#lifefcrged

tycho had been relatively quiet all day. not that security issues or disturbances were his problem but he did like to lend a hand when it was within how power. on that note, comms were quiet, too. nothing from the company he worked for or anyone reaching out for help in any other regard. so, arthur took the silence as an opportunity to spend time with mikkah. it was take out in her office at the clinic but it was also better than nothing.

chopsticks pick at a small bunch of noodles. small seared chunks of tofu scattered throughout. arthur shoves in a mouthful, slurping one of the errant strands before putting the box back down on the desk.

morgawse had been on his mind. well, specifically, how his sister had proven to be a nightmare of a wall for arthur to go and see his surviving son. truth was, he missed the days when he had a complete family. he missed being young with the prospect of heading the company laid out before him. life was more simple then. would he have made the same impact on the system? probably not. but...

❝ am i your prisoner? ❞ Victor

He’s unbothered, unfazed by the presence of the other. He’s been a standing guard before when they were heavily concerned about someone who was more or less uncooperative. This was one of those times as Victor sat in a chair on the opposite side of the room so he could look into her cage. He was picking at the nails of his fingers that had become claws due to his mutation, something that happened a long time ago. He remembered it easily but was never upset with it. Victor had embraced what he was all too easily. Some might have been frightened by it but he didn't care. So his attention remained on his claws until the other spoke up, sort of. He doesn't look in her direction, instead keeping his eyes on the claws as he lets out a chuckle with an animalistic grin. "Here I thought it was obvious." Now he lowers his hands, lifts his gaze up to meet her's. "You are in a cage after all, maybe the little birdie should sing."

@lifefcrged​

He actually tends to veer away from physical touch for a little bit after sex... while he’s not exactly opposed to it, entirely, he’d be way more likely to sit on the edge of the bed and hold his partner’s hand than full on cuddling. 

​She’d had no reason to have any suspicions that the doctor she’d come across at the unofficial clinic was anything more than a woman who wanted so vehemently to make a difference in world, to do actual good, that she was helping those that couldn’t be helped anywhere else. That she was someone who was more interested in making a difference, positive change, than climbing any career ladder or even following the strictest sense of the law. She’d made no mention she was an FBI agent, not only so that any patients were not suddenly fearful they were to be arrested, but she didn’t want Dr Ingram to think her work was no longer safe to continue where it was.

All Scully had done was offer her services where she could, seeing as many patients as she was able within a single weekend, and taken some enjoyment in helping people in a different way to her work at the bureau. She couldn’t deny she’d enjoyed getting back to medicine, to involving herself in medical work that wasn’t an autopsy for once, and she’d come back to work a little brighter despite feeling like maybe she could have done with an extra 24 hours of sleep.

Dr Ingram perhaps wouldn’t have ever entered her mind again if she hadn’t been helping Mulder move case files around, getting them into his newly decided system-- which, admittedly, could change back just as quickly depending on how the mood, or the weeks, took him-- and seen something odd. 

The name Michelle Ingram in one of the case files had seemed like nothing like more than mere coincidence until she read everything else, the multiple names, as well as exactly two photos, both of them going back decades. This was more than an unqualified medical professional practising on patients who had no means of countering any malpractice, this was...well, she wasn’t sure what it was, but she was going to get to the bottom of it. 

Driving down to the same place and hoping the pseudo-clinic hadn’t already moved on, Scully marched through the door and kept marching until she came right before Michelle and slammed the manila folder right down in front of her. 

“You’re a fraud.”

"Contrary to popular belief, I actually do care about other people. A fair amount of the time I do actually," he says. "It's just so difficult to believe when one shuts themselves off from the world for years at a time. It's for their benefit. Not mine."

It was dark, both The Mariner and Mikkah were illuminated only by the moon and stars above them which hung bright and heavy. Hesitantly The Mariner touched Mikkah's shoulder, aware she had been watching him in that dim but inviting light. He had been watching her too, aware of old and lonely hungers he so rarely felt safe enough to indulge. The question no doubt showed on his face as he traced the pale light as it touched her arm. Do you want me?

@lifefcrged

SHORT ANGST SENTENCE STARTERS // accepting

@lifefcrged​:  ❛ don’t make me do this. ❜

          Words were caught in this throat,  choking him;  grief,  old and new,  tore at his heart.  It was cruel of him,  he knew,  to turn her away after so long of being apart.  Part of him never wanted to let her go lest he never see her again,  but Mikhail knew the safest place for her to be was far from him.  He had come here with a purpose,  after tracking down a small cell of Hydra agents;  he never expected to find Mikkah here as well.  It was clear that she didn’t know about the Hydra cell close by,  and the thought of his sister so close to those bastards brought on a fear he hadn’t felt in years.