#trickiz

" WHA— " Rogue turns around quickly, narrowly escaping having her head taken clean off while still managing to sent flying and eating shit. She hastily gets herself off the ground, hood falling off as she takes in the new situation she finds herself in. Ah shit, her nose was probably broken. No super strength sucked SHIT. She doesn't bother with the blood, instead taking off her gloves and pocketing them.

𝐋𝐎𝐈𝐒 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐘𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐌 𝐔𝐏𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐘 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐅𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐑𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐑. the  daily  planet  is  a  ghost  town  at  three  in  the  morning,  the  dark  office  only  lit  by  the  blue  of  her  computer.  (  she'd  been  in  and  out  of  sleep  ...  twenty  -  minute  power  -  naps  followed  by  five  minutes  of  erasing  the  jumble  of  letters  her  face  imprinted  on  the  keyboard.  )

there's  a  small  shadow,  and  the  creak  of  a  door  she  couldn't  be  bothered  to  hear.  little  pawed  feet  that  tentatively  sneak  onto  her  desk.  pious  +  elegant,  just  as  lois  knew  her  late  -  night  visitor  to  be.

" welcome  back,  mister  whiskers  !  "  lois  seems  to  take  a  complete  character  pivot.  loopy  from  lack  of  sleep,  and  emboldened  by  her  loneliness,  haphazard  hands  scoop  up  a  feline  @trickiz  into  an  aggressive,  but  nonetheless  loving  embrace.  her  knees  are  pulled  up  to  her  chest,  making  a  cozy  pocket  for  'mister  whiskers'  to  reside  ---  caught  between  her  lap  and  her  chest,  leaving  her  hands  free  to  type.

positivity | ACCEPTING.

absolutely OBSESSED with what dimitri has done with the joker!!!! i adore john waters and divine and camp in general so the fact that they're doing what everyone else is too afraid to do with this oversaturated character and breathe new life into him is SO FUCKING COOL. please please please follow them, it's a must.

❝ You are correct. It should not have to be me. ❞

Cautious was the witch meant to be in the presence of All Stories To Be Told. Not in 'deference' to their former (upcoming? current?) expression and existence as deception, mind you.

Diana held no hatred, nor fear in her heart for who they used to be. All the kosmos had been in another state at one point, and no amount of concern nor ire would see the hands on the clock rocking backwards toward what had been carved in stone.

No. Cautious was the witch meant to be because the allegiances of the divine were, more often than naught, against her and her progress. Meant to stifle her growth, impede her learning, bind her to silence and ignorance. Hekate herself implored the hardheaded girl to be cautious should she run afoul of any who'd supped on starlight.

And yet?

❝ I would not see it left in another's hands. Not even for a heartbeat. ❞

Admission offered o'er the sound of gold-fused porcelain settling on marble tabletop. Diana had prepared her finest brew for her guest. A rarity Circe had only taught her of, but never brewed as ambrosia was impossible to come by in the underworld.

Who better to uncork such divine favor for? Who better to share her feelings with?

" that old saying isn't true, you know: flattery won't, in fact, get you everywhere. but in your case, my dear loki, it may very well get you far enough. "

but  that  was  what  he's  always  LOVED  about  mx.  loki.  always  knew  style.  a  wide  grin  spread  across  his  gloss  red  lips  as  he  swung  his  legs  back  to  the  front  of  the  throne.