a beacon of bright light in the otherwise darker Mega Pizzaplex. It had to be or else he would come out to the front. The current Daycare attendant, Sunny, was currently in his room above the ball pit listening to the never ending theme song that played constantly and one other thing. He had no choice but to listen to the glitchy ramblings of his counterpart while he hugged his knees. Sure, he could forcibly cut their communication link for a while but, it was far too lonely then and to be honest, he was hoping to hear lucidity from Moon at some point.

Sunny is pulled from his musings by the oh so familiar of someone coming down the slide and landing in the ball pit. Immediate excitement swells within him at the sight of company for the first time in so many weeks! The animatronic stands up quickly with a bright laugh before spinning and diving down into the ball pit below. He emerges from under the colorful spheres before the child, a boy, and quickly rambling, "a new friend! It's super late so are we having a slumber party?! Oh ho ho that'd be so much fun! And I have lots of fun activities we can do!" As he's talking he does pick up his new guest to help him out of the surprisingly deep pit, setting him down a bit away. "We can party all night!! There's just one rule - keep the lights on, On, ON!" That last part sounded almost desperate before he realizes something, "OH of course! We need to introduce ourselves so we can be the best of friends, my name is Sun or Sunny! What's yours?"

[quietlyblooms]

open to mutuals | based on this hc ♡

she had a feeling this would happen.

years of self-regulating have taught chiyo to notice the signs, subtle as they sometimes can be, so her breathlessness does not come as a surprise. she knows the chest pain and dizziness will soon follow, and though she's dealt with this a hundred times over, there is still a sense of panic to get out of view, to hide away and wait for the moment to pass. she doesn't want to be seen like this. she doesn't want to explain how the little things build up inside her until her lungs can no longer expand properly; she doesn't want to explain how the big things drown her, pulling her beneath the waves no matter how strong a swimmer she pretends to be.

that is why chiyo tucks herself in the corner of some room, shrouded in quiet darkness as her chest heaves with effort. the ceiling tiles are dirty. the door's got a silver doorknob. the walls are brown. that's three. i hear the air conditioning. i hear the door opening--- her already racing heart startles in her chest. chiyo tries to make herself smaller, hands shooting up to her mouth to muffle her labored breathing. she doesn't want to be seen like this. she doesn't want to be found. she looks up, brown eyes panicked and brimming with tears.

they see her.

[brittlefcrged]

OPEN BG3 starter / first night, post prologue, pre-Withers, pre-grove.

It might not have been the wisest of decisions to slip away from their makeshift camp alone, with night already falling, but it was, she had decided, the best decision. The ... safest decision. For the others, at least.

The githyanki had proven helpful in the escape from the nautiloid, and informative enough, in the aftermath, even with hope for a potential cure to the worms that wriggled in the depths of their skulls, but the warrior's short temper and brash desire to command had already grown irksome. The wizard -- genial enough, certainly, but too much so for Clarissa's already raw nerves -- and she hadn't been able to quell the hunger that had been gnawing in the pit of her stomach since their encounter, the urge, the need to know what his tender flesh would feel like between her teeth -----

The cleric, with her feigned haughtiness that did little to disguise the uncertainty and paranoia that hung acrid in the air around her had at least proven herself capable of gratitude, but between those three, and the sly and cavalier, pale skinned elf that was at ill at ease in his own skin as she was in hers.... she had needed to get away from it. From them, while she had any semblance of control over herself.

Whatever, whomever she had been in her previous life, she didn't think it had been much of a people person.

She'd found her way to the edge of a brook at the base of the low cliff, not far from where they'd found Lae'zel, and after rinsing off the worst of the blood and assorted gore from the day's events, she had settled, cross legged, a flask of wine in one hand and wedges of bread and cheese perched atop her bag next to her in an attempt to take the time to gather her thoughts, and attempt to clear her mind -- a low snort, fingers breaking off a chunk of cheese and bread. Clearing her mind was rather the opposite of what she needed to do, wasn't it?

The sound was subtle, the smallest creak of a branch stretched a little too far from its trunk to just be the wind, barely audible above even the low murmur of the creek and the ambient sounds of the night that surrounded her -- and her uninvited guest -- but it was enough to announce the presence of another. "I'd much rather not end this day with further bloodshed," that was a lie, though, too, wasn't it? "But if you do not make yourself known to me, my blade will bite." And so might I.

[a-hell-of-a-time-archive]

@copaceticjillybean

There were reasons why the marquis rarely went out alone. He knew that there were some among the lower houses who had it out for him, waiting in the shadows for their moment to strike. While Andrealphus was nowhere near the same status as a prince such as Stolas, he was still high enough in the hierarchy to have a target placed on his back.

This fact was made known to him as he slowly dragged himself down a nearby alley, a bloodied hand clutching his injured arm which was, arguably, the worst of his injuries. If anyone were to even look at his now bruised and battered self, most would not know who he was.

Of course, the fools who tried to jump him ended up worse off. Various headless corpses littered the alley floor behind him, and those who managed to keep their heads were lacking various other parts. Others still were left covered in ice except for the gaping holes where their hearts were supposed to be. It was all quite messy, he thought as shards of ice fell from his hands, the remains of his sword scattering below. Had it been Caim, the cuts would have been far more clean, and the fight finished in an instant. She had always been better than him at this.

A hiss escaped his throat as he leaned against a nearby wall, his vision blurring as pain wracked his body. He had used the majority of his magic in the fight, and it took all of what he had left to remain conscious. He knew he should call for assistance, but his pride and unwillingness to admit that he fucked up big time pushed him forward. If either his sister or Caim were to catch wind of this, he would never live it down. Not to mention that the media would find out and descend upon him like they did when his former brother in law ended up in the hospital.

He had to do this alone.

He would get himself out of this.

He ended up collapsing in the middle of the alley, his vision fading to black before hitting the ground.

[imsammyclaflin]

Horrorween Night In

Sam had learned a lot since spending more and more time with Chris, one of those being where he kept his spare key. Not that Chris would have minded him coming over unannounced but this was a suprise of sorts. They had already made plans to hang out and watch a horror film or two but Sam wanted to show off and cook for him. The Brit was in no way a master but he had managed to make some pretty decent meals for himself and others in the past so he figured he would give it a shot tonight. He wanted to keep it simple with spaghetti and homemade meatballs, a dish that he knew Chris loved.

He had everything prepared and put the bread in the oven, walking away to go finish getting ready. He hadn't been in the bathroom that long when he started smelling something burning and he immediately freaked out, running to the kitchen to see smoke starting to billow from the oven. "Fuck! Fuck!" He said, opening the oven door to let some of the smoke out. He reached up and turned it off before running over to open the window, fanning the smoke outside. "I'm so dead. He's gonna kill me." Shaking his head, he pulled the cremated remains of their garlic bread from the still smoking oven just as his boyfriend walked in. @famepine

[harshlxve]

open to: f muse: jalen agholor ( alternate muse: everett welch, rian costagen, diego alcaraz ) plot: jalen is a owner of the most popular club in new york city, but it's really all a front for his crime empire. everything from d.rugs, to gambling, to prostitut!on. your muses boyfriend owes alot of money due to one of those things, your muse has come to 'pay his debt' as a last resort. jalen is based loosy off james st patrick from the tv show Power. that's the kinda situation we're working with. wanted fcs: here

if it wasn't for the guards that were armed that stood outside his office, it would seem like it was just like any other nightclub. to anyone that came to his club it was exactly that, most people would go about their day seeing jalen as just a business owner that ran the most successful and popular club in the city but in reality he ran far more around the cities. he was connected to more crime than someone could fathom, and he ran all that by being very strict with his rules and never giving people second chances. he rarely cared about the things his lower workers were doing, but when one of them came up especially short on money he started asking questions. then he was told that the man had stated his girlfriend would pay his debts, however necessary. that was enough to get jalen's attention, so he had them bring the girl to him instead. the office was lavish, behind his desk a wall that was one large plane of glass that look down on the night club. "send her in" he announced to the men at the door who opened it. He was turned away from the door looking out over the club, people dancing like there was no care in the world. "have you been here before?" he finally asked as he turned around to see the younger woman, his eyes moving up and down her body for a moment. "my name is jalen, what's your's?" his words weren't harsh, but they had an edge to them that seemed like they could become such instantly.

[soulfulempathy]

@painofhumanity

It hadn't been hard for Morgan to convince Yuki to go to a bar. What had been an unfriendly reminder was the amount of people in one room who wanted to fuck his boyfriend.

Boyfriend. The word left a strange flavor in his mouth, even though it was accurate. Just...not the word Yuki would've otherwise used.

Though Morgan was attracting a lot of attention, he didn't seem to notice (or he didn't care). Morgan's focus was still on Yuki, which filled him with a sense of smug pride, despite the way his body was coiled to snap.

And then the man whose desire had overpowered the others decided to try his luck.

He'd come up to them -- specifically Morgan -- and drawn his attention away from Yuki. A large guy, tall and muscular. And apparently full of arrogance and cockiness, for him to come up to someone else's boyfriend and blatantly flirt.

Of course...Yuki hadn't exactly shown the other patrons that Morgan was his.

When the stranger touched Morgan's arm, invited him back to his place, Yuki couldn't take it anymore.

He stood abruptly and got between them, shoving the man back by his excessively broad chest. He towered over Yuki, probably a foot taller than him, but Yuki wasn't intimidated. All those muscles wouldn't save him from eating the floor, if need be.

"Back off my boyfriend," Yuki snarled, staring up at the other man like there was no height difference. That taste became stronger, but the word was out, and he wasn't going to take it back.

The man had the audacity to laugh, and Yuki became keenly aware of the knives hidden throughout his person.

"Do you have a death wish, kid?"

Yuki's expression turned to stone, a scowl taking over his face that he could never quite achieve before. His eyes went cold, and Yuki shoved a tendril of his power down the man's throat, coated in an acute panic that would no doubt take days to shake off. The man drew in a harsh breath and his eyes widened as he clutched his chest, where his heart was no doubt hammering against his ribs. Yuki pushed harder, even though it drained him quickly. He refused to show it. He was more interested in how far he could push the man, and a smirk curved his lips as he watched him drop to his knees.

Soon even Morgan faded into the background, as did the yells to call an ambulance, while Yuki lapped up every second of blind panic he was causing.

[worthyheir]

@hcncrablesacrifice / vaguely plotted starter

He had made it to the Dragonmont just in time to see his mother fly away on Syrax, and that had been several hours ago. Since then, he was stuck on Dragonstone - he could not leave their home defenseless, particularly with their monarch having left. He had been told the reason, that Seasmoke had gained a new rider and she went to discover who it might be. His eyes have been searching the skies since she left, awaiting her return, when a member of the Queensguard finds him. A boat was spotted nearby, three travelers aboard when it was picked up: the Queen Dowager, the usurper Queen, and her young Princess daughter.

Without Rhaenyra on Dragonstone, and her Hand back to Driftmark, it was to Prince Jacaerys that they sought what they should do with these enemies on their shores. It could be a trap, but if the Guard had already rounded them up, saying that the Queen Dowager was demanding an audience with Rhaenyra (what rights did she had to demand anything of any of them anymore?), he did not think so. It was not as though any of the guard or council would leave their Queen alone with this woman, not after what had happened the last time someone from King's Landing had infiltrated their walls.

If Alicent wanted an audience with someone at Dragonstone this day, it would have to be him. As much as he would have preferred to have her thrown into a cell, he knew his mother would not have done so. However, separating Helaena and Jaehaera from her seemed the best move - placing them in a room under guard, while having the Queen Dowager wait for him in another. He would see her first, discover why they would risk coming to Dragonstone, even cloaked and by ship.

Prince Jacaerys entered the room armed - he does not go near anywhere now without a sword sheathed at his side, truly, but she would not need to be aware of that - head held high, and despite the attempt to appear diplomatic, it is difficult to keep the disdain from his voice when he does speak. The guards remain outside the door by his order, though he does not fear this former Queen who has come to his home for a purpose. They are present in case she attempted to leave, after he discovered her purpose here. "I was told you were demanding an audience. The Queen is otherwise occupied, and will be for several hours. If you wish to see her, you'll have to speak with me first."

[voyeuriistic]

@nursewashing

This isn't how it was supposed to go, he thinks, stalking his prey. His usual MO was to go for average; a father of two, a teen working at McDonald's, someone anyone could see themselves in. That's what makes a scary story effective- the fact that it could happen to you.

But… the plan had been to change it up this time. It could happen to any boring, average, person. What about everyone else? The people who think they're too smart or too rich or too powerful to be slaughtered like some easily forgotten average joe? It was time to design a story just for them.

His target was meant to be a woman who'd already achieved her final girl status. She'd faced death once and come out the victor, nearly died amongst the stars. She'd tried to keep a low profile after returning to Earth, but, anyone who spent their days searching for news on horrific accidents and the cruelty of human beings had heard about the events on the Tulpar. If Anya Nusome could die like an animal, then so could anyone else.

So, he watched the heroine from a distance. He watched her for months, formulating a plan. Any day now, he'd strike when the moment was right. Plans never seem to work out as intended.

The prey he stalks now isn't Anya. It's some stupid motherfucker standing in his way, complicating things. This is the second time he's seen him today, watching her, stepping on Danny's goddamn toes. He isn't a part of the story.

He follows his prey to the counter when he goes to order another coffee. Danny's hoping to catch a glimpse of the name on his card, but his prey does him one better. He must be nervous with Danny standing so close behind him- he fumbles trying to get his money out of the pocket of his jacket, sends the full contents of it crashing to the ground.

Danny's quick to assist, picking up the fallen cards and cash, driver's license included. He commits full name and address to memory, returns the cards to their owner with a smile. Too easy. He'll pay him a visit later.

Danny gets another coffee, then stops briefly at an empty table near the counter. There, he sets his drink down, shoves the sleeve of his hoodie up, and scribbles the man's information on his forearm in ballpoint pen before he can forget it. Sleeve down, coffee picked up. Instead of returning to his original table, he heads for Anya’s.

“Hey, I don't mean to freak you out, but that guy over there-” he makes a show of pointing, hoping to scare the amateur off, “has been staring at you hardcore. It's giving me the creeps. Want me to sit with you? Act like we're friends?”

[freewillacquired]

In a world ravaged by a virus that primarily creates monsters, nasty encounters are in no short supply. When Rain begins to hear heavy footfalls—when she feels them practically shaking the ground beneath her, she figures she's about to have another.

Cursing under her breath, she unholsters her gun.

The days were blending together in depressing ways now. Nemesis was shocked at how quickly things had gone to hell after the Hive and Raccoon City Incidents. It had taken him quite a while to regenerate after the city's "sanitation," but once he was on his feet again, he realized the gravity of what was happening to the world.

Alone and with nothing left to do in his current mutated state, Nemesis had taken to showing up at Umbrella facilities unannounced, and destroying as much of them as he could. The digital feed supplied by the retinal implant attached to his right eye and sewn up into his head gave him a lot of useful information, especially after his mind was liberated from Umbrella's control. May as well put it to good use, right?

He'd acquired more clothes and equipment this way, with the boots and leather trenchcoat-style getup being standard issues for a creature called a Tyrant, which he apparently now was. They seemed just about the only things that were going to fit his... unique body shape nowadays.

Learning about himself and destroying Umbrella assets were good pastimes, but Nemesis was extremely lonely. The few survivors he came across now and then either screamed and ran from him or shot at him. Bullet wounds were nothing more than annoying mosquito bites to him now, thanks to his thick hide, but even so... it was demoralizing. All he wanted to do was help. He was almost getting used to being alone all the time, by necessity rather than desire, until that unexpectedly changed. While exploring a city one day, he rounded a corner and-

"Raaaain!" Nemesis bellowed the moment he saw her, unable to contain his excitement upon seeing her. "Oh... ny god!" He couldn't believe his eyes. Well, eye. He still had two, but one was... indisposed. In a move that probably looked damn near ridiculous to the other, he lifted his hand... and waved to her. "I'n so glad... to see you! How... are you... alithe... right now?" he tried to ask, his massive chompers getting in the way, as usual.

Nemesis couldn't get his voice to be anything other than a monotone growl, and with monstrous teeth and a noticeable lack of lips, his speech was something of a garbled mess. It took him a while, but he'd learned to make certain sounds in other ways, using his throat and tongue. Essentially, he'd had to relearn how to speak. Some sounds and words, though, were lost forever. None of that did anything to curb his enthusiasm at seeing Rain alive, however. Was he finally losing his mind? Hallucinating, maybe? No, the target identification system is identifying her as Rain... Right now, Nemesis didn't care either way. Just the sight of her was one for sore eyes, since his last clear memory of her was being at death's door.

"I thought... the anti-thirus... didn't work...?" he said, his elation at seeing her alive completely overriding his common sense. Nemesis wasn't thinking about the fact that Rain wouldn't recognize him anymore, or about how negatively she would likely react to seeing the hulking beast before her. Not to mention his tentacles, rooted at the backs of his shoulders, which were excitedly coiling and undulating in their own right, reacting to his surprise and happiness. He batted one of them with his hand. "Cut it out...!" he admonished the obnoxious appendage. It recoiled temporarily before returning to its idle activities.

Then it dawned on him, especially with how she had her gun at the ready. Oh no... she has no idea who I am. "It's Natt," he said, laying his hand on his chest. "Natt... Ad-di-son." How pathetic is it that I can't even say my own name correctly anymore? he thought grimly.

[rookfang]

@drekr / the viper sent in [RAIN] — a romantic kiss in the rain.

↪ 𝑫𝑰𝑭𝑭𝑬𝑹𝑬𝑵𝑻 𝑾𝑨𝒀𝑺 𝑻𝑶 𝑲𝑰𝑺𝑺 𝑺𝑶𝑴𝑬𝑶𝑵𝑬.| accepting!

LOOSE STRANDS FALL and stick to her face, as rain blankets Minrathous. She had hastily closed the hatch of the building, climbing onto the roof and into the downpour. Beyond them, out in the city, streets normally clogged body to body are empty, as people take shelter in taverns and covered alleys. The stone is shiny-slick, making the night blurry and bright.

Combined with the adrenaline rush, the panting as they hurry to escape, it's a frenetic moment. The Venatori left long behind, lost in the confusion of smoke screens and toppled furniture and caltrops. If she had breath, Laika might joke that for so-called Tevinter nationalists, they didn't know the city.

Any joke dies in her lungs, though. A fear, momentary and passing, crosses her mind. Had Ashur stayed behind? An Orphean anxiety; was she alone in the night once more. Laika whirls around, as the rain drips down her leather armor, and into the seams of her clothes. It chills her to her core. Elves have better night vision than most, but the fuzz of the rain makes her almost miss him. Her heart skips.

Moon and rain-lit, stands her masked co-conspirator. The deluge creates a film of water between the two of them, and Laika does not hesitate to sever it. Rushes to his side, arms thrown 'round his shoulders, pulling him down to her height.

Breathy, elated, Laika catches his eyes; all at once taken by the color. Her own glint, like a cat caught in torchlight. “ You're alive! We're alive— do you have— ” She doesn't need to ask it, the bundle of documents are up under his cloak. Blackmail was a powerful weapon, but they'd come to close to losing their lives in the process.

Up on her tiptoes, Laika moves one hand to the side of Ashur's face. The motion is quick, as she pulls aside his mask. She'd done it enough, the motion practiced for sneaking quick kisses. Here, though, there is a desperation, as she pushes up into him. Furious press, a forceful and grateful kiss; the taste of iron permeates her mouth.

Her other hand cups the side of his face, gloved fingers still tracing the curve of his cheek. Like she can't believe it, she whispers into his lips, “ You're here. ”