tarnishedhalo

[tarnishedhalo]

Ron eyed the shimmering heat coming off the roof terrace with a mixture of disdain and longing. "...'I's an 'undred degrees aht there man" he mustered. "M'gonna fuckin' die."

Black basketball shorts wither down around the knees, but haven't entirely given up the ghost on Riley's legs yet, the one metal and the one flesh. Shoulders strain as muscles ripple across his upper back, biceps flare making the ink on his arms and the Hawaiian islands swim against the sweat building up as he counts off the last... "99." ...push-ups in a grunt. "100." And just then, as if he's only gotten up to fetch another cup of coffee, Riley's up and on his feet, using the shirt he'd ditched ten minutes ago as a towel. Across from him, in the shaded sitting area he'd built himself years ago, Ron isn't so much wilting as he is grumbling, and that drags up a dark chuckle from deep in Riley's chest. "Yeah, okay, I'll give ya that, Rawnie, but you're kinda blessed here. You can't smell the landfill that is Staten Island, and you're not in the city where...well. You know what parts of the East End can be. Rank human sweat, a thousand years of piss on the walls, the trash, the bird and rat shit, the fumes from cars, busses, and I mean I could go on but that's just gonna kill my appetite." He slings himself down into one of the chairs opposite his friend, and smiles. "Speaking of which, didn't know if you'd want tea or coffee, so there's both with the juice and everything's as light as I could make it." From the bread to the frittata ~all vegetarian in case his sister was hungry when she finally surfaced~ to the perfectly balled melon and citrus bowls. "Seein' as August in New York's not your bag, what kind of indoor things you wanna do today? And don't worry, Sally's AC is workin' just fine."

[tarnishedhalo]

[ YANK ]:     seeing the receiver is in immediate danger, the sender hastily grabs them and pulls them against them, out of harm’s way. (Matt, not daredevil but Matt)

It takes every ounce of willpower in Riley's considerable frame ~all six feet, three inches and two hundred twenty pounds of it~ not to turn and lay out the guy grabbing him by the shoulder, the Versace fabric at the small of his back just above the scar tissue, and yanking him back from the curb. Dragging him down behind the car just as the report of gunfire shatters the air outside of the courthouse. His hand slips into his jacket, pulls his side-arm from its shoulder holster and Riley all but ping-pongs his way back up except for... "Murdock?" He doesn't know Murdock as well as either of his sisters, but he knows enough that despite being a defense lawyer, the one wrapped up in the whole Castle affair, he's a good egg. He's also very much sight-impaired thanks to that raw fucking deal he'd received as a kid. Rumours go 'round, don't they? Riley's other hand is a lot more gentle than it would have been otherwise as he pats the guy's shoulder. "Thanks, man," he murmurs first a genuine appreciation for the man's reflexes ~he'll worry about the how and the why, later~ and shifts on his feet, still crouched. There's a dull clang of metal when his knee collides with the car door and it's a lucky thing there's no left-over dent. "Stay low behind me." Some would call it a cop's instincts but Riley is now back in PJ mode as he rises up just enough to get a better view. Cops and bailiffs everywhere. People running for the shelter of the building's interior...but he's looking for an obvious glint. "Pretty smooth there. How'd you know?"

[tarnishedhalo]

the  intimacy  of  hands.

[ win ]  –  for the sender’s muse to place a hand on the receiver’s neck and rest their forehead against the receiver’s own for a close congrats or excitement at something. [ brush ]  –  for the sender’s muse to give the receiver’s muse a passing touch along the shoulder’s / back as they walk by. [ hold ]  –  for the sender’s muse to hold the receiver’s muse by the face / neck gently and brush their thumbs along their cheeks to get them to focus on them. [ passing confidence ]  –  for the sender’s muse brush their finger’s against the receiver’s muse’s hand, too scared to hold their hand. [ intertwine ]  –  for the sender’s muse to intertwine their finger’s the receiver’s muse and kiss the back of their hand. [ intertwine & kiss ]  –  for the sender’s muse to intertwine their finger’s the receiver’s muse and kiss the back of their hand. [ intertwine & hold ]  –  for the sender’s muse to intertwine their finger’s the receiver’s muse and hold them during an emotional moment to reassure them. [ wrap ]  –  for the sender’s muse to casually wrap their arms around the receiver’s neck and lean on their shoulder from behind. [ palm kiss ]  –  for the sender’s muse to kiss the palm of receiver’s hand. [ hand kiss ]  –  for the sender’s muse to kiss the back of the receiver’s hand. [ lay ]  –  for the sender’s muse to lay next to the receiver and lay their hand in the receiver muses’ hand. [ reassure ]  –  for the sender’s muse to place their hand over the receiver’s in a moment of stress and squeeze reassuringly. [ squeeze ]  –  for the sender’s muse to place their hands on the receiver’s shoulders from behind, and offer a reassuring / affirming squeeze before moving on. [ pluck ]  –  for the sender to pluck a foreign object ( twig / leaf / etc. ) out of the receiver muses’ hair. [ play ]  –  for the sender’s muse to run their hand up the receiver’s shoulder and play with the hair at the base of their neck as a means of comfort. [ rub ]  –  for the sender muse to rub up and down the receiver’s back / shoulder as a means of comfort. [ shoulder ]  –  for the sender’s muse to place a hand on the receiver’s shoulder to comfort them, or stop them. [ hug ]  –  for the sender’s muse to drag the receiver’s muse into a tight hug by the back of the neck, and play with their hair at the base of their neck in order to comfort them. [ shock ]  –  for the sender to recoil a bit in shock at how quick the receiver latches onto them in a moment of high emotion, before returning the affections. [ cup ]  –  for the sender’s muse to cup the receiver’s face, and brush their thumb along the receiver’s cheek. [ hair ]  –  for the sender to brush a strand of hair out of the receiver’s face. [ hair & lean ]  –  for the sender to brush a strand of hair out of the face, and lean in slowly for a kiss. [ cup & kiss ]  –  for the sender’s muse to cup the receiver muses’ face during an incredibly passionate and long overdue kiss. [ what a rush ]  –  for the long long overdue kiss to end, only for the sender to rest their head on the receiver’s, and comment “do you know how long I’ve wanted to do that?” [ no tears ]  –  for the sender to cup the receiver’s face and brush away their tears with their thumbs. [ no tears & kiss ]  –  for the sender to cup the receiver’s face and brush away their tears with their thumbs & kiss the receiver’s forehead. [ stumble ]  –  for the sender’s muse to catch and help the receiver’s muse keep balance. [ shudder ]  –  for the sender to shudder a little at some gentle touch from the receiver. [ nononono! ]  –  for the sender to hold the receiver’s head / face while they’re injured, brush their thumb along their cheeks & refuse to accept that the receiver is dying. [ acceptance ]  –  for the sender & receiver to sit / lay somewhere in acceptance of their ends together. in a final act of closeness, the sender places their hand in the receiver’s own.

[ prompt ] + reverse  –  to reverse any of the prompts !

[tarnishedhalo]

Tis The Season - Day 5 @tarnishedhalo

Much as his mate larked about being some sort'a billionaire, playboy, philanthropist type, Ron had come to learn over the years ensuing that he wasn't joking about the job-lot of that description. Sod the bank account mention, it was the philanthropy that moved him and that'd bought Ron a long-running respect and well of empathy for the man. He himself, while vastly less wealthy, had made it his entire business round the East End making sure the vulnerable were looked after, the cold warmed and the hungry fed. Riley's work doing similar got right into Ron's marrowbones. It spoke to that nature in him and so it was no shock to any fucker, come a late in the day drop out of a coach at one of the free boxing clinics Riley'd organised through the festive period to give local kids something productive to do with their energy, that Ron leaped at the chance to get involved.

Four full days out his work calendar Ron cleared for his volunteering stint. His staff, gleeful at the extra pay and extra hands on deck, particularly shooed him out the door and so, bright and early - long before the clinic opened for the day - Ron rocked up at the gym where it was held in his training togs ready to get to work. Weren't nothing about it he'd not turn his hand to. The sweeping got done, the mats were checked and put out, and the loose curriculum he and the other trainers were to keep to was given a thorough once over before classes started at 8am sharp.

It was fuckin' bedlam, but a controlled and productive kind.

Ron and two others - three trainers being the minimum needed to keep track of the kids attending and make sure everyone was safe as 'ahses while they played silly buggers - warmed 'em all up then split off in groups: one at the standing bags to work on conditioning, one on the mats for grappling practice and the other working on technique in the boxing ring. It was a helluva laugh, topped off by the arrival of The Boss himself come lunchtime.

The self-restraint it took Ron not to bellow Oi Oi Saveloy! at the sight'a Riley was stratos-fuckin'-pheric, but he managed to catch all the ebullience he felt behind his teeth. His fellow trainers had gone all gooey over their benefactor's visit, and while Ron wasn't about that life at all he didn't want to cause a riot by seeming to disrespect the man. Riley copped a snaggle-toothed grin off him instead as he was shown round by the self-appointed Head Lad of the day; that and, when said Lad weren't lookin', a snigger-worthy I've got an eye on you gesture; two fingers flicking between black eyes and hazel eyes during a brief let up in in-ring work. The kids loved that. One relatively tiny lad even copied him at one of his classmates, and that...

That made Ron a bit gooey, must confess.

Much'a the rest of the day was a blur of classes, kids and martialling Mr Head Lad's new ego at having managed to collar Mr Riley for a chat before he'd dipped out to go about the rest of his day. Ron didn't have the heart to tell 'im he'd known this most High Top Personage easily over half a decade now and counted him amongst his nearest and dearest. He just nodding-dogged it, listening but not hearing as the place emptied, the ego left and let him clean off the mats, sweep the floors, and tidy up ready for tomorrow's classes; all to the crooning tones of Bublé on the radio.

It's beginning to look a lot, like, Christmas...

[tarnishedhalo]

Corinne’s brow furrowed as she glanced up from running her thumb across the paper to make a crease. “Did you hear something?” She asked Beth.

It may have been the pure look of innocence on her friend’s face or another sound coming from the other room that prompted her next question.

“Do I need to go distract your brother from the fact that he may have stepped on a purposely laid pile of our ornaments?”

Beth’s Cheshire Cat grin only increased as she picked up a plate of cookies. “Here, take dis, or mo’ bettah can try open one mo' button.” She offered the cookies while with her other hand gestured at Corinne’s shirt.

When she found him holding three flattened paper ornaments while staring at the rest on the floor lined up in such a manner it practically ensured he couldn’t have avoided them, the look on his face made her choose a third option. She crossed the room quickly, leaning up to brush a kiss across his lips while taking the sacrificial origami pieces from his hands. “Welcome home, how was your day?” She murmured.

“I see my sister is up to her usual mischief.” He murmured back.

“Yeah, but you know how she is when they don’t turn out just right.” She replied with a soft laugh.

“You know she doesn’t care, just wants an excuse to torment me.”

“I can hear you!” Both laughed as Beth’s voice carried in from the kitchen.

“Looks like you have enough to cover a forest of trees at this point.” Riley remarked as he eyed the boxes full of what seemed like every type of origami Christmas ornament.

“And the kids are going to have a great time decorating trees while nothing will get broken in the process.” Corinne replied as she pulled him towards the kitchen. “It was a great idea Beth had for the holiday party at the children’s hospital.”

“Yes, it was.” He admitted. “My sister’s pretty smart, just don’t tell her I said it.” He leaned in close to quietly murmur the confession in her ear.

Corinne gave him an affectionate smile just as they got to the kitchen. She was touched they’d incorporated her annual tradition of delivering holiday cookies in with their many philanthropic endeavors. Though she’d started it to take her mind off being without her family during the holidays, it had become something much more meaningful to her.

“So, can I help?” He asked. “Seems you lost a few in a tragic accident when I got home.”

“No, your hands too big, you gon' smash ‘em.” Beth immediately replied before Corinne could open her mouth.

After a few more barbs volleyed back and forth between the siblings, it was agreed more or less that Riley would cook dinner while Beth and Corinne folded the last of the miniature trees.

Corinne may have shown him how to fold one of the stars later after Beth had gone to bed.

When it was time for the party, a much more casual affair than some of the charitable events they were involved in, Riley was spotted more than a few times, lifting the smaller children to hang their ornaments on the higher branches. Corinne might have on the desk in her office a few framed photos of her favorite sibling pair from the event.

@brooklynislandgirl & @tarnishedhalo

[tarnishedhalo]

On a frozen lake in another crossed stream place elf season continues…..

“What’s with the weird centerpiece in the middle of your table, Drewski?”

Riley glanced up from whatever he’d been looking at on his phone which Brian assumed was some sort of news feed. He shook his head. “No idea McG. You’d have to ask my sister.” He replied before going back to whatever had his attention prior to the interruption.

Brian took a sip of his coffee. “Don’t you want to know why there’s a random black bird standing on a ribbon?”

“Nope.” He didn’t even look up.

“Think it’s some kind of twelve days of Christmas thing?”

Riley set his phone down, picked up his coffee and looked at Brian with a mostly unreadable expression though definitely containing its usual degree of general annoyance (Feigned or real it was never clear). He took a sip, then let out a long sigh. “It’s not a partridge McG and all the other birds come in groups.”

“It’s Crow on a Bow you dummies” Beth’s melodic voice suddenly chimed in as she appeared in the kitchen. “You know, instead of da Elf on a Shelf.” She explained as if it was clear as day, pouring herself a cup of coffee.

Which now that she said it, was pretty darn obvious. Both Gamble and Riley suddenly lifting cups for another sip.

After that though, it was game on.

“Is that a pelican?” Brian asked Beth a few days later.

“Oh, it not me dis time.” She said shaking her head as got plates out while Riley cooked breakfast.

“McG It’s supposed to rhyme.” Riley rolled his eyes. “Don’t know your birds I see.” He tutted as he slid a spatula under one of the pancakes and flipped it in the pan.

“Ooh, crane on a plane!” Beth pointed excitedly.

“Show off.” Brian muttered looking pointedly at Riley and the pancake.

Beth’s face immediately changed into a delighted grin when she realized Brian’s comment had not been directed at her.

The next night Beth greeted them both at the door as they returned from their shift. She was literally bouncing and giggling. “It’s not Halloween.” She said pointing to the tree where a skeleton lay on the tree skirt, a large stuffed animal perched on top.

“Pelican on a skeleton, you’re catching on McG.” Riley chuckled, if not perhaps a little grudgingly.

Riley had come back with a partridge sitting in pear tree atop an ink cartridge.

Brian had retorted with a pheasant sitting on an elaborately wrapped present.

The hands down winner of course was Beth’s contribution on Christmas Eve. In the middle of the coffee table lay a shark, jaws open and standing behind the fin was a small bird with brown and white feathers in colorful pattern.

It took a few moments before…

“Lark on a shark.” Both men mumbled in unison.

@therealgamble @tarnishedhalo @brooklynislandgirl

inspired by this (x)

//With love to mun's favorite OTP 😘 💕

[tarnishedhalo]

"If you don’t like it, leave." [Mr K post beatdown of a guy selling the hot new street drug - Glitter AKA actual fairy dust]

He takes his time to ensure the gun is in proper working order and anyone looking on could imagine that he hadn't even heard the equally tall, equally muscular man in the white suit snarl at him. Neither does he seem to be interested in the victim sprawled bleeding on the floor. Only after several seconds go by and he replaces the weapon into his holster, inadvertently flashing his badge, does he bother to address the vigilante. "You know, all of you ~with the masks, the tights, the whole costumed hero thing~ are a titanic pain in my ass. Make it so hard to try and do this the right way. But I'm sure you had a reason for it, and because of the particular nature of the situation, I'm gonna let it slide this time." Deep voice, melodic. The kind of voice that rightfully belongs in a leather chair, sipping aged whiskey while listening to old blues. "Now, my buddy, my guy ~let me guess, you've got one of those kinds of names like the Silver Spector, or since we're going with the whole moon motif here something like Dr Lunar or whatever~ did you get any useful information out of Chucky here before you went full blender on him?"

[tarnishedhalo]

[tarnishedhalo]

@goodlawman {xx}

"Well, damn. Least that means we can use something a little better than what the Service would consider 'reasonable force'." Riley's long-legged stride doesn't take but a minute to vacate himself from the circle. Stopping just short of his partner's six, he raises a hand and weaves an invisible pattern in the air with two fingers all the while muttering under his breath, and old and French-tinged variation of Latin. "Think yer gonna wanna keep that. Are they enchanted?" He asks, regarding the bullets within the guns. He thrusts his arm into empty space; it disappears from fingers and most the way up to his shoulder in a way that ought never be seen by the human eye. That isn't his concern considering how he'd appeared here. When he drags his arm back, it doesn't reappear by itself. In his grasp is a leather sheath, and in that? What appears to be an actual almost four foot long blade. The hilt is wrapped in black leather, the design simple but the pommel speaks more eloquently than Riley ever has; round and bearing within it a white enameled shield with a red, archaic cross. He's quick to buckle the sheath to his belt and draws the belt. Bowing his head, he offers up a silent prayer and ends it with the sign of the Cross. "Pretty damn smart." Riley doesn't look like what a Templar should. But given that the order should have gone extinct long ago, relegated to a tragic myth from middle Christendom, who was really able to judge. He too paled at the sounds that came echoing out from the shadowed wood and in response his jaw tightens and he nods towards the nearest copse of trees. "...But at least it isn't fuckin' weres. I kind of hate the lot of them. And for what it's worth? Hope it ain't any of your friends in there." Switching his grasp on the sword, Riley sighs and chucks his chin forward. "After you, Partner."

[tarnishedhalo]

@learnedlucidity {{xx}}

Riley leans into her doorframe as she considers his request and less than cheerful demeanour but mostly because if he doesn't he's likely not going to remain on his feet for much longer. He's not so hurt as he might appear though there is fresh human blood pouring in trickles from places it ought not be, but more than anything, Riley's exhausted and running on fumes. He winces when she calls him by his government name. Or maybe it's the threat of his sister looming over him. "You know I'm stubborn as a mule an' even Beth can't scare me long. And maybe if you didn't sometimes take the very same risks, I'd give extra merit to your argument." He might have murmured something like 'oh thank God' under his breath as he pushes himself off the doorframe to lurch into her home. He doesn't resist when she takes the bag though he does feel a little sorry that it's so heavy. "Oh yeah? Whatcha go in mind? I'm sure we can work something out." There's money. Favours, goods, contacts, and most important in their line of work? There's information. He slings himself down onto her couch, legs dangling off the end and sort of simply sinks into the comfort there, momentarily closing his eyes. "I know, babe," he says, admitting it for maybe the first time. "Didn't want to put you in more danger than I had to."

[tarnishedhalo]

Between the faint hint of her perfume, the mixed scents of baking spices, and something uniquely her own, Riley is loathe to pull back from nuzzling her neck but as a gentleman, he gets that he has to. That she isn’t so keen for it, either, pleases him in an immeasurable way. “I’ll have to make sure I do it more often, then.” He could and maybe might have said the same about her as she does the food but that’s a step too far considering she’s at work and there are ears everywhere. “I find that carbs-to-protein ration really perks up the afternoon, right?” Then it’s his turn to consider the best option. The truth of his day-in-day-out is the ugliness of humanity. Pain and suffering both of the victim and the perpetrator, and some times none of it makes any sense. He could log into the resources and reports site and show her the statistics but that only paints half the picture. He doesn’t do it, doesn’t want to, because he wants to protect her as much as he can in face of the worst, and spare her any worry she might feel for of him.

“Yeah, you know. Had to investigate a box of donuts we suspect were the target of unnamed suspects on graveyard shift. Turns out, they don’t hold a candle to anything you make here, so I might stop by in the morning and grab a couple of your boxes, to show ‘em what they’re really missing, not that I want any of those degenerates hanging out here. I’m the only one aloud.” Deep, smooth his voice trails off into a laugh to soften the derogatory feelings toward himself and his brothers in blue. Reluctantly he finally pulls back all but his hands that rest on her hips. He knows the dough will rest well so he tries to maneuver her away from the counter and over to the stool where she can get off her feet and make herself comfortable while he serves up lunch. “How ‘bout you? Thinking you had an I just want a bath and bed kind of day, or a catch a movie with me and I rub your feet while you relax kind of one?”

@tarnishedhalo cont. from (x)

Even as he returns her smile, Corinne is keenly aware he’s one of the few people who misses very little. Aside from the fact that it’s part of his job, he’s far too observant. Not to mention the rather inauspicious opening line she’d given him.

She’s sufficiently distracted watching as he removes his uniform shirt. There’s something in the gesture that tugs at her in how he removes the outward signs of his job. It’s also there in the way he turns to her after, she already feels the knots that seem to be holding her limbs together begin to loosen their tenacious grip.

Corinne allows herself a moment to lean into him, there’s the indefinable sense of calm that settles over her as soon as he’s close. Her eyes flicker closed when she feels those fingers trace a tender trail down her arms and his lips touch her check, her smile rising as she hears his voice.

It feels as if she can take a breath. It occurs to her that he’s one of the very few people who takes equal care of her and it’s entirely possible that she allows it with him where she won’t necessarily with anyone else. She doesn’t examine it too closely, instead answering his question which drew an easy smile from her. “I’m fine.” She repeats the words, the different inflection conveying something else entirely. “Now.” She tacks on, the smile now infused in her tone as well. “The unexpected gift of food totally a bonus. Especially if you’re here to share it with me.”

It’s in those subtle things that remain unspoken. He doesn’t call out that he might have noticed how he surprised her or ask what’s wrong.

Reluctant to move from the comfort of his close proximity, she lingers a bit longer. “I’m happy for whatever reason made you decide to drop by. Especially with what smells heavenly and sounds amazing.“ She turns to glance up at him. “So, how was your shift?”

[tarnishedhalo]

A Slow Return

Hello All, I am going to be making a slow come back now that I feel less like I'm drowning in my thoughts. I know that I have missed a lot since I last left, but I am happy and willing to pick things back up from where they were left. Or, if interested in starting something new I am open to that as well.

As always I am lurking on both Tumblr and Discord.

Thank you for being patient with me. I know I have a terrible habit of being flaky and not commiting when I say that I will.

Your truly,

Stoat.

[tarnishedhalo]

@corinnebaileyrp, @morgansmornings

[tarnishedhalo]

SUPERNATURAL / FANTASY CHARACTER AESTHETICS.

bold what applies - italicize what sometimes applies - strike what never applies.

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 3am 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.

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 friends home. the crescent moon. the sea. a graveyard on a foggy day. cold rings on cold fingers. absolution. looking out the window of an airplane. soft kisses.

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 the clouds. petrichor. a dying rose in a jar. wearing a crystal pendant. illusions and spells. black cats. mint gum. chapped lips. dirt under your fingernails. the cycle of life and death.

THE WOLF. murders of crows. frost-bitten 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. sharp canines. soft, thick fur. hunger. a small cottage in the middle of the woods. knitted fingerless gloves. sleeping on the forest floor. always finding your way back home.

~*~

tagged by: my bruh @silverjetsystm tagging: everyone dreading thanksgiving this year for Reasons:tm:

[tarnishedhalo]

The nudge earns her a smile and he takes a bite of bacon before offering her the rest of the strip, holding it out to her with thumb and index only. He knows Jay bites nearly as hard as his sister does. "Never anything in the rules about me being fair or not. All that matters is you know I'm right."

Once the bacon is properly disposed of he begins to cut his crepes. "Now, forgetting Avery and Beth's mutt for the moment, we have more important things to discuss. "Parade kicks off at 0-eight-thirty. Means we should be at your place no later than 0-seven-hundred, givin' enough time for the traffic. I'm gonna have to do a lot of the prep-work for the next couple days and that means I'm gonna need your help."

"Parade ends at noon, we wanna do food no later than fifteen-hundred, and then most of us will be heading over to Sacred Heart to help Da Faux in the cooking and soup kitchen lines. Once we wrap up there, then it's back to my place for dessert and drinks. Have I left anything out or forgotten anything?" Because of course he has to have a minute-by-minute itinerary for the holiday and the run up to it. Staging that many people over three different locations is almost a job in and of itself.

tarnishedhalo​:

“Whatever. Least I got man pants.” He follows behind her with his own breakfast but leaves it mostly untouched in favour of his own coffee. What there is of it anyway in the nearly full mug. “Yeah, you do. If your goal is to drive the rest of us crazy sometimes. Like tell me again how you almost lost a hand when you were hunting down a fragment of the original the Book of Am-Duat. And the bullshittery you had with those weirdo Anubis-looking motherfuckers? Cause that was an amazing decision.” No, she’s not living that one down no matter how much she argues her case. He takes the ribbing about the stray with a certain grace and a fair grumble, but frowns when she says their wayward Glass Walker and Sidhe should be fine. He may not really like a lot of the other things that go bump in the night but he knows they are no more agents of the Adversary than he is. “And if it was say… Luc or Tabby, would you still be so confident?”

“Hey I said I made excellent choices, it’s not my fault that they can backfire.” Jayden said trying to play off the shiver than ran down her spine at the memory he evoked. Using her shifting in her seat to ‘get more comfortable’ as a cover.  She ponders his question. Letting the words and the faces come to her mind’s eye in excruciating detail.  Tabby was an interesting one to say the least. the blasé mask she wore always intrigued Jayden. She wanted to just spend the next three years figuring out every single detail that turned the young woman the way she was.  Luc on the other hand was…  Well? He was simply Luc. And she knew that if anything happened to him, it wouldn’t be just the Cabal that would be out on the streets as a unified front to find answers. No matter the cost. “Now that is not a fair comparison and you know it.” She stretched one leg out to nudge at his leg.

[tarnishedhalo]

[tarnishedhalo]

Genuinely curious here...my own version of a proctology check {meaning....is my head up my own ass?} An rp blog is recommended to you. You scroll through to see what the writing is like, the ooc/ic ratio, muses, etc. You see they have written an open starter that says "males preferred but females accepted" and I mean, on one hand...yeah I get it but it still turns me off because it feels exclusionary to women. I know a lot of female muns and muses {cis/trans/enby-with-leanings} that work so hard to be taken seriously, to put out good work. Only to find themselves constantly defeated, discouraged, ignored.