#legaciestold

[myersbprd]

Send 💬  for me to make you a starter with a random line of dialogue from this generator.

@legaciestold said: 💬 (from elena)

Elena has been asking John questions about Liz that he's not certain how to answer. After all, ' how they feel ' has never been particularly straightforward for them, has it? They had sidestepped around it when they first met ( helping her smooth out her thoughts about the Bureau and Hellboy had been his goal, though his own emotions persisted in spite of himself — making things more complicated than they already were ). Then, perhaps they had finally been on the cusp of something before that fateful mission in Maine, where everything changed for him; he still feels as though he's figuring out what about him is altered and what's the same even now, though she doesn't look at him any differently.

In fact, his cousin is currently saying something about just that: how they look at each other. She really is determined to wring an explanation out of John, isn't she?

With a roll of his eyes and a shake of his head as levity laces through his voice, he replies, "Try focusing more on your life and less on mine!"

[everythingheard]

@legaciestold said: ❛ Pandas don’t eat macaroni. ❜ (diana to steve)

It's so much more convenient being an insomniac in the twenty-first century.

That being said, Steve's not entirely certain that's what he is, but it's what he feels like. Falling asleep is no longer an activity he relishes as he once did, when he would go for stretches of time where catching more than a few hours of rest in a comfortable bed was almost euphoric. Now, it rather unsettles him instead. Although Steve doesn't think knows that the gods won't rescind their decision to restore life to him again ( he's too useful to them, they would likely deem it a waste ), he can't help the discomfiture that prickles the back of his mind when he lays there in the dark. What if he closes his eyes, submits to the weight of slumber, and never comes back?

That won't happen, it won't, just — what if?

So, sometimes, when the question grows louder and louder until it drowns out the ticking of his watch on the bedside table, he foregoes falling asleep at any reasonable hour all together. At the very least, there are plenty of twenty-first century ways for Steve to occupy himself without disturbing Diana in the bed beside him. He can listen to any music he wants or these radio programs they call ' podcasts ' now with wireless earbuds, use a softer light from his phone to draw or write — hell, he can even read a book on the damn thing! Insane.

The latter is precisely what he's doing when Diana begins to shift around beneath the covers. For a moment, Steve wonders if he's bothered her until he catches sight of the furrowed expression upon her face. Is she having a nightmare?

"Diana? Diana." Setting his cell aside, he leans over to gently grip her shoulders. However, the nonsensical phrase ( ' Pandas don't eat macaroni ' ) that falls past her lips before she finally opens her eyes leaves him utterly bemused. As their gazes meet, a grin creeps across his countenance. "Shit, what kind of dream were you having?"

[legaciestold]

dynamic edits (incorrect quotes)

vlad dracula (@everythingheard), mina dracula (@legaciestold), claudia van helsing (@legaciestold), & robert renfield (@renfie1ds)

[renfie1ds]

@legaciestold said: "I'm finally graduating uni next month, Uncle Robert! You're going to be at my graduation right?" -claudia (so wholesome, my heart)

There's so much to be done today — Renfield cycles through each and every task in his head as he shuts the briefcase with a satisfying click. He enjoys business, nevertheless, at least when it's not for the mere sake of it, and none of this is. Besides, he's rather respectable now, isn't he? As respectable as Renfield can be, that is. That's something. It's more than something.

His thoughts are soon interrupted by the familiar voice of Claudia as she crosses the threshold, drawing his attention to her face and the pure excitement which resides there. A grin rises to his lips at the sight of the girl he's watched over since she was a young child proclaiming her imminent graduation ( it was her ' great-grandparents ' who had made it possible for him to obtain his own degree over a hundred and twenty years ago — life does speed along when you're actually living it ).

"Well, of course I shall. I wouldn't miss watching you walk across that stage for anything in the world." Stepping out from behind the desk, Renfield draws her into a hug. "But I hope you don't mind if I always think of you as my little niece, even once you're making a name for yourself and all that. Can't quite help it." Finally he pulls back so that he can see her face. "I'm so proud of you."

[spookyagentfmulder]

|| Just saying, I may have completely flailed when you followed my blog. Thanks for the follow! Your blog and writing is phenomenal!

Why thank you for the compliment! You're such a sweetheart. Don't be afraid to send someone my way! Tbh I saw you write Bella Swan and got excited at the possibilities.

And thank you for the follow in the first place!

@legaciestold

[honorhearted]

❝ do you want to bake cookies with me? i was going to make them to bring to the foundation tomorrow. which means I need to make a lot of cookies.❞ (from claudia, legaciestold)

Holiday m.eme / @legaciestold

"Do I want to b.ake c.ookies?" Unable to keep the scornful amusement from his tone, Ben reminded her, "I'm not exactly Gordon R.amsay here. I can whip up a mean bowl of cereal, and I can follow basic instructions...but I also tend to take a book and read during prep, which leads to lots of burnt meals."

Despite his reservations, he also didn't think of himself as an arsehole, so he flashed a smile and shrugged. "If you don't mind any misshapen, potentially overdone c.ookies, then I'd be happy to help. Just don't say I didn't warn you..."

[wiedzmacienia]

an anon asked: if you could bring back one person who would it be? and why? (tum.blr ate the ask so i'm pretty sure this was to the effect of what the ask had said.)

sea hues reflect against the low light of the house, green with flecks of blue staring at the flames in the fire place as she smooths the hair on a child's sleeping head. octavia had fallen asleep awhile before, henry sitting in the living room of the rarely used house in connecticut while sarah was off on a mission. despite henry tallmadge's incessant need to protect his wife sarah, the two had made the decision that when they would do missions for division they'd rarely be on the same ones. katarzyna knew it was hard for them considering their line of work but it had been an important choice her great (times many) grandson had decided to make when his daughter was born. it was a decision katarzyna supported for it ensured octavia would always have a parent should something happen as henry refused to heed her plea for him to abstain from joining the order. she'd only wanted to protect him. she'd lost so much over the years, outlived children and grandchildren and seen wars take them and henry had been one of the few left of the family she'd once made so long ago. and she could see ben (@honorhearted) in him, even all these generations down the line. henry had had ben's stubbornness too.

henry's question is one which brings her gaze back toward him, her mind wondering what prompted such a question. maybe it was the house. it was so rarely used and so filled with things that exuded history and memory. they'd only come there because octavia had wanted to see the horses and while many times katarzyna had attempted to keep a distance lest her own darkness touch them, she'd found such a thing harder once henry had made his choice to join division. and then sarah and octavia had become factors too. his question is a loaded one and katarzyna thinks it would have had a different answer depending upon the time of her life she thinks on as flashes of memory cross her mind.

had she been asked such a thing in the days or even years after her she'd been brought back to life from burnt ash she thinks the answer would have been an easy one. her parents. so desperate was she for some form of guidance. for the embrace of loving parents in a harsh world. they had given themselves (and many others) to bring her and kasper (@everythingheard) back. and all the girl of fifteen who had feld the destruction of her village with her twin brother with nothing but the clothes on their backs had wanted was her parents. but they wouldn't have been happy if only one had been brought back and not the other. for they were each other's heart. and.. if her parents had been brought back then her and kasper would be no more. there was always balance to spells. her parents gave themselves for them. to bring them back would be to cancel the sacrifice they'd made. that hadn't stopped a blonde child from asking god for them back in those moments she'd awake in the night from nightmares of fire longing for the embrace of a parent to chase the bad dreams away.

katarzyna thinks if she had been asked after she'd joined the order-- once she'd truly bonded with zalan that was-- she'd have said rozina. for she could see the pain he held over the death of his daughter. the sadness and the longing to have her back. his grief was like her own though perhaps worse. yes, she knew now that it was worse. a parent shouldn't outlive their child. and katarzyna had come to see zalan as a father and him her as a daughter. if she had been able to give rozina back to him, she thinks she would have even if it would have meant so much of her story with him would have been wiped away. and what would have happened then? without his training and the experiences they'd shared she held no doubt she would not have seen the centuries following.

it would be easy too to name the friends who had died over the years. the friends who had been taken in the war and in battles. beth who had been lost to the british and who's death still lingered in matthew's eyes made so much worse by the state of her spirit even now. the loyal officer john (@myersbprd) that had served her cause during the revolution. even his wife davina (@legaciestold) their children taken in by her after their deaths and forever entwined in the story of her family, of the ancestors of henry too. yet as much pain as their losses had brought, no pain was like the loss of the single soul which was the true answer to henry's question. the soul which sat within her heart and would forever live there until her dying breath. a soul which had never truly lived and yet was real and pure and loved by her. for katarzyna had given her husband two beautiful children, samantha and george, twins like her and her brother. and they had raised so many children as their own in the orphanage they had built. children like georgia, oliver, and grace, john and davina's children who had brought about the idea of the orphanage when their parents had died.

but...

it was the child who she had failed which caused her soul to ache. the child which her body had been unable to carry to life because of the darkness of which had brought her back to life so long ago. nature had let her have the twins but had refused her body anymore. two had been brought back from ash and two would be brought forth to her. no more. no less. and her body had been unable to handle another pregnancy to the end no matter how badly she had wanted it. no matter how hard she pleaded to god for it once she had dared to hope. they hadn't planned any of the children but why had fate given her another just to take them away? why had god? there was no loss like that of a child. no pain quite like carrying a child nearly to term and giving birth to one who had no cries. and if katarzyna could bring back one soul it would be that child that she and ben had lost. that nature hadn't let her give life to.

katarzyna looks away from henry and down to the child laying with her head across her lap, dreaming peacefully. so unaware of the dangers of the world around them. (of the dangers that would soon take octavia's parents from her and bring back ben to katarzyna in the same breath just to attempt to take him too in just a few short years.) "there's no loss like that of losing a child. it's something i promise you will never know." perhaps it's not quite a true answer to his question but she thinks from the way she feels his gaze on her he understands in some measure. it's the only answer he was going to get from her on such a topic and, it was honest.

[writelikeyouarerunningoutof]

@legaciestold | continued from here.

it goes back to comfortable, the quiet between them. the way he feels like he can be himself - he doesn’t have to be action man, or the captain, or anyone other than just becker with jessica. he never has, right from the beginning, even when he was keeping her - keeping everyone - at arm’s length because he’d just lost not just his team but his friends. but jessica - jessica is and always has been different. she’s made her place in his life as a colleague, a friend, someone so intrinsically important to him that the thought of losing her makes him lose his head. everyone has seen that, even when becker tried to go back to keeping that distance between them. that plausible deniability that jessica is more important to him than just about anybody.

not anymore. he’s not doing that anymore. not denying the fact that he cares about her as more than just a friend. not denying the fact that spending time with her is a highlight and something he looks forward to and actively seeks. not denying the way she makes his day brighter, the smiles she puts on his face. not denying that she makes him stumble over his words as much as he does her - stay warm, really? - and that it makes him laugh that they can joke about it. he is sure she sees the huff of laughter he lets out at her words, the barely evident smile on his lips. jessica would know that on anyone else, this would be a beam. “connor was talking about a new chinese place a couple of streets away.” becker’s been wanting to try it, but not alone. if he’s honest, he’s been wanting to try it with jessica. idly, he wonders who won the bet about when he’d get his act together and whether this counts.

[myersbprd]

𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐃  &  𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐅𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄    (a  series  of  nonverbal  prompts .    ‘ my ’ muse  belongs  to  the  one who  posted  the  meme  -  send   “ + reverse ”   to  reverse  the  prompts .)

@legaciestold said: lean (from Liz)

The ride back to headquarters feels endless.

To be fair, it's not unexpected. After all, they'd had to cross state borders into Pennsylvania to deal with the small band of goblins snatching hikers off state park trails. The particularly nasty sort who were predisposed to utilizing their victims' blood as dye for clothing, the murders had initially been attributed to an indiscriminate coven of vampires after drained bodies were discovered; the true culprits proved far easier for the BPRD to handle, though civilian lives had been needlessly lost regardless.

John's not certain why ( perhaps it's the small towns they had driven through to reach their destination, or maybe the crime scene photos they had viewed of a family who's counted among the dead ), but the mission has jolted his parents to the forefront of his thoughts. Were they waylaid by such creatures, only those that were far more careful to clean up after themselves? It would explain so much that's never made sense to him concerning their disappearance, like the way they seemed to vanish as if they had simply driven straight off the edge of the world. Humans might find it difficult to ensure so complete a vanishing of two grown adults and a vehicle, yet someone else —

He's brought back to the here and now by a sudden weight against his shoulder that sends his gaze flickering to the side. Liz.

"Hey." The greeting is offered quietly, John's voice almost prompted to softness amid the dwindling light filtering in through the backseat windows. Although he knows that she doesn't anticipate him filling every moment of quiet between them ( they've always been good at those comfortable silences that are intimate but devoid of expectations ), he wonders if this time, it may have felt distant — his fault. "I guess I went somewhere else."

[everythingheard]

@legaciestold said: "i believe it will be good for you, bruce, in the wake of what's happened. the boy too, that you are adopting him. allison and ian bring much joy to my life, even in times of great stress." (elseworld; diana to bruce placed in the aftermath of mos in that timeline)

Good for him.

There are times when Bruce is no longer certain of what precisely that might entail, and part of him resists the insinuation now. If he finds himself shrouded in moments when he fails to do what's best for himself, how is he to care for a child? Even with the reassuring knowledge of Alfred's aid, perhaps this is nothing short of madness.

And yet — when he had seen that lone figure standing amid the rubble that had crushed the boy's parents, it had felt as though the decision was already set in his mind, reservations and madness be damned. For a split-second, Bruce had been thrust back to that night: just a child standing between his parents' dead bodies while their blood trickled and pooled along the cold pavement. What might have become of him and Kara were it not for Alfred? What if this boy didn't have that?

As it had turned out, he had discovered ( during an inquiry as Bruce Wayne as opposed to the Batman ) that Dick hadn't had anyone left alive who cared. Impulse had led Bruce to where he is now, speaking with Diana while his new ward settles in at Wayne Manor.

"I don't know what I'm doing." A shake of his head followed. "He's older than I was when my parents died, but — " His gaze, which had lowered while his mind raced, lifts to meet hers once more. "I never imagined myself as anyone's guardian, not as myself."

[everythingheard]

Life is funny, in the most macabre of senses. When Enzo was a human, he found himself turned into a vampire while in pursuit of a cure for his consumption; now, he's a vampire who's dissected every day like a living cadaver in order to discover medical cures for humans. Or perhaps ironic is the more proper word, yet who has he had to ask? A handful of cellmates over the decades, though none of them have lasted terribly long. All have eventually died when one experiment or other was pushed past limits even the undead might heal from, or killed when their psyche finally snapped and they became more trouble than they were worth. He's considered how he's managed to endure, and the only possible answer he can conjure is hope. Human or vampire, Enzo has always possessed a nauseating amount of it, despite the fact that he keeps it to himself ( locked away in some part of him that even Wes fucking Maxwell can never seem to reach ). Recently, as the seventieth anniversary of his captivity has come and gone, he's questioned whether that hope is as torturous as the tests he's subjected to, a torment he refuses to release like holding the blade of a knife in your hand until it slices deep into the palm. Maybe the grip it has on him as has driven him insane already.

When a new intern appeared in the basement a few weeks ago, it had meant little to Enzo. She was young, pretty, seemed smart — just mad scientist Maxwell's type if there ever was one! Most of the students were terrified of him, even if they attempted to feign otherwise in front of their new boss, and he had long ago grown tired of making them flinch for the mere hell of it. With the way Maxwell withheld blood from him unless necessary, any movement felt akin to a chore, one he wouldn't waste on frightening them or trying to speak to them like they were capable of communicating with him in a normal fashion. Once, Enzo had asked an intern with a pair of keys sticking out of their pocket what sort of car they drove ( he likes cars and he's so lonely that he holds conversations in his own head, so sue him ), and they had gaped at him as if he had just inquired after their blood type ' because they smelled like his favorite ' or something equally vampiric. He hadn't expected this new girl, Bella, to be any different, even if she did remind him a little of Maggie, the only aid who had ever treated him with any sort of kindness here; that had been in the 1950's, a long time ago.

Only Bella was different. The first time she had communicated with him, shifting to stand in front of the camera pointed at his cell so that their faces wouldn't be visible, he had rather suspected it to be some kind of sick trick instigated by Maxwell. Although Enzo had barely spoken to her then, far too suspicious to expend his energy on any twisted psychological games, she continued to try. When Bella sat with her back against the wall opposite him with her a pad of paper in hand as if to take notes, she asked him questions about the Augustine Society: what they did, why they did it, the names of who was involved, where they kept certain things. Because of course he knows everything. They believe Enzo will never leave, so why bother to hide it? Although they didn't have long during these interludes, he grudgingly answered some of her inquiries, but not all; if there was even the slightest chance that he could utilize such information as leverage in the future, he wasn't apt to give it up so easily. Besides, while she could act as if whatever she was planning was in his best interest, he was no longer naive enough to take her at her word.

Nevertheless, the day arrived when Bella was able to offer Enzo more than mere sentiment. Rushing into the basement unexpectedly, a familiar key ready in her hand, she had opened the cell door and beckoned him out. For once, he wasn't of a mind to question her motives; the possibility of freedom was far too intoxicating to do anything other than take it — only he found a wooden bullet launched into his shoulder before he could even cross the cage's threshold, with Bella now closed in with him, abandoned by Maxwell ( prepared to indirectly murder a member of the very species the Society was purportedly attempting to save in order to silence her, how charming ). Slumping back against the wall, Enzo can fairly feel himself deflating. The loss of even those mere seconds of hope are enough to crush him, to make him wish he had never clutched onto it the way he had for so many years; maybe it would have been better to trade sanity for madness, because at least all of this would have been over with a long time ago.

When Bella speaks, his gaze flicks from his wound to her face with thinly veiled vexation. "It doesn't hurt, if that's what you're asking. After getting sliced open and stitched back together every single day for the past seven decades, a bullet in the shoulder doesn't do much for me." Why is she asking? Because she's afraid that if it's too painful, Enzo will suck her veins dry to mitigate it? Bella might almost fool him with that veneer of concern if he didn't know humans better than that.

Until she mentions her blood. That's a new one.

"Give me some of your blood? You say that like I couldn't just take it from you if I wanted." He pushes away from the wall, the next few steps he takes closing what distance remains between them; he can't recall the last time he was this close to a person who didn't intend to torture him, and he doesn't stop until there are mere inches left. "Like you'd expect me not to." Catching her chin between his thumb and index finger, Enzo tips her head back until their eyes meet. "Like you're not afraid of what I could do to you." And he can feel how much he wants it, his fangs elongating as his gaze grows dark. After surviving on nothing aside from a small paper cup of blood a day, the ease with which his teeth could pierce the skin of her neck and refuse to release until —

A sharp inhale of breath, then Enzo abruptly drops his hold on her. It seems the resistances he's built up works for this, too, at least for now. Or maybe it's how she'd looked at him, as if she was worried for his circumstances instead of her own. "You'll need to dig it out first. The bullet in my shoulder. I'd do it myself, but I can't see it as well, and it'll save time." He maps her features with a glance ( don't get hung up on the sweet and pretty ones, St. John, we've been here before ). "You won't hurt me. I promise."

@everythingheard​ (enzo)

seattle had been ripe with new discoveries, a new world presented to her for while the dark-haired college student had been aware of the eldritch world that existed within what seemed to be a mundane one, this city was no forks. the inception of a system which partook in a delicate truce had been in existence far before she had even been bore into this world. factions controlled the city, a surprising number of beings living and working alongside humans. factions which now found themselves in chaos as accusations were thrown and victoria continued her war upon innocent people out of some psychotic need for revenge. here there were allies. here bella could call one of her father’s deputies to deal with the body of a vampire. here people were actively attempting to stop victoria’s plans. plans bella had been left exposed to when one family which had entered her life and become so engrained within it had decided to simply throw away the things they had once promised. while she could not be thankful for being left to endure victoria and her horrors, bella could be thankful that through the experience of loss she had built herself back up. that through the events which had followed, she had learned about her family, learned about what she was capable of. learned to protect herself because she refused to stand by and be prey. refused to stand by and let people get hurt in some game a vampire decided to thrust her into because victoria couldn’t accept that james had wrought his fate unto himself. he made the choice to target her. and that choice had spelled his end. 

what bella had not intended for in-between her classes and quest to hunt down victoria and her fledglings was to be thrust into the inner-workings of a secret society with ill intensions. horrific discoveries uncovered once she had allowed herself to be brought into their ranks. she had not corrected their assumptions of her attitude toward vampires though was unsettled that professor maxfield had somehow known the fate which had befallen her mother and step-father. perhaps it was ironic, that she had activ;ely sought to dispatch certain vampires and yet could still be disgusted by the treatment of others at the hands of the augustine society. once discovered, bella no more had the ability to stand by and allow their actions to continue than she could go without water. maybe if vampires didn’t have a choice in their actions she could accept it, though, even then bella was hard-pressed to ever believe she could condone torture and medical experiments upon a living or undead creature. they were still people, still felt pain, still deserved common decency and the simple fact was: they had a choice in their actions, or most which had not succumbed to a ripper-like state did. how professor maxfield who seemed so normal and respected by his students could justify what he was doing was beyond bella and prompted her to bring her father into play. 

it’s two weeks and a few more blood bags later when she finally gathers enough evidence that her father would be able to use to make some arrests. it might not be enough to take down the society as a whole, the theft of chemicals and supplies from campus to conduct off-the-books experiments but it was a start. it was something tangible. she uploads files and pictures to her dropbox, sending a text to her father and then makes her way to the cells in the basement. she knows she doesn’t have a lot of time and it does not help that she doesn’t have a solid plan in place for his escape. but maxfield wasn’t in the house. there was a small window. she could release enzo, they could get out before he came back. perhaps it was a risk, to place trust in a vampire who had been terrorized by a society for decades. he could kill her. she knew what some vampires were capable of. and yet, she chooses to have faith. they had a choice and she had never, in the short time they’d interacted, shown him unkindness unless forced to make comments in front of maxfield which were directly contradicted by her actions toward enzo in private-- or at least as private as could be when a camera was down there, her seeming to scribble notes in a notebook as a show. 

everything goes to hell, however, once she gets the cell open because, while she had managed to disable to camera, maxfield had been able to jump into action far quicker than she’d expected. a wooden bullet is sent hurling toward enzo, getting him in the shoulder and forcing him backward and when bella takes action to try and fight she finds herself with a bloody gash on the side of her face and thrust into the cell too. she tells maxfield he isn’t going to get away with this yet he barely acknowledges her, seemingly distressed by this course of events though not enough to remove her from the cell with a vampire when she was bleeding. he leaves them like that, blaming her for what fate he believes will befall her.

 bella was getting really tired of people justifying murder. 

he wasn’t any better than the vampires he seemed to hate so much. the only silver lining to this whole situation was that if her father didn’t have enough to take them down before, he certainly would once he’d be able to charge them with kidnapping and attempted murder of a student. 

“are you okay?” she questions enzo. there isn’t fear in her voice, at least not for herself, but there is concern for him. “uh-- we got to get that bullet out of you so you can start to heal and, uh, i guess i can give you some of my blood and then.. then we’ll figure out a next step.” she’s only half-talking to him really, trying to talk out  some sort of plan. one thing at a time. 

[renfie1ds]

@legaciestold said: a four-year-old claudia watches her uncle robert with curious eyes, hyper-focused. she's been left with him for the time being as her parents and grandparents were busy. then with no qualms she grabs a worm and eats it making a face. "that doesn't taste good."

Under the impression that Claudia is preoccupied with the flowers while they're out outside, Renfield decides not to waste the dying aphid on a nearby leaf ( they're awful pests as it is, always damaging the dahlias and asters blooming in the estate gardens ). Removing a small, carved box from his inner jacket pocket, he sets it on the ground beside him as he carefully scoops the insect into his palm.

It doesn't feel so long ago that collecting little lives in this manner filled him with dread. How different things are now.

However, when Renfield turns to drop the bug into his coffer, his blue widen until they resemble saucers as the little girl beside him promptly removes a worm and eats it. Before he can command her to spit it out, it's been swallowed and a verdict allotted on the flavor.

Oh, fuck.

"Well, no, they don't." Somehow, he manages to shove the aphid into the portable repository and fit the lid on without dropping it. "So, you shouldn't eat them. Ever. Alright?" Claudia will be perfectly fine regardless of her distasteful snack, yet Renfield can't help feeling rather panicky.

What a shit way to learn to never leave a box of bugs around a child.

Rising to his feet, he tucks it away again and offers her a hand. "But cookies will do, won't they? Let's go inside and make some. How about that?"

[caracarnn]

What’s attractive about you?

tagged by: @adversitybloomed tagging: @luckhissoul @xhideyourfires @legaciestold @uncxntrxllable @forwardlion

[heirofhermes]

Rate your muse’s traits! (0-10)

Compassion: 8/10

Bitterness: 5/10

Happiness: 5/10

Politeness: 11/10

Chivalry: 9/10

Pride: 5/10

Honesty: 9/10

Bravery: 11/10

Recklessness: 4/10

Ambition: 10/10

Loyalty: 9/10

Love: 8/10

Sense of family: 2/10

Attractiveness: 8/10

Agility: 7/10

Sex drive: 7/10

tagged by: @pyrokineticwarrior

tagging: @thejadedking, @mythosisms, @soncfthewitch, @legaciestold, @luposcainus, @demonstigma, @mythvoiced, @heroesvow

[honorhearted]

"i can not testify to bradford or lee."

"I can," Benjamin bit back, a dark frustration unfurling across his eyes. "My very open scuffle with Bradford proves his animosity towards Washington, towards our Cause. And our woman in New York dug up evidence that General Lee is a traitor. I understand that we need sound proof, but my God..." His upper lip curled into a growl. "Just look at your neck! Must we wait until someone is dead to prove their guilt?"

Katarzyna sighed. "we shall have to see what comes of our time with hickey... though, i would much rather rid us of the three of them immediately, confessions or not."

"If I didn't believe Hickey a coward, and therefore willing to spill valuable information, then I would agree with you," Benjamin grumbled. "Do you intend to use magic to torture him? Or shall I apply physical duress?"

Perhaps he shouldn't be so eager to rough up Hickey, but given what had nearly happened -- what he'd nearly lost -- Benjamin's insides were practically boiling with poorly repressed fury.

As Katarzyna spoke about Kerr, he calmed somewhat, an exhale escaping through his nose, long and slow. "'The enemy of your enemy is your friend,'" he softly repeated. "Yes, that's certainly true...though the problem is finding out just who considers that trio as such."

"i will have to teach you chinese so you can read that book i brought you in its truest form," Katarzyna announced. "alas, let us go deal with the traitor first."

Benjamin nodded. Briefly, he lifted a hand and skimmed the hair back from her eyes, offering a tired smile as his thumb traced the curve of her cheek. "I'll do whatever you need," he avowed. "Let's see it done."

--

The cabin set up for questioning was secluded and dark, save for the lone lantern flickering upon a table in the corner of the room. In the center, Hickey sat restrained and bound to a chair, his face bruised and swollen from Benjamin's earlier act of self-defense.

Nodding to Katarzyna, he lifted a bucket of questionably dirty water, then sluiced it across Hickey's face, startling the traitor into consciousness with a series of sharp, halting coughs.

"Enough," Benjamin warned. "We are not here for games, Sergeant, so I suggest you start talking."

a breath is taken in, deep and calming as benjamin meets her gaze and then looks away. a variety of factors were at war within her mind, all of which carry their own weight. she is thankful general kerr has avoided a worse fate than being delayed and if she thinks too much upon such she may have to admit her own bias which accompanies such favor she shows upon him due to the nature of their connection. (he was not her blood but he was her family.) instead, her mind considers the soon to be ramifications of what has caused the delay, mulling over her thoughts for a moment before ben's words register within her mind.

'i am thinking far too much.'

a strange memory is sparked as she lets her gaze fall back upon the map. images of healing wounds and the soft and relieved gaze of her brother meeting her own as a man stood before them with an offer and a world much larger than they had ever known presented. centuries had passed since such moments yet now she can recall when her eyes had been opened to so much more than the provincial life she'd known. when knowledge and vampires and histories had been shown her and it had been all too much at once and not enough all the same. such had shaken and conflicted her in the moment both because of it's vastness and the simple fact her and kasper's parents had kept such larger truths from them. (to protect them, she reminds herself, though such had been harder to accept then.) perhaps it is not quite the same, yet she understands a modicum of the journey of knowledge she's set forth upon him. this was new, it conflicted in many ways with his understanding of the world prior. but he trusted her and she trusted him. that was what mattered now as the realities of the world were coming crashing back.

'i am thinking far too much, but the primary source of contention is hickey, bradford and lee. the fact that any of them are roaming free right now is an insult -- having hickey isn't enough.'

a surge of painful soreness meets her neck upon his words, a reminder of darker aspects of the previous night awakened by the names mentioned. she releases her breath unevenly, unrealizing she had held it. "i can not testify to bradford or lee." katarzyna reminds him, frustration in her tone though she is sure of their involvement just as much as she is assured of her own willingness to put an end to the three men for good in a most brutal fashion. however, this was a new world and the men were not hers, but washingtons'. she had to concede to a middle ground if this alliance was to work.

"we shall have to see what comes of our time with hickey.. though, i would much rather rid us of the three of them immediately, confessions or not." she confesses with a sigh though her tone conveys she's conceded this was not a present option.

with his shift in question her light hues move back toward tallmadge's features. "delayed is not the same as thwarted. kerr's end goal remains the same. i have no doubt word will come soon enough of his success now that his path is set. as for what this delay means... while unexpected and certainly not ideal at present, it may perhaps present us with a stronger advantage in the grand scheme than we could have had if not for how such has chosen to play out." she states then quotes in chinese before translating into english. "the enemy of your enemy is your friend."

katarzyna steps closer then, just for a moment. "i will have to teach you chinese so you can read that book i brought you in it's truest form." she's fairly certain he hasn't gotten a chance to truly look over it given the events which have unfolded since she slammed such down upon his desk. "alas, let us go deal with the traitor first." perhaps it's because she knows it surprises him when she speaks other languages, or merely because she seeks to lighten the moment for a brief second before they go out into the darkness of the day and away from the place they shared during the night, but she speaks such in latin this time.

[charmantevamp]

What kind of love are you?

Love as a Force of Nature

Your love is like whiplash –– it comes in with the rain, it blows the doors wide open. When you fall in love, it is sudden and hard and immense. It is powerful. It is earth-shaking and world-ending. Nature is a force, and that force can be destructive if you're not careful. See how the world is doused in gasoline and set on fire –– your love consumes, your love takes, your love burns. You're hot and cold all at once, a hurricane and a wildfire bound together in skin, and when you're in love, it can feel like it's eating you alive from the inside out. When you love, it is with everything you have because it is everything you have. Be careful, darling, because not everyone survives the storm.

Borrowed from: @corvidamned <3

Tagging: @honorhearted, @pagetreader (Peggy Shippen), @extasiie, @legaciestold (your choice), @bratprinced, @manufactoredxbyxdesign, @apphrodite & @annastrxng. (if you want).