#theimpalpable ( 001 )

[wiltdd]

“ —— TY ! ”, the sound of her voice abruptly breaks the quiet of the early afternoon —— it’s an article on her phone that caught her interest now, beaming her up with the light of a eureka! moment, and as she calls out for him annie steps out to the front porch, a detective on tyler’s tracks. it speaks of SERENITY, the whole of it —— the light breeze blowing through the curtains of the open windows, the smell of lavender from the garden. but she misses adventure too, sometimes ( though it’s true — tyler makes up for a good ninety percent of her adventurous needs, now ), and as her thumb scrolls down a lovely depiction of a natural park somewhere in arizona, the thought that rings in her mind is a single one: i wanna go there — only with him. “ look at this —— ”, she finds him sitting on the porch and leans over him from behind, chin over his shoulder. “ isn’t it beautiful ? ” a murmur, as she hands him her phone. “ c’mon, we gotta go —— ” 

@theimpalpable​ gets an unprompted starter bc ... reasons .

[curlsncynefin]

closed starter for: @theimpalpable​. plot: Orion has been working under cover at the facility Lexine works for because he suspects that it's involved with supernatural creatures, furthering their notorious cause. And along the way discovers that she is a mender, thus tries to convince her of the foul play, and together they try to take down the organisation

The facility was more or less deserted at this hour. Perfect for snooping around without getting caught by the cameras or the people. However, one person was still working. The soft-spoken biochemist had been hard at work when Orion left his post to do what he was there to do.

“Oh, hey!” He greeted the woman with a smile. He’s hoped he’d slip past her unnoticed, but he’d run right into her. Perhaps a few minutes of chit chat ought to do the trick. He’d been trying to get past the door that he had no codes for. Maybe the pretty biochemist would be able to help him out of the fix. He didn’t think he was a ladies’ man, but he was a smooth talker. “If I didn’t know better I’d think you like pulling the night shifts. This is the fourth time I have seen you here this fortnight.”

[breathingliifc]

@theimpalpable​ from x

“WHAT IT IS SEEN BY the eye is much different than what words can express.” There is evident WORRY upon his features, one that cannot be erased due to the other’s status. It seems they’re STUBBORN enough to neglect his help, but there’s FATAL TWIST in this — he can be OBSTINATE, too.  

“You are HURT.” His hands have started to gain GLOW, a type of floating YELLOW with sparks of WHITE hovering over his fingers. There is nothing to FEAR, but he needs PERMISSION to utilize his POWER — otherwise, he cannot do much unless he uses FORCE. “Please, allow me to HELP you.”

       ❛ I don’t need you ❜ Adam says, it’s obvious the pain is seeping through his grinded teeth in hisses. Part of his left side has been deeply burnt from running into a building in fire. He had heard a kid crying, and though he was just there to cover up the story he could not stand and do nothing.                  Not when he lost it all that way. He didn’t think it twice, Sage didn’t come out to act against the journalist’s foolishness either. Yes, Adam wanted to die and Sage wanted to live, the vampire’s alter ego would make sure things stayed that way. But this time, the killer inside him didn’t even flinch when flames were around him.  Now, the only thing he wanted was for this man to go away in case Sage wanted out, then he’d be in trouble. Why was this human so stubborn?       Pained gaze looks up, catching up on the unusual glow.  ❛ How - How are you doing that? ❜     he must be hallucinating now...

[cverture]

    sarah sits beside his slumbering form, resting just on the edge of the mattress as her green eyes study the reticent visage she’s become familiar with over the span of time they’ve spent fleeing from similar foes. the expression he wears as he sleeps is unlike the ones she’s come to know from him. it’s still malachi, of course, yet his usual tough features appear softer than she’s used to. she can’t help but allow herself a degree of ease which comes paired with a swelling sensation of relief: at least he’s able to secure actual rest in spite of otherwise asphyxiating circumstances, that his body allows him to give weigh to the exhaustion just the same as her own does -- even despite defensive instinct against it.

   when his eyes force open a moment later, her hand moves instinctive, quickly, to relax against his forearm in an attempt steady his mind and body -- as if she can compete with the thoughts that are presumably waging war within. sarah is accustomed to similar battles. she holds her breath when meets his eyes, finding difficulty with ceasing her concerns for not only the outside world that awaits -- but the world that rests in here with them. in this instant she finds herself striving to quell the worry, if only to assure him that he’s safe, no matter how temporarily. 

   digits lift from their delicate clutch of his arm, hesitating with ambivalence before a stroke ghosts against stubbled flesh before his jaw rests within her palm. her thumb trails tender against his cheek, holding his gaze within her own. he’s just as human as she is, and while she’s previously been made aware, it doesn’t quite manifest until she feels the warmth of his skin against her own. in this cold reality they share, it’s a significant contrast to hold onto.

@theimpalpable​ | everything’s fine.

[hcze]

theimpalpable​:

  “SPAIN. IN ANDALUSIA, TO BE PRECISE.” He starts, not really having a problem when it comes to revealing origins of tattered book. Of course, he’s not about to disclose the reasons why he has it, or where in Andalusia he found it. The least he wants is to be denied help due to theories that most consider maddening. 

  “I don’t…know what other information you need, but…” A shrug leaves him, actually taking note of how careful the other is with the book. It seems, he really does seem to care for literature pieces — well, it showed when he almost fainted (an exaggeration brewing in Félix head) due to book’s horrible & feeble condition. Not Félix’s fault —- he unfortunately found it like that. It was actually way worse, wet and covered in mud. What a way to hide a book, right? 

   “Well…I know there aren’t many copies of this one. That’s why I’m here. It’s not a book you can find in popular bookshelves or just in any place. It…it also might hold vital information for certain topics, depending on beliefs and perspectives, that is.” A pause. “This…particular one is in this condition due to avarice, I believe.” He sighs. “It’s very old, too…mostly speaks about…Plato and other things happening during ancient years, but it holds very particular maps you can’t find anywhere else. Does any of that ring any bells?” 

Spain, Andalusia... It sounds like a place his parents would travel to, far away, exotic... Was it exotic? Theo didn’t know, he barely went out of New York less alone across big oceans. Focus Theo, we have a mystery ahead. He heard one of his friends say and a silent nod followed.    The man before him was talking quite disappointed at the state of the book and what seemed like a futile discovery mission. A hum escaped the young book-keeper’s lips. His eyes were glued to the very few pages left as he flipped them over and over, picked the book up and analyzed every inch of paper.  Theo would be lying if he said that all the information was adding up as substantial information for him to find about it. Look at that, what can you even get from that thing? Shakes said, Theo hushed him under his breath.

❛ It’s a shame honestly ❜ the book-seller finally muttered with a slight pull on the corner of his lips letting the book down on the counter.  ❛ I mean, we’re missing the cover so... Hard time to know the actual title. Missing the first pages, including the title page, to know whether this one is a first edition or one of the copies you mention sir and who wrote it...  Given the topics you mention and the maps that are hard to find, it definitely must be an antique book. ❜ His shoulders slumped a bit, lips pursed. ❛ But not all is lost, I know Mr. Ettiore has connections in the ABBA... The Antiquarian Bookseller’s Association of America... Long name. ❜ Theo chuckled ❛ Or the ILAB, I’ll spare you the other long name, maybe they may have a copy of your book in their possession... but would you have any problem with us contacting people outside from our venue? ❜      Look at you all grown up and professional, said Poe. Theo groaned under his breath.

[ruinswithin]

@THEIMPALPABLE​ from X

“WHAT IT IS SEEN BY the eye is much different than what words can express.” There is evident WORRY upon his features, one that cannot be erased due to the other’s status. It seems they’re STUBBORN enough to neglect his help, but there’s FATAL TWIST in this — he can be OBSTINATE, too.  

“You are HURT.” His hands have started to gain GLOW, a type of floating YELLOW with sparks of WHITE hovering over his fingers. There is nothing to FEAR, but he needs PERMISSION to utilize his POWER — otherwise, he cannot do much unless he uses FORCE. “Please, allow me to HELP you.”

      ❛ I don’t NEED you ❜ Adam says, it’s obvious the pain is seeping through his grinded teeth in hisses. Part of his left side has been deeply burnt from running into a building in fire. He had heard a kid crying, and though he was just there to cover up the story he could not stand and do nothing.                 NOT WHEN HE LOST IT ALL THAT WAY. He didn’t think it twice, Sage didn’t come out to act against the journalist’s foolishness either. Yes, Adam wanted to die and Sage wanted to live, the vampire’s alter ego would make sure things stayed that way. But this time, the killer inside him didn’t even flinch when flames were around him.  Now, the only thing he wanted was for this man to go away in case Sage wanted out, then he’d be in trouble. Why was this human so stubborn?     Pained gaze looks up, catching up on the unusual glow.  ❛ How - How are you doing that? ❜   he must be hallucinating now…

[ruinswithinarc]

theimpalpable·:

  “WELL, PERHAPS, NATURE-WISE, we may not have a choice in who we end up becoming; there are circumstances that cannot be controlled. However, we are given the choice to utilize our perspective as we wish. If I am bound to stay on Earth for the rest of my days, then I might as well do good.” It was true, he was born an angel, and now he was a fallen one. Literature often portrayed fallen angels as EVIL, or simply UPSET with the High Heavens for bringing them to soil. Lark certainly didn’t fit that mold.

  “I am not mad.” It was difficult to make him vexed; a small smile suddenly blossoming upon cherry lips. “There is no need to thank me, my friend.” A nod was given. “May I know…why were you engulfed in flames? It seems…you ran and ended up here, amid leaves and dirt.” A pause. “Do you have somewhere to go?” 

     ❛ I heard a kid crying in a building set on fire... ❜ he mused, remembering the cries in his head still. The kid was now safe but fire, it was a constant reminder of everything he had lost. It was enough to leave him contemplating memories of his past and lose him in thought.      ❛ I’ve got my place to go to, I just needed to get out of there before the secret was out. The least I need is people asking questions. ❜ After all it seemed he was doing good by saving a kid, figures.  ❛ Do you have somewhere to go? Or do you just roam around? You’re the very first angel I meet. ❜

[breathingliifearc]

DAXTEN   THEIMPALPABLE‌:

 HANDS REMAIN BURIED in his worn jacket, watching the other struggle with who-knows-what. Judging by the situation, she’s probably looking for that ADDRESS he vaguely asked for. He frowns when the piece of paper falls off her hat, out of all places. She’s…something else. Makes him feel like she’s the kind to be clumsy and oddly BRIGHT regardless of a lack of grace, and his theory makes him feel more UNEASY when she SMILES with the force of a thousand suns, because such thing guide his thoughts closer to the TRUTH.

  “Lemme see that,” he takes the decayed piece of paper in his calloused, bruised hand, tilting his head a little to make sense of what’s written amid wrinkles, “ya sure this is where ya wanna be?” Gaze lifts to address the other. His look seems JUDGMENTAL, but that’s because he tends to have harsh eyes in the beginning. “We’re in 23rd street, this is in 9th street.” He sighs, trying to find some orientation in his head. “Ya could get there on subway or train. There’s some stations nearby. Though, the subway’s gonna leave ya on 8th street, and then you gotta walk about 5 minutes to get where ya wanna be. Train’s gonna leave ya exactly on 9th street.” A pause. “…you know where those are, or do ya need help with that, too?”

   Hands behind her back she watches curiously, from his face to the piece of paper where her destination is. If she stops to think about it, a bracelet with the address engraved on the back of a little plaque would be best than the wrinkled thing within his rough hands. Mo makes a mental note to tell his friend about her idea, meanwhile her attention goes back to the man who is talking to her.

  ❛ Yes, yes please. That’s the street. ❜ an enthusiastic nod takes control of her head this time, still smiling from ear to ear. Mo does her best to continue the directions given, she has some sort of understanding in what he is telling her but somehow she feels uneasy to go on her own, especially with the grumbling that just started in her belly. Wouldn’t want to run into a sleeping man or woman and suckle on their good dreams… There is no other choice in her mind.    ❛ I kind of know, but I think I need help. I don’t want to get lost again, would you help me? ❜ She asks with a pout.

[curlsncynefin]

closed starter for ➤ @theimpalpable. plot ➤ Years after the failed rescue, Amelia is now an underground fighter — hiding from ReGen — when she gets into trouble with a gang. She defeated one of their fighters, and they lost quite a lot of money. So, they ambush her outside. Helps come in the shape of a masked vigilante. 

For how long can a person live an aimless life? Living comfortably off of your inheritance, trying to find meaning at the bottom of the bottle. It was that kind of life that the woman hated. She felt like a ghost residing in someone else’s body, living someone else’s life. Her other option, though, was to give up her miserable existence, and Amelia wasn’t ready for that quite yet.

She hoped that one day she’d be able to go back to her old life, accomplish something, further her dreams, pursue her ambitions, and make her deceased family proud. Clinging to that hope, she trudged through this dreary existence. When it got too much, she tended to venture out to the bowels of the city, mind numbed on scotch, seeking some way to feel again. Even if it was pain.

And there was no dearth of pain in the underground fight clubs. 

Usually, after two or three fights, she has made enough money to go home with a good bottle of scotch, and not have to worry about the next week’s expenses such as food or clothing. Sometimes, her only gain was the pain that made the coming week a little difficult to manage, but gave solace to her soul that she wasn’t dead yet.

However, sometimes, things don’t go as planned.

This was one such night where Amelia had made an unknown error in defeating a fighter with ties to one of the more intolerant gangs. Apparently, they lost quite a lot of money that night, and the fighter lost their credibility in the fighting circles. None of that the ex-lawyer was aware of, as she walked down the abandoned alley behind the entrance to the basement where she had fought.

The air shifted, a small shuffle carried on the later summer wind reached the brunette’s ears. She stopped in her tracks. Bruised knuckles curled to fists inside the pockets of her leather jacket, as she waited. Four figures emerged from the shadows. “I’m not looking for a fight,” she announced in a low voice, her stance disagreeing with her words.

“Then you should’ve been more careful,” was the only warning she received before the four men pounced on her. And the fight began.

[chingonaclawsarchive]

     incorrect but absolutely correct quotes 001.  valentine’s day. ( feat. @theimpalpable​ / samuel. )

Sam: “Hey Laura, do you have a date for Valentine’s Day?”  Laura: “Of course I do. It’s Feb. 14th... Everyone knows that. Even I know that.”  Sam: “I--Right...Nevermind.”

[bastienprice-a]

     rules: bold the aesthetics that apply to your muse!

     001.    the  fairy.

chipped nail polish.   glitter highlight.   tall trees with smooth bark.   tangled hair.   the taste of cinnamon sugar.   talking too loud and too fast.   overgrown flowers in your hair.   crumbling buildings reclaimed by nature.   flirting.   walking home at three am with no coat.   platonic hand-holding.   blowing smoke out of your nose.   dragonfly wings.   chaotic good.   freckles.   fairy rings.   secret meetings.   gender nonconformity.   leather.   smudged eyeliner.   forbidden fruit.

     002.    the  reaper.

computer errors.   a shiver down your spine.   haunting beauty.   hard liquor.   crowns of thorns.   shadowed alleyways.   decaying plant matter.   shattered mirrors and broken glass.   corrupted memories.   stopped clocks.   the scent of stale cigarettes.   tattered black hoodies.   walking your friend(s) home.   the crescent moon.   the sea.   a graveyard on a foggy day.    cold rings on cold fingers.   absolution.   looking out of the window of an aeroplane.

     003.    the  witch.

graffiti.   pretending to know what you’re doing.   worn paperback books.   growing up too fast.   parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme.   lace and combat boots.   moth wings.   candles on every surface.   a weathered deck of cards.   turning the music up.   fireflies in jars.   calloused fingers.   drawing on your skin.   sunlight filtering through clouds.   petrichor.   a dying rose in a jar.   wearing a crystal pendant.   illusions of spells.   black cats.   mint gum.   chapped lips.   dirt under your fingernails.   the cycle of life and death.

     004.    the  wolf.

murders of crows.   frostbitten leaves.   wolves howling at midnight.   knocking on your door.   leaving food out for stray animals.   the twang of an acoustic guitar.   honey.   tiny red buds on trees.   claw marks on the walls.   golden eyes.   slightly too long stubble.   knitted fingerless gloves.   sleeping on the forest floor.   always finding your way back home.

tagged by: @nobilitylost tagging: @hvnbrn @onlywarmer @babyunwin @hrodohaide @selfishisuppose @gracemxrked @theimpalpable @mtchstck @pepperpxtts @tiltedhalos

[eleanormatilda]

     sam & len 001.  @theimpalpable.   xoxo

[hcze]

theimpalpable​:

[ sms ] — I believe you are. Thanks to you, I keep eating more sweets. Especially when you send me American chocolates. I have to admit those are very good. Which brand are they again? [ sms ] — Perfect! I’ll start writing the script right now.  [ sms ] — Oh, Drew! I wasn’t even there! I don’t know if you snored or not, but, based on your visits here, and my visits there…I don’t think you snore, my friend. Oh, please. She probably thought she was seeing the most adorable thing, and you’re worrying over nothing.  [ sms ] — Besides, drool or not, you compensate it with your good looks AND wonderful personality. See? No worries.  [ sms ] — Why are you so worried about that, anyway? You said you were just friends…

[ sms - Dom ]: Oh, excuse me but that’s good influence. What’s life without a little sweet huh? But brand... The Mars one? But also, the Snickers, have you seen the ads? I give Larry one every time he’s exceptionally grumpy. [ sms - Dom ]: HAHA! Can’t wait to read it. Please describe me a little less dorky than I am. [ sms - Dom ]: The most adorable thing? Oh no, there’s no way back from there. I’m adorable. being adorable is not good is it? I mean... [ sms - Dom ]: ... You’re right, no problem. Nothing to worry about, we’re friends. Friends share embarrassing moments... 😭

[hcze]

theimpalpable​:

[ sms ] — No, not really accepted…but more so, I know it’s something I can’t change, so why do I argue with you about it, eh? You seem more of a night owl than I am. Thinking about it, I reckon I’m only 2% night owl, while you are about 110%.  [ sms ] — I admit it’s a very unique and memorable way to meet, yes. May Tom and I be the creative directors for your upcoming film? [ sms ] — Just friends, eh? We all start somewhere, don’t we? Regardless of future outcomes, she does sound like a nice gal. I’m certain she thinks the same about you, too. You’re a very good man, Drew. Got a beautiful smile as well, let’s not fool ourselves when we know this truth.  [ sms ] — So, this means you two still talk to each other, yes? She wasn’t disenchanted by you sleeping on her couch? 

[ sms - Dom ]: Sounds fair. I’m beginning to think I might be a bad influence for you. MHM [ sms - Dom ]:  HA! Please be, though knowing Tom he’d want to be the main lead hahaha, you get the whole creative director spot just for you. [ sms - Dom ]: Oh stop it! You’ll make me blush.... wait wait wait, you make it sound like I somehow snored or something...   [ sms - Dom ]: wait, do I? I don’t  think.. What if I drooled? OH NO. She’s too kind to even tell me something about it like... OH NO

[hcze]

theimpalpable​:

  “WAIT…YOU LIVE THERE but you don’t know how to get there? You recently moved or somethin’?” A bit of SUSPICION gets a hold of him, sort of CONFUSED by her sudden confession. Such a thing could only make SENSE if she’s new to the surroundings, otherwise, it’d be a STRANGE thing, for her to FORGET the path toward her home. Still, he keeps on accompanying her; hands in his pockets, eyes moving to settle on the live picture before them. 

  “You’re sayin’ this as if I’m literally getting all the way to your front door.” He prefers COFFEE over tea, but he feels that sharing his opinion about this will only give her a reason to make her INVITATION happen. “As long as ya get where ya wanna go, then it’s fine by me. No need to, uh, make me anything.” 

      ❛ SOMETHING LIKE THAT... I haven’t been to these part of the city before, I easily get lost. ❜ she nods, agreeing with herself as she skips in her step once in a while.  Hands behind her back she peers up at him with inquisitive eyes. The man seems to hold some sort of shield around him, the furrowed brows, the hands in his pockets, the hurried manner in which he paces as if trying to get there the soonest as possible. Mo wondered if his dreams were HARD to cope with, there were some signs in his aura. 

     ❛ Oh! Are you not? ❜ brief pout, her stare deviates to the front. ❛ How can I thank you then? ❜ the dream-eater murmurs more to herself than the other, pondering a way - if not a hot beverage - in which she can manifest her thankfulness. ❛ Have you had nightmares lately? ❜

[hcze]

@theimpalpable​ from here

[ sms - Dom ]: I don’t mind my friend, I know that time is kind of against us too. You need to rest... Does this mean you have accepted my habit of staying up late and not sleep huh? [ sms - Dom ]: YES! I forgot my keys and she kindly let me in, but before I went up her stairs to mine I had to take a nap... [ sms - Dom ]: ... It’s not a bad idea... It sounds like a meet cute right? Tom said it was one... But we’re just friends. She’s nice, really nice. And she’s got this beautiful smile...