#mrkdlegion

she knew she would find herself at the red hearts one day, it was only a matter of when. chanel leads a successful business on the isle, and with her fame and contacts, she will play a crucial part in roxx’s project. but today, she is sitting inside a room, waiting for another woman. a woman with a talent in art.

for almost six months, roxx has been recording events in words. her attempts to recreate scenes in drawing were laughable at best, and insulting at worse. it wasn’t until tala came back with a portrait. charcoal smudged shading, sharp lines along the little thieves toothy grin. simple and vivid.

so there she is now. waiting for xaviera to show up. so she can ask for her help.

@mrkdlegion​ said :   “you just rip the paper right off?! you heathen.”  //  sammy

“ that is the best part about unwrapping presents. ”

the chief had never appreciated the mess he’d made, as a kid, in his haste to free his presents from their bright, neatly wrapped prisons, but his fervour had always delighted his mother. despite thirty years having gone by, nathan finds himself just as eager as he had been then, when it had been baseball gloves and jurassic park lunchboxes under the tree. he shoots sammy a grin, trying to convey just how touched he is that the boy had thought to get him anything at all without words --- he certainly hadn’t been expecting the kid to bounce through his office’s door, complaining about him working on christmas, and offer up a gift. 

he scans the room in search for a safe spot -- it means somewhere leaning against the wall, an indoor, low-rise vantage point -- while taking note of the parts to stay away from. ( for the sake of politeness. )

“ no, i’m not allergic to-- ” the furchild sneaks past him just as he is about to respond, almost tripping him over. once he’s steady on both feet, he looks at jake, pointing towards the room, stating the obvious, “ --that’s your cat. ”

he still hasn’t found a place to seat -- maybe he should stop staring at him -- when jake begins taking his order. “ mountain dew with milk? ” he asks incredulously, then quickly adding, “ no. no mountain dew. water’s fine. ”

“ The back room? ” He turns around to check, focusing above the thumping frequencies around him. He picks up whispers, men talking but words indistinctive. He looks around them, clueless crowds still cheering to the DJ. “ We have to make sure nobody gets hurt, ” he tells Grey, a hand clasped over the other’s arm, then leading the way towards where Grey swore was the SOURCE of danger.

    “I MAKE NO APOLOGIES,  All of my sins I would repeat and I repeat 'cause I'mma be me 'til the death of me.”

there   was   one   thing   for   sure   when   𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐍   kicked   𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐄𝐋   behind   the   knees,   making   him   drop,   he   did   not   have   to   be   told   twice.   he   only   had   been   circling   the   𝙝𝙮𝙗𝙧𝙞𝙙   and   with   a   smile,   he   allowed   his   sickly   pale   skin   to   turn   into   a   carbon-like   color   as   the   white   of   his   eyes   was   quickly   consumed   with   the   swirling   of   black   and   cobalt.   𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐍   did   not   fully   shifted   to   his   own   𝙝𝙮𝙗𝙧𝙞𝙙   state,   wanted   to   experience   the   variety   within   the   state   of   the   change   such   as   he   did   with   his   𝙡𝙮𝙘𝙖𝙣   form.  

their   moves   and   strength   were   equally   matched,   punches   and   kicks   flying   left   and   right,   up   and   down.   claws   went   to   slice   through   skin,   blood   splattered   upon   the   walls   and   them.   the   lights   flickered   from   them   launching   and   throwing   themselves   against   the   walls   until   one   ends   up   pinned   to   the   wall.

𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐄𝐋   had   𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐍’s   arm   resting   across   his   throat,   pushing   him   firmly.   they   stood   within   each   other’s   personal   space,   panting   and   growling.

                   ❝   not   bad...   you   surely   do   not   disappoint...   ❞

in between auradon’s plastic colours, there are few who shine through with genuity. blue and yellow make green, and that shade of emerald always help the awkward one glow. uma is done reading today, too tired of the long-winding passages and the concepts they so desperately hope to define; seeing doug pass by delights her, and she quickly jogs up to him.

“ DOUG ! ” there is no sense of personal space once the lost revenge’s captain has marked you as crew. her gloved hands reach for his shoulders, and she grins wide. “ band practice? ”