#crrypt

Truth for 10 asks || accepting (1/10)

“We’re still discussing, we ‘aven’t settled on one just yet. 

why don't YOU do as i say so i can show you a good time

"it was really easy to get away with murder before they knew about DNA. "

“So I’ve heard. Though that was definitely before our time. We might be old fuckers, but hardly that old.”

Gabriel throws his double a glance, cheeky and arrogant, as he nudges the corpse at his feet with a boot. It rolls over with a dull, dusty sound, exposing the expression frozen in wide-jawed, glassy horror, cheeks hollow and gaze even more so. 

A husk. Which, Gabriel supposes, is its own kind of evidence--

it’s just that he doesn’t particularly give a damn.

[ SMS : 23:07 ] Plus I suppose I kinda miss you too

Send me ♥ to kiss Moira.

              WHILE NOT OUT OF THE ORDINARY, MOIRA O’DEORAIN did not typically leave the recesses of her own mind these days, let alone her adoptive home. She awaits boarding of the little drop-ship they were to take to their assignment. It wouldn’t be for another thirty minutes, but as always, she is ahead of schedule, regal and monolithic as she awaits both Reaper’s preparation as well as the go ahead to take off from their pilots. The amount of equipment she carries is deceptively sleek in appearance, but in reality, it weighs her down considerably. It’s a small price to pay for an extension of her influence, but it’s a worthwhile investment, considering it’ll be just the two of them tonight.

When Gabriel does make his presence known, it’s by standing almost directly behind her; were it not for the massive tank jutting out, he’d probably have stood behind her proper-- and who knows what else. Shaking the thoughts from her head, she’s roused back into awareness by the claws that catch on the edges of her uniform, bidding her... Away from their destination. 

             She murmurs something indistinguishable at the back of her throat, but her eyes still sparkle with the same dangerous curiosity they always did as she slowly turns to follow, not even so much of a glance spared backward towards where they’re supposed to be as she allows herself to be herded somewhere notably more discreet. A side lounge for the standard employees, surely, but thankfully, barren, as Gabriel shuts the door behind himself once the two  of them are alone. There are no words for him to exchange-- but he doesn’t have to. All it takes to bridge the gap is for him to remove that owlish mask, a mixture of both genuine surprise and wonder sprawling across her own taut features, thin lips pulled into a pleased smile. The distance between them is closed within a few slow strides of her long legs as she approaches him, taking the man into her arms so lovingly one could have mistaken this whole ordeal to be normal for the two of them. In reality, she acts as she is bidden-- both by Gabriel, and by her own intention-- as she manipulates herself around him. She cups his face, off-colored hues  taking it all in in excruciating detail before she even dares to press her lips to his-- though when she does, she’s surprised to find that her lip concealer leave the faintest of pale marks against his much deeper complexion, albeit pleasantly so.

Perhaps she’d have to start wearing lipstick again for this exclusive purpose.

                 ... Among other things that it could be left upon.

“... We’re going to be late, you know...“ She rasps against his lips despite how Reaper presses his own so insistently against her own, even going so far as to slip her that damn tongue and making it near impossible for her to want to pull herself away. Inevitably, eventually, she must, and parts from him only enough to get a cleaner breath of air-- one that doesn’t feel so polluted with the wisps and coils of mist that occasionally leave him.