#mshtix

she's casually slipping him a doodle that she drew...

 almost warily , he accepts the slip of paper handed to him , and it takes him a moment and a quick straightening of his glasses to realize exactly what he's looking at.

 ❛ wait , is . . . is this me? ❜ he asks , tone a mix of incredulity and awe. the more he looks at it , the cuter it gets , something he'd admittedly never expected from the punk chick with a chip on her shoulder. then again , he should know better than anyone that people can surprise you. ❛ this is . . . you did this? you made this. wait , he even has a little tie! ❜

 she's never seen him this excited , and he's sure that his current energy levels are not something she wants to be around. but as small of a gesture as it may seem , he now considers this a cherished possession , and tucks it into the small flap in the front of his pocket notebook for safekeeping.

she  slips  adriana  a  doodle  of  an  evil  little  skull-kitty....  ( image referenced )

mechanical  fingers  with  elongated  jeweled  nails  pinch  together  against  the  paper  presented  before  her  --  eyes  scanning  the  paper,  the  scribblings  &  artwork  that  seem  quite  reminiscent  of  herself.  her  head  tilts  --  gears  a  whirring  as  if  to  “boot  up,”  despite  how  nimble  adriana  actually  is,  mechanical  arm  lifting  to  put  the  drawing  at  eye  level.  

somewhere,  behind  the  handcrafted  mask,  there  is  a  smile  --  a  visible  brow  that  seems  to  ease,  gentle,  compared  to  the  always  furrowed,  always  contemplating,  always  mindful.  the  drawing  is  reminiscent  &  referring  of  herself,  of  colorful  moniker  that  she  happily  took  up,  a  character  created  of  father  beloved.  

❛  nea  karlsson,  ❜  adriana’s  voice  speaks  in  a  monotone  behind  the  mask,  a  robotic  hint  to  tone.  she  made  it  a  point  to  learn  the  names  of  her  victims,  for  that  was  a  merciful  duty.   ❛   this  is  kind  of  you, ❜  it  reminds  her  of  the  mangas  that  young  ones  would  send  her  to  be  published  --  something  innocent  in  a  way.  it  reminds  her  of  the  adorable  cats  back  home,  the  strays  that  she’d  encounter  on  her  way  to  &  from  school,  a  desire  to  always  pet  them.   ❛  thank  you.  i  must  find  a  home  for  this,  ❜  she  was  immediately  thinking  the  minifridge  --  held  by  a  small  crafted  magnet,  to  proudly  display.  a  pause,  adriana  tilts  her  head,  eyes  fixating  onto  @mshtix​. 

"Dman, buongiorno anche a te.." The motel door is unceremoniously shut behind him. He hadn't traveled as a duo in some time. It almost startles him to see Nea sitting outside. He feels on the edge of being comfortable, but some inner itch has him uncertain about the whole thing- probably due to some unresolved conflicts from nearly decades ago.

He often wonders how long this company will last. How much longer he will have another person who understood what haunted their waking lives.

Squinting out into the slowly encroaching sun as noon drew near, Ace pushes up a pair of pink-coloured lenses. He goes to roll his lighter, sparking a flame for the butt of the cigarette hanging between his lips. "You chose to travel with an old-timer, yeah? I like catching my beauty sleep."

A restful night's sleep would've been ideal. Instead, as his mind grew still, looming dread like that creeping fog seeped into his subconscious. It had made its home there, as it did to so many of them he assumed. The screams of all too familiar voices forever clung to the inside of his skull, the scent of thick tacky crimson stained into his skin, and pain...

jake peers over, down his shoulder to where she sits in the grass. he pauses a moment, and hums a thoughtful noise. ❝ i'm always a little scared,❞ he answers, with a quiet smile in nea's direction. and that was true — countless deaths in this place did not limit his heartbeat rabbiting when a killer was bearing down on him. did not dampen the dread, each time he was pulled into another fight for his life. he could not promise her she would ever not be scared. and he imagines, if that fear were ever to leave him, he will have been here too long.

he rests his chin on folded arms, and raises a brow to nea, conspiratory, like he was about to share some great secret; ❝ … so, i used to be, like, petrified, of riding a bike when i was little. and my dad — kind of a hardass, but. the first thing he showed me how to do, was how to fall. so that, when i felt myself about to lose my balance, i could land safely. ❞ he huffs a laugh; ❝ i must have fallen off that thing like, fifty times. but, by the end of the day, i could do it. even though i was still scared every time i fell, i knew how to catch myself. ❞ there's a twinge in his chest that makes his words stick in his throat, for a moment. he hadn't thought of his father in some time.

Leon also thought he was dead. It feels inconceivable that he made it out through the gates, even though he surely did. It's like that first moment, however long ago, when zombies overtook the police department and he realized that this wasn't a joke, that all of this was really happening.

It feels like that feeling should have gone away by now. He shouldn't be able to be surprised by anything anymore, let alone surprise. And yet -- he's alive, and he's not dead, and that feels a little bit like a miracle right now. He grins at Nea, although he doubts she'll be as excited about this as he is. Most people aren't here.

JOHN WICK PROMPTS - Accepting

@mshtix: i guess it's time i told you to climb down off your high table and go fuck yourself.

𝑫𝑶𝑵'𝑻 𝑺𝑴𝑰𝑳𝑬 𝑨𝑻 𝑴𝑬 - accepting

@mshtix: don't talk about me like you might know how i feel .

     Quentin snorted, “What are you gonna kill me with? Your razor-sharp wit?” He barely dodged the elbow aimed for his ribs. It was an inevitable retribution. He laughed, though, taking it in companionable stride.

     He wasn’t in any business of sharing secrets or exploiting pain. God above---if He even existed here---knew that they were all going through enough. No need to betray the ones who could hold your life in their hands. This companionship was a necessity in cooperation and in keeping sanity. And while it was surprising to have Nea, of all people, to quietly indulge in her anxieties with him, he wasn’t going to take the delicate trust she’d chipped off and handed him for granted. He’d covet it close in the dark between his ribs and, as he promised, won’t let it see the light of day.