#heroesstart

“ Don’t make me turn this place into a world war two recreation,” she spat. “ I’ll make sure the nightmare has you dying.”

📱open text: fleur ➡ anyone

“I can’t believe the interns are actually running a gossip blog about us. Please tell me I’m not the only one who has a problem with this?”

“do i acknowledge that being able to alter my voice to sound like anything in the world can be entertaining? yes; fine, sure. but is that invitation to keep asking me to do sir ian mckellan impressions? no, not really.”

A grimace broke across the brunette’s face as she peered into the leisure room. There lay her many acquaintances, this being the word she used when she was feeling particularly nice. In this very room is where they were to create bonds and ease the pain of training and missions--she called bullshit. Blake had found it almost impossible to unwind in a room full of people she hadn’t trusted. It was a room of “heroes”, but she couldn’t trust anything created by the hands of man. They were freaks;meant to work, breathe, and  live at the command of others. 

“i’m not saying that everything french is better, but — oh wait, no i definitely am. america is barely on the scale, let alone anywhere close to france. what do you have? pizza? please.” fleur scoffed, a slender hand adjusting the silver necklace around her neck. “this isn’t even a contest.”