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How I actually think Lampert got a new arm was because he got tired of Kas asking if the food was done yet over and over
lmao I guess Kas got his arm back at some point
Lamperts AU design by @lucid-daydreaming-art
Kaspers AU design by @unoriginal-and-dumb
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@knlfed said: Ū. ā” į¶ there's something SHIFTED , a CERTAIN kind of emptiness lingering between the two . had tried to get his ATTENTION once , twice , but to no avail . and who would she be , who would she BE , if not to find herself finding him through all the NOISE ? gentle hand wraps around his , pulling his arm close to her , pulling him close to her . looks up at him , concern lingering on her features . ā å°äøē¹ , you're okay , ā sage whispers quietly , free hand leaving his arm to push hair out of his FEATURES . ā you're safe , iso . i won't let anything happen to you . ā [ sage + iso ] ā Ū. ā” ( inbox call ) !
Hands reach for the past he's consistently fought to shake off, drawing it over his eyes like wool and suffocating him with memories he can still feel crawling along his skin. Skittering, they crawl like insects and the words of the organization pierced his skin word by word, eating at what they could, sucking what was left of him until the boy they hired was unrecognizable to a killer's duty. The hands that shook at the thought of holding a weapon gripped it like it was a utensil of his everyday life. Relied on it as an extension of his own selfāfound himself reaching for it even off duty as a habit, feeling bare without the feel of his finger on a trigger.
But his eyes never forgave him.
Blood is what haunts him. The blood of so many people forced to recognize as targets he lets their pleas stick to his mind like glue, hung in shame as the guilt of what he's done still threatens to make it harder and harder to breathe in a space he's been told is safe. Safe, what does that mean anymore? Is safe just the place that feeds him another day while the nightmares and guilt still eats him alive, forced to dress as a killer for the sake of others or is safe just a place that houses him until the next organization can afford to find use for him? Valorant's causes were more just, he thinks, but pointing the trigger at a more worthy target doesn't erase the mistakes of the lives he's taken in the past. No matter how hard he fights to suppress it the honest boy he's been is still crying out to put the gun down and live but he's hundreds of lives too late for that. The Protocol could make promises as a part of their agreement to protect him but how much is he supposed to rely on their security? Hourglass isn't to be taken lightly, nor is it simple to escape their clutches unscathed when they were always watching. One second could be all they need to eliminate any loose ends, as they had tried to do previously. One second ā¦
Iso finally acknowledges the body beside him with a blink and a sheepish apology, listening to her words with mild embarrassment as he tried to reassure her that he was fine, but the words never made it past his lips. He couldn't lie to her when she saw right through him, and frankly even his body rejected the idea of being dishonest when the burden was heavy enough to make him feel repulsed. "I'm sorry for worrying you." Her kind gesture sits with him, trying to hold it earnestly because he's torn on what else he's meant to do when he hasn't had stability in years. "I didn't mean to get so lost in thought-" The hands that brushes his hair stuns him, unable to deceive her with patched confidence when she reaches for him in a place no one else thinks to look. The boy he's fought so hard to forget feels seen in the strangest ways. "ā¦ It keeps me up at night. I find it hard to sleep." Finally the naked truth is left so plainly for her to take, trusting her without a second thought with feelings so raw he barely allows himself to feel them still. "I think the lack of sleep is finally getting to me."
@knlfed said: unformatted angst call. cw blood , violence . she hates feeling like this in front of iso : find sage clutching at her side , lead embedded deep in between her ribs . the blood is hot , and reeks of iron ; reminding sentinel of how painfully human she is --- but will still do her best effort to hide it from the other , pressing her body into the wall of the hallway , sweat beading at her forehead . ( radiant powers are too weak : sizzle out between your fingertips . even now , you fail . ) " s'just a scratch , " sage says , quietly , " i ā¦ am fine . it is ā¦ just ā¦ fine . go back to bed . "
"åč¾!" His voice is never too loud, trained to keep his volume controlled the habit never really escapes him even when it isn't necessary. Footsteps hurry despite making no noise above a whisper of his presence as he rushes to meet her side, hands trying to inspect the wound that she's itching to keep from his side. "Let me help you, you should sit down." Basic first aid wasn't beyond him. It was a necessary skill when he was constantly sent by his lonesome, sometimes the victim of a stray bullet or two scraping and splitting skin. Any heavier wounds were always to be borne until someone more experienced could right his mistakes.
Iso wasn't an expert, he knew he couldn't give her the attention that she needed himself but if he could make her comfortable while he sought out someone who could, it would be just as useful. "Lean on me." He insists, "I can wake Skye while you rest." It's a necessary intrusion, he thinks to dispel his anxiety of barging into someone else's room. For Sage's sake he could suffer the embarrassment.
Ā Ū. ā” Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā į¶Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā (Ā Ā you'reĀ treadingĀ onĀ thinĀ Ā ICEĀ .Ā youĀ Ā knowĀ itĀ .Ā there'sĀ somethingĀ aboutĀ theĀ doormanĀ ---Ā Ā KENNEDYĀ ---Ā thatĀ leavesĀ aĀ sourĀ tasteĀ inĀ yourĀ mouthĀ thatĀ noĀ amountĀ ofĀ bloodlustĀ canĀ fixĀ .Ā Ā )Ā Ā francisĀ adjustsĀ hisĀ HATĀ ,Ā asĀ ifĀ Ā primpingĀ andĀ Ā PREENINGĀ atĀ himselfĀ toĀ makeĀ himselfĀ lookĀ acceptableĀ .Ā Ā he'sĀ cuteĀ .Ā Ā enoughĀ toĀ makeĀ FRANCIS'Ā Ā stomachĀ Ā growlĀ ,Ā Ā letĀ shiversĀ runĀ downĀ hisĀ Ā SPINEĀ whenĀ makingĀ eyeĀ contactĀ .Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā āĀ Ā hiĀ ,Ā misterĀ kennedyĀ ...Ā Ā Ā Ā āĀ Ā Ā gentlyĀ slidesĀ idĀ andĀ Ā REQUESTĀ underĀ theĀ glassĀ paneĀ ,Ā placingĀ Ā CRATEĀ ofĀ milkĀ onĀ theĀ banisterĀ inĀ frontĀ ofĀ himĀ Ā ,Ā Ā Ā Ā āĀ weĀ gotĀ somethin'Ā newĀ .Ā chocolateĀ milkĀ ,Ā ifĀ youĀ wantedĀ toĀ tryĀ Ā ...Ā Ā āĀ Ā Ā
āĀ Ā Ā Ā Ū. ā”Ā Ā Ā (Ā Ā Ā Ā yourĀ museĀ isĀ theĀ doorman.Ā Ā Ā )Ā Ā !Ā
. Let no one tell you that being a doorman was boring busywork- well, maybe it used to be. Maybe at one point it was a thanklessly boring job. However, Leon was never more keen-eyed than when he caught a discrepancy in paperwork. But this was so minor.
His eyes scanned said paperwork, the folder of residents (there were more in this building than the last 2 he'd worked for combined), the list of visitors... Everything almost added up. Francis wasn't in his apartment, either. It was almost enough for him to shrug and let it go.
"That so?" He asked, cooling his tone so as not to arouse suspicion of a potential doppelganger. The D.D.D. had reminded him that all it did was make their jobs harder. "Gotta say it's a tempting offer." He leaned over to tap the button that would alert the D.D.D.- only to find the button didn't react. "Not really a fan of cow milk, though," he fibbed, trying to subtly tap the button again.
"Your company do any other kinds?" He sifted the papers, still checking them as that little discrepancy jumped out at him no matter how many times he scanned them. Still, could just be Francis in a hurry and this little thing meant nothing.
his aureate spheres were soft against the structure that bore the marks of his recent combat, the trials he had faced in the pits, with victory being the only denouement. for a moment, the bottle caught his attention, so carefully cradled in her petite hands, and he instantly knew it was a vessel of solace and restoration [ ... ] it was with care that he took it in one single calloused hand, feeling the weight of that liquid becoming naught but a balm to his weary form whilst her compassion a sunbeam in the aftermath of his battle. ā i thank you for the care. ā the acceptance of the elixir was done with reverence, bowing his head in silent gratitude. but it was her following words ( soft and sincere ) that stirred something within him, catching him off guard in their unexpected warmth and apprehension.
his tiers curved into a tender and sympathetic smile, a rare glimpse of vulnerability in the stoic stance he was prone to exhibit. with a gentle touch, he rested his hand upon her shoulder, the warmth of his palm providing a silent reassurance of his appreciation. ā you spoil me, @knlfedĀ . there is not a single day that you do not shower me with compliments. ā as his hand moved gently to her cheek, his thumb traced a path across its expanse, finding himself lost in the depths of her gaze. there was such a tenderness in her spheres, such care and protection, that her agitation was comprehended without words. ā don't worry about me... i'm far too calloused. there is nothin' in this world that can stop me. ā and as he spoke, his vox was a whisper, carrying the weight of his gratitude and admiration. ā your aid has an immeasurable value, the healing touch you've been bestowing upon me and countless others is undoubtedly appreciated. ā
there was a need to pause, to consider his speech before proceeding āø» he was certain she would not favour his decision. ā you had already your battles and you fought them not with swords and shields, but with the strength of your heart. ā and mayhap for a moment, he lost himself in the immensity of her; in all the glory she had become in her divine form. ā they are long finished, however. you deserve peace. ā he urged her to rest, to find respite from the rigours of her duties. ā you're always welcome here, still. always. after all... there is always something interesting to see here. ā ( continuation )
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unformattedĀ angstĀ call.Ā Ā aĀ blankĀ lookĀ isĀ offeredĀ toĀ theĀ otherĀ ;Ā asĀ ifĀ heĀ wereĀ noĀ moreĀ thanĀ anotherĀ studentĀ inĀ theĀ classĀ .Ā noĀ longerĀ isĀ thereĀ anyĀ kindĀ ofĀ softnessĀ orĀ sweetnesĀ lingeringĀ inĀ herĀ toneĀ ,Ā justĀ barelyĀ thereĀ ,Ā it'sĀ asĀ ifĀ itĀ didĀ noĀ longerĀ existĀ ---Ā asĀ ifĀ heĀ doesn'tĀ .Ā aiko doesn'tĀ doĀ muchĀ ,Ā exceptĀ shiftĀ herĀ weightĀ fromĀ oneĀ footĀ toĀ theĀ otherĀ .Ā Ā "Ā Ā iĀ haveĀ Ā ...Ā toĀ goĀ toĀ practiceĀ .Ā speakĀ ,Ā alreadyĀ ,Ā Ā "Ā headĀ cantingĀ toĀ Ā sideĀ ,Ā asĀ ifĀ he'sĀ betterĀ aĀ mosquitoĀ thanĀ exĀ loverĀ .Ā Ā "Ā Ā stop...Ā wastingĀ myĀ timeĀ .Ā Ā "
he wishes he could say her cold attitude and distance no longer affected him. at least not as much as it did once things ABRUPTLY ended. but that would be a lie. maybe it was a bad thing to like dogs so much, that trait of UNWAVERING loyalty would always be his downfall. especially when it came to her. always willing to come back whenever she dropped the SMALLEST hint.
it would almost be comical, if it wasn't HIM falling for it each time.
but her words don't sting as much now, not when that particular phrase was directed toward him numerous times during practice. guess she finally realized where she belonged. "you always knew how to make me feel insubstantial ishikawa.." he finally mumbled under his breath as he walked past her, dropping the packaged milk bread on her desk. "here. the captain gave me the very IMPORTANT last task of dropping this off," a lie, he just couldn't break out of the habit of grabbing THAT bread whenever he walked around during lunch to avoid the pitying gazes of their classmates. but this time would be the last. how lucky for her. "you can throw it away since i touched it or whatever you did with the other ones. we wouldn't want the ace to be contaminated by the alternate right?"
Ā Ū. ā” Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā į¶Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā āĀ Ā ohĀ ,Ā Ā iĀ ---Ā Ā āĀ Ā Ā forcesĀ bottomĀ lipĀ toĀ Ā JUTTĀ outĀ intoĀ aĀ gentleĀ poutĀ ;Ā eyebrowsĀ knittingĀ togetherĀ .Ā fatigueĀ lingersĀ onĀ hisĀ Ā FACEĀ inĀ anĀ almostĀ pitifulĀ ,Ā Ā patheticĀ wayĀ :Ā Ā milkĀ bottlesĀ clinkingĀ togetherĀ asĀ heĀ shiftsĀ hisĀ weightĀ fromĀ oneĀ footĀ toĀ theĀ Ā OTHERĀ .Ā Ā isĀ heĀ evenĀ payingĀ Ā ATTENTIONĀ Ā ?Ā Ā hisĀ eyesĀ seemĀ allĀ butĀ Ā GLUEDĀ toĀ thatĀ littleĀ deviceĀ ofĀ hisĀ ,Ā Ā Ā doesĀ heĀ evenĀ needĀ toĀ putĀ onĀ thisĀ Ā actĀ Ā ?Ā Ā Ā āĀ Ā iĀ lostĀ myĀ Ā WALLETĀ ,Ā iĀ ---Ā iĀ don'tĀ haveĀ myĀ Ā IDĀ .Ā Ā isĀ itĀ okayĀ ifĀ iĀ giveĀ youĀ anĀ alternateĀ formĀ ofĀ Ā IDĀ orĀ somethingĀ Ā ?Ā Ā i'mĀ reallyĀ sorryĀ Ā sirĀ ,Ā Ā iĀ knowĀ it'sĀ inconvenientĀ ...Ā Ā āĀ Ā Ā francisĀ saysĀ softlyĀ .Ā Ā Ā
āĀ Ā Ā Ā Ū. ā”Ā Ā Ā (Ā Ā Ā Ā yourĀ museĀ isĀ theĀ doorman.Ā Ā Ā )Ā Ā !Ā
when he was asked to cover the window, they convinced him it would be just like a GAME. granted a dangerous game where things COULD happen to him or the other residents if he made a mistake. but still, a game nonetheless. so when the noise of glass bottles clinking together interrupted his gaming experience, he RELUCTANTLY looked at the button beside the window. wondering if he kept it closed it long enough, would the other male give up and leave.
if this was the first person he encountered, maybe he would have been more inclined to listen to his SOB story. but how many times did he hear "i lost my id" or "my entry papers are missing" already? too many to count. instead, he lowered his phone to glance at the male.".. do you have any other paperwork i could look at? just to make sure .." his voice trailed off, not wanting to jinx his luck by summoning a doppelganger just because he mentioned one outloud.
@knlfed :
luxannaĀ toĀ letĀ eyesĀ narrowĀ towardsĀ theĀ otherĀ ,Ā loveĀ andĀ warmthĀ havingĀ longĀ sinceĀ recededĀ atĀ seeingĀ akaliĀ .Ā Ā it'sĀ aĀ mixtureĀ ofĀ unhappinessĀ ,Ā irritationĀ ,Ā andĀ betrayalĀ asĀ sheĀ looksĀ towardsĀ theĀ otherĀ .Ā Ā (Ā Ā ohĀ ,Ā howĀ yourĀ heartĀ stillĀ callsĀ outĀ forĀ herĀ ,Ā evenĀ nowĀ .Ā Ā )Ā Ā "Ā whatĀ doĀ youĀ want,Ā akaliĀ Ā ?Ā " herĀ voiceĀ isĀ coldĀ ,Ā andĀ soundsĀ soĀ unlikeĀ herĀ .Ā Ā luxĀ turnsĀ awayĀ fromĀ theĀ otherĀ .Ā Ā "Ā you'reĀ justĀ gonnaĀ leaveĀ againĀ ,Ā soĀ ...Ā youĀ mightĀ asĀ wellĀ spitĀ itĀ outĀ .Ā Ā "
Ā The coldest in both gaze and words was a foreign concept to that of the Ionian ninja . . . at least under the context of it coming from someone who she considered a beaming ray of light in an ever present haze of gray . . . it made her stomach churn in remorse , her heart sink ever slightly , and her eyes droop in shame .
Ā Akali's hand reaches out slightly beyond her person , towards the Crownguard daughter . . . before swiftly dropping back down to her waist level once again ,
Ā ā Lux . . . I . . . ā she struggled to find words ; what had originally been planned as a late night rendezvous where she would express a simple three word phrase to the other ? It had turned into one where Akali felt unworthy of such a notion . . . again .
Ā She had warned Luxanna before this arrangement had even begun , about the blood that stained her hands and it being the reason they would be so far apart more often than not . . . yet , that didn't sway Luxanna . . . at least for the long while , perhaps it was finally catching up to her ? Akali couldn't really blame her if that was the case .
Ā The Ninja tries her luck , stepping forward the blonde woman and gently spinning her to the point where blue eyes locked tenderly with those that were red ; Akali's death laced palm scooping the cheek of The Mage . . . her thumb aimlessly caressing the skin beneath it .
Ā ā åćØčµ°ćććęćć®ć©ć³ćæć³ ćā her voice is soft , attempting to reach deep within the confines of Luxanna's heart . Despite the thrill of a kill , or the pride that came with defending her homeland ? Moments like these . . . growing ever lost in those Crownguard eyes ?
Ā That was where Akali proved happiest .
