#pre movie verse tbt

[lightcreators]

Whatever  complain  he  would  have  owned  concerning  whiteness  of  an  ship  around  clocks  had  truly  disappeared  once  he  faced  himself  inside  somewhere  an  similar  landscape  …  but  within  another  atmosphere.  As  much  emotionally  detached  gaze  he  often  had  been  welcomed  with,  when  closeness  had  been  hesitant,  didn't  preparing  him  for  current  circumstances.  He  never  been  told  within  the  exact  word  what  kind  of  being  that  higher  observed  was,  neither  reason  push  the  admiration  of  landscape  from  his  other  self  …  there  was  so  harm  within  the  question  he  asked,  simple  curiosity  of  his  part  on  her  perspective.  He  knew  her  …  without knowing  her,  as  possible  understandable  it  was.  At  first  glance,  she  wasn’t  someone  he  would  even  considering  messed  up  with.  It  had  been  something  he  somewhere  understood  by  another  representation  of  her  value,  another  form  she  could  have,  but  it  had  truly  within  these  seconds  he  understood  threatening  intent  she always have possessed … 

As  he  was  called  ‘child  of  man’,  there  was  immediate  understanding  there  was  no  need  to  pride  himself  concerning  his  name  ---  or  even meaning  within  the  big  Web  of  Time  in  which  he  was  one  explicitly  toy  among  it.  Though,  he  wasn’t  prepared  for  how  she  answered  her  question.  He  understood  the  meaning.  There  was  no  particular  need  to  humiliating  himself  over  how  he  was  representing  nothing  when  it  had  been  presented  with  such  a  question.  All  things  considered, he  will  less  complain  over  the  MIB  presence  for  now.  It  was  best  he  was  dealing  with  them  as  main  problem  with  himself  ---  ❝  If  you  return  my  question  like  that,  it  mean  we  are  similar  to  these  ants,  interesting  to  be  watched.  ❞  For  once,  he  would  be  internally  happy  he  met  literally  Norse  Gods  before.  ❝  Some  people  could  think  of  you  as  an twisted  Loki  if  they  weren’t  aware  you  are  more  threatening  than  couple  of  malice  tricks.  I  do  apology  if  my  introduction  sounded  offensive. I didn't mean to offense. ❞

@lightcreators asked: " Everything someone can live is just an story for you?" (Philip Coulson @ Featherine. Science.)

Although the great witch wore a smile, it lacked the warmth when gazing at the unknown visitor. This wasn't the first time someone would question Featherine on how she perceives the world. In her eyes, she views the world through a lens as if everything is fiction, nothing but stories for her to consume.

A chuckle escaped her lips, responding to the other's question with her own question, " Tell me Child of Man, do you fret over ants as you go about your day-to-day life? "

[tabletglows]

@mcnsieur​ liked this!

French. The language around him was, decidedly, hushed French. Ahkmenrah listened closely, recalling the months he’d spent learning that language at Cambridge with visiting Egyptology professors. The dust inside his Sarcophagus was beginning to choke him again, but he tamped down on his panic and waited for the voices to recede. It sounded like they were going to bed, if he’d heard right. Except one of them had joked about possibly doing something else besides sleeping. Fine. Ahkmenrah had always viewed sex in a rather positive light, as all Egyptians typically did. 

Only after things had been quiet for a while did Ahkmenrah try pressing against the lid of his Sarcophagus. Oh, bollucks... Was it locked? Surely the servants who moved him hadn’t actually thought to secure the lid... Nobody ever paid that close attention... 

Ahk swallowed thickly and kept his eyes shut, breathing as evenly as he could to keep the panic down. He wasn’t trapped. He was okay. He could do this... He tried feeling along the edge of his ornate casket, at the little gap which appeared after he’d pushed. All right... So he wasn’t locked in...

[shcllshocked]

      “ you seen that, too? “ asked the cajun to the hunter, rifle at the ready, but aimed at nothing in particular. through an odd series of circumstances, goodnight had chased an outlaw right into the bayou, and had been trudging through the swamps for days with no sign of his target.  the whole time he felt uneasy. like he was being watched. even when he’d found--or rather, was found by--a man claiming to be a simple hunter, the feeling continued, especially now, as the sun was beginning to set and casting dark shadows among the trees. highlighted only by the blood red sunset.       but what he had seen was no shadow.       no...what he had seen...it looked human...but it didn’t feel human. he’d grown up with stories of the area--horrifying tales used to keep he and other children out of the swamps at night. as he’d grown older, he’d chalked it up to just that--daddy trying to scare him into being smart. now, however...he wasn’t sure.       “ tell me you seen that, too. “

@valianthunts s.c.

[tabletglows]

Ahk, who doesn’t yet speak English, desperately miming to the Egyptologists at Cambridge that he wants water.