#silverskins

Critical Role Sentence Starters

     He stands hovering above what could be best described as a human pile-up, a what he hopes to be apologetic ghost of a smile briefly flickering across his features, “ My apologies-They were about to go through with the transaction while you were away, so I figured I ought to take the initiative.” 

     He feels the tug on his cape, glancing down to see a barely-conscious Fisk Associate trying his best to get one last shot in, causing the synthezoid’s form to shimmer into a ghostly wireframe and disappear into the pile, solidifying his density just enough to yank the goon’s head against the pavement-- Just enough for him to go back into unconsciousness-- before reappearing back up several feet away. 

“ shut up , silver. “ 

the way the name falls out of her mouth is just full of love — full of the bubbly , bubble , bubblegum hellcat voice she puts on. be somebody a kid would feel safe around , that ‘ s the belief trish subscribes to. it ‘ s the easiest gauge. if your attitude would make a pre - k aged child cry , you ‘ re an awful hero. and trish doesn ‘ t want to be an awful hero. she has always wanted to be a superhero , and everyone would love her. and who couldn ‘ t love the h - e - double - hockey - sticks cat ? 

tonight she ‘ s awake and alive and the night air is biting and freezing and her cowl keeps her snug and her temperature comfy ( the tech in this suit is ridiculous — stark never disappoints ) and her eyes , a freakish jade , flash in the light , glimmer like a mirror reflective. she can see the silver lining perfectly , can hear her with sharp , newborn ears. not there yet , but she ‘ s adjusting. 

“ i like to keep my little victories. they ‘ re so small. i build a tiny little tower too high for anyone to get into with them. “ 

her gloves move — hilariously new york — as she speaks. the hellcat ‘ s teasing , of course. 

“ i ‘ ll take point. i have an upper - hand here. “ 

“jesus, ana,” foggy’s standing in his living room in his underwear and a ratty old columbia t-shirt that he can’t be bothered to throw away. the key feature of his ensemble, however, is the aluminum bat he’s wielding in both hands. “you’re lucky i didn’t hit you with this!” as if it would have made a difference, “how the hell did you get in?” his best guess is the fire escape window that he usually leaves unlocked for matt. “when did this become a halfway house for wayward vigilantes? does everyone in new york just know to come visit chez nelson, or what?” he slowly lowers the bat as his pulse returns to a normal level - between both matt and ana, foggy’s certain he’s going to end up in an early grave. 

that’s gonna be @inmydrcams, @silverskins, and @pilotslegacy !

nisa and i used to write a ton on my carlos (who i miss.... i’m being enabled to write him again, if you say anything i might crack), and we haven’t gotten to write here yet but! it’s been so amazing to have you on my dash again. i love your shitposting and threads and how much energy (and spite) you put into your characters. i’m so glad i met you on carlos and i still get to have you now!

omfg zoey. you shitposting on my dash is perfect every time, and ana is such a fabulously written original character. barry and her share the braincell and it’s such a good dynamic. really though, you’ve put an insane amount of work in, and the interview thread is one of my favorite threads ever because getting to pick into barry’s head is so interesting. i am SO glad to have you on my dash. AND WE STILL NEED TO PLAY ANIMAL CROSSING. 

     “   you are out of your god damn head.   “   he pointed at the bike.     “   that is not fucking happening.    i refuse to see footage of myself riding bitch in a high speed chase on my own god damn news channel tomorrow morning.   “     

     “  i gotta ask: isn’t that --- corset cutting off your circulation?  ”  personally, there’s nothing like flexibility to be on her side. but to run around in something that’s so constricting is a whole other level of ‘comfort’ that she hasn’t exactly... mastered.  “  not that i’m judging, it looks great. just, y’know, with the whole vigilante thing, i thought you’d be a little more cozy. ”

@silverskins​  said      :      "i love you," she whispered in a panicked breath, wet hair sticking to her face as she clung onto arthur as if it were life or death. the pair floating along the surface of the surrounding ocean, she found herself nuzzling her face into the crook of his neck, afraid if she were to lose her grip now, she might just sink without him. // it's fine!!!!!!! status      :     EXCUSE  ME      .

 his  breaths  are  shallow      ,      even  in  the  familiar      ,      salted  surface  of  this  seawater      .      it’s  not  from  the  exertion  of  shooting  them  all  the  way  up  from  atlantis  that  has  him  breathing  so  hard      .      one  arm  is  wound  so  firmly  around  her  waist  that  he  might  squeeze  her  to  bursting  if  he  tightens  his  grip  any  more      .      but  he  can’t  help  himself      .      she  had  nearly  died  down  there                   she  had  almost  drowned      .      if  he  hadn’t  noticed  orm  glancing  toward  her      ,      if  he  hadn’t  followed  that  gaze      ,      if  he  hadn’t  noticed  ana  floating      ,      so  terrifyingly  listless      ,      in  the  water                  she  wouldn’t  be  here  right  now      .      her  body      ,      maybe      ,      but  none  of  her  consciousness      ,      none  of  her  life      .      and  if  that  had  happened      ,      he  doesn’t  know  what  he  would’ve  done      .      how  could  he  have  been  so  stupid      ?

 it’s  in  the  quiet  waters      ,      in  the  wide  open  surface  of  the  seas      ,      no  land  visible  in  any  direction      ,      that  she  whispers  her  words      .      he’s  not  sure  he’s  heard  her  right  at  first      .      think  it’s  only  the  gentle  sea  wind  that  whispers  it  past  his  ears      .      but  it  was  in  ana’s  voice      ,      and  he  knows  somewhere  in  himself  that  it  was  her      .      it  couldn’t  be  anyone  else      .

 blinking      ,      he  looks  off  to  the  wavering  horizon      .      his  grip  on  her  loosens  but  doesn’t  leave  her      .      she  feels  so  fragile  in  his  arms      ,      and  he  feels  so  …  shocked      .      the  adrenaline  and  the  threat  of  near  death  had  made  her  say  it      .      but  soon      ,      his  free  hand  moves  up  her  back      ,      running  fingers  his  fingers  along  her  hair      .      a  few  feet  away  floats  her  helmet      ,      but  he  couldn’t  care  less  about  it                  he  only  cares  to  nuzzle  his  jaw  against  her  hair      .      is  he  ready  to  say  it      ,      he  wonders      ?      she’s  grown  on  him  the  way  no  one  else  has      .      of  course  he  is      .      he  had  interrupted  his  speech  just  to  bring  her  back  up  here      .      the  people  can  wait      :      saving  the  woman  he  loves  never  can      .

@silverskins

     BACK turned to her at a disadvantageous vantage point, the nearsoundless footsteps’ approach was heard but not extended  immediate  notice. their respective nightly schedules rarely involved intertwined paths, reciprocal to one another when it came to  ethical  intention and private enough to inspire a healthy sense of mystery. conversations could wait until morning, granting each other  ample  time to digest the events of the evening and provide a  conducive  foundation for sociability over a cup of morning coffee. expectations were established but still, he wouldn’t  turn  down  the chance to see her if the opportunity presented itself; sometimes, he’d just play a little  harder  to get.

     heightened senses notwithstanding, an  instinctual  feeling arose and forewarned him of her presence; his delay in greeting her, however, ultimately gave her the perfect opportunity to languidly drag her finger along his spine —– just as high as their height difference allowed, but long enough for the feather-light touch to warrant his attention. his hand seized hers as if by reflex, enough to likely  instigate  a fight-or-flight reaction of her own had his grip not held her tight. although his countenance feigned an air of  disapproval  and pending censure, the theatrics didn’t last long enough for her to doubt hissense of humour.

     a  shameless  grin eventually grew in his amusement’s wake as theoffending finger was held securely in his care, unwilling to grant mercy as he lifted her hand higher to meet his lips for a kiss. the words that followed sounded like a threat but all signs pointed otherwise – the same  playfulness  found in the bed of his smile and the way his thumb brushed with purpose along the edge of her fingers.  if the affectionate gesture had lacked its blatant  facetiousness  and wasn’t  laden  with cheek, it may have been reminiscent of a gesture found only in the  quixotic  realms of  romantic  novellas.  

                                    ( NO SUCH LUCK. )