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                    Adam had heard stories of his father. Many children had, but not many of the stories Adam heard about Hypnos were good. It wasn’t that he was bad, it was more that he just...came across as if he didn’t care. And, that’s exactly what Adam expected to happen. Yes, the man brought him to camp to save him from being placed into the foster system, but was that method really for the better? Adam grew up without a mother’s love and without a father’s guidance, the only people he had were the ones who were in the Hermes cabin (up until he and his other siblings finally were given a cabin of their own). Hypnos wouldn’t care about Adam, he knew he wouldn’t, but he still wanted to meet the man. Just once, just once to ask him why.

                          This had been the longest he’d went without actually recharging his batteries. All day, he’d been slipping in and out of consciousness, his brain seeking rest where it could and Adam not even knowing that it was happening. All he felt was his eyes stinging beyond belief. Insomnia hit him out of nowhere and refused to budge for a little while, but this was out of hand. What he needed, what he needed more than anything on Earth, was to just sleep. 

she'd wrapped herself in one of his ugly plaid shirts for aesthetic appeal. if she was supposed to be the doting girlfriend she had to play the  part right? it wasn't that his scent had an odd  comfort, or even that she looked way better in it than he did -- though she did. it was just to make them look more...domestic.                                Still, he has to keep up appearances, which is                              why he’s standing in the kitchen with his dad’s                             apron slung on, squinting at the recipe book                             that was once his mother’s and mumbling out                             instructions on what spices to add to the sauce                             that simmers away on the stovetop, too focused                             to notice the footsteps descending the stairs.

the scent of ripened tomato and a sprig of basil, riled her sense,

she'd wrapped herself in one of his ugly plaid  shirts for aesthetic appeal. if she was supposed to be the doting girlfriend she had to play the  part right? it wasn't that his scent had an odd  comfort, or even that she looked way better in it than he did -- though she did. it was just to make them look more...domestic.                         

             the scent of ripened tomato and a sprig of basil,              riled her senses, curiosity leading her downstairs,              clad in his shirt & little else. the cop car was nested              outside his house, a small wave in her direction as               she made her appearance known. hands wove               around stiles midriff, nose grazing the back of his               neck.

   "smells good. who'd you pay to cook for      you & let you take the credit?"

  Fingers drum relentlessly on the plastic table top, Katherine's trying to hide her disgust at the women helping her at the front desk. Her lip gloss is cheap and smeared, her eyeshadow glaring and completely not her color. Dirty blonde strands broken and dead at the ends, but the worst part is—

      —She’s taking forever to find Katherine's file. 

            All she wants is to get a head-start on her new life, with her new persona, but all the information she needs is in that file. Who her case assignment agent will be, her new identity, a folder chockfull of all the lies she gets to tell and weave for the foreseeable future. Then there’s that grimy little nightmare burning a hole in the back of her skull. The one where Klaus comes back, hellbent on his twisted view of revenge where they rattle her phone like her bones and chase her down until she’s haggard and broken and—

        “Miss? Miss.”

             She hadn’t realized how hard and how loud her fingers had gotten, like the constant drumming of her heartbeat in her chest, threatening to break through the cage of ribs. She wiped thoughts of her cyber stalker from her head, knowing if she continued to dwell she’d start on that nasty habit of chewing her nails once again.

              And they were painted the loveliest color of teal today.

  Still, she was pleased to see that the woman finally had her folder once again, waving the manilla in front of her face. “Thank you.God, took you all long enough.” Maybe it wasn’t wise to sass the people helping her, but Katherine was still Katherine, witness protection or not. Rolling her eyes she swiveled on a heel to sit back down in the waiting room for her case agent to greet her and to rifle through the contents of her newest web of lies. 

acxnitum

  ❝ --- So whose next ? ❞

       the question is dripping with tangible excitement. his heartbeat        sputtering and a deviousness that had been bred by stiles' hand        alone, the palpable yearning for blood on his hands and the sense        of accomplishment and pride it brought him. practically salivating        for the next hit, the next move.

 ❝ Dany ! ❞

      guttural growl of annoyance, he makes his presence known       by throwing open the door of her apartment, --- pleasantries       & manners long gone with the adjustment of being neighbors.       and taking each others things without asking.

             beryl hues race around the room until they settle on the petite female,              addressing the shirt she's wearing, his shirt, a nice one too. hugo boss              with a high thread count.

                 ❝ Do you even know how easily that material wrinkles?                     I told you to stay away from the designer clothes. ❞

   ❝ ----- p l e a s e. ❞

         god he aches. his bones are weary with the restlessness of          his mind. his heart is heavy with the glassy eyes of those he's          slaughtered. his body is fighting him for every breath & he          knows that it's nowhere near close to over. he can smell void          all around him. inside of him. like a sick & twisted marionette. 

             ❝ no more. ❞