#moldedrose

@moldedrose

“ --- Oh? ”     They're so long past the point of worrying about language in their household the swear doesn't even warrant comment.  Mia's brows raise and a smile crosses briefly over her expression.  Her immediate reaction is to be suspicious  ( how did they get into her locker?  what else could they have hidden in there?  exactly how many roses was a shitload? )  but she's not going to tarnish this for her daughter with with paranoia just yet.  And, truth be told, there was something refreshing and endearing about such a cliche act.  There weren’t enough of those in their lives.

There's a little chuckle that her comment gets out of Ethan, turning to give his daughter a grin and a raised brow as he removes his coat from the rack and begins to don it. "Oh she is? I don't think dead Rosemarys get to go on ice cream dates with their dads."

He pulls her jacket from its hook next, tossing it towards the teen dramatically sprawled on the sofa. "C'mon. I'll let you drive if you promise not to send us off a bridge."  

@moldedrose inquired:  “ hello darkness my old friend … “ for ethan :)

                                                   💚 meme  //  accepting 💚

                   “ i’ve come to talk with you again ... ”  his first instinct is to continue the song,  for he is a dad who grew up in the nineties.  ethan cuts that out soon enough,  though,  and ruffles her hair,  the faintest smile on his face.

question starters (accepting) | @moldedrose

He just turns to glance at Rose with a stupid grin gradually creeping across his face, an equally stupid comment about to roll off his tongue and into the world -- and once it’s out there, it’s out there. No take backs.

@moldedrose // drugged & tied to a chair after being tortured and missing // inbox open.

He came to in fits and starts. His eyes fluttered, unfocused. He couldn't lift his head. He couldn't feel his left arm. His mind was disjointed, signals coming in all wrong. His mouth tasted sharp, like iron. He heard someone's voice. Young. Feminine. The tacky, stickiness of his tattered clothes glued to his skin. A pounding in his skull. Nausea roiling his stomach. It was hard to breathe.

There was no hope of getting his training together like this. He couldn't put the pieces in the right order. His memory was a scattered jigsaw puzzle. He remembered pulling away from a needle. He remembered a table of metal instruments. He had grinned with bloody teeth and spat in the face of one of his captors. He couldn't remember what they wanted.

Something pushed at his shoulder. The pain was sharp and sudden and Leon uttered a strangled noise. He pulled away, or tried to, the rope holding him still strong. Leon tried to open his eyes again, left his head.

The lights were dim and still they stung his retinas. Something smelled like puke or death and Leon shuddered. His skin felt too tight. Colors blended into one another. His head pounded. He caught sight of her hair first, before his eyes fluttered closed again.

Maybe it was a few minutes that felt like hours, but his body ached now like one big bruise. Leon knew if he moved it would get worse. Maybe he wouldn't come back from this. He wasn't as young as he used to be. They had wanted to know something. He had kept his mouth shut, even when they started on his nails. Even when they said his teeth were next. He didn't think they got that far, but they got far enough.

His throat was a desert. His breath wheezed. He coughed, tasted red. He forced his eyes open and found her, found her for real this time.

question starters (accepting) | @moldedrose

It had been a wayward comment from one of the agents about Rose -- all it takes for a father's rage to ball into a fist and soar straight towards the offender's jaw. Now Ethan's likely to get a talking to for it, sitting in a room with his daughter as he waits for someone like Chris to come in and dismiss them from the building. Probably not the first time he's been in this kind of situation with the B/SAA.