𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 / 𝐄𝐂𝐇𝐎

MUN && MUSE !

tagged by: i straight up stole this.

TAGGED BY:   i blatantly stole this. TAGGING:   anyone who wants it?

COLOURS:

001.   teal.

002.   maroon.

003.   soft blues.

004.   white & black.

SCENTS:

001.   lavender. 

002.   citrus.

003.   campfire smoke.

004.   floral.

CLOTHING:

001.   wrap around shirts & half dresses.

002.   form hugging pants.

003.   simple slip on shoes.

004.   black boots.

OBJECTS:

001.   a ribbon belonging to her adoptive mother.

002.   small knife in her hair, holds her hair up.

003.   bracelet her son made her.

004.   tampered hydrangea corsage.

VICES / BAD HABITS:

001.   reckless battle ; endangering her own life without reason.

002.   casual sex as a coping mechanism.

003.   putting her life on hold for others.

004.   picks fights just to feel something.

BODY LANGUAGE:

001.   chin high, eyes defiant.

002.   arms rarely not at her sides, readily by knives.

003.   rubs at nape of neck when stressed.

AESTHETICS:

001.   flowers braided into hair, ripped up dresses, chipped nail polish.

002.   bruised eyes, smeared mascara, bloodied lips, scarred cheeks.

003.   flower buds, crystals, yellowing parchment with letters from home.

004.   wine, bookcases, soot stained fingers, moonlight on bare skin.

SONGS or PIECES:

001.   battlefield - svrcina.

002.   warrior – beth crowley.

003.   a little wicked – valerie broussard.

004.   cherry bomb – the runaways.

some shit for @soukis

          Sometimes Gene genuinely wondered if life just lit a cigarette after it fucked him, because it damn sure seemed to enjoy the absolute shit out of fucking him six ways to Sunday without bothering to wine and dine him first.  Today’s rigorous fuck-over was courtesy of her jumping into the fray to save his ass all over again at literally the most inopportune time—inopportune because he’d been wallowing in his own frustration over the way his insides quivered whenever she threw her head back and laughed with reckless abandon, whenever he’d catch that dangerous curl to her lips or that gleam that danced across the slit pupils of her eyes—and she’d once again be able to hold it over his head that she’d saved his stupid skin once more.  She’s an asshole and she’s so fucking crass and sometimes he wants to strangle her because holy fuck she just won’t shut up, but at the same time Gene’s always been a sucker for tough women, women unafraid to strong-arm him into doing their bidding, women who wear their own self-confidence like armour against the world.

          It’s been three weeks and Gene Starwind is already head over heels in love with Kolete Soukis, and she must never know.

          He works his jaw and shifts to stand back up, reaching up with calloused fingers to rub at the bruise already swelling against the hard line of his jaw.  He doesn’t even fully know her story—shit, he doesn’t know what’s even going on half the time anyway, just that he’s unable to stop himself from trailing after her like a lovesick puppy and taking snipes at her just for the sake of his pipe dream that she might snap back and let him get a glimpse of the damn near addictive fire in her eyes.  Still, whatever’s out here in the freeze-your-dick-off wastelands of this god-forsaken “Coerthas” seems important enough to Kolete, and because he’s a goddamn fool who can’t seem to fight whatever spell-binding hold this witch has on him, that means it’s important to Gene too.  So, here he is—knee-deep in snow and staring at a goddamn cat girl  ( and ain’t that just a bitch, it’s always cat girls, it is, they’re cursed— )  with an expression that can only be described as self-loathing with a dose of longing for the sweet eternal embrace of death.

          ❛  It’s fucking cold.  ❜      Oh, yeah, good job there, Starwind—you, sir, are both a gentleman and a fucking scholar.  Hats off to you for such a riveting contribution to the situation at hand.  Nevermind that he’s just sort of tagged along despite her never fucking inviting him, but now in True Gene Starwind Fashion he’s decides that bitching is a sure-fire way to either get his way or to start a fight…  which, honestly, would still be getting his way, but that’s neither here nor there.      ❛  Like, I’m surprised your tits are still on cold              what the fuck are we even doing out here?  ❜

              ❝ Three weeks, eh Soukis? Must be a new record, even for you. ❞ She stares daggers at the male opposite of her and attempts to use hostility to cut away Thancred's oh so charming banter from her thoughts. It had been three weeks of this. Three weeks since he showed up into her life out of nowhere. Three weeks of him causing her nothing but trouble. Three weeks of not being able to feel this DAMN COLD on her skin because of the fire that HE ignited with like gunpowder in these kindled veins. And maybe, just maybe this is why she insisted on being the one that go out early enough to try to force the cold to nip at this naked, porcelain flesh. He has turned her into a FOREST FIRE in the middle of a blizzard. She does not regard this as natural, or even beautiful, but rather as the witch being burned after the trial. She has already let a man burn her at the stake and it will not happen again.

              But how could Kolete resist handing him the torch herself when she can’t help but fixate on how his entire being lights up at the mention of adventure ? He's INSUFFERABLE at best most days and her heart leaps out of her chest every time he offers to join her. His mouth was too big for his ego - or more horrifyingly - maybe it was the other way around. Still even as he sits here, glaring at the snow, the corpse of the beast at her feet, or even at her - Kolete can't help but find him charming.  A brow raises while a loud scoff escapes partially opened lips and when those tired eyes meet her bruised ones, her heart beats so loud in her head that it is all she can do not to confuse the noise with WARNING DRUMS. 

               It's in that exact moment that the Miqo'te realizes that when it comes to Gene Starwind she is completely and utterly FUCKED.

「☾」( @eredeha )

                   Heavy SLEEP DUSTED eyes remained lidded as she settled easily back against a familiar comfort. kolete found herself lost between rest and reality. It was rare for a warrior to ever truly find a GOOD NIGHT’S SLEEP, they were far too called upon for the SURVIVAL of the planet, which made ‘over sleeping ‘ quite the HASSLE. But as of late, she did find herself falling in and out of a REFRESHING slumber. Though, only one factor was different this time around.

               She counts each battle by the breaths she takes; with each of them the same, it was the only way she knew how to. ONE. TWO. THREE. Her knives slice through the air with ease until they make contact with the white and gold veined demon. SIN EATERS. That’s what she was told they were called when she arrived mere months ago. Ever since, they’re all she’s ever known. Kolete sidesteps to the side with little thought, avoiding the spray of crimson that comes from the dying creature. AZURE EYES fall to the sputtering body that still reaches to claw at her ankles with pure monstrous instinct and she steps back only a few inches. FOUR. FIVE. SIX. 

               While she is watching the life fade from this one, another slams into her side with an ear piercing screech. SEVEN. EIGHT. NINE. Teeth grit as metallic flowers bloom from her busted lip, gunpowder veins ignite like wildfire through this DRY ROT BODY and as she whirls around and slams her heel into what she could only assume was the face of the thing. Ripping her second blade from her waist, she brings them both down into the stomach of the beast. TEN. Her gaze does not leave her kill for several seconds as she wipes a fist across her lip, leaving a trail of crimson over ivory sculpted flesh.  ❝ Either they’re getting faster or i’m getting slower, ❞ she murmurs to herself mostly.