✧ 𝑴𝑰𝑺𝑺𝑨𝑳𝑳𝑨𝑵𝑬𝑨

{ MISSALLANEA. 1. a collection of unrelated items, objects, or writings. 2. an over-caffeinated theatre kid. 3. three possums in a trench coat. 4. a writer of insufferable prose. 5. the patron saint of no impulse control. forever adding more muses from obscure sources. 18+. as adored by missa. }

ai writes (aka they’re mimicking) like humans. not the other way around.

✦ lovesick ✦

❥ @missallanea asked: “Would it really kill you if we kissed?“ / fox @ elisa, idek if she's serious or just wants to make her squirm

  …Is she serious? It wasn't as if they were friends, or even acquaintances, let alone at each other's throats, by her own cause or by her husbands. Elisa fixed the other woman with a judging look, trying to gauge whatever her plan was, ❝…Aren't you a married woman?❞ She asks, her arms crossing over her chest, ❝And a mother?❞

  She hadn't thought about really kissing anyone else other than Goliath, so why would she consider kissing Fox?

  ❝It wouldn't kill me. I just never thought about it.❞ Her arms cross over her chest, assessing the woman and her possible motives, ❝…What's this about, Fox?❞

❝ And what would my being a mother have to do with anything? ❞ Amusement curves at red-painted lips, the expression giving no obvious tells about her intention one way or the other. ❝ Don't tell me your idea of motherhood involves resigning yourself to a life of chastity, Detective Maza. ❞

Clearly, the little game she's playing at isn't going over well with the other woman, and Fox offers a half-hearted shrug in response.

❝ You sound like I have to have some ulterior motive. Isn't it possible for a woman to just want to show her appreciation for New York's Finest? ❞ Ha! It sounded ridiculous, even to her own ears.

Judging by her mannerisms alone, Caden was picking up on the fact that she did not appear to be one of the normal Na'vi, if even that... she didn't seem like she was one of the ones he was supposed to be searching for in the first place. His eyes kept trained on her, watching every move, listening to every word she spoke, and as he watched, he couldn't help but wonder if this was someone who had come across quite a few soldiers so far that had acted the same way to her.

It wouldn't surprise him, especially when there were so many humans on the planet who were trying to hunt down rogue Na'vi, so... maybe her being chill with a gun in her face was not as odd an experience anymore. Especially when he was clearly shorter than she was in this situation. That didn't make him feel too confident himself it it came to a fight, but...

He liked to think he had some sort of small advantage in being a bit more nimble than the Na'vi. Maybe he wouldn't be, he couldn't say for sure. But... at the same time, he didn't really want to find out right away, or at least not right now.

His weapon lowered slightly as his eyes glanced over to the identification badge she held out, and he gave a small grumble. Not one of anger that she was one he couldn't go after, but more so that the RDA did not make it clear that the allies they were working with had identification. Which made it seem like his job was almost not worth it, in a way. Although the payment still was good...

❝Woulda' been nice if the RDA had made it clear that some of ya' were at least wearin' identification,❞ he huffed softly as he dropped the weapon completely and slung it over his back. He said nothing for a moment as he yanked a piece of tech off his belt and began messing with something, grumbling a bit again and trying to sort out the issue of... whatever it was. He gave it a good few whacks before he glanced up to her.

❝I am a dog, or at least something similar to that,❞ he huffed quietly in a language she would likely understand better, being the Na'vi language, thanks to his translator... working again. Sometimes all it took was a few good hits to get the tech he got working...

❝But I would not say I am a damn pet,❞ he snarls as he clips the translator back to his side, crossing his arms over his chest and looking up to her, ❝Apologies for the hostilities, regardless. RDA wasn't exactly the most descriptive about some of ya' having those badges... I'm supposed to be huntin' down.. I guess people from a tribe that looks similar to ya' that didn't want to partner with the RDA.❞

He sighed and looked from her to the surrounding environment, taking it in for a moment and scanning his surroundings... just in case.

Yellow eyes watched with an intensity, curiosity that the Na'vi woman could not be bothered to hide as she watched him toy with whatever device he had pulled from his hip, and slowly, she lowered herself to a crouch to gain a better vantage with which to watch. Observing, as she often did when it came to the belongings of Sky People, with the intention to learn. To understand.

It was the job of tsahìk, to understand Pandora and all of her whims. The Sky People were a part of this world now, whether the rest of the People wished it or not... so she watched, and she learned.

His language shifted, Varang's gaze flicking from the device to his mouth and back once before tilting her head. Slowly, a sharp smile began to take shape.

❝ Sky People warriors, you all say this. That you are not dogs... but you bark like one. You bite. You follow orders. ❞ A hand is waved, dismissive of her own statement, as though she's said her piece and now expected nothing more from the conversation.

Not that such tricks worked on outsiders.

THE LAST THING that Michael is in the mood to handle is another one of his siblings' problems. He shoots her a look, brow arched in clear annoyance— despite the fact that he groans about it, eyes rolling, he shrugs off his headphones anyway, turning his attention to the pieces clutched in little hands.

"How'd you even manage to break that thing off? Isn't it supposed to just-" Vague hand gesture. "-stand there and spin?"

Yes, if she'd simply left the jewelry box sitting on her dresser the way she was supposed to, the ballerina likely wouldn't have broken. However, when one took a heavy box and decided to spin around one's room with it... mistakes were bound to happen.

It wasn't her fault the little dancer was so delicate.

The Collector beamed, his eyes sparkling with wild delight as he spun in a lazy loop through the air. “Well, I’m the Collector!” he announced, clapping his hands together once with a sharp pop. “I was flying way up high, and then boom! I crashed right into this forest!” He tilted his head, blinking at the trees around him while he floated a little higher, boots kicking playfully. “Where am I, anyway?”

He giggled, the sound bright and sudden, like glass chimes in a storm. “This place looks super fun! Or maybe super weird. Either way, new game!”

Her gaze watches cautiously as he floated, not so dissimilar to another lost boy, seemingly entirely unconcerned at being lost.