under control.

CNTRLIIING:  a  dash—only  gaming  multimuse.  Private,  independent,  &&  only  somewhat  selective.  Find  my  promo  here.  Rules,  muses,  &&  other  information  below  the  cut!!

Currently  Accepting:

☆   sonic  forces  starters ☆   detailed  action  prompts ☆   nonverbal  prompts ☆   headcanon  asks ☆   always  accepting  plotting  DMs,  unprompted  asks,  unprompted  starters,  greeters,  dash  comm,  replies  to  my  opens,  etc!!

Side  by  side  they  sat,  &&  it  was  strange.  Not  so  long  ago  Pat  had  joined  the  unpleasantly  long  list  of  people  that  Geo  knew  who  had  tried  to  kill  him,  but  the  vast  majority  of  individuals  who  made  that  list  either  hadn't  been  in  their  right  mind,  hadn't  known  his  true  identity,  or  both.  NEITHER  of  those  things  could  be  said  about  Patrick.  

But  that  was  partially  because  things  were  just  different  for  him.  This  was  something  Geo  knew,  &&  something  they  had  in  common,  kind  of.  He  couldn't  help  but  to  forgive  him,  especially  after  Pat  had  helped  to  guide  him  back  to  Earth.  It  wasn't  all  so  SIMPLE.  

With  all  the  strain  his  body  had  been  under  &&  the  injuries  he  had  sustained,  Geo  was  still  bedridden,  but  his  friends  visiting  made  the  rest  days  go  by  much  more  quickly  &&  easily.  Mr.  Boreal  had  brought  Pat  by,  &&  was  downstairs  talking  to  Geo's  mother.

The  look  was  probably  well  warranted.  Even  at  only  a  fraction  of  his  true  power,  Infinite  was  still  a  worthy  threat,  powerful  enough  to  give  them  a  all  a  heap  of  trouble  if  he  chose  to.  &&  for  now,  his  reasons  for  choosing  NOT  to  were  his  own,  played  close  to  his  chest.

At  the  very  least,  even  having  suffered  the  unequivocal  humiliation  of  defeat,  he  could  take  pleasure  in  just  how  much  his  presence  rattled  them.  They  could  pick  a  fight,  perhaps,  but  they  fought  with  each  other  instead,  debating  whether  it  was  best  not  to  make  him  VIOLENT,  or  whether  his  violence  was  an  inevitability  &&  it  was  best  to  strike  first.  Every  time  a  hand  was  raised  toward  him,  another  pushed  it  down.  So  long  as  he  didn’t  make  any  trouble.

&&  he  hadn’t  yet  chosen  to  make  any  trouble.

Behind  the  mask,  he  was  smirking,  observing  Knuckles  just  as  intently  as  he  was  being  observed.  He  knew  very  well  that  the  echidna  was  firmly  in  camp  ATTACK  FIRST,  but  he  was  being  held  back  by  the  opinions  of  his  comrades.

Weak.  Pathetic.  This  would  be  what  brought  him  back  to  his  former  glory.  

Tails  had  known  for  a  few  minutes  now  that  someone  was——  no  pun  intended,  TAILING  HIM.  It  would  have  been  easy  to  miss  for  a  fox  without  his  keen  eye  &&  sensitive  hearing,  but  he  was  sure  of  it  now.  Glancing  back  had  revealed  nothing,  so  in  the  interest  of  safety  he  played  it  cool,  pretending  not  to  be  suspicious,  conscious  not  to  look  around.  

Until  the  first  chance  he  got.  Hiding  himself  quickly  around  a  corner,  he  laid  in  wait,  tense  &&  ready  to  pounce,  for  his  invisible  stalker  to  reveal  themself.  &&  sure  enough,  there  around  the  corner  came  movement,  &&  he  jumped  out  in  their  way  with  an  accusatory  point.  

Mamoru  didn't  miss  that  little  glance,  Utagai.  For  just  a  moment,  their  eyes  connected.  With  it  came  that  jolt  of  surprise  that  comes  when  you  realize  somebody  you're  looking  at  is  also  looking  back  at  you.  But  when  Utagai  looked  hastily  away,  pretending  to  have  been  looking  at  something  else,  his  own  gaze  remained.  He  was  far  too  bold  a  man  to  look  aside  so  sheepishly.  

Too  bad  Utagai  wasn’t  so  bold  himself,  lowering  storm  grey  eyes  beneath  long  eyelashes  &&  a  wave  of  ashen  hair.  He  had  such  distinctive,  handsome  features,  hidden  by  reserved  temperament  &&  a  refusal  to  take  good  care  of  himself.  A  shy  person  who  had  opened  up  only  after  a  great  deal  of  difficulty  in  doing  so.