#amischiefofmuses

Hyacinthus hums lazily through closed lips, begging a smile as dark eyes don’t quite meet the other’s golden hues in lieu of letting them roam his figure instead. Appreciating the view where Apollo stands over him on the grass as he leans back on his hands.

“Did we~?” he teases playfully. Never once has he seen Apollo angry with him, even when he plays fickle like this. There’s some good humor to their companionship and Hyacinthus delighted in it. Because he likes to tease Apollo. Likes to see if he can furrow that golden brow only to kiss it smooth a moment later.

The Axis of Time shatters under the combined pressure of all the psychics Apocalypse abducted, restoring the reality he used them to destroy and scattering them back into it.

Mostly.

Rachel couldn't have held back, refused to back up Xavier, let Apocalypse destroy the universe so he could rule a new one—but neither does she want to go back to what she left. Perhaps that's why she flies out only into void, a darkness that is everywhere and nowhere and nothing. She looks around and for half a heartbeat sees the timestream from outside, a brilliant skein of color so bright and chaotic it stabs at her eyes.

Send "Kiss or Skip!" and a character's name to see if my muse would kiss them or not.

Huh. That's a bit out of left field-- Khonshu doesn't recall a particularly strong association with Dionysus. Osiris was far more strongly associated, as a matter of fact, which was funny to look back on given their reputations now, if not then. The god of drink, theater, ecstasy and madness, paired with the 'Lord of Silence' who clung to his bureaucracy and rules with the same grim precision that he judged the dead. Reputations aside, they made the same choices in the end, as far as Khonshu was aware-- Osiris fled to the Overvoid, and the Greeks to Omnipotence City. They could be equals in earning Khonshu's ire.

... Perhaps just side-eye, for Dionysus. Khonshu didn't have any personal reasons to hate him.

Anger. Hatred. Disgust was all he felt staring down his clone. His eyes twitched with rage that didn't seem to subside. His fingers coiling into a tight ball that made the Armour Crack and bend from his undying anger towards Nathan Summers.

"Stab your eyes, Nathan Summers.." he spat. His eyes glaring a hole through him as various debris around him started to float from his power that exceeded his physical body." You..dare show your face here?"

His eyes glows. A Shockwave of force pushing Cable back by a few feet as Stryfe started to walk towards him. Only the power of that force seemed to grow exponentially the closer he got to his 'clone'. "Though I suppose I should thank you..save me the work of having to find you myself." He mutters with a slight amused grin. His fingers flexing as he backs Cable into a wall pinning him down." Tell me Nathan. Are you ready to die?"

When the utterly adorable shark moves to his haunches and reaches up, so eager to have those hands give him a few good scritches, Steven cannot stop himself from cooing out a happy noise - absolutely charmed by this creature, the way it's so excited and happy just to have someone pet him---

"---Oh, look at you!" Just as excited, crouching in front of the little fella by now, Steven begins to rub his palms all over the shark's head - curling his fingers in a bit to offer some soft scratches, fingernails blunt enough to not accidentally hurt his friend here. "Gosh, you're--- you're so adorable! I-I think your name is Jeff, right? I've heard about you! Didn't think I'd ever meet you, really, but---"

This - getting to pet a land shark - is certainly already making the whole of their US trip so bloody worth it to Steven, who's usually just along for the ride; Marc and Jake get shit done, Steven sometimes helps out or ... exists to explore. Yeah, such things.

"Do you want a snack, little one? I, uh... I got a sandwich on me I couldn't finish earlier! It's vegan, though... ---But I could buy you something else if you like?!"

Marc sighs, rolls his eyes, takes in the sight of the scene playing out in front of him - watches from the reflection of a nearby store window, arms folded in front of his chest.

“i want you to try and relax. i'm not going to hurt you.” [Cable] [x]

not good. not good.

taro took a step back, eyes flicking around rapidly, everything could be a threat right now. everyone, if they weren't careful. words gave little assurance in combination with what they were seeing. what was he? rings of their eyes constricting as they stared through different spectrums, settling on x-ray.

On first glance, she nearly didn't see him there behind the desk - an unusual oversight that she might reflect on later, but for now brushes off. This is hardly a place for danger, after all.

Probably. Hopefully. Unless one of the pieces on display turns out to be a whole lot more than the owners realise it is. That's always a small possibility (not so small for her as it might be for someone else), but her plan is to just have a good time studying some artifacts that are even older than she is, slip a contribution in the 'thank you' box and go her merry way.

And, it seems, have a chat with a presumed kindred spirit. "Oh yes," A chuckle, lips pulling down in a grimace, "it's bloody awful out there! Oh, uh ..." She gives a quick glance back toward the doors, "I left my umbrella in the front hall, I hope that's OK?" Better than letting it trail water all the way into the exhibition room, at least. The rain had looked like it might stop just before she'd left home, but had only been pausing for breath.