#burntchild

Helga resisted the urge to roll her eyes, and instead chose to flip the page of her book. There was a test coming up for Garden, and she had no intention of failing it. Failing a test, at her age? That’s just embarrassing.

“Look, downtime is a good thing,” she tried to reason. “Gives you time to rest for the next thing. Can’t drive on an empty tank, or whatever trite phrase you want to use.” She was one to talk; how many times had she worn herself into the ground, if not for work, for the want of it? Part of her wanted to suggest he pick up a hobby.

The part of her that knew better didn’t.

@burntchild

"It's dangerous, you know."

Astrid was exceptional at saying that---it was almost a given, of course, being an assassin---it usually came out as an excuse. She spent long stretches of time away from people, fearing the next name on her list would be his.

And if it were, she wouldn't know what to do. How would she? Even after she began working, to some extent, independently---it drove her further from him, then closer, and then further again.

She was good at disappearing and resurfacing. Like a cicada, she knew when to show her face again to the world.

"I'm up north, where the reactors are. There will be two shacks; one smaller and a larger one covered in old flyers. The larger one is a bunker, no service, so I'll have to buzz you in unless you knock hard enough."

She wasn't sure how it would be once she got out.

She'd been laying low for months following a much larger assignment gone awry. Although she was successful, she wasn't satisfied with how terrible it turned out.

And she had months to obsess over it.

It felt longer.

@burntchild​ asked:  “The world used to be a bigger place.”

Hyperion is soaked in gore, and so is Seifer Almasy, breathing hard from the exertion of a worthwhile fight. This place is unfamiliar, has tried to kill him in the first thirty seconds, and he's okay with that, but damn, he'd like a moment of rest. He wipes the blade mostly clean, and undoes all the work a heartbeat later when something big and toothy tries to take his head off. An unclean slice, a firaga-level spell exploding out of his palm, and that takes care of that.

It was supposed to be a routine run-- but then, nothing about daemons is routine, even when it's just goblins. Goblins tend to come in packs, and sometimes those packs have a boss that's much worse--

And whatever it had been, its gone too quickly for Tredd to even start to identify it, leaving only an unfamiliar blond with a sword and a scar behind.

@burntchild​ asked:

frost: icing a bruise

‘i love you’ prompts

Freak accidents were bound to happen in construction zones, but what Selphie had not banked on was Seifer pushing her out of the way of some falling supplies and getting banged up in her stead. He was still fine and in one piece, surprising absolutely no one, but the bruises starting to darken along his skin, and she’d finally decided to take matters into her own hands without pausing to listen to any of his refusals, should he voice them.

“Hold still, would you?” She says, gently taking his arm with one hand and lightly pressing the washcloth-wrapped bag of ice to one of the nastier marks with the other, her eyes flicking up at him to make sure it’s not too cold. “You didn’t have to knock me out of the way, y’know. I’m not nearly invincible like you are, but I can take some falling debris without too much damage.”

She softens after she speaks, angling her head up to look at him properly and give him a small smile. It’s nothing life-threatening, so there might not be much to worry about, but she doesn’t want to leave Seifer thinking she’s not appreciative of the gesture anyway.

Drinks with Caim [meme] :: Accepting

【He’d hated taverns and, despite the calmer air within the one he’d found himself in at present, he felt no differently. Perhaps because he was not entirely there by his own whims. It had taken Caim a while to adopt to this strange world, the air cleaner from the lack of conflict’s crimson debris. There were hints of it within this odd city his new companion had taken him and that alone was a comfort.

@burntchild​ asked: “you used to be a wild animal, now you’re just… soft. ineffective. comfortable. weak.”

Many things had changed since they had last talked to one another. Major changes had occurred and Fang decided to focus on the last few swings to her practicing with a heavily weighed bo staff. It made her concentrate on keeping what skills remained quite active. Spinning it in hand, muscles strained and new tattoo showed off before the weapon came to rest at ease in her right hand.

She panted a bit feeling a little more winded than she would have liked to admit to anyone. A lot had changed for her the last few months. People would notice she started to ramp up working out more and making other changes to her life. Changes that wouldn't seem like a big deal to anyone but if they glanced closer beneath the surface, they'd see it for what it was.

His remark made her lean upon the weapon and close her eyes for a brief bit of time. She didn't want to come out snarling to the world as that would serve no one. It stung to hear as she had once been quite the live wire with reckless abandon but that was back when Ragnarok thrummed within her bones. The demon in flesh had given her immortality up until the day Etro heard her pleas and her bargain.

"I'm working on not being weak." she remarked quickly shifting her weight to lift the bo staff and make a swing toward him. She stopped the end of the weapon at his throat while eyes narrowed for a moment to match his gaze. Green eyes no longer held the sparks of fire they once held. A notable difference from the Fang Seifer had last seen.

"I don't have Ragnarok any longer. I'm fully mortal again."