#twistedfortunes

@twistedfortunes asked:

this is not the way. (From Book, for whoever you'd like)

"There is no way, old man." Out of some kind of respect, Leela did remove her knife from her victim's throat, only to bludgeon him with the hilt. The guard dropped to the floor at her feet. She frowned at the preacher as she sheathed her weapon.

                The man smirked lightly over the counter at his hopeful paycheck for the week. Nationalist though he may be, he was not quite so intolerant to turn away a poor traveler. Unless that traveler was too poor to pay.

__________ ❈          ❛   NEW  TO  LONDON  ??      OH  HEAVENS  NO,       BUT  IT  IS      the  first trip i’ve made in   many  years.       my husband’s   BUSINESS   finally brought us back.   ❜

aesthetic meme

@twistedfortunes

          ‘ don’t. i know the sales pitch already, and i don’t want any part of it. go have your little war, play soldier, die, whatever. i don’t care. i just want to be very far away when that happens. ’ she’s putting up the new maps for winter, one that shows which trails are closed and which ones are still open, and she’s straining like so elegant a willow tree to catch that last corner. ‘ it’s a shame, anansi. i thought you trickster types were meant to be smart. ’

       “good evening, tevye,” mendel greets, carefully shutting his book. (mentally, he apologizes to the story for having to close it; he’ll get back to you later, he promises.) “how is your fortune ?? and your family ?? good, i hope.” 

       “what brings you by ?? ----if you’re looking for the rabbi, he is resting.”

          -- The warm weather of the island agreed with her, and the soft               breeze the ocean brought reminded her of home. So it was never               a peculiar sight to see Emilia sitting in the court yard while her lady               rested, working on her embroidery.

As she attempted to stir up a response for any of his words, the young Crawley struggled to while trembling at the same time. It was all too much for her to handle. Perhaps it wasn't the right place or time for the news; but the sooner the better... at least that's what Mary had spoken about when Veronique had told her. With her mother out on an afternoon tea; she didn’t dare RUIN the time out.

Her fingers fiddled in front of her, of course she was anxious- who wouldn’t be? But indeed she knew it was her fault; or so she believed. The night in the kitchen was a memory burned in the back of her mind. It was a foolish idea of not retrieving a glass of water without the downstairs help. But couldn’t it have happened to anyone else too? At least they would’ve been more aware than the youngest, naive child of the Crawley’s. It was only easy, wasn’t it? To become the victim because of her age, her purity, her child-like abilities at this age. It made her seem to be the easiest target. Indeed, which Veronique had blamed on herself.