Dec 29, 2020
❛ you know it 𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒉𝒖𝒓𝒕𝒔 𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒏𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉 𝒎𝒚 𝒔𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒔 from when they pulled me apart . ❜
@sintinel sᴄ.
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❛ you know it 𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒉𝒖𝒓𝒕𝒔 𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒏𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉 𝒎𝒚 𝒔𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒔 from when they pulled me apart . ❜
@sintinel sᴄ.
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Picking up papers on her way, she took a glance at each of them. What she could make apart from wet and aged print - pages of a magazine describing Suzuki GSX-R750, and Yamaha FZ750 from 1985, a revolutionary bike with light mesh and most notably: the 5-valve cylinder head with a radial arrangement Good taste. It was one of the models Yui had once hoped to have her hands in second-hand, just to see how far past the limits she could have pushed it. She wasn’t thinking much about it, ruined places often had a fair share of vandalism - old news papers and torn magazines weren’t uncommon. Perhaps, someone in the house was also was a fan of motorcycles - if she was lucky, there might be a vehicle and some gas in the garage.
She was more concerned of some sort of radiation poisoning or inhaling toxic gas emit from the ground. There must have been a reason everyone once evacuated, right? She wasn’t really fan about discovering why. On the other hand, the town reminded her about the sleepy suburbs of Hida, and by thinking about her home town, hands clenched into fists. More than grudge, it was homesickness now awoken by this place. But it it wasn’t directed at the physical place she could have once called home. It was her grandmother, who she owed to pay respects, thank her posthumously for being the ground stone to her success. But thought about encountering her father again for some odd coincidence, distressed her.
Locked. No one fleeing with a vehicle would take time to do that. She pocketed her hands and walked backwards while observing the garage door - pondering if it was breakable, or if she should take time to go carefully through the three bedroom family home. The first option wasn’t a problem, as she believed to be the only thing alive in the fog. But as she began to work with the lock, she slowly began to pay attention to the sound that first was just a mere background ambient... growing stronger and stronger, until she had this sudden feeling of threat, somewhere she couldn’t see.
❝ Hey asshole! ❞ She immediately got up, staring into the misty veil that blocked her view. Squeezing the rock tight in her hand, ready to throw it towards the direction any sound would come. It could be just another survivor - maybe. But the way they approached wasn’t one of her liking. Had she sworn any new creep would be the one to fear her. She took steps towards, as if showing she wasn’t going to act like a prey. ❝ I’m not going to play any games here... face to face me, then I’ll talk. Else... ❞ playing with the rock, she continued staring, waiting. || @sintinel liked!
14 & 25 !
A Peek At What’s Inside Their...
14 - Computer home screen
Your usual shit -- recycling bin, shortcuts to web browsers and a couple other basic applications. It’s also just littered with images she’s saved and has yet to sort, and word documents with little notes and ideas written down. Most of them have keysmash titles or are just New Text Document (5). The background image is probably this because she simps for Florence Welch.
25 - Five most recent in google search history
how to fall asleep fast
can you put milk in a coffee maker
venus fly trap care
live crickets
what do crickets taste like
#i love that kaidan has a blasto mug bc i fucking promise u he bought it to spite noma
noma: narrows her eyes @ him over her own coffee mug
he doesn't need antlers when he's got a whole damn suit, white wig and elastic beard included, and he may or may not be indulging himself in a midnight snack of cookies and milk while he waits for her to come back from re-tucking the children into bed. not that he's been entirely idle in her absence, evidenced by the sprig of mistletoe that he's hung above the little table. a splitting grin as she returns, an upward glance, a bend forward as she follows to claim her mouth. ❝ ¡feliz navidad! ❞
EVER SINCE THEY HAD KIDS, christmas has seemed magical in a way that noma hasn’t experienced ever since she stopped believing in santa herself. kaidan is as much the reason for that as the kids are: david and tegan might be the ones that believe in him, but kaidan’s the one that puts the kids’ presents under the tree with her --- not to MENTION the fake footprints leaving a trail of snow from the fireplace. thus, as soon as she spots the mistletoe she LAUGHS, a hushed noise in an attempt to try not to wake the kids again, but her arms wrap around his neck and she presses a firm kiss to his lips.
‘ feliz navidad, ’ she murmurs in response, a warm smile creeping onto her lips before she presses another kiss to his lips. when she pulls away, their lips are only inches apart. ‘ i love you, you big dork. ’
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commander shepard requires a delicate touch, and so he foregoes his faux antlers for a simple sprig of mistletoe between thumb and forefinger that he nigh cradles to his chest as he approaches. ❝ commander. ❞ he maintains a relative composure, takes her hands into his own and sets the sprig within a palm, closes her fingers 'round it. a brave man, he presses their compounded hands atop the space of his heart, and leans inward to press a kiss to the corner of her mouth. ❝ merry christmas. ❞
THE TREE WITH THE ICICLE LIGHTS & TINSEL & CHROME ORNAMENTS IN THE ROOM IS PLASTIC. Cadmium red & verdant green reflect glass window like tiny ENTITIES in a display of showmanship that rival the distant stars in the BIG EMPTY on the opposite side. Delightful perfumed mint & spices ; orange & nutmeg & cinnamon floods into the room before the PNEUMATIC hiss of the doors open & is followed by steps that makes the COMMANDER turn on her heels to face sweater-wearing Kaidan.
The way he says her name makes her eyes FLASH, her spine runs cold & then warm. Lids halfway veil her bright brown eyes as if she is traversing into unknown territory. & she wants to know why. The scent becomes stronger the closer he gets & his hand touches her, placed gently onto the bones of her fingers where CALLOUSED skin is stretched taut a serrated leaf dressed with tiny red berries. A Christmas relic with an amiable implication. A lowered chin & a jutted crown of crimson hair with SIENNA peering up at him from straight-cut fringes.
Palms & mistletoe burrows into yarn ( he is surprisingly hot-blooded ——— but he is also homely! ) tips of her nails feel the fuzziness & the texture craftsmanship that has went into making such a domestic piece of fashion ; where his heart pulses & pumps RED BLOOD into his veins. The pace is fluttery —— fast like a rabbit’s. Anxiety. She is deemed lucky he does not test her pulse for it may mirror! Before she could ACTIVELY speak, his mouth touches the convex corner of her lilac-painted lips, spilling his feelings as carelessly as ever. Lucille cannot help but allow something that constitutes for a grin crawl along her stern & scarred features.
❝ ——— Merry Christmas, Kaidan.❞ there is a lilt to her tone, heavier & yet velvet.