#deviantchronicles

[utt-a]

I can’t hold enough of you in my hands.

Franz Kafka, Letters to Milena (The Schocken Kafka Library)

[nowmakeyourpeace]

Ships: John and Ororo, Harry and Evelyn and Harry and Nadav

John and Ororo: 

At first blush this is kind of an odd ship. 

Mostly because John is just...a mess. A big ol’ mess of bad choices fueled by good intentions or good choices fueled by bad intentions. It’s a mix. The here comes Ororo! Take no shit. Gorgeous as hell. Knows herself and her powers. 

So you think about it and it just somehow becomes this beautiful relationship that works. 

And for some reason when I think of them I think of those big storms off the coast of an active volcano.

Harry and Evelyn: 

I’m such a sucker for tol and smol, first off. There’s just something so very amusing about that big of a height difference. 

Both Harry and Evelyn are closed off in their own ways (both for very good reasons) and sometimes not all that great at the whole communicating thing because of it. They’re both witty, sarcastic, and mystical in their own ways. 

But my gosh the amount of heart that those two have. Either of them hear about something big, ugly, and evil that needs dealing with and they’re there. 

Harry and Nadav: 

In which Harry is the short one in the relationship!

One thing I love here is the fact that both of them could very easily go the route of all around awfulness. Harry’s known the taste of dark magic and evil. Nadav is used to people being wary of him whether glamoured or unglamoured. 

They’d have every reason to be jerks. But they’re not. They choose not to be. And that’s something that’s so important and so genuine. Especially considering the fact that they’re both men. 

That kind of softness within stubbornness is good and needed.

[trenchcoatcigandarrogance-a]

"If I did not know any better, I'd say you're trying to come onto me." -Nadav

“Ah, you say that, do you?” John shifted on the barstool and turned to look at the big fellow beside him, a smirk plastered across his lips. “’ere, ‘ave another bit of a flirt.” Smoke curled from the cigarette between his fingers as he leaned in conspiratorially close, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I can see what you really are.”

[eddypaintings]

Fine art- Temptation

A portrait on a feeling I had.

If anyone is wondering what the flower is called it's red spider lily.

Please leave suggestions, critiques, ratings and/or what ever you want!

If you want to message me, then you don't need to hesitate!

[authorsofparadiseroleplay]

Vidar, Nadav, and Evelyn: Lovely, Dark, and Deep

Thread transfer for @deviantchronicles​

Evelyn

“I really think you need to see a doctor.”

Vidar

Vidar had been staring accusingly at the large wound in his thigh where the … whatever that thing had been had latched on. The wound was perfectly circular and conical, the creature having taken out a good chunk of flesh and muscle.

He had his hands clamped around his leg, trying to both stem the flow of blood as well as trying to get a handle on the sharp, stinging pain that radiated from the wound in time with his heartbeat. Something told him that the purely physical injury was the least of his problems.

The young woman that had helped him drag himself out of the water of the lake was still hovering nearby and her suggestion made Vidar look up at her. His reply was a sharp shake of his head and a gruff, hoarse grumble.

Slowly, he peeled one of his hands from his leg and described a rudimentary shape of a house in the air before pointing to his left.

Evelyn

Sometimes a day hike was just what the doctor ordered, especially when the realities of Evelyn’s life pressed too tightly around her. Even her home was a place of potential chaos and colossal responsibility that never quite faded to the background. There was always a world-shattering crisis at hand, always some debacle that she and Arabella got through by the skin of their teeth.

The forest always seemed to hold a paradoxical energy to Evelyn, simultaneously quiet and yet fully, deeply alive with sounds of all kinds. Birds flapping and chirping in the trees. Some sort of animal moving in the underbrush. A deer freezing and staring wide-eyed for a few seconds before bounding away. Evelyn paused in her easy pace, shifting the backpack straps on her shoulders, and closed her eyes, breathing deeply and letting her senses, usually coiled tightly around her, unfurl and thread their way through the forest. Tree and earth, water and wind reached back to meet her.

And a taint of violence, of unnatural predation, of blood and pain and fear also touched her outstretched senses. Her eyes flew open. “Oh, for Heaven’s sake.”

Her hand found the hilt of the large knife she had strapped to her thigh as a precaution, and she drew it as she lurched into a sprint in the direction the discordant sensation had come from. She kept her senses open and honed in on the disturbance as she ran. “One day,” she panted. “That’s all I ask. One nice, peaceful day without any insanity whatsoever.”

She broke through a clearing five minutes later and saw the lake, its water glittering and sloshing in the sunlight. Her eyes swept back and forth as she slowed her pace and approached more cautiously, and the man near the shore caught her attention. She moved towards him, alert for what may have attacked him, but she could see nothing. Whatever it was must have gone.

Dropping the knife and her bag to the ground, she waded into the water, caught the man by the arm, and helped him get to shore. After seeing the wound in his leg, she urged him to go to a doctor, and his wordless reply made her raise an eyebrow. Only then did she notice the scarring on his throat. She dropped into a crouch as he made a sign with his hands, and nodded with understanding, her gaze following the direction he was pointing. Through the tangle of leaves, she could see the dark, rigid structure of a cabin in the near distance.

“Okay,” she told him, reaching for her backpack and pulling it next to her. “But let’s get this packed and bound up so you don’t lose more blood on the way. Then we can talk about your particular brand of hardheadedness.” Maybe she could talk some sense into him later, but for now, she just needed to do a little damage control before he bled out. Furthermore, whatever had attacked him was probably still nearby, and getting them both to some sort of shelter seemed like a practical plan.

She had learned long ago to come prepared, and had packed a little first aid kit in her bag before leaving. After widening the bloodied rip in his pants to give her better access, she removed the canister of drinking water that she had tucked into a netting on the outside of her bag and unscrewed the lid. Then she carefully cleaned the wound with some of the water and pressed a bundle of gauze against it, following with a few loops of medical tape wrapped around his leg to hold it in place.

“What attacked you anyway?” she asked, before remembering that he probably couldn’t talk. “Um, sorry. I guess that can wait until we get you taken care of.” Rising to her feet, she offered a hand to help him up.

Vidar

The accusation of ‘hardheadedness’ was answered with a curl of his lips that may or may not have been a pout, but Vidar let her bend down to work on his leg. He watched her, craning his neck to keep both of her hands in view, but made no attempt to stop her.

He may be hardheaded, but not stupid.

Past experiences showed where the refusal of help led and honestly, he’d had enough of Nadav’s Talks to last him a lifetime.

The water stung and the pressure of the gauze she was stuffing into the wound dragged another low, uncomfortable noise from him, but Vidar kept still until her hands tied off the makeshift bandage, his only movements to assist her or to prescribe a snakelike motion in the air and then make snapping motions with his hand, mouthing ‘snake’ followed by a shrug.

Whatever had decided to try him on for a snack, it had been long, as thick around as his thigh and slippery. From the wound in his leg, he’d call it a lamprey if it hadn’t been bigger than any of those suckers had a right to be. Not that he had a way to communicate that right now, but he didn’t think that was necessary.

His would be rescuer didn’t exactly seem keen on going into the water and if it was something more of the supernatural variety, he didn’t think that she would have much of an idea either.

Which was why he was rather insistent in pushing himself to his feet and getting back to the cabin, more specifically the old, robust mobile phone that waited on the counter in the mud room.

His leg ached as he tried to get it under him, but when he carefully rested his weight on it, the feeling of pins and needles  spread like a tidal wave from the wound and took away all feeling from the hip down. In a reflex, Vidar threw out his hand, grasping her by the shoulder to keep himself from collapsing back to the ground.

Definitely something more than just a bite.

Teeth gritted painfully tight, he jerked his head towards the cabin. He really, really needed to send a message or he’d be in trouble.

The walk was slow with the painful numbness spreading into his groin and making it harder and harder to move his leg, but they managed and Vidar pushed open the unlocked door, immediately gesturing towards the mobile phone.

‘Here!’, he rasped tonelessly, hands fluttering and once the device was in his hand, he typed out a message.

“Need help. Got hurt. -V”

The phone confirmed the sending of the message with a cheerful little tune and Vidar looked up at his would be rescuer.

'Thank you.’, he mouthed and tapped three bloodied finger against his chest. 'Vidar.’, he pressed out, again in a painful sounding, toneless voice.

Evelyn

“A… snake did this?” Evelyn glanced doubtfully down at the man’s bandaged leg as she did her best to support him. She wasn’t exactly an expert, but shouldn’t a snakebite look like a pair of puncture marks, rather than the circular, gaping hole she had seen marring his leg?

Maybe it was just something snake-like, which opened up a whole host of other possibilities that she most certainly did not like, especially considering how big the thing must have been to take a bite that size out of the man. It made her all the more relieved that they were retreating to some semblance of shelter.

Evelyn wasn’t exactly what one might call tall, so she swayed a little under the man’s weight when he grabbed at her to keep from falling. She clutched at his clothing, braced her legs, and gritted her teeth, then hauled him towards the cabin. She didn’t like the way his wounded leg was dragging, as though he had lost all feeling in it. That couldn’t be good.

Entering the cabin, she helped him to the phone as he requested, noting that he was capable of some speech, though his voice was a tattered rasp that seemed to pain him when he used it. At least there seemed to be mobile service out here, which made her feel a little bit better about being out here alone with a strange man, even an injured one. Her own phone was resting in its little pocket sewn into the inner lining of her bag. Wiping her bloodied hands on her jeans– her clothes were ruined anyway, so she might as well– she watched him send out the text to whatever mysterious contact he had on there, and nodded in response to his thanks and introduction.

“Don’t mention it. I’m Evelyn.” She reached for Vidar’s arm again and guided him towards a nearby chair. “Here, let’s at least get you sitting. Do you think the wound is poisoned? Because if it is, we need to do something about that right now or you’re going to have bigger problems than you’ve already got.” A thought occurred to her, and she snatched her backpack from where she had let it slide to the floor a moment ago, retrieving a small sketchbook and a pencil from inside. Sometimes she liked to sketch the flora and fauna she saw on her meanders, and the little book was about half full of such drawings. She handed the sketchbook and pencil to Vidar. “For easier communication.”

Vidar

Poisoned.

Vidar had been thinking about it, but that didn’t make hearing it any more comfortable. He could feel his own skin getting cold and clammy and even sitting down, with no weight on his leg, the feeling of icy pins and needles hadn’t gone away.

Definitely poisoned.

And he had to agree, he was in trouble. He could only hope that Nadav had any kind of idea what was going on and how to fix it. So far, the big idiot had been pretty good about saving the day every time Vidar or Vali had needed him to.

The offered sketchbook startled a huffed laugh out of Vidar and he nodded. His own notebook, which had been given to him a long while ago and which was mostly neglected, was somewhere in a cupboard in the kitchen, but he was in no condition to go and find it. So he took the neat little volume from her, flipped it to an empty page and began to write in uneven letters:

‘Was something big. No idea what. Probably poisoned. Have a friend coming. He’ll help.’

His writing was that of someone who had learned to write late in life and wasn’t overly used to it. The almost childlike quality of his penmanship wasn’t exactly helped by the fact that his hands had started shaking.

He really hoped that Nadav would hurry up and make his way there with whatever strange ways he had.

And thinking of that, Vidar considered if it was a good idea to have a stranger there when the half giant arrived.

'Don’t need to stay. I’ll be fine.’

Vidar added to the sketchbook before holding it out to Evelyn.

Evelyn

Evelyn accepted the sketchbook back from him and read over the awkward scrawl, then arched an eyebrow at him. There was something undeniably sketchy about this man, between his insistent avoidance of hospitals and attempt to send her away.

But then again, she always avoided hospitals herself, for very good reason. For the first time, she wondered if Vidar’s aversion to hospitals had less to do with what he may have done, and more to do with what he was.

That could make things extremely complicated, and her life was already complicated enough as it was, thank you very much. It would probably be smart to do as he asked, to leave and wash her hands of this whole thing. If he wanted to take stupid risks to his own life, it was his to risk.

And if he died because she left him to fend for himself while waiting for his friend to arrive, then his blood would be on her hands. She had the ability to help him, to at least stabilize him until help arrived. She wasn’t a skilled healer, but she had some other, seemingly unrelated abilities that would most certainly slow down the spread of the poison in his body for a period of time. It would expose what she was to this man, but maybe it would be worth the risk if she could save his life.

“Dammit,” she mumbled, then tossed the sketchbook and pencil to the floor. She was going to need them for what she was about to do. “Nope, forget it. Not happening.” She took a step closer to him. “Listen, Vidar, I can slow the spread of the poison in your body, at least long enough for your friend to get here. It… isn’t exactly conventional, what I do. But it’ll be effective.” She motioned to the floor. “You’ll need to lie down for this.”

Vidar

Getting poisoned was a funny thing, Vidar found out. Not ‘haha’ funny but more 'this hurts and I don’t have full control of my body’ funny.

His hand that was clamped tight on his leg again felt like it was grabbing onto a cold, wet piece of meat under the remnants of his jeans. Even his hand itself didn’t quite feel like it was attached to him.

His usually sensitive ears felt plugged up, hearing dulled by a rush of blood and his sense of smell was overwhelmed by the sharp, metallic scent of blood. The air stung his nasal passages on every inhale, as if he was in sub zero temperatures and he was shaking all over.

So, Vidar thought that he had a good excuse for gaping up at her, blinking numbly while his brain was trying to make sense of what she was saying.

When it finally sunk in, he cast a glance towards the still open door, green eyes searching the woods outside.

He hadn’t warned Nadav.

He should have.

Quickly, he shook his head at her and jerked his chin towards the door.

The movement made him feel drunk. The unpleasant kind of drunk where it feels like your brain is lagging half a second behind and any movement will stir something nasty in your stomach. Spots started dancing in front of his eyes.

When he looked down at his leg, his head sagged bonelessly and the effort of keeping his chin from hitting his chest with a painful clang of teeth sent sharp, nauseating pain up the back of his head.

He was in real trouble.

The kind of trouble he still remembered when he could feel his life seep out of his ruined neck.

The one sharp snap of his head turned into a laboured nod then. A hard earned lifting of his head and another quick, jerky downward motion, as if he was falling asleep.

Vidar tried lowering himself off of the chair, down to the wooden floor, but the world tipped on it’s axis and for a second, he felt like he was falling.

Then he was on the ground, his body aching.

He wasn’t entirely sure if she had caught him and helped him down or if he had just not noticed the impact with everything else going on, but he glanced up at her.

Reality seemed to distort around her, like a hand brushing a sheer curtain … like hot air over asphalt.

He’d seen this before.

When he was still delirious with pain, his body weak from blood loss and he had looked up at the large, hulking figure of Nadav.

'Magick.’ he mouthed, but he wasn’t quite sure if his numb face actually made the right motions.

[loptgangandi]

@deviantchronicles​​ : "I thought", Braith began quietly once his bright eyes had picked her out from the darkness she brought with her. "I should return the ... favour? Of your little unannounced visit to my realm." Her pale face manifested further, slim body stepping from the blackness as if from a well of ink. "I mean no harm, Trickster."

unprompted ask | always accepting ! 

He is not sure whether it was the general mistrust he bears inside him or the blade gripped in his palm that had prompted such a reassurance, but he takes it with as many grains of salt as it would need to make a ring around himself. 

Not that he is prone to insulting Fae nobility with such superstitious frivolities, but he isn’t exactly accustomed to receiving them unexpectedly. There are processes to be adhered to, after all, and the Fair Folk could usually be counted on, if nothing else, to abide by courtly laws. The Courts could, at least. And though Loki is momentarily surprised, it only takes him a moment to recognise his guest and understand the reason for her lack of decorum. 

              “ I bid you welcome, Lady Crossroads. ”  He flashes a grin, and then flexes the hand the dagger had occupied not a moment before, and lets it fall to his side as he dips his head in acknowledgement. His tongue is clever and his eyes mistrustful and keen, but she will be hard-pressed to catch him in a lie.

              “ What a pleasant surprise. I was wondering when you would ... let me reciprocate your hospitality. ”

[thatgoddamnwizard]

✪ ❆ ❇ ♥ I love both of your characters that I have seen so far.

Send Me a symbol for how you feel

✪ You seem like a cool person

❆ I love your art

❇ I love the way you write

♥ *Your choice what to write*

((All of these, right back at you! Looking forward to our threads on various blogs. XD))

[tailorcadfael-blog]

Too Many Coincidences

It wasn’t the first walk of shame Cadfael had had, and undoubtedly would not be the last, but it was one that ended in more tension than usual when he finally slunk in to the shop. It was pre-opening hours, so he got the coffee machine warming up and headed upstairs to shower and let his dad know he was back. Wilhelm met him on the landing.

“Did you forget how to use your handy, boy? All night!” Wilhelm shook his own phone in Cad’s face, his eyes looking weary and a bit sunken. “All night I was trying to reach you! Nadav called me after you left, said you were upset, so I thought, surely this boy will come home and speak to his father about what he learned!”

“Dad… look, I just—”

“No answer, just voicemail. No texts. Nothing. You are not a teenager anymore!”

“Dad… please settle down.”

“And now you come back, smelling of alcohol and — I don’t know what. Where were you? Where did you sleep?” Wilhelm reached up and cupped his face in both hands, which, Cad realized now, were shaking faintly. “Why did you not call me? Just one text, that is all I ask!”

“….I’m sorry, Dad,” Cad said, and meant it. The old man’s eyes were red, the closest he’d seen him come to crying since Marlies’ funeral. Wilhelm’s mouth pulled in a straight, tense line, then he seemed to deflate a bit.

“I am afraid for you, my son.”

“Dad… I’m a grown adult. This isn’t the first time I’ve stayed out.” He paused, looking at the old man, his brow furrowing. “…What are you so afraid of? What did that— what did Nadav say to you?”

Wilhelm exhaled, letting his hands slide to Cadfael’s shoulders. He gripped them tightly, almost to a painful point.

“There are… things your mother and I should have told you. Every year that went by, we thought, maybe this is the year. Maybe he is old enough now. And every year, we couldn’t do it.” He shook his head, not even seeming to see the grown man before him, but rather, the child he remembered. “‘Let him be innocent, just one more year’, I said, every time, and she always agreed.”

“Dad, I’m not innocent.”

“You should not be burdened with what we did — what we had to do. It wasn’t fair to do that to you!”

“Dad — Dad, I need you to calm down, you’re starting to scare me, now.”

Wilhelm blinked, looked him in the eyes, and for a moment it was like he was seeing him for the first time. Then, sadness softened his expression.

“Are you hungry? Have you eaten yet?”

“No, I— no, not yet. Dad…” Cadfael reached up and settled a hand on the old man’s neck. “How about we keep the shop closed today? There was only a couple of appointments, I can call them, get them to reschedule—”

“No.” Wilhelm said, and some of his usual, grumpy tone had returned. “No, don’t speak nonsense. Anyway, I think I would prefer to keep my hands busy.” He paused, looking at him again in that weird, searching manner that sent an uneasy chill down Cadfael’s spine. “My son… you need to speak to Nadav again. Please. Listen to what he has to say. I won’t — I cannot protect you for much longer.”

“Dad…” Cadfael began to protest, but he trailed off, thinking about the thing he’d seen in the alley last night, and then what he saw even later, when Raziq was bare before him, his skin burning like a fever, the taste of him like spice and brimstone, the way his skin glinted like metal in the light — the moment he knew, whatever this man was, human, he was not. He let out a slow breath and nodded.

“Okay, Dad. I’m gonna get cleaned up, and then I’ll head over there.”

It was the most relieved he’d seen the old man look in a very long time.

It was another hour and a half before he arrived at the esoteric shop. He’d needed a few cups of coffee first, and out of a lingering sense of guilt had checked the website’s emails, made sure to schedule any new requests for later in the week. Wilhelm had practically chased him out the door by the time he’d set off, but he had showered and shaved and had clean clothes and a spare set of cotton gloves on, and was feeling, at least, a bit more human.

The bell jingled as he entered the shop, and this time he could hear the deep voice of the shopkeeper in his back room. He had someone back there, and their voices were low but judging by the tone, someone he was on relatively familiar terms with. Cad wondered, for a moment, if he should come back later, but he had a feeling he’d get an earful for it from Wilhelm, so he strode to the door of the room where Nadav had taken him yesterday and paused outside of it, clearing his throat loudly.

“Nadav? It’s me — Wilhelm’s son. I needed to— we need to talk.”

[garethmallory]

♣ + Nadav/Cadfael/Raziq

who is the better dancer?Raziq, hands down, with Cad being a close second and …. well, let’s not mention Nadav.

who likes the outdoors more and who likes the indoors more?Nadav loves the outdoors, while both Raziq and Cad prefer the indoors.

who’s a cat person and who’s a dog person?Raziq is a total cat person, Nadav loves dogs and Cadfael is … well, Cadfael.

who’s more social?They are all pretty social, actually. Raziq is probably the one that revels in the attention the most. 

who makes the bed every morning?Cadfael. After he’s finally thrown Raziq out.

who likes to keep the house cold and who likes to keep the house warm?Raziq, despite being a bloody furnace himself, likes the heat. Nadav enjoys the cold. Cadfael eternally suffers from the conflict

who takes longer getting ready?I don’t think Cad and Nadav together take even half as long on a regular basis as Raziq does, the little narcissist. 

who likes scary movies and who likes funny ones?Raziq finds horror movies, especially supernatural horror hilarious for their inaccuracy. Cadfael finds a lot of them unsettling, since they tend to come uncomfortably close to his ‘night terrors’. Nadav loves silly movies.

who screams when they see a bug and who ends up killing it?Raziq is surprisingly squeamish about bugs. Nadav usually just scoops them up and throws them out, while Cadfael does kill them sometimes.

who is more technology challenged?Nadav, definitely. Raziq loves his tech and you won’t catch him dead with last year’s model of … well, anything. Cad is really good with technology, albeit not as snobbish. Nadav is … well, he uses a phone and a computer. That’s as much as you can expect.

who would be more likely to burn something in the oven?Raziq. He’s been banned from the kitchen for burning the oven. Twice.

who talks in their sleep?Cadfael. All of them are pretty sure it’s resurfacing memories and nightmares.

who leaves the cap off the toothpaste?Raziq. For someone so obsessed with hygiene and any kind of male beauty products, he is a slob when it comes to cleaning up after himself.

who likes getting dressed up more?Raziq, absolutely. I mean, have you seen his wardrobe?

who’s better at tying ties?Cadfael. It’s kind of his job.

who recorded the answering machine message on the house phone?Raziq tries and gets overruled by the other two. Nadav ends up doing it.

who’s better at planning romantic things?Nadav, surprisingly. For all his gruff hippy biker look, he can be pretty romantic when he tries.

who takes up more space in the closet?Raziq. Or he would if the other two would allow him to take up even an inch more than exactly one third.

who has more of a sweet tooth?Nadav. He actually gets grumpy without his sugar fix.

who drinks more often?Raziq. Nadav drinks only very, very rarely and Cadfael is mostly just a social drinker who doesn’t get nearly as many social opportunities as Raziq does.

who is most likely to laugh during a serious situation?Cadfael. It’s a nervous reflex.

[aandag]

12 for the munday meme

12. Do you have any rules for yourself when it comes to this blog?

For myself? Mostly ‘don’t worry too much about what other people think because you’re always gonna piss someone off by your content’ I spend enough time anxious. I just wanna have fun. (that said if people ask me to tag something for them I’m way more than willing. I wanna interact with people and I understand that I do write things that not everyone enjoys. n///n )Also I’m very bad at making rules for myself. It’s kind of ridiculous.I try to make at least a few replies a day (and I’ve been better lately since I’ve been on vacation x3)

[canidcurios-blog]

@deviantchronicles liked for a starter. 

It had been something of a slow day for the demon, meaning at this exact moment, he was pacing around his store, inspecting his wares and making extra sure that everything was clean and in order. As a result, he was somewhat startled by the bell above the door sounding, indicating someone had entered.

He turned on the spot and inspected the gentleman who had set foot in his store. He seemed... slightly off. Not like the usual people who just wandered in. He couldn’t tell if there was anything strange about him from a glance, but the slightly off feeling gave him a hint that this customer might be the sort who knew what he wanted.

“Pardon me, I was just seeing to my wares.” The Demon said, moving back behind the counter. “Is there anything I can help you with?”

[utt-a]

hardwiredweird said: [heated stare] from Nadav - @deviantchronicles​ (because nothing works right now)

Some sexual tension / attraction prompts

If Ororo had known becoming the sorcerer supreme's apprentice meant running his errands, she'd likely turned down Stephan's offer to awake the latent magic inherited from her mother's line. The insult of having the girl behind the counter attempt to scam her into purchasing a necklace that was supposedly enchanted to bring a restful night's sleep was enough to consider leaving all his package in this last store and flying back to Westchester. 

"The lavender oil this cord has been soaked in might help, but..." Ororo hummed knowingly, her eyes telling the young brunette her sale pitch was a waste of time and breath. Ororo's sense about what was and wasn't touched by magic had yet to fail her. "No, thank you." Achmed's teachings wouldn't allow the former thief to say more about it with tourists around. In a big city, one had to get creative when inking out a living, she could tolerate if not always respect a hustle when she stumbled on one, so long as no one got hurt. "I am only here for the herbs on this list, and-" 

Someone was staring at them from the back of the shop, staring at her Ororo realized when she looked over a shoulder. A stare that left heat trailing in the wake of dark eyes as they moved over every inch of visible form, seeming to consider what she'd look like without the sundress. 

 "uh," she coughed, feeling some kind of unintentional spell being woven watching him watching her and the need to break it before speaking again. "The owner. Nadav, you must be Nadav? Doctor Strange said you would have something for him."

[coexistensis-blog]

Continued for @deviantchronicles

“Like I am intimidated by that,” he snapped. His lithe fingers were surprisingly strong when they buried in Vidar’s shoulder and tugged. “Get back here, before you know it those gashes get infected and I ain’t waiting for Nadav to come and save me from here.”

He felt, perhaps, slightly bad about the wound being his fault, it had been his own precarious balancing on the cliff that had caused Vidar to tug him back, and, he didn’t know why, had caused Hal to try and push the large man away from him, just over the edge.

“I’ll be quick.”

[trenchcoatcigandarrogance-a]

“ this better not be what i’m thinking it is. ” -deviantchronicles Nadav

"Blood of the innocent." Cigarette dangling from his lips, John carefully tipped the beaker, emptying it into the goblet. "Nicked it from the lab of the nearest pediatric, didn't I? No harm done." He eyed Nadav. "Not getting squeamish on me over there, are you, squire? You want your mate to find his way back to his body, you gotta pay the bridge toll."

[silvertonguedgod-archived]

"It feels like I should know you.", the woman who speaks up from the shadows between worlds has a pale white face that falls away into metallic blackness, like ink has dried on her skin. Her eyes are the colour of tar and narrowed in contemplation. "And yet I know I have never seen your face before." (from Braith, if that wasn't obvious)

The man who hears the woman speak tilts his head, corvid in consideration. His eyes pale as they narrow, and he slowly peels his lips back from his teeth ------ a grin of genuine amusement, and still a mask as true as any he wears. The magic of her creeps across his skin like static electricity, like his brother’s bolts striking near ------ and here, at the place where two rivers meet, he leans back on the heels of his hands and curls his fingers into the deep moss, legs outstretched toward the rushing water. 

“ I imagine you do know me, ”  he tells the Faerie outlined in black ink.  “ If merely by name, or by some sense of the thing that I am. ”

He looks away for a moment, and when he looks back, his flesh is ruddy and features round and fair, and his hair is as dying embers. Another look away, and his face and hair return to their original state, autumn fire melting from both and leaving them white and black as winter, dagger-sharp in countenance and shadowed. 

“ Grant me a name of yours, my Lady of the Twilight Places, and you shall have one of mine in return. ”

[southern-belle-outcasts]

Tilting her head as she regarded the blond, Rogue raised an eyebrow curiously. “Ah ain’t got shit t’do with any of this. The arm thing, pretty sure they were bein’ suspicious of it cuz people tend t’augment things into weapons ‘round here,” she mused quietly. “Ah’m sure if Ah asked Scott t’get his head out his ass and just have Hank look it over ya can have it back.”

She shrugged, sitting cockeyed on the edge of the table opposite, one leg hanging off to the point she was practically still standing. “Why were ya ‘round here t’begin with? We ain’t exactly in the main part of the city,” she pointed out, green eyes looking intently at his face, studying his behavior. He didn’t seem like a threat.

“Ah s’ppose they told me t’do the talkin’ given most people don’t like havin’ telepaths waltzin’ round their heads. It’s not pleasant.” Go figure they would use her Brotherhood training any time they didn’t want to start off heavy handed. Lips pressed together tightly for a brief moment, sighing before loosening back up.

“So, Ah would just gimme a reasonable truth so Ah don’t get blown off,” she said with shrug, fixing the strap of her glove that was starting to loosen on her wrist.

@southern-belle-outcasts

{hope you don’t mind a random starter but I was curious about having my touch averse boy meet your touch averse girl}

The young man some of the others dragged into the school (and were now eyeing suspiciously) looked decidedly uncomfortable, even if he clearly did his best to keep his back straight, chin up and an almost haughty, affected expression on his face. 

His left hand was on the table he had been seeted at, balled into a fist that looked as if he was keeping it deliberately lose and his right hand was missing. The sleeve of his shirt hanging lose and empty from a few inches below his elbow, impossible to hide, even with the way he was pressing it against his side.

His blue eyes snapped up to meet hers the second she entered the room and something in his posture shifted, turned towards her as if recognising some sort of authority there. Right or not, he clearly believed her to be some kind of ringleader among her peers.

“I wasn’t trying to trespas.”, he opened the conversation, voice soft and careful, as if not daring to speak any louder … as if trying not to draw too much attention to himself. The smooth Received Pronounciation was marred with something like stress however, a small warble. “I don’t care who you think you are, you have no right to hold me here. Or to keep my arm from me!”