- ̗̀ 'how aboot it eh? ̖́-

✰ madmonarch‌ .✧

   `THEY SAY THERE WERE BEINGS THAT CAME CRAWLING AT THE WORST TIMES. ‘DRAWN IN BY EMOTIONAL EXTREMES. Perhaps such creatures existed / PERHAPS THEY WERE JUST HUMANS OF AN OPPORTUNISTIC NATURE / and the royally titled catastrophe that held head high and pride higher could perhaps be deemed an exhibit of such possibilities. (A SPIDER EXPOSING ITSELF AT THE FIRST DISRUPTION OF A RUG). One that simply shouldn’t be there without having been noticed / AND YET APPEARED AS IF MADE OF SHADOWS.

   `OF COURSE HE HAD HIS WAYS OF KNOWING. ‘OF WHY THE PUPPETEER HAD APPEARED FROM BEHIND A CURTAIN, AND WHY NOW. Now, without request. HE KEPT TABS. (WHERE HE WANTED EYES AND EARS, HE COULD HAVE THEM / HE COULD HAVE IT ALL AFTER ALL). All under fingers— - fingers currently exerting a telling pressure against a compressed grip / HOLDING, HOLDING (A COBRA WRAPPED AROUND A RAT). And on his face? Wrapped a smile, something that would almost seem FRIENDLY if it weren’t for the unforgiving glint in eyes of azure.     ❝ -—- What do I want? Is a talk so bad?❞

  `HIS PURRED VOICE HELD NO KINDNESS. ‘THE CURL OF A VOICE HELD NOTHING MORE THEN AN ADD-IN TO THE APPEARANCE HE WAS PRESENTING. A guise that was observing and DISSECTING (HOLDING NO CARE FOR THE VASE IN A HAND / TO THE MUSCLES WRAPPED TO RUN). And there seems to be a cruel sense of amusement weaved deep within his bones. (DEEP AND DEEPER STILL). All that was exposed, and all that could be withdrawn without it.        ❝ -—- You look distressed.❞    Oh, LOOK, what a poor word choice. It was obvious he knew, AND HE JUST WAS TRYING TO DRAG THIS ALONG– - always the fan of the slow incision rather then a quick, jagged, and SLOPPY cut. 

    ceruleans look at the other in pure disbelief trying to comprehend what was just said to her face. for him to so blatantly imply that he knew her pain made her clutch the vase tighter. SHE REALLY WANTED TO HIT HIM. the assassin looks the mastermind straight in his eyes. ❛ i don’t want to fucken’ talk to you. ❜

    she shouldn’t be so surprised having been associated with someone outside the ministry’s circle. her colleagues have warned her to break the relationship sooner and she wasn’t going to deny her stubbornness. she truly believed that if there was anyone who could change MAVIN it would be her; a friend and a willing ally should he cross to her side. but she only played herself a fool. somewhere, in the deepest cavern within her mind she knew the inevitable ---- they would break at some point. they were simply not meant to be and while the past month and few weeks have been difficult she had slowly began accepting the possibility of letting go. that is, until this asshole popped up like houdini and challenged her lack of sleep and depression over his assassin’s doing. 

    of course, she should have expected that the division would never last as their respective bureaus can only act as a safe house for so long. but she hadn’t been prepared for this. hadn’t been prepared to be  alone  again after parting ways with MAVIN. she hadn’t been prepared to find herself standing in a secluded part of the store with the man she had yet to prepare to meet in much different and dangerous circumstances gripping her wrist. for her to pass by casually to what should be a normal day and for him to appear out of the blue and take her arm, his fingers hot and searing her skin leaving invisible marks. he shares the face of a friend but she knows that this man isn’t her COMRADE.

    she tries to tug her arm away, leaning her posture to a particular direction to run but she’s pulled right back in. she takes a step closer, planning to demand for her release but what comes out is a meek voice; tired and admittedly terrified. ❛ what do you want from me ? ❜

    they could face each other without a knife disguised as a hair clip or a gun hidden within the lining of a well tailored jacket and still cause lethal injury with well constructed words. what did she do wrong? what did she say that made him cold and apathetic again? or perhaps the answer is a lot simpler than she’s making it out to be. maybe... she’s the problem.

    her entire world fractured in a mere second. she wishes she’d felt a knife twisting itself into her skin instead of having to pretend that what just happened is something she should just accept which, she does. she stands a little too quickly, knocking her cup of coffee off the table as it explodes into pieces beneath her feet. she doesn’t hear her voice but she’s aware that she’s said that she’s sorry as all eyes fall on her and the cafe is silent. her throat hurts, and she has trouble speaking but she’s on flight mode now. she needs to get out of here. she just... she’s the problem. she’s just clinging onto an idea of a ghost that has long passed. he’s gone now and she’s just giving him another problem to deal with.

    ❛ I --- gotta go. ❜ she takes a step forward and she breaks into a sprint instead, one hand clutching the strap of her purse and the other pushing the door to the cafe she comes stumbling out of. then she’s running, faster than she’s ever run before in heels as she fishes out her keys from her coat pockets and unlocks her vehicle.

    she’s in the wrangler, red painted finger nails gripping the steering wheel. she can’t accept what they’ve become in a matter of seconds but... as the tears finally fall she accepts that they’re back to square one. she pulls out of the parking lot and onto the road. she won’t be coming home ---- did she even have a home to go back to anymore? she’s alone now. so she just drives. and the road ahead is the only thing that is endless before her so, she’ll just have to keep on driving into the night.

There’s some ships you ship… that have massive amounts of shippers right along with you. Then there’s the ships… those ships you have that are near and dear to your heart where you’re in a fucking canoe with like… four other people.

                                                Caring Edition 

‘ Hey when was the last time you slept? ’

‘ Stay in bed, please. ’

‘ Do you want me to get you anything? ’

‘ Let me look. ’

‘ Let me help you. ’

‘ Here, let me bandage that up. ’

‘ I made you something to eat. ’

‘ You’re burning up! Go lay down. ’

‘ Please drink more water. ’

‘ Were you able to keep that down? ’

‘ Does this hurt? ’

‘ You need to stay still. ’

‘ Want more blankets? ’

‘ Do you want to talk about it? ’

‘ Try to breathe slowly. ’

‘ It’s alright I’m here. ’

‘ Here hold my hand. ’

‘ I’m not going anywhere. ’

‘ You can sleep here. ’

‘ Rest as long as you need. ’

‘ Look at me. ’

‘ Tell me what you are seeing. ’

‘ You can rest in my arms. ’

‘ I will make you some tea. ’

‘ Please, take this. ’

‘ You should be resting. ’

‘ I’m just checking in, how are you feeling? ’

‘ Snuggling helps with a lot of things, so come here. ’

‘ Want me to take you to a doctor? ’

‘ I am a doctor, so please listen to me. ’

Rules: Bold what applies to your muse and reblog

SNOW WHITE. jade trinket boxes. taste of iron. fingertips on a mirror.  yellow and green with envy.  long handled hunting knives.  sewing by the window.  combs laced with pearls and poison. an apple white one side and red the other.  white doves.  frosted glass.

THE MAIDEN WITHOUT HANDS. a blunt axe.  a ring of chalk.  tear-stained cheeks.  sweet pears.  hands tied behind back.  shallow rivers. aching feet, walking for days. flowing gowns.  liquid silver.  wax seals. blinding lights.

THE THREE LITTLE GNOMES IN THE FOREST. lukewarm bath water.  sapphire butterflies.   tiny milk snakes.  baskets of strawberries.  fat toads.  sparkling snow.  fur cloaks.  raw gemstones.  kettles made of copper.  red wine.  a tiny cottage in the middle of nowhere.

BLUE BEARD. a tiny key made of gold.  pools of blood. stains that won’t rub away.  galloping hooves.  treasures from far away lands.  dragged by the hair.  dark and damp cellars. marble walls.  shivering with fear. screaming at the top of your lungs.

THE SIX SWANS. sitting side-saddle.  daughter of a witch.  nettles.  white feathers. refusing to smile.  needles and threads.  a castle in the forest.  sound of beating wings. birthmarks.  climbing trees.  balls of yarn. silver crowns.

LITTLE RED CAP. wildflowers.  rich-tasting cake. wicker baskets.  the path rarely trod. sharp teeth.  curtains drawn.  a dying fireplace.  grey pelts. red velvet.  handmade quilts.  sunlight peeking through branches. opening corks with a satisfying pop.  looking someone directly in the eye.

      ACCURATELY, THIS WAS SADISTIC AND SICK. Absolutely, undeniably, messed up. The lie couldn’t even be proceduced that he didn’t realize the reaction would be this severe- HE WAS THE CAUSE OF IT AND HE WASN’T DECREASING IT. Even the fiends of hell might’ve spared a more remorseful expression, at least some type of deviation in gaze. NOT HIM. 

        ❝ -—- Do you really want that? If I were to say yes, would you prefer more pretending? Playing the person I never was? Because I feel like I made it clear when I was found out that I wasn’t who I said I was. Do you want me to talk like I used to? Really?❞               A questioning, PRODDING expression joined with the response of a similar nature. 

        ❝ -—- Honestly- the fact its a question of whether you should or shouldn’t hate me is bloody mad. But I already said you forgive too much. I’m not here to change minds, nor blow them.❞            Humor lacking any amusement to it, he let it fall off the tongue like the rest. The sound of a few WAYWARD STEPS taken filled the air, closing a bit more of the gap. A DANGEROUS CHOICE, but one made all the same. At this point, he wasn’t more than a few feet from the distraught agent- it was like pushing an open wire next to the steady leak, expecting things to go fine. THOUGH, THERE WAS NO EXPECTATION.

       ❝ -—- You wanting my honesty? How much will you believe- I’ve lied before, and I’ll do it again. So, I guess take what I say as you will. When it comes to Rooster Corps, the company was a load of toss that was bound to fall apart- literally anyone could see no one could run things correctly, and everything was done poorly. Who makes a super weapon and spreads it between the agents? That’s poor planning, amongst other things they did. My time is Rooster Corps isn’t something I put too high on a pedestal. Most of the agents as well were just stepping stones at best. However, in the past when I did say you were one of the ones I prefered working with, that wasn’t a lie.❞  

    she’s trapped, left with her lower back pressed against the edge of the kitchen sink with tears still streaming down her cheeks. ceruleans staring into green ones. red painted finger nails coming up to wipe at the sorrow in her eyes at the other’s calm approach. admittedly her visitor had a point. the idea of a death ray while in its core had been a ridiculous idea she wouldn’t deny that one horrible idea lead to keeping temporary peace among various agencies around the globe as well. every agent had their faults, some more than others.

    she made an effort to keep her own hindrances at a minimum for the organization’s benefit to which of course, that reason alone is why most like her england guest preferred her company compared to others. she knows this, and the thought of being eliminated like the rest if given the chance or if she became a burden for the other to execute is sickening to think about putting their history with one another into consideration. ❛ when the others were still alive everyone within the circle knew that the moment MI6 left their seat empty at the briefing table one day something had happened to you. you lost someone close to you. someone you cared about deeply. but when you came back... you seemed fine. ❜

    ❛ if i knew how much you were hurting i would’ve said something... i would’ve tried... i should’ve. no, i did know. i was just too scared. scared that if i said anything you’d stop being my friend. but some friend i turned out to be, right? i fucked up. i was selfish... i wish i talked to you more ---- not just about stupid things and silly jokes but about the real things too. the things that mattered.

    the warmth from the sunlight peeking through a gap the in curtains stirs her awake, eyes fluttering open and baby blues adjusting focus on the ceiling. she yawns, blinking away the tears before reaching over to the other side of the bed where her hand makes contact with the mattress and to her surprise, has her turning over to find that the body she had slept with the night before is nowhere to be found. moose sits up, one hand brushing through her blonde disheveled locks as she turns to the open door. ❛ baby? ❜ 

    no answer. he always did go to work early. with another morning yawn she swings her legs over the bed and stands up, proceeding to tidy the mattress and slide on her horse riding boots from the lack of slippers ( knowing that she should really get some slippers to avoid tracking mud all over the floor ). making a mental note that she’ll probably forget later, she throws on a robe and she ties the belt into place to cover up. bounding down the stairs she hops the last step, half running to the kitchen to make breakfast and spying the vase of flowers on the kitchen counter.

    beside the flowers is a wrapped present which causes her bewilderment and has her raising a brow. today is definitely not her birthday but it was… oh. oh ! lifting the lid off the box she finds a rainbow of chocolates, some wrapped in metallic foil and others carved in ornate shapes. with the realization finally hitting her she pops one chocolate in her mouth and scratches her head. ❛ ah shit. way to go moose, eh ? forgetting it’s valentines day. ❜ 

    the ministry can handle operations today. she needed to shop for the most alluring lingerie she can find among other things. perhaps purchasing an engraved knife collection would be nice. maybe a few pistols —- gold patent ones? nah. she’s settling to get all.

        ❛ Well, for one, it’s not beer, it’s Diet Coke. I don’t drink alcohol. ❜ He stated, frowning slightly. To think he would be so RECKLESS as that, well, it honestly stung. Of course, she didn’t really know him too well and he didn’t know her. So he supposed he could forgive that oversight. 

       Sighing, he tossed the can in the trash, shaking his head. ❛ It helps me think. Maybe it’s the caffeine, but I think better when I’m awake. I don’t like coffee. It’s bitter. So I drink Diet Coke to give me the caffeine I need to think. ❜ He explained, giving a light shrug and a chuckle. ❛ Trust me, the last person you have to worry about being DRUNK on a mission, is me.  ❜

    ❛ oh ! sorry... ❜ somewhat stunned by the answer she half falls into her seat, staring at the documents on the table as she takes the man’s words into consideration. alright, she can work with diet coke. she shouldn’t have assumed that a can of something meant beer right away. perhaps she was presuming to know the mole finder more than she should be. the idea is definitely counter productive ---- seems like she’s still in the process of moving on from what had happened with the fall of ROOSTER CORP.