𝕒𝕓𝕖𝕪𝕒𝕟𝕔𝕖

 like      ,      he  hopes      ,      any  person  would  naturally      ,      he  looks  on  the  bruises  he  can  even  more  clearly  see  now  that  the  glow  of  the  streetlight  above  actually  marks  them  out      .      they  look  painful      ,      and  he  wonders  whether  she  got  those  by  accident  or  on  purpose      .      if  he  knew  how  many  circumstances  caused  people  to  bruise      ,      maybe  he’d  be  able  to  guess  better      .      he  doesn’t      :      he  doesn’t  bruise  under  normal  circumstances      .    

 he  decides  not  to  say  anything  at  all      .      his  eyes  are  smiling      ,      and  slowly      ,      he  approaches  the  two  of  them      ,      squatting  down  with  a  knee  on  the  ground  so  that  he  can  pet  marble      .                              ❝          perry  and  marble      .      it’s  nice  to  meet  you      .      nice  to  meet  you      ,      marble  dog      .          ❞                        his  voice  is  directed  at  the  dog  at  first      ,      before  he  finally  looks  up  toward  perry      .      his  gaze  flickers  to  the  bruises  again  before  redirecting  back  to  her  eyes      ,      where  they’re  supposed  to  be      .                    ❝          and  nice  to  meet  you  too      ,      perry      .      my  name’s  arthur      .      and  i  guarantee  my  clothes  are  usually  wet  anyways      .          ❞

     "     𝐚𝐝𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐝𝐥𝐲 𝐢'𝐯𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠 .     “     he glimpses her , it’s the way she looks at him that prompts his follow up .     “     i mean that ain’t no bad thing i know , but it still feels like i’m . i dunno . stepping farther away from something that should be important .     “ 

@oubliela​ // generated starter

          Late night strolls in cities he isn’t very familiar with tends to be a tradition with Jules and Sully. He has a flashlight, and a camera for shots of parks, cities, streets under the darkness of night. Nighttime shots aren’t something that Jules excels at, even after all these years, and he takes the chance to improve whenever he can, and now is no different. He’s talking to Sully, who is a few feet away, barking at some birds or squirrels, about a few of the pictures he’s gotten so far as he peeks through the pictures on his camera. But then Sully’s barking more loudly, and running down the path, so Jules has to go and catch up with the excited dog. “Sorry ‘bout him,” he says, giving a shake of his head as he finally catches up to Sully, who stopped a few feet away from a woman and her dog. “Gets excited about potential friends.” He realizes his flashlight is in her face, and he drops it toward the ground after a moment.

          Honestly, this trip to the park has mainly been Jack chasing Mila around while she causes trouble, despite his best efforts. It’s just one of those days when the dog is incredibly hyper and excited over essentially everything, and is two seconds away from jumping into Jack’s arms at any given moment. It sure is something— especially when Mila darts away for a ball that Jack certainly didn’t throw. “Hey!” he calls, and jogs after her. “Put that down!” She just stares at him, tail wagging even harder.

fighting for most of his life has meant that this? this is easy. this is just routine. he runs and he fights and surviving is what he does best. and should the day come where his luck runs out, then he’ll accept death with grace. so long as he doesn’t turn into one of those fuckin’ things, of course. he’d rather not become part of the problem that plagues the world as it is. this personality of his, however, can be off-putting enough, and though the reluctance to work together exists, there’s not much he can do but do what he can. and what he can do? it’s fighting.

“ there’s a risk either way, ”  he responds.  “ preferably would like to pick them off quietly this time. you know— less of a mess and all that, yes? ”  over the years, he’s found that doing things quietly benefits them the most, unless going loud is part of a plan. of course, it doesn’t always work out that way.  “ let’s try goin’ around first. might do your leg well to take it a bit slow here, wouldn’t it? ”

𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐈𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓. It’s not just him, most of the time she’d make her own retort. But she’s in pain and they’re in the thick of it right now. “That was not my fault, Connor,” she says tartly. It hadn’t been. The structural integrity of the last building they were clearing had failed and a heavy armoire had crashed through the floor. Surefooted-ness couldn’t always help them, because the Runners certainly weren’t practicing that kind of self restraint. 

@oubliela​   :   PERION   :   starter call

❝  this plan of yours is going to get us killed.  ❞   she says it as plainly as one might read off an entree from a menu.  tracy sighs.   ❝  of course i’m in.  ❞