#cbitus

ᵗᵉˣᵗˢ ᵗᵒ bach , amelia VIVALDI . ( @cbitus )

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@cbitus || inbox meme reply || it IS time!

stick to your statement and you'll be fine.

features screw up in a look of disbelief and disgust. maybe at the so called script. maybe at being told what to do. hell could be that someone farted in his general direction and supe sense are both a blessing a curse depending on the when, where, why. how and what the fuck did you have to eat cause you should never eat that shit again.

hands grip the piece of paper tigher. tighter. til it crumples into a wadded mess clutched in a partially gloved fist. shaking his head, he throws the shit in the trash before starting to make his way towards the table he picked it up from.

"nah. no thanks, toots. i don't pull that scripted shit anymore. if my son doesn't like what the fuck comes out of my mouth? he can go fuck himself." then under his breath, a growl of a grumble. "no one else is lining up to do it. that's for damn sure." picking up the whiskey glass and bringing it to his lips--the solider swallows half the contents before he turns his attention back to amelia, briefly pausing to look her up and down. head cants. almost comically. if it weren't for the pointed stare he's fixated directly upon her.

Not for the weak hearted | @cbitus ( HATE-FUCK)

"Fuckin' lawyers," Butcher spat as he found one of Vought's finest blood suckers. "I don' think there's anythin' more cunty than another 'uman bein' who decides to 'elp the freakshow supes outta the shit storms they get themselves into. Killin' innocent people on the street, not to worry love," he pinched his thumb and forefinger together and rubbed them, "enough dosh an' all that grief an' pain will just disappear."

He was coming in strong but that had always been Butcher's way, if he wasn't swinging the crowbar then he slung around his thoughts just as effectively on anyone who was within ear shot. It seemed that this time Amelia had just been unlucky in encountering him while out and about in the city. He might have been there for a myriad of other reasons, stood in his slowly tattering trench coat, boots with old blood stains and cut up knuckles looking as thugish as humanly possible.

@cbitus . wild padawan is sent to guard Amelia

It was Fish's first solo assignment, which would have been far more exciting if it didn't involve being a glorified babysitter. And sure, she knew that Jedis often offered security services when needed, usually to Senators or Representatives. And in these troubled times, knowledge could be a weapon as deadly as a blaster, which made the Bach archives an easy target for the Separatists. She knew that. But she would have preferred being on the front, fighting alongside her Master.

Frustration, of course, was not an emotion Jedis were supposed to feel. She could almost hear Master Obi Wan lecturing her about it. Fish was only a Padawan, though, and it was a familiar feeling for her. So many things frustrated and annoyed her! Still, she made an effort to look as composed as possible when she approached Lady Bach.

@cbitus . Amelia goes through a whole lot of trouble to meet the Worst Possible Man (not a man)

The room was covered in blood, though the Horned One noticed that it had all been done very neatly -a tarp protected the nice, wooden floorboards. He whistled appreciatively. He had appeared with no fuss and no smoke, and stood as if He had always been there. Nonchalant. But his aura was suffocating, filling up the room like a thick cloud -unescapable, coating the mouth with each breath.

With the tip of his foot, he nudged the dead body on the floor. He seemed interested for a split second, and then bored again. "Slit throat," He commented, "you have done your homework, little Rosa. 13 men, 13 months... you sure went to a lot of trouble to see me." He shook his head. "So much blood, so much death. So much despair. I'm flattered."

mindless no longer, he thought while his gaze lifted to the winged mountain, proud and strong - and unrivalled.

amelia would be lead to the newborn head of the sacred twenty eight ( by an old wizard who could not hide the sour expression on his face as he approached ) not inside the mansion; more often than not the young lord would be found outside, in a garden of ash and bone, no rows of carefully planted hedges and flowerbeds; no statues of marble and polished stone. where the dry grass turnt ash grey, where the stench of sulfur and gore became overwhelming, this was nagini's queendom. not even the obnoxiously luxurious house could fully obscure the winged mountain.

and while the emerald she-beast hissed and shifted, not yet entirely used to the presence of other humans, slytherin's heir remained pressed against the sharp scaled snout for a moment or two longer.

❝ you came. ❞ a sallow ghost of a smile touches handsome features. the invitation of their lord was not one easily declined without dire consequences, still rhaegar was joyful as if nothing had changed since their graduation last week. ❝ i hope my passionate discourses with professor baxton make more sense now. ❞ the gargantuan dragon's head followed her rider as he stepped forward, and a pale hand find it's place tracing her snout. ❝ i suppose i owe you a lot of answers. ❞

the break timer sings as the room spins into motion. stylists swarm him to take the jacket & offer a robe against bare skin in its place. his face sighs into a neutral, relaxed state before he catches amelia waiting far from the group. a smirk breaks through as he joins @cbitus at craft services.

i hate you for this.

his cheekbones are flushed from smiling & changing expressions for the morning, but laughter behinds a plate of mini quiches. "for this? i gotta make things more interesting!" hearing the bothered click of her heels was worth agreeing to an early day.

"this is the only time i have in the day for a meeting. i told you, it's here or the after party." he pops another appetizer in his mouth with a wink. between between self-important photoshoots & redundant interviews, there were honest conversations he couldn't keep at bay forever.