#huntloyalty

      ❝    i’m too old to start again.  ❞

Bridgette doesn’t check her phone often, and it’s a couple hours before she actually sees the photo. When she does, she hums to herself, considering, before responding back.

                    BUDDY SITS AT THE METAL TABLE, a rather bored look etched across the half of her features that can be seen.   “ really, darling. the idea i’d taken something ? and where would i hide such things ? ”     she’s dressed to the nines, tight black dress and hair neatly combed and pinned across the scarred half of her face, the rest of the aurinko’s may suggest it was date night, and they wouldn’t be entirely wrong.  haunted artifacts are her specialty, and sure they probably should have been a bit more careful when stealing from living people. there is an air around her, one that may suggest she doesn’t particularly care that she’s been caught. ( vespa had managed an escape with the score ) not to mention at the end of the night the worst she’d done was trespass on private property, and jet would come get her eventually. so all she has to do, is sit across from the detective and wait.

@huntloyalty​ sent   misc prompts for your feels

“ we know we're not the people you want, but we're here. ” (Nikola from both Jimmy and Alex, my own little Stranger weirdos)

She looks down at the two people - could anyone touched by the I Do Not Know You really be termed people any more? - before her, plastic features unmoving yet somehow full of...almost warmth. Not the usual brightly malicious aura Nikola usually exudes, but something that could nearly be called tenderness.

     sasha      looks      up,                     a    grimace    fighting    through    the    sweat    on    her    brow    as    she    looks    at    daisy.           ❛           you    know,    that’s      not      as    comforting    as    you    think    it    would    be.      especially      coming    from    you.           ❜

the magnus institute. in his years, he’d heard the term thrown about now and again, a stronghold for the eye that hardly held much interest to him. at least, that was until it crossed the threshold of its home and put a bullet into his temple  — then, of course, interest was given only for lack of better term. 

it was emptier than he’d anticipated, footsteps echoing quietly in marble halls, doors swinging gently shut in a displaced breeze as he passed them without regard. he could feel invisible eyes upon him from every scrutinizing angle, from self-important portraits, from the tiles of the floor, from the very air of the place itself. he’d made no effort to hide himself to begin with, hardly had need to, even gone so far as to make an appointment. ... actually, perhaps that explained the disquieting lack of staff after all. 

well. no matter. he wasn’t here for most of them, anyway.  they doubtlessly knew it. that was fine. he could wait.

for the time being, mike found himself doing so in what seemed to be some form of staff lounge, hardly wasting time in making himself comfortable. maybe not his place, admittedly, but it wasn’t as if anyone but the secretary had gone through the effort to welcome him in the first place. by the time the door creaked in announcement of a second presence, the worn communal kettle had nearly finished boiling, and he made no effort to look up. the stench of the hunt, the bloodlust, was not easily mistaken. 

“ ah. daisy ... tonner, wasn’t it? ” the lilt of his tone remained pleasant, no biting undertone of malice or anger though he was, in his opinion, well within his own rights for either. “ feel free to correct me. i’ve never had much of a head for names, and i’m afraid we never got a proper introduction when you broke into my home and tried to murder me. ” a small hum of thought. “ bit quiet around here, isn’t it? ”