#threadxsteel

        𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐂𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧’𝐬 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫, he was immediately drawn towards the scar next to her eye. It was an odd placement. He was used to overseeing scars on his peers, the Templars he worked with in the Chantry, his soldiers, and the different Inquisition members. But they were all common places, ones easily brushed over. Cullen brandished scars of his own in uncommon places, specifically the one on his top lip; he often forgot about it until he ran his tongue over it in a nervous manner. He couldn’t help but ask about hers, concerning its strange placement. She seemed dismissive of it, if a bit hesitant to speak about it with her averting gaze. He allowed it to wash by the wayside. 

        ❝ I suppose we all have a few scars that aren’t worth telling, ❞ he reassured in a light, measured tone, but quickly shifted to more important matters. He cleared her throat and crossed his arms over his chestplate. ❝ You’re right. I’m here to inquire about your sparring skills. I’ve heard you fight on horseback? It could prove useful for the Inquisition out on the battlefield. ❞

captain america the first avenger sentence starters || accepting

Those words got his attention. Most of the time the hubbub of camp would fade into the distance while he was reading reports, but those words somehow broke through everything. His head jerked up from the papers he was reading and turned to locate the origin of the plea.

“I would not so idly enter,” Aragorn lowly warned. Careful. Gaze lingering forward, he’d not yet spared the lady beside him a glance. “These folk have long abandoned honor.”

❝So.❞

She was in the stables, as Nox had hoped. Posture as comfortably loose as always, he moved closer, folding his arms as he came to lean against a nearby post. He was smiling.

Riding at a canter towards a group of trees thick with coverage Talbot pats his horse as she catches her breath blowing hard through her nostrils. "That a girl, that a girl.. Shhhh..." He tries to reassure his mare yet she's spooked. She sensed what Talbot noticed a few miles back; they had company. Three men on horseback and they were closing in on them, so far they'd been discrete but in the last mile they appeared to be running out of patience. From a distance he'd seen something silvery with an emblem branded into it and a flash of red. Tal swallows hard as he peers out through the gaps in the trees, sweat on his brow and his throat parched. Hands shaking as they grasp tightly on the reins. Palms sweaty, smeared with dirt and the stench of iron filling his nose. A warm trickle and jolt of pain surging from a wound he'd gained just days prior.

As his pursuers neared he had a clearer view; they were Templars alright. Or at least wore the armour. Watching them as they rode and the way they carried themselves Tal came to the conclusion they were the real deal. Of all the places and routes they just so happened to find him. My luck is running thin it seems... Thinner with each passing day. They appear to stop, talking to one another when Tal notices one of the riders and their horse is not in sight. Breath hitching in his throat he feels a wave of nausea hit him, blinking his eyes rapidly to stay alert he pulls on the reins and catches sight of the missing rider. "Shit!" He curses and charges towards the man, grabbing his sword and swinging it in a neat arc. Crimson droplets marr the greenery underfoot and the rider's body grows limp, hanging from the saddle. The horse panics and gallops out of sight, the two other Templars quickly turning their attention towards the source of distress. Talbot pulls on the reins hard and heads in the opposite direction, complexion pale as he maneuvers throughout the vast and uneven terrain rising and falling at a gallop. Tal wasn't going to stop and ask them what they wanted, as far as he was concerned he wasn't going back to that life.

dragon age starters || accepting 

Steve glanced over before shrugging, moving another box onto the truck. Superhero-ing came in many forms--today, it was volunteering at the local soup kitchen, driving around in their van and collecting donations from various pickup spots. There’d been plenty of people to meet, and each time, he made sure to be as helpful as possible, giving the other volunteers the encouragement they needed. 

moonlight aesthetic starters || not accepting

The last fight had been a bit rough on everyone, Steve included. He’d already cleaned himself off, shedding his uniform in exchange for sweats and a t-shirt. It was while he was putting up his shield that he noticed Lywc tending to her own wounds.