ᵗᵒᵖ ᶜᶫᵃˢˢ ᵇʳᵉᵉᵈᶦᶰᵍ⋅

i am crUS HE D

but why

                                never did she imagine there would come a day when she would be able to see a corpse without her stomach churning & twisting into a MILLION knots. now she’s learned to muffle her ears to the sounds of screams, become deaf to the cries of the dying. ( sometimes, unexpectedly, she’ll hear them ECHOING in his head which shocks her all over again. ) gotham had its fair share of scum & this object of J’s latest torture had been bottom-barrel, at best. she could bring herself to feel an ounce of sympathy for the guy who would have promptly knifed her if she hadn’t had her sadistic protector. he’d wrenched MORE than one apology out of the man --- patience indeed.         ❝clearly NOT him.❞       her response is a mix of exasperation & disbelief. it’s still unnerving how fatally effective he was. her hand stretches out, closing gently over his arm & hoping against hope he’s not thinking of making this another one of his famous life lessons.         ❝------ can we get out of here? now?❞       she’ll think of a million ways to THANK HIM later if he’ll spare her being in the dead man’s presence any longer.

like this for a starter!! ( mutuals only, pls & thank. ) xoxo.

                               most men have a certain dime-a-dozen luster to them that over time, emma has learned to TUNE OUT  --- like muting a talk show on the radio. it’s simple. as per her brand new approach on life & the philosophy of, the renowned mind-reader puts the world on MUTE, not to tap into someone’s psyche without just reason. a strange man without formal invitation turning up at the mutant community’s worst-kept secret hiding place certainly raised a perfectly groomed eyebrow. unlike most men, she didn’t sense an average DRONE in him ---- which was probably the most INTRIGUING thing about the encounter thus far. he seemed empty, in a sense. hollowed out. emma leans against the broad double doors, arms folded over her chest. neither welcoming him in ---- especially not with all the young & innocent running about ---- or chasing him away.        ❝------- sorry, wrong house.❞       a little white lie slips from her tongue but only a FOOL would point a guy like this in the direction of a guy like logan.        ❝ if i see him, i can tell him you stopped by. what’s your name? i assume it doesn’t start with ‘looking for trouble.’ ❞

if you’re interested, pls come shout at me ( IM is always open, skype by request )!!

                                         and these are my vices: impatience, bad temper, wine,                                          the more than occasional cigarette,                                          an almost unquenchable thirst to be kissed.                                          a hunger that isn’t hunger but something like fear.

                               a hand shoots up as if to protect herself from such vile words.        ❝please, spare me the image of YOU having sex. i may not be able to see them in this form but the power of suggestion is very STRONG, okay?❞       the bite is harmless, of course, she means almost nothing by the words. her skin glistens iridescently when the light catches it & so it does as she moves to place her hands on her hips.        ❝------ any more INHUMANE farming tools you care to test out?❞