#lihwa: lying is right / main

[stainedpast]

Oh come on, she won’t be dying at the hands of these bastards; she is too skilled for that. Oh! She is pushed to the side in a protective manner, probably, before getting grabbed by the wrist, dragged to run behind them. She steals a glance at the door, the banging starts again. Alright, her other hand holds onto the sheathed sword on her hips. She would have loved to argue, but letting it go for now seems like the wiser decision to make.

—— BOOM!

Oh! Okay! They have broken the door already, catching up behind them. She snatches her hand away swiftly, drawing her sword out to deflect a few shots by the enemy. ❝ Go! I will follow you! ❞

@prcspcr cont from x

[stainedpast]

She doesn’t usually venture outside the daycare’s walls, rarely takes babysitting in private homes, but this one, this kid is different; they have SUFFERED, still do. A sigh; she knows the real answer to the question, but she can’t simply share it, not in front of the kid, no. ❝ Most times, it’s the person, not the clothes. ❞ Maybe they are one who radiates fatherly warmth, maybe just a man with a good heart. Most kids know, feel it, especially at this age when they have passed the strangers’ anxiety phase. ❝ Come here Lukas. ❞ Her voice is not harsh yet stern enough, GENTLENESS seeping through despite it. ❝ We talked about this, baby. No running off to strangers. ❞ She is already crouched to match their level, a soft hand cupping their little cheek, thumb caressing, her face is almost of an angel, but when she finally stands again, hints of concern, of ache and sadness force their way into her goddess like features. ❝ Sorry about that, mister. ❞ A little hand tugs at her own, she humors the boy and leans. ❛ Ask him about his name. That way he won’t be a stranger, right? ❜ One would think it mischief, but there is nothing but INNOCENCE in their request. She has never seen Lukas so adamant about a stranger, what about this one that seems to draw the kid so much? She forces her curiosity to silence. A defeated, apologetic smile is offered to them in hopes they would humor the boy. ❝ Well, you should first introduce yourself politely. ❞ As if her words are the only thing the boy follows, they offer their little hand, stating their name before asking about the other’s.

( @stainedpast ) LIKED FOR A SMALL STARTER ! ( Lihwa )

There's a boy latching onto the fabric of his pants - curious, but not unwelcome, as children oft find entertainment in the most spontaneous of acts. Still, he is compelled to look to his caretaker, giving her a sign that he is neither harmed nor one to pose it himself.

"An active one, is he?" He tells her. "I wonder what he finds so appealing here. Is it the plaid pattern?"

[stainedpast]

Her frame is hidden behind dark biker jeans and a black hooded jacket as she enters the bar, eyes discretely set on the man on the second stool. Her target is not a one to be stealthily robbed off the object she is after; they are skilled enough to interfere with her attempts should she make any. She chooses the more direct yet complicated route: demanding them to hand it over with little to no resistance.

❝ Hand over the matter and maybe I would help you escape. ❞ She does not lie, they are surrounded by highly skilled personnel seeking the same thing she is after, should they come in, they might both need to work hand in hand to escape with minimal damage, but for now, they shall both focus on their own battle against one another.

@darehearts | plotted starter

[stainedpast]

She has had this dream too many times for her to push at the back of her mind and ignore, to try and escape; afraid of the consequences that would bear on not only herself but the reality she might try to interfere with. Not that she has ever been successful before. They call it a gift? It is TORTURE: to know the darkest, most tragic futures and not be able to change them, to stop them.

Something tells her she needs to make the same mistake, again.

❛ just stay out of my way. ❜

Their previous warning says it: they must have been tired of her talking shit, or so most people would think, the truth of her gifts curse unbeknownst to them. She tries to warn them in a different approach to the usual, poking at the surroundings of the reality that is imminent: their brutal death.

It is when she learns of the masquerade ball they are attending that a little bit of luck smiles her way. She relies on a longtime friend to provide her with the necessary documents and information to get in there, she can always trust them. She knows fooling everyone there is but a kid’s game to her, everyone except Bruce Wayne, there is the highest chance they will blow off her cover, especially having met before, her ethereal beauty a one to remember.

There they are.

Her hand delicately holds a glass almost empty, taking another sip as if to finish it off. The corner of her field of vision catches their frame, but she acts as if her interest in on the design of the place, the music playing.

@bruz3r : ❛ just stay out of my way. ❜ | accepting

[stainedpast]

Maybe it is the lightness of the way she carries herself, the need to be stealthy that it has become more of a habit, a part of the way she now paces amongst crowds and empty spaces alike. She does not mean to startle them, the guilt of doing so apparent on her features. Her eyes dart to the ground immediately, not allowing herself any further glimpse of their suffering face, the skin evident of their battle against a sickness she wishes to take off them and onto herself for they are needed, she is not, never will be. ❝ Forgive me, my lord! ❞ She pleads for forgiveness, ducking her head, body crouching gracefully yet swiftly to capture the object of their desire, the mask in her hand a little cold now, a couple of wet spots from their escaping tears are ran against by her delicate fingers. It eats at her chest, but she says nothing in the regard; it is not her place to begin with. ❝ Here. ❞ Both hands are brought together to offer the mask politely, chin against chest as arms stretch to bring it closer to them. ❝ They will be arriving here shortly. ❞

exhaustion doesn't wane from him , but it is now mixed with this pain && anger at himself . it wasn't particularly king like for him to fall into sleep during a moment of discussion . there was DISAPPOINTMENT in his chest && he wondered if some of those in his court who doubted his rule , felt now they had more to support their claims . solanis felt his jaw tighten , but quickly relaxed it , as doing so felt like it would shatter what teeth he had left .

grateful for the ASSISTANCE , solanis walked silently with them back to his chambers . slowly , though . still feeling drained from all energy . once in his chambers , solanis watched as she left to fulfil his orders . opit && aspher would come shortly , he knew as much , so long as they were called for that was the main thing . she left , B peeling the golden mask from his face , a rush of cool air hitting the welts on his skin . he took a deep inhale , then felt a swelling of emotion in his chest , in his heart .

it didn't take him too much by surprise , but the way his eyes filled with tears , did . solanis tried his best , but before he knew it , water was POOLING down his cheeks . head lifted as she came back , solanis scrambled , reaching for his mask but knocking it down onto the stone ground below .

[stainedpast]

Had the situation been less urgent, she would have bursted into laughter at her own inconvenient choice of words, her face would have been buried wherever she could, painted bright red. Luckily -if it is appropriate to call it that at the current disadvantage she is in- she does not give it a mind, dismissing it to focus on more pressing issues.

Their next words lack humor, good, and they ring true. ❝ No! ❞ In return, she is honest, maybe blunt to some. ❝ You wouldn’t, but you know where it is, or at least how to get to it! ❞ She won’t be giving up that easily; the fate of a lot depends on this damn matter, but there is not much to do to prove their mistrust of her wrong; they have a point. ❝ I don’t need them to get you, yet here I am, talking. ❞ Not fighting, not trying to snatch and steal. The same can’t be said for the men barging in, weaponized and ready to attack the both of them indiscriminately. ❝ There we go. ❞ She would have preferred a better approach that did not include fighting, but she won’t back down now. She doesn’t waste time posturing into a defense mode, no, her defense is attacking, taking down one after the other, her attention still undivided on her main target.

𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐚 𝐦𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐉𝐢𝐦 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬𝐧’𝐭 burst into a loud  &  boisterous fit of laughter upon the lady’s commentary.   he cannot decide if she meant to play around with the word matter again,   or maybe it was just a coincidence.   regardless,   the expression ‘laughing matter’ prompts an involuntary hiss to escape him before he masks his laughter behind a quiet cough.

❝    then stop being funny.    ❞         Jim says before giving the woman an intense look.   the agent is often a   NATURAL   when it comes to reading others.   usually,   he should have formed a gut feeling about her intentions  &  alignment,   but being undecided causes Kirk a great deal of discomfort.   his situation is shady.   he may not have their object of discussion,   but he has more leads than anyone on the planet.   he chases more leads,    &  then others chase him as a lead                          it’s a vicious cycle he wishes he could get out of.          

❝    do you think i’d be here if i had it    ?  why would i sit inside a bar full of people who want to kill me    ?  besides,   how am i supposed to know you’re not with them    ?  maybe you’re their ‘subtle approach’ in case their original plan fails.   you come here,   earn my trust,   and help me ‘escape’.   then,   you have me bagged in the back of a white van before i know it.    ❞

[stainedpast]

Brows knit atop the bridge of her nose at their teasing comments, almost getting to her, but she keeps the rest of her features stoic enough not to grant them victory. Honestly, it is not a personal matter or else she would have brought a sword into this fight. A sigh escapes her lungs, gaze scanning the surroundings once again for an extra measure of preparedness.

❝ This is not a laughing matter. ❞ She knows they know, yet the words can’t be helped when let out. They are right on one thing though: she acts as if she has nothing to lose for in a way she has already lost all she cares about, a home she can never return to, a family behind, a self she has SACRIFICED long ago in the name of VENGEANCE. ❝ My life is for me to worry about. ❞ Stern is the way she lets those words past her lips, yet she is a gentle soul deep inside and will protect and even sacrifice for any soul, including theirs. ❝ I suggest you start acting as if you’re worried about yours. ❞ It might sound like a threat, but it is not, a mere advice, a warning for the danger around is imminent, especially with such an important object in their position.

𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧’𝐭 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐮𝐧𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 to crash this unofficial meeting.   it’s a medley of different organizations inhabiting the establishment.   one way or another,   everyone’s got word of a   LEAD   to be present at this time.   as skilled as the section 31 agent is when it comes to acting,   there’s no way he can truly relax his features as he sips on his drink so that he has something to do.   

azures wash over the dim area.   then,   a figure disrupts his view.   extremely bold    (    or extremely stupid    )    of someone to take a seat by him in this manner when the environment is charged with tension.           ❝    you need to be more specific than that.    ❞         no she doesn’t,   but he’s taken aback by how she dares to say the   NAME.

she must have nothing to lose.           ❝    blue matter     ?  pink matter     ?  what about amber matter     ?    ❞         he gently pushes his half a glass of whiskey an inch her way.           ❝    you’re gonna get yourself killed,   you know that    ?    ❞

[stainedpast]

Gaze deflects momentarily to follow their direction. Oh, a rifle, that would be more handy than what they are equipped with currently, but of course her SWORD is always going to be her favorite, a part of her that almost feels like an extension into an extra limb. She is dealing with the bastards before her companion joins her side to get her out of the way to put the new weapon into proper use. She nods in agreement before sheathing her sword back, feet quick to follow on their footsteps, she could be side by side to them but prefers to keep them a little farther to protect their back in case there is a need to do so. They have got the north, she has the south.

Then there is a sudden halt, light like a feather enough for them to almost miss it. She patiently yet alertedly waits for the enemies to get closer. More, a little more, almost!

Now!

The small blade in her hand is thrown into a highly pressurized object, enough to take care of most the enemy’s numbers, but not enough to mess up the ship further. Now, she can rejoin them in their advance north. ❝ Right behind you! ❞

running through the corridors , spock feels tense pressure rising through his body in preparation to fight . as the other pulled out their sword , spock turned on his feet to punch a few security numbers into the computer , eyes flashing across protocols that he had to bypass before finding the correct one . with a sharp clink , one of the panels slid open && revealed a phaser rifle , which was a little more POWERFUL than the standard phaser . underneath it though was the weapon that spock was most accustomed to , so he tucked it into his belt before grabbing the phaser && powering it up .

with a steady hand , he moved her to one side && lifted the weapon to his eye , firing a few times .

❝ that will not be necessary , ❞ he informed her . ❝ come along . ❞

[stainedpast]

Sad is the beat in her chest when their initial response hits; she should have chosen better wording. The gentle tap on her hand should be assuring, but it is not, only more saddening for she can barely distinguish between their GENTLENESS and WEAKNESS. Oh how she wishes she could give them her own health if possible. The world needs them, not her.

She is ready to hold them when they fail to stand, but allows them enough autonomy so they don’t feel helpless, hopeless. Again, she chooses the wrong words, wrong question this time; of course they are not okay. A sigh not audible to them escapes. ❝ Of course, my lord. ❞ As instructed, she aids them into standing, giving them the time they need before guiding them to their chambers. She is worried, but it is unwise to show it, so she keeps it hidden behind a neutral face. Once there, she makes sure they are in the most comfortable, possible posture before carrying on with the rest of their orders, calling for the healer and the kings guard, only returning to wait for further instructions and to be his company as they arrive.

❝ maybe they were not , but i am displeased with me , ❞ solanis murmured softly before shaking his head , tapping her hand gently with his own gloved palm . ❝ ignore that comment , ❞ he told her . he is then careful as he gathers his strength . standing is NOT easy right now , && solanis lets his shoulders heave before sitting down once again .

he lets the moment pass , inhaling gently , golden eyes falling sad as they were then asked if he was okay . no . he was tired , he wished to rest , wished to sleep . he ACHED . longed for absolution && resolution -- two things that would never come to pass . resting his elbow against the chair arm , solanis let his free hand guide across the mask he bore . feeling the warm metal against his blistering skin . ❝ i am ... well , ❞ he responded after a moment . ❝ i think , i will return to my chambers . if you will assist me , && then call for healer aspher && my kingsguard opit ? ❞