#psyknife

Closed rp with @psyknife

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Pack Cerberus was their name, villainy was their game, stealing from the rich, and giving to the poor, killing awful people, fighting heroes, they did it all.

"COUGH COUGH COUGH!" A large man with grey hair, and tail sat in a bed, clutching a blanket while surrounded by a small group.

"Hey, old man, take it easy. Don't sit up..." the leader or these has bins helps his adoptive father in bed, Des looked over him, he knew it wouldn't be long till the old man croaked. But Des wasn't ready to lose the one connection he had in life, his only family.

Des kept himself up for ages with his crew looking into ways to keep him alive, Bronze age was a great villain, leader and asset- he was powerful- his power allowed him to transform into a Brachiosaurus- giving him grand strength and durability.

Des would move away with his group to talk. "Shadow, give me anything...did you find anything!?"

A man with black shades would perk up. "I did, the last person to get this was one of those X-men...we find her, we find a way."

he runs her question over twice - three times , mulling over every word in extensive detail for so long that she might think he was anything but well . eyes shift beneath the frown that sinks heavier into his skin , slowly easing on as seconds roll on 'til there's but a small dimple left between the sentry's eyes . " why would i not be okay ? " there's a hitch of the corner of his lips on the tail end of his query , even a slight lift in his voice . that too would appear different to her now , devoid of stutters and nervous mumbles , confident in place of a wavering pitch that must control itself lest it be heard .

" i'm fine . " and he is . there's no ounce of a lie to peddle it this time , no brief glimpse of eye contact that would tell her he is anything but fine . he maintains eye contact , stretches shoulders that sit confident atop his straightened posture ; he stands taller than he had before , the shift unto something else had been sudden and missed in the blink of an eye .

@psyknife  sent:  how  are  you  holding  up  after  that?  (for  Cloak)

ㅤㅤㅤTy  doesn't  look  up  at  first.  Not  because  he's  being  rude  or  anything,  just...  he's  not  exactly  used  to  people  that  aren't  Tandy  talking  to  him.

ㅤㅤㅤ(Unless,  y'know,  they're  asking  for  a  quick  teleport  through  the  Darkforce  Dimension  or  something.)

ㅤㅤㅤWhen  he  does  lift  his  gaze,  Cloak  is  no  less  surprised  to  find  the  purple-haired  mutant  he  knows  mostly  by  reputation  (and  that  extremely  brief  stint  in  company  with  the  X-Men)  standing  before  him.  She's  shorter  than  him,  but  most  people  are  when  he's  fully  enveloped  in  his  cloak.  Evenso,  she  exudes…  stature.

ㅤㅤㅤ“…Psylocke,  right?  Hey.”  Ty  tips  his  head,  his  gaze  wary  and  half  hidden  by  his  hood,  but  not  unwelcoming.  “Uh,  yea.  I  mean,  I'm  usually  battling  drug  dealers  and  crime  lords,  y'know?  So  maybe  not  in  the  same  league  as  these  Omega  level  bad  guys  you  X-People  face  all  the  time,  but…” 

@psyknife liked the Spiral starter call

"You," the word is plain, but holds so much meaning in Spiral's mouth. She can tell that this is not Betsy, but Kwannon. While Spiral and Betsy reached some form of understanding after Spiral freed herself of Mojo, she wasn't sure if Kwannon was of the same mind to forgive the six armed sorceress for her past transgressions.

Grumpy/Sunshine Starters | accepting

"There's a new bookshop in town!"

The statement slipped out as soon as Kwannon finished asking her question. Mantis approached the woman, beaming smile on her face, visibly happy that she had been given the chance to talk about it.

"Come with me, it'll be fun!"

@psyknife whispered : “ believe me, I know what humans are capable of. ”

dagger remembers ; she remembers the bruising hand around her arms, the cold damp of a basement floor, the searing stab of needle through skin. she remembers the way people looked at her before : hungry, wanting. she has seen into the stained souls of men, felt their deepest desires, known their most coveted secrets   &   she has known their gentleness as well  –  every luminous essence she caresses, full of emotions that ebb and flow like shallow waves upon the heart of man  [ . . . ]  of course, the puerile girl still knows what humans are capable of  ( solicitousness,  violence,  lust,  fear )  and yet, she  slays / saves  them anyway. like an astral angel, stardust-skin outlines languid movements as she crosses arms over a dancer - esq form. she ponders the thought for a passing moment, then two. she tries to be gentle  ( oh,  god  how she tries ).

“ you don't know, ” she says finally, her melodious voice soft like the twinkle of starlight. her words linger in the air, sharp, delicate. “ not really. ” she pauses, as though considering whether to let the euphonious hymn of her truth meet the other, “ i know exactly what they’re capable of  . . .  but that’s not all they are. ”