# ᶜᵒᶜᵏᵗᵃⁱˡ 𝒎𝒐𝒍𝒐𝒕𝒐𝒗!

#𝙵𝟷𝚂𝚃𝚂.   AN INDEPENDENT, CANON-DIVERGENT[*] PORTRAYAL OF 𝑽𝑰𝑶𝑳𝑬𝑻 FROM THE FORTICHE ANIMATED LEAGE OF LEGENDS SERIES: ᴬᴿᑦᴬᴺᴱ. CONTEXTUALLY MATURE THEMES ﹠ TRIGGERING CONTENT WILL BE PRESENT. MINORS AND PERSONALS DNI. MEDIUM ACTIVITY, SLOW TO REPLY. REMADE IN OCTOBER OF 2025. 𝙱𝙴𝚃 𝙾𝙽 𝙱𝚈 𝙷𝙴𝚁𝙴𝚃𝙸𝙲.

🥊💥 ᴮᴿᴬᵂᴸᴵᴺᴳ ᵂᴵᵀᴴ [ ... ] FRANKIE! JAYNE! IRIS! ˎˊ˗

#.SIDE BLOG.    #.PROMPTS.   #.PINTEREST.    #.PLAYLIST.     #.INFORMATION.

A  BRUISED  EXPLORATION  OF... THE DOOMED GUARDIAN, ADDICTION, BIBLICAL WRATH, ELDEST DAUGHTER SYNDROME, UNRESOLVED CHILDHOOD TRAUMA, CERBERUS (GUARDIAN OF THE UNDERWORLD), POVERTY, CLASSISM, THE DIRT UNDER YOUR NAILS, USING YOUR FISTS UNTIL THEY'RE SPLIT DOWN TO THE BONE, FERAL DOG TEETH, SURVIVOR'S GUILT, THE COMPLICATIONS OF SISTERHOOD, EATING THE RICH, AND THE COLOR RED.

────   rules  listed  below,

❛ ────i sold my soul to a woman in mexico, ❜

𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐌𝐀𝐍 𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐍'𝐓 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐎𝐍 𝐀 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐀𝐔𝐃𝐀𝐂𝐈𝐓𝐘 [ ... ] all your life you'd been overhearing side-of-the-mouth whispers about the size of your own proverbial set and the steel they must've been crafted from. WHATEVER AND WHEREVER THE FIGHT, YOU ALWAYS GOT BACK UP OFF THE GROUND. kinda like spider-man in mylo's old comic books, likely now abandoned and rotting inside the mattress of his childhood bed.

there was no prejudice in your fists between friends and strangers on the street, ( or strangers in cars. ) when you walked up to this one: eyeing the car, ( memorizing the plates, ) you sucked your teeth with your tongue and shook the hair from your eyes .. ready for whatever came after the confrontation, whether that be peaceful or not.

❛ ────wanna tell me why you've been following me all damn day, or do i have to use my imagination? ❜

𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐋, 𝐔𝐍𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆 ; 𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐋, which in a town like albuquerque was a great deal more than few and far between. ( still, what were the odds? ) [ ... ] ( you might've wondered, if only you knew him by name. ) a quick, unassuming glance cemented the fact that you'd neither seen nor heard him around here before. the guy was pressed and refined like old money. shockingly blonde. tall, but not necessarily threatening.

another glimpse, and you consider he might just be the owner of that pristine '98 jag was parked outside ──── ripe for the picking to anyone who was bold, stupid, or high enough.

you snort, wiping the sweat from your brow onto the shoulder of your shirt before you steady the bag. teetering on the edge of whether or not to keep your trap shut before inevitably tumbling over. gloves on, knees soft. you drop your guard,

❛ ────look, man .. i know it's not any of my business, but... you don't actually expect to hit somebody like that, right? 'cause if you do, you better hope they got about as much skill to hit you back. pretty much excludes just about everybody who hangs around this joint. no offense. ❜

𝐆𝐔𝐓 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐀 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐇 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃 that reached across and snatched the still-smoldering fag from between your lips. a dog's reflex, translated by a flicker of raw emotion in the grey and little else. ( your old man didn't raise you to surrender, ) ( but he didn't raise you to be an animal either ) ────

life inside taught you that one, at great cost to your innate humanity. turns out even superficial habits were a pain in the ass to break.

a proverbial step backward is taken: recognition of the hand. for kim, you'd let it slide. SHE WAS ALLOWED TO TEST YOUR LIMITS [ ... ] god forbid she ever realized just what it was exactly she was dealing with.

❛ ────planning on giving that back anytime soon, or should i light another one and write my damn name on it this time? ❜ vi's tone held no genuine bitterness, but she didn't laugh or smile about it either. not the type.

[ * ] @arcadeian 𝙿𝙻𝙰𝙲𝙴𝙳 𝚃𝙷𝙴𝙸𝚁 𝙱𝙴𝚃 ! ˎˊ˗

𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐔𝐆𝐀 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐀𝐒 𝐌𝐔𝐂𝐇 '𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄' 𝐀𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐘𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐄𝐋𝐒𝐄 ; the sounds, the smells [ ... ] the constant thin veil of smoke that stained the air, clinging to one's hair and leathers ──── even days after being at sea. it wasn't the type of place one ran from clean. remnants of the island and it's inhabitants stuck to you like tar. somewhere in the depths of the rundown old pub, the shriek of shattered glass signaled a scuffle. ( didn't even make you blink twice t'hear it, ) ( unlike others who were likely less seasoned. )

vi arched a single scarred brow over the lip of her mug toward turner, bloodshot grey eyes sweeping from the top of his head down to his shoes. ❛ ────so .. we got a deal, pretty boy? or are you just standing there t'waste my time? ❜

[ * ] @backlotvideo 𝙿𝙻𝙰𝙲𝙴𝙳 𝚃𝙷𝙴𝙸𝚁 𝙱𝙴𝚃 ! ˎˊ˗

𖥻 │▌ 𝙰 𝙼𝙴𝚂𝚂𝙰𝙶𝙴 𝙰𝚁𝚁𝙸𝚅𝙴𝚂 𝙵𝚁𝙾𝙼 𝚂𝙾𝙿𝚁𝙰𝙽𝙾, 𝚃𝙾𝙽𝚈 : ❝ 𝙵𝙰𝙼𝙸𝙻𝚈 .. 𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚈'𝚁𝙴 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙾𝙽𝙻𝚈 𝙾𝙽𝙴𝚂 𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝙲𝙰𝙽 𝙳𝙴𝙿𝙴𝙽𝙳 𝙾𝙽. ❞

𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐄 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐀𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐄 ; and it burned like hell when you forced yourself to swallow it back down into your guts. an indignant child's breed of petulant questions grew and wilted in it's stead, ( what about when family was gone? ) [ ... ] ( how far does your fuckin' wisdom get me at a graveside? ) ( .. is there even a graveside? or is it just an old, defiled crime scene? ) ──── despite your temper, you knew better. the families didn't easily suffer fools.

greatest display of strength you could hope to make was to sit there and take it with gritted teeth pulsing just beneath your cheek. wrapped up fists tightening beneath the table, chorused with an audible creak of worn cotton and bruised joints. you huff out a sigh and even go so far as to force a wry smirk onto scarred lips.

whatever display of humour ( or the distinct lack thereof ) ultimately fell short of your eyes, even when you were sat before @unforgivable.

❛ ────hm. vander used to tell me the same thing, .. went on about it more times than i can count. ❜ vi swirled her choice of swill around inside the glass, watching the smooth caramel colour as it danced within crystal. couldn't quite force herself to sip it just yet. hands were too numb. with any luck, her face was about to get a whole lot more numb.

❛ can i level with you, t? .. i don't know where the hell i fit into all of this anymore. was almost easier inside - i spent so many nights hungry, bloody, counting the hours. getting back to powder was what kept me going, y'know? .. but now? i don't even know where to start looking for her. ❜ ( if she's even still alive, ) probably went without saying.

𖥻 │▌ 𝙰 𝙼𝙴𝚂𝚂𝙰𝙶𝙴 𝙰𝚁𝚁𝙸𝚅𝙴𝚂 𝙵𝚁𝙾𝙼 𝙹𝙸𝙽𝚇 : ❝ 𝙶𝙴𝚃 𝚄𝙿. 𝚈𝙾𝚄'𝚁𝙴 𝚂𝚃𝙸𝙻𝙻 𝙸𝙽 𝙾𝙽𝙴 𝙿𝙸𝙴𝙲𝙴. ❞

𝐒𝐇𝐄'𝐒 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓, 𝐊𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐎. 𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆. a grunt, hand cradling the side of your ribs as you try to wrangle air back into your lungs. ( vander's voice oozing from behind jinx's dark lips, ) [ ... ] ( it almost serves to make you that much angrier. ) like a ghost hand-puppeting another ghost ; YOU'D BEGRUDGINGLY BEGUN TO WEIGH THAT THE STORY OF YOUR HAUNTING WOULD NEVER END. remembering was a damn sickness. everyone you'd ever known was different than they were before, but memory still shone through their eyes.

turns out you can't escape the past. .. can't even run from it.

with a furrowed brow and hard slate-grey eyes, you swat @fifthimpact's hand away: ❛ ────yeah, thanks. believe it or not, i managed to figured that much out for myself. ❜

with gritted teeth, vi crawled painfully back to her feet. snorting back into her throat and then spitting what gathered there out with a splat! upon the pavement. ( that's my girl, ) vander whispered hoarsely. it was enough to make the brawler's hair stand on end. ❛ .. well? what's our next move? ❜

𖥻 │▌ 𝙰 𝙼𝙴𝚂𝚂𝙰𝙶𝙴 𝙰𝚁𝚁𝙸𝚅𝙴𝚂 𝙵𝚁𝙾𝙼 𝚆𝙴𝚇𝙻𝙴𝚁, 𝙺𝙸𝙼 : ❝ 𝚆𝙷𝙴𝙽 𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝙵𝙸𝚁𝚂𝚃 𝚃𝙾𝙻𝙳 𝙼𝙴, 𝙸 𝚃𝙷𝙾𝚄𝙶𝙷𝚃 𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝚆𝙴𝚁𝙴 𝙼𝙴𝚂𝚂𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚆𝙸𝚃𝙷 𝙼𝙴. ❞

𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐀𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐍 𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐀𝐓 𝐀 𝐒𝐀𝐅𝐄 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄, 𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐘 the flickering old neon of what was once your father's legacy. THE LAST DROP, ( or what was left of it. ) even from across the broken street, it felt like looming outside cemetery gates. watching the ghosts of strangers enter and exit ──── some stumbling, some hauntingly steady. used to be a respectable place when you were a kid; you could remember laying low with your brothers in the basement while merriment carried on in the bar [ ... ] doing dishes in the kitchen. hauling out bags of stale old beer bottles into the dumpster out back, thinking about how it would make you stronger.

now the old jukebox that housed your mother's favourite records was rotting outside, a pile of broken glass and wood. the pub was the cartel's now. had been since .. well. everything. your head hangs and you blink the mist from your eyes, wary of staring too long 'lest you caught a glimpse of vander's ghost smoking his pipe outside. you could feel him there even if he was out of sight. stubborn old fuckin' man.

( were your sister's drawings still on the walls, you wonder? ) .. nah. probably painted over, or faded into nothing by time.

vi cocked an eyebrow, rummaging around for the wrinkled pack of wilmington menthols in the pocket of her shirt and popping a fresh cig hanging loosely between her lips: ❛ ────hm. well, here's to the most depressing 'i told you so' in the damn world, i guess. ❜ she murmurs before going halting movement rather suddenly, still unlit ────

a hand extends the pack toward @arcadeian, offering wexler one of her vices as she unlocks the car. ❛ [ ... ] we should probably go. 's not safe around here anymore. .. things have changed. ❜

𖥻 │▌ 𝙰 𝙼𝙴𝚂𝚂𝙰𝙶𝙴 𝙰𝚁𝚁𝙸𝚅𝙴𝚂 𝙵𝚁𝙾𝙼 𝙻𝙾𝙲𝙺𝚆𝙾𝙾𝙳, 𝙲𝙰𝚂𝚂𝙰𝙽𝙳𝚁𝙰 : ❝ 𝙳𝙾𝙽'𝚃 𝙻𝙰𝚄𝙶𝙷! 𝙸'𝙼 𝚂𝙴𝚁𝙸𝙾𝚄𝚂! ❞

𝐀𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐅𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐄𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐀 𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐇 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄 ; bloodshot eyes circumnavigating dark sockets. ( just when you thought all this might be interesting, ) [ ... ] ( bummer. )

with a haphazard shrug of broad shoulders, you scoff before bringing the lip of your swill back up to that strictly humourless mouth. an audible gulp follows. ❛ ────you want t'talk serious? .. fine. ❜

bleary grey eyes pierce through periphery to settle upon @spiderz0mbie, ❛ you can't seriously be fuckin' considering this. ❜