#siiinfully

hey lets play how hot is that character

@siiinfully

Not My Type | Alright | Cute | Adorable | Pretty | Gorgeous | LORD MERCY

" Asset reallocation is the actual term." Though that sounded dubious. No doubt he pocketed the diamonds from the dead man.

She slipped seamlessly into her role, offering Bond quiet assessments, leaning just close enough to appear trustworthy, but never close enough to betray the truth. Le Chiffre admired the precision of her performance. It took discipline to stand beside a man they were both working to mislead, and even more discipline to maintain the illusion under Bond’s relentless scrutiny.

Le Chiffre kept his face still, but internally he marked every coded hint she gave him. The slight tilt of her chin meant Bond believed he was gaining ground. Her smallest gestures were messages carved in the language only the two of them spoke, an entire conversation threading through the silence of the poker room. Le Chiffre saw a partner keeping pace with him perfectly, each of them tightening the net around their target from opposite sides.

If Bond suspected anything at all, it was that Le Chiffre himself was manipulating the table, not that the woman he trusted most was completing the illusion.

The game continued, but from Le Chiffre’s vantage point it was already tilting in his favour. Every chip Bond pushed forward landed exactly where Le Chiffre and his wife had planned. They were two predators circling the same prey, pretending, convincingly, to be strangers. Their deception was elegant. Efficient.

And Bond, razor-sharp though he was, never thought to look at the person sitting closest to him. He spoke for a moment to acknowledge his wife; subtly and daringly so. "Such a beautiful woman on your arm tonight. She must be your lucky charm..."

Closed RP w/ @siiinfully

The Giddy Griffon was a popular tavern and pub near the outskirts of the town. Named for the large stuffed creature mounted on the wall behind the bar, it was a place that attracted all the most gruff and surly types that passed through—grizzled mountaineers, shady mercenaries, and mythic adventurers—all looking for some place to kick their feet up and just have some fun.

Such was the case on this night, with most of the bar filled with raucous laughter and lilting music. The drinks poured freely, and all the tables were crowded with men and women enjoying the merriments of the night—all, except, for a single corner booth, off to the back. There, sat by himself, was a man in full and heavy plate mail, and a foreboding style, to be sure. His very appearance was enough to keep most of the merry-makers at a distance, so he sat alone, with his mostly untouched cup. Alone, and silent.

Setsuna groaned, a deep growl leaving him. He been buried, but suddenly he was awake. His body felt strange, a new power flowing through it. He light filtered in from above, and his skin was darker, his profle wider and stronger. He had claws and wings on his back. What had happened to him?

The crew, or what was left of it, of the Mantis had tracked what they believed to be a Sith Lord though the galaxy all the way to the Alderaan system. It took a second to believe they had the right coordinates. Alderaan wasn't known for harbouring Sith, senator Organa himself had spent a lot of time working against that side but yet here it was. Night had fallen when Cal caught the glimpse of what he believed to be the robes of a Sith walking down a seemingly empty street and into an alleyway. It seemed like they were walking in the direction of a senator's house. Cal was at odds. Did he follow them or did he make his presence known and hopefully save the senator from a horrible fate in the dead of night. Deciding the latter Cal ignites his lightsaber in the dark alley. "You picked the wrong alleyway tonight." For the love of the force he needed to come up with better one-liners, even BD let out a low disappointment chirp at that.