#niratias

𝐈𝐍𝐉𝐔𝐑𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐃 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒

"Okay well, yes," her voice is terse, "but what was I supposed to do? Alert everyone within ear shot that I was significantly wounded and an easy target for it?"

Her cape had hidden the worst of it, the way the fabric of her sleeve stuck to her arm like paper mache . Even pealing it back now that they were out of sight from others makes her wince.

At nearly three inches long it's absolutely not a scratch. The act of pulling the cloth away makes it start oozing again.

[ Mox is half grappler half brawler. Great up close fighter with a mix of quick counters and devastating grabs. I’d even see him with like a bloodlust type meter where the more damage he receives the stronger his attacks become. Very much a high risk high reward type of character. Biggest drawback are the lack of far range attacks and bloodlust meter. Pairs well with a zoner character.]

Jon's cracked front tooth is aching today. He can't blame a cold drink. He can't blame getting hit in the face. He can't even blame grinding at night, because it's specifically that damn front tooth and nothing else hurts. It's persistent in the way mouth pain always is, drowning out the fact he should be feeling the abrasions on the forearm that he had to drag back out of that busted windowpane once he'd finished the job of slamming the stranger straight down onto the shards there. From the dead man's leather vest, Outlaw MC affiliated.

The flesh of the throat parts SO easily.

This was not clean by any means. He got lucky that he didn't cut himself open deeply enough to need to panic.

He doesn't know how he feels about some of that gore being his own.

"To my knowledge," he says, voice gravel as usual, while he fishes for a cigarette, which he pinches between steady fingers before using his injured arm to find his lighter, "he was here alone, at least."

It was quiet now, the humidity outside making her get a strange pit in her stomach. Heat and the mixture of blood, never a good combination for her per say. It was almost as if it was made to solely make her stomach churn, and it was doing so in that very moment. She tried to ignore it as she looked down at the body, shards seeming to poke out everywhere as she groaned. The familiar smell of iron hit her nose and her attention now turned to Mox, eyebrow raised as she turned her attention turned fully on his features. "You're hurting... somewhere." She couldn't quite pinpoint where his pain was from, but she could feel it without having to push the issue.

Her eyes moved down to her boots, blood splatter from what she assumed was from the dead man's own body, maybe even some of Mox's own. "Great, fucker couldn't help but cover me too." A laugh, one that she made quiet before looking around. "I don't hear anyone else coming, but that doesn't mean that have some kind of signal on this guys either..." Samara never prayed, but hope that for now the two of them were safe from whatever could happen from that point forward.

The slightest of sneers creases his mouth, listening without comment until Mox had his say. That name change for a start still hasn't settled, no matter how many times Seth turns it over in his mouth. A clear, clean break from what the three of them had tried to build together, it impressed more than chafed.

"Ahhh! Coming from you, that's a compliment!" It earns the drag of a lingering cackle, that sees the knuckle of one hand dig against the opposite palm, missing the comforting weight of a microphone in hand. Far from the crowds, there was none to witness this reunion, in the absence of Reigns. Not that much was missed by the guy's presence, but he couldn't -- and didn't wish to -- speak for the man once known to him as Ambrose's thoughts on the matter.

✎ㅤ. . .ㅤ𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑫𝑪𝑨𝑵𝑶𝑵 𝑸𝑼𝑬𝑺𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵𝑺.

Her former tutor when she lived in High Rock.

Nuremo Thilinian, an Altmer wizard, was her personal instructor and very much family in his own way. He made her feel like she was never too small, too weak, to do the things she wanted to do and didn't go easy on her just because she was delicate.

After her mother's passing and the sundering of her relationship with her own father, Nuremo was very much the only rock she had left until he was let go from his position. In many ways she can credit him for her unwavering tenacity, for better or worse.

@niratias sent: 🔥: What’s something that instantly makes your muse angry?

Symbol Headcanon Questions

Stretched out in her seat, leaning her head back against the backrest and 'staring' at the ceiling, Emil gave out a long and thoughtful hum. With all her fingers splayed on the tabletop, she tapped in a wave, left to right.

She was thinking, but not about what angered her, but what she was willing to reveal. Knowledge what angered someone was just as valuable as knowledge what they desired, or feared. It was a tool of manipulation that should be earned, not freely given away.

"When people insist Bor is my pet," Emil finally spoke into the ceiling.

Did it make her angry? Not really, no. But what was irritation if not a low-level anger? Was her scale of things skewed ever since she knew what it was to hate? To burn with anger so intense it went past the screaming and blind rage into the quiet and calculated intent to obliterate?

What was a tiny little pinprick of irritation when she had experienced a typhoon of rage?

"He's my friend, not a pet, and if someone doesn't understand the difference, we are not gonna get along."

@niratias sent: 💰: How reckless is your muse when it comes to spending money? 

Symbol Headcanon Questions

Emil put a wok away to let it cool, closed the air supply on her forge and took off her gloves.

"What does reckless even mean in my case?" she asked instead of answering, leaning against the table and picking her mug of tea.

Did she live above her means? No.

Was she making monetary choices that would put her in a bind later? No.

But did she budget? Also no.

Was she spending on some things way more than she had to? Very much yes.

Was she leaving money behind and donating? Often.

What did it even mean to be reckless with money when one was an outlaw and a pirate?

Yes, she had a profession. She was a blacksmith. Hardly the best one in the world, but a good one. She could earn a good living with it... But she made this wok and would make many more pans and ladles because she wanted to make a suit of armour for herself and needed practice creating thin surfaces over her usual knives and swords. Yes, she would sell that wok, but she would sell it for a low, symbolic value.

Was that reckless too?

Was it reckless to be careless with money when she knew she had ample slack? When she could reliably sneak into any wealthy asshole's house and nab a small fortune in a single night? When there was a depressingly high supply of wealthy assholes?

Many turned to crime to get out of poverty. Emil was already branded a wanted criminal, so what was adding a little theft to murder?

-whispers- she would be good with money, she's just feeling philosophical xD

"CAN YOU TAKE ME HIGHER....."

txt > Dickhead 2: Wtf bad dog

txt > Dickhead 2: I have never met anyone i hate more than u

txt > Dickhead 2: cant understand you jackass

txt > Dickhead 2: tlk like a fked up speaker