#goldstandrd

intimate starters. | @goldstandrd 

  “Oh? Couldn’t get me out of your head, could you?”

  Anita’s voice drops a little lower, a little quieter when Loba places her hand on her arm. Under the moon and the stars, they have a moment alone, away from prying eyes and eavesdropping minds. The chaos of it all doesn’t leave them room for much else. 

  The flirting’s always been obvious enough - it’s Loba’s thing, though admittedly, the passing banter has often left Anita wanting more, but never quite getting a chance to act. Even in the low light, whiskey eyes find honey. Something tempting, something dangerous remains lying in wait.

   Act now or forever hold your peace, ‘Nita.

  Boldly, she stands impossibly closer, without yet touching before raising a single hand that takes Loba by the chin, with the pad of her thumb just grazing her lower lip. She’s all nerves before she speaks - weak in the knees and all. 

「 shadow and bone starters | accepting 」

first time. | @goldstandrd

  “Didn’t wanna overstep.”

“ i’m NOT shouting, i just-- how could you have MISSED him, hermana?! he’s almost as big as caustic, and-- “

octane cuts himself off, then groans as he tosses his arms up into the air-- as far as he could, anyways, because his left arm was in a sling around his neck, and as soon as he lifted it too far, pain zapped throughout the daredevil’s entire body and he immediately curled into himself again.

he would’ve loved to blame it all on loba, that they didn’t nail their initial landing and only ended up with terrible guns with too little ammunition and DIED the second they’ve encountered another squad-- but even octavio knew that the apex games could be only won with a team effort, and this time it simply didn’t work out for them. it HAPPENS. then why was he so mad?

he wouldn’t say he cared a lot about loba-- that was a harsh statement, but pretty close to the truth. they weren’t as close as ajay and him were, for example, they got along well enough ( to everyone’s surprise ). but maybe, just maybe it pissed him off that it was REVENANT who finished them off. octane preferred to stay out of other people’s quarrels and preferred to stay in his lane, and yet it was a thorn in his side to think that loba couldn’t defend herself against HIM for one reason or another.

either way, they were back at the dropship and left to WAIT.

after taking a deep breath, octane pulled his mask out of his face as if that’d help him seem a little more approachable, but the goggles were usually the part of his gear hiding most of his emotions, making him come off a lot colder than he really was. but he didn’t even think about taking them off.

twiddling his thumbs, octane pulled up his shoulders with his gaze averted; he tried to pull off the innocent little octane facade again.

" well, YEAH, because i PROMISE i didn't eat your lunch, hermana. i woud never just take your stuff! "

swaying around on his feet, his head tipped to the side as he pushed out his bottom lip a little bit, brows furrowing as he gave loba the biggest puppy eyes he could manage. if it weren't for the crumbs stuck on his face around his mouth, he might be able to pull off a convincing performance.

    it’s rare, having the paradise lounge be slow. quiet. 

    elliott wipes down the rest of the glass, tossing a towel over his shoulder as he sets it in the sink. it’s nice, a movement through the motions while soft music plays over head, the dim lights fluttering and flicking as a warm yellow undertone flows over the counters.

     maybe he should try and change up the lighting. the yellow lighting is his thing, and with syndicate’s marketing... yeah, maybe sticking to yellow is a good idea if he wants to keep up the popularity by falling back on his fame in the games. not that it’s the only thing that keeps people coming to the lounge, but... it’s pretty far up there. everyone stops on by for a chance of catching a legend or two.

    as the door opens, an programmed mirage voice plays overhead, a confident ‘ welcome to paradise! lounge. it’s in the name. ‘ alerting him of someone’s entrance. and elliott’s surprised to set his eyes on loba, shoulders seeming tighter than normal. 

blood and bruises.

   he huffs a breath through his nose, but it’s sharp, short, dry - causes a bolt of pain to strike through his ribcage. his hand skirts across the bandage there because ouch, yeah, still hurts. that’s what happens when someone gets a peacekeeper shot right into your ribs - mirage is good, but he’s not good enough to be able to walk after that.

   he lets out a grunt as his head falls back, using the back of the wall to prop himself up. despite the burgundy starting to stain into the vibrant yellow of his suit, he shoots loba a shaky smile around a busted lip, only for it to fall moments later as he hisses.