#moonsmourning

his  glass  goes  untouched,      collecting  condensation  on  the  bar  in  front  of  him.    it  would  have  only  taken  a   moment   to  move  the  mask  out  of  the  way,        sneak  a  sip   &   put  it  back     -     but  he  can  feel  her  watchful  gaze  on  his  features.       she  is  anticipating   him  to  say  something.         wants  him  to  say  something.        most  are  interested  in  his  mindset.      they  wanted  to  know   why   he  thought  in  such  patterns.    what  made  mutants  more  superior  to  others.      it  wasn't  a  matter  of  such.     simply  that  he  wanted   justice   for  his  kind,      something  akin  to  acceptance;     perhaps,     a  little  bit  of  …  respect,   even.       more  than  what  they  were  getting  now.        her  nails  tapped  on  the  edge  of  her  glass,      it  wasn't  completely  empty     -     not  yet.        neither  of  them  had  set  an  impossible  pace.      drinking  wasn't  the   intention   of  this  meeting. 

turning over the necklace in her palm, she eyed up the crystal at it's core. no doubt, something meaningful to it's owner. she had called it a good luck charm. perhaps, something that held high sentimental value to her. taking it from her had felt unfair. she may have been offering it, but LOKI didn't want to take what wasn't her's to own. trustworthy enough not to lose it, the necklace would be in safe hands. the crystal catching the light so beautifully as she turns it some more.

from @moonsmourning roselle to dr. strange

his face contorts, but thankfully, his back is to her. his jaw tightens, muscles tensing beneath his skin, and his fingers curl into fists at his sides. a slow, measured breath escapes his nose before he turns his head just enough to glance over his shoulder, locking eyes with her.

"no," he answers flatly. "it's part of the course to become a doctor. they strip out all semblance of a personality as we go."

his tone is dry, the humor even drier, but he already knows the joke will probably sail right over her head—just like all the others.

people used to think he was funny. once.

wong’s voice echoes in his memory, the question ringing sharp and unwelcome: were they working for you?

his jaw ticks. he grimaces.

without another word, he turns forward again, shoulders rigid as he starts up the curved staircase of 177A Bleecker Street. the wooden steps creak faintly beneath his weight, the air thick with the scent of old books and something faintly metallic, like magic lingering in the walls. he doesn’t look back when he speaks.

Whirling around to face her, Naruto regards her with wide eyes and an open mouth. Why the hell is she there?! Closing and opening his mouth several times, he tries to get out an apology. It sticks behind his clenched teeth. No matter how many times tries to rub it off, it doesn't move.

Looking down at the charred ground damaged by his blast, he sees the evidence of her words. But...

His still clawed fingers roll into his palm and his shoulders line with tension. With the Kyuubi's energy coursing through him, his usually blue eyes fill red. They narrow at Sakura.

“I told you move.”

He told her way ahead of time of his plan. He was gunna burst down the enemies with a big shot of energy. Didn’t he? He steps toward her, shoulders dropping and a look of pure confusion on his face. She’s right he could’ve…yet those aren't the words filling his mouth.

“I know I told you Sakura-chan,” he says again, before letting out a disbelieving laugh. The the implication hanging between thickening, absorbing the air between them. “So why were you still at my side?”

[ Sakura H. → ✉ ] Somehow I highly doubt Tiktok told you to spend all your time on it. [ Sakura H. → ✉ ] Everything on there is bullshit anyways. Consider me un-seducible. [ Sakura H. → ✉ ] Sounds like Naruto is going to be your new study partner. [ Sakura H. → ✉ ] He just told me he did the same thing.

A few moments later....

[ Sakura H. → ✉ ] Meet me in the library tomorrow at 2 PM. If you're even five minutes late I'm letting you suffer the consequences of your actions.

“In your perspective.” He murmurs before lifting his tea mug and taking a careful sip. Placing the cup back down without breaking eye contact, he rests his hand back on his crossed knee. Observation is always key in uncertain situations. It’s like picking up pieces of a discarded puzzle and trying to guess what the image is despite the missing pieces.

He’s always been quite skilled at making rather good guesses.

“Are you placing judgment on my decisions?” He decides to prompt. His shoulders drop as he relaxes into his seat. His watch lights up with a message, his phone on the table buzzes. The notifications go ignored as Itachi keeps his easy attention on the blond woman.

“I will kindly remind you that you can walk away, if you do not feel we can handle your safety. This is just a preliminary meeting after all.”

@moonsmourning said: 'not  just  a  scratch' ( horo & earl ) *yes she might not be on the roster but she is always here for her big brother ok

send ' not just a scratch ' for your muse to catch my muse patching a wound in secret

It isn't often these days that Earl gets hurt. He's never gotten very many injuries even before his lost leg - back in the days when he was as reckless and strong as Zoya and Horo. But even after, he wasn't one to cower in the back. He was just wise enough to know what to avoid. Injuries are inevitable sooner or later though. He was just lucky to wear such dark layers no one had noticed. ( Luckier still that it hadn't been a mania infused weapon. )

He slips away from everyone else and makes his way to his office in the Legion quarters, refusing to let his grim expression change. It's only in the safety of privacy that he finally hisses in pain while he tosses his jacket to the side and peels off his gloves. The smell of blood fills the room and he subtly flinches when his fingers find the two stab wounds at his side. Shallow but painful. Earl rather regrets having that person explode rather than torture. But that doesn't matter now. What matters is getting patched up and all of this hidden with no one the wiser.

Fate, however, seems to have other plans. Earl has only BARELY started to wipe away the blood on his abdomen when he looks up to meet Horo's eyes as she steps into the office. There's no hiding this now, and he can't play it off as just a scratch even if he wants to. ( Wants to, not because she can't handle it, but he doesn't want her worrying or wondering how long he'd been injured pretending he wasn't in front of everyone. ) It's not that bad. He can already hear her yelling if he tried to say something like that. So he doesn't.

" hey! "

strange is upon her in an instant, crossing the space between them in just a few steps. his hand grabs both of hers, not harshly, but firm enough to stop her. there's a flicker of urgency in the way his fingers wrap around hers, even if the grip lacks its strength.

" what did i tell you about touching things you don't understand? "

his voice isn't raised, but there's tension in it, something tight and tired. his brow is drawn, and his eyes flash with something between concern and frustration.

he exhales, the sound long and worn out, as if this isn’t the first time she’s done something like this.

" you can ask what they do first. please. "