xincaendium

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empathxia:

She didn’t notice it at first, intent as she was upon taking stock  of her patient’s wounds,  murmuring the usual questions about  how he’d come by the bruises and where the worst of the pain  was centered. It was mostly bruising, not too much blood save  for his battered knuckles.  Some manner of fight, then, and the  scent of alcohol lingering on his person told her all she needed  to know about what had spurred it.

      No, she didn’t notice at first, but as she lifted a hand to flash her        penlight in his eyes,  meaning to check for concussion, her gaze       settled on the backs of her fingers  and the mottled bruises that        had begun to blossom along her knuckles.  They were a strange        color, but one she’d come to know all too well.  Inhaling sharply,        Sig dropped her eyes  to where the man held  his fists clenched        in his lap, tilting her head as the pattern became suddenly clear.

                        .  .  . oh.

      “It’s—you, isn’t it? You get into so much trouble.”

he hardly made drinking a normal thing. Not with the blood coursing through his veins and genetics at play; he knew better. And, yet, somehow he found himself in the bar again. It was probably some small thing, just a drink to calm the nerves and of course, one turned into uncountable and then some asshole said something...

And did he actually remember what happened after that? Broken glass, and curt curses spat through blood and spit and hate. Which explained the stinging on his lips, and the throbbing in his head and ribs. And why Elijah wasn't paying any attention at all to the woman in front of him. He'd just get patched up and go home and sleep this off. It wasn't until she spoke that he even registered something different in the air. Slowly, dark eyes raised and he frowned.

"What? D'yer nurses talk about me then? I don't get int' trouble that often. Least not 'nough that I'm in here all'a time."

xincaendium

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[xincaendium]

ɪ’ᴠᴇ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ʜᴇᴀʀᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴠᴏɪᴄᴇ ᴏғ ɢᴏᴅ; ʙᴜᴛ ʏᴏᴜ’ʀᴇ ᴀɴ ᴀɴsᴡᴇʀᴇᴅ ᴘʀᴀʏᴇʀ

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/sneaks on Bl

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empathxia:

                  “Biased or not, I shall accept the compliment, I think.”              Sigyn shifted  beside him,  casually nudging her  cold toes              under Elijah’s ankles as she tucked her head in against his              neck.  Her free arm  linked through his  so her hand  could              slide a light grip down his forearm,  thumb gently brushing              the inside of his wrist.  “Only the fact that I am one myself,              of course.”  Her other hand  was still captured  by a single              finger caught in a tiny fist. “And I know that if she’s half so             wonderful a person as you when she grows up,  then I will              be a proud one as well.” 

                  A grin and a shake of his head was her only reply.           Immediately, at least.     He couldn't actually remember           the  last  time  he  had thought of his mother  without  a           surge of guilt swarming through his chest,  but  not  this           time.    Elijah probably had Sigyn to thank for that,  and           it had nothing to do with empathetic,    mood controlling           powers.    Of course,  it did help that she was more of a           beacon  in  a  dark  storm--a  lighthouse  was  a   better           suited analogy.   Not that he'd ever say that aloud.   He           had a reputation to maintain, after all. No sap, ever. "I'd           call bias again,   but I'm pretty sure I  only  get  one  per           conversation.    I'd rather she be like you though.  I ain't           all rainbows and gummy bears, y'know."

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empathxia:

               “Well, I am relieved that you think so, nonetheless.”             Her head lifts, lips alighting briefly on the underside of             Elijah’s jaw. “…I know.” And she’s possibly one of the             only people in the universe  who can say those words              and truly mean them. “For whatever it’s worth, I think             she’d be proud of you now. Any mother would.” Eyes             turn back to the child  in his arms as she babbles in a            language of infants. “And I am now uniquely qualified            to assume that much, at least.” 

                    "A'course I could be completely biased. You should--"           Elijah actually shut himself up this time.      'You should check           with Bri to make sure' was what he almost said,    but thought           much, much better of it.   This subject was hard for him to talk           about--he was never going to force that on his sister.  Instead,           he  shifted  and  turned  his  concentration  back  to  Rosalind,           fingers tracing a soft pattern against her arm. "I hope so.  And           y'are, are ya? What makes ya so uniquely qualified to assume           things? I was always told assumin' lead to makin' asses out of           the people involved. But, if yer so sure, darlin'."

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empathxia:

                 “Do you think she would have approved of me?”               It’s a light-hearted question offered to curb a heavy               sorrow;  though she cannot help noting  the familiar               sadness came without its  usual companion of fiery               rage. Perhaps this is a good thing. “I am, after all, a               few hundred years older than you.” 

                    He laughed, although it was breathy and quiet before           shaking his head. "How could she not?   She would'a loved           you, Sigyn. Medicinal witchy powers n'all."    And that is the           truth, or the truth as he knows it. Or how he hopes it.  Does           it truly matter which  when  the  person in question is dead?           "I really miss'er. Especially now."

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empathxia:

              “I do—and I hope that I’m right.” Sigyn mirrors him,                 settling in  at his side with her chin  tucked against                 his shoulder. “I like your eyes.”  She reaches out to                 smooth  Rosie’s onesie  across her chest,  pausing                as she feels  the tiny heart fluttering  against under                 her hand.  “And  I wish  I could have  met her,”  she                 adds quietly,  eyes focused down on the babe who,                 having  captured  one of  Sigyn’s  fingers  in her fist,                 now seems to have decided it belongs in her mouth. 

                                The shift in his stance to accommodate her           was one  that  he  barely  thought  about,  it  was  such  a           second  nature  by now  that  it happened  almost without           his willing it to. "I ain't got a clue why. They're just brown."           But,  there's  a  small  smile  tugging  at  the  corner of his           lips, but it disappears quickly.   Elijah leans his head back           against the headboard behind him with a soft sigh. "Yeah.           Me too."

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empathxia:

          “Fair enough.” She pauses a moment, simply watching             his face as he looks down at the child, then leans over             to press her lips briefly to his cheek.  Fatherhood suits              him, she thinks, but it’s not something she’s not about             to say aloud in as many words just now. “Her eyes are             just the same color as yours, I think.” 

                    "Ya think? Most babies are born with dark eyes            though."       He looks up momentarily  before sinking            backwards  into  the  mountain   of   pillows that have            somehow   congregated   on   their   bed.    (Probably            pesky magic,  if  anyone  was to  ask  him;  of course            no one ever did.) "I kinda hope so, though. Somethin'            of Momma's should survive at any rate."

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empathxia:

          “Don’t be cross. It only means they are all the better             to hold her with, do you not think?” She leans down             to press her lips gently to Rosie’s head, hand gently             smoothing over blonde tufts of hair.  “And look! You             are a natural. I’ve not had to remind you to support             her head  even once  since we  brought her  home.” 

          "I  do have  a younger sister who I did--on occasion--            hold as a baby.     Granted I was five, but..."       [ He            shrugs a shoulder,     glancing up momentarily at her            before looking back down and gently nudged Rosie's            hand with  a finger--which  she  quickly  wrapped  her            hand around. ] "I do remember how to do it."

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Gina: yeah but then it could also be hilarious because pregnant!Sigyn is even weirder than regular Sigyn Sammi: .. omg Sammi: weeeeell his life has never beEN NORMAL SO WHAT THE HELL :l Gina: craves strange things Gina: like kale chips Gina: ”i don’t know what they are but i want them.”

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it all started with whining and a smile

pretty much elijah and sigyn

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#gINA #LOOK #it’s the basis of c&cb

"she’s afraid of fire and he’s a pyrokinetic"

"he dislikes anything medical and she’s a healer"

"wouldn’t they make the most unlikely friends?"

"ahahahaahaha"

"sammi halp it’s 3am and I think I ship it"

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empathxia:

          “Never mind your hands making her look smaller             by comparison?”  ( She says, as if she is dainty             and not the Amazonian woman she actually is. ) 

          "And your's do not? C'mon now, Sigyn. Teasin' ain't            very nice, y'know."   [ Not that he particularly cares,            or that  he's looked  up from  Rosie since   she was            placed in his arms. ]     "Anymore of that and I'll tell            yer brother that yer bein' right mean."    [ ... Right. ]

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empathxia:

⎣ xincaendium ⎤

              “She looks so small like this .  .  .”

          "It could be 'cause she's small in general, darlin'."

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ɪ'ᴠᴇ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ʜᴇᴀʀᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴠᴏɪᴄᴇ ᴏғ ɢᴏᴅ; ʙᴜᴛ ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ᴀɴ ᴀɴsᴡᴇʀᴇᴅ ᴘʀᴀʏᴇʀ