#verse tbd

"Sure. Right, yeah, of course." Because some ghosts didn't sustain injuries. Which makes him wonder how strong the Grabber actually was, as much as he hated spending any time thinking about that man.

I am not asking for a lot of money, I only need 70 euros to buy a medicine called Depalept to treat muscle spasms for my brother samer.

Vetted by @gazavetters #75

@hazemsuhail

https://gofund.me/79a87a920

He could feel their eyes upon him from across the way and had elected to ignore it until now, standing before him with an indignant look upon their face. The moment they speak his name, Wesker knows that something here isn't right. Looking upon the youth's face he cannot help but feel that he should know this man, but nothing comes to mind.

"Yes," he speaks, an eyebrow raised. "Yes I am. Have we met before?" No, he'd definitely remember someone with eyes as sharp as this one — but still no name comes to mind. It was sitting on the tip of his tongue, burning a hole into his mind; an itch he cannot scratch.

Becca was still learning her way around Stark Tower, not that she minded. This was more space than she'd ever occupied. Well at least since she was young and went to work with her dad at Culver when it was safe to do so. She turned a corner and heard music blaring and smirked. That would be where Tony was...She followed the sounds of AC/DC and used her building ID to enter the lab.

She, as usual, leaned against the door after it slid shut behind her and waited to be noticed, never a good idea to interrupt someone with a soldering iron in both hands after all.

@more-things-in-heaven-hell continued from ☕︎

☕︎ ——— Nova should have known better than volunteering to be on the front lines. Sure, she was born more well equipped than any other sinners there, but it didn't make things any less precarious. Not to mention the fact that she still hadn't come into contact with Lucifer or anyone else that might have known her great grandfather; it was still unclear to her how that situation would go, when she came across it. To her knowledge, he wasn't much of a fan of anyone, so she knew she wouldn't have to worry about any special treatment. Not in any positive light, anyways— she didn't know much about his fall, but she was sure Michael had played a role in it.

But making a name for herself to her fellow sinners was important to what she was trying to do. In order to take vengeance on Heaven, she needed support. What better way to get it than succeeding in building out their home?

She'd have to make it out alive for that, though, and that was proving more of a task than she'd thought it'd be. She'd already had to sew her head back into place once, and she was covered in wounds that would surely only add to her scarred appearance, blood lightly shimmering against grey skin as she pushed further.

That was when she heard a muffled scream of pain, ears twitching towards the direction of the sound before her feet followed. As much as she knew it was a risk, she wasn't getting what she came for without taking those, and it wasn't like she had the option to turn back. When she came upon the boulder she'd heard the sound coming from, her eyes widened as she was met with the fallen angel himself.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!!!

Her eyes fell to the ground, concealing their gem-toned hue from who could only be her King— she couldn't think about family now or ever, and she didn't want him recognizing anything about her. "How can I help?" She asked nervously, chancing it to lift her head just enough to get a look at his wounds from where she stood. It seemed he'd lost a decent amount of blood, but his wounds didn't appear to be shedding much more thanks to the efforts that had brought her to him. She'd have to get a closer look to be absolutely sure, but she wasn't sure she was getting that.

"I know wound care. I can help get you moving again, but I need you to let me," she said, sounding much more sure of herself this time; no matter what the reason, she couldn't just leave him there like this. Glory, the right thing, a favor— nothing mattered but the task at hand.

He had been leaning against the wall, looking bored, until she spoke. Then, Gabriel uncoiled. It was slow and deliberate, every movement showcasing the raw power contained in that massive frame. A smirk played on his lips—not happy, but hungry. He looked at the wine, then at her neck, then at her eyes. He seemed to be calculating exactly how fragile she was.

@illsauver → ( continued from here ).

"No, I'd actually like to explore the moon hypothetical."

There's no more entertaining way to handle a joke than to take it extremely seriously—or so Hakkai believes, anyway. It's gotten him into plenty of adversarial conversations with the company he keeps in the past, but that's exactly why it's so entertaining. He scratches at his chin, deliberately contemplative.

"Law isn't exactly my strong suit, but I'd say, hypothetically… It would really depend on the two people involved, as well as the judicial system they were under and its will and ability to prove beyond a reasonable doubt that this hypothetical man was behind the murder." Like a teacher explaining something to a class of students, he smiles passively, then carries right on. "Of course, a more lax and accusation-based system of justice would likely make the assumption of guilt, since it would actually be quite difficult to fall with enough impact to kill someone with the force a person could deliver with a rock. The more evidence-based the system is, the more this man could probably get away with. And that's not even accounting for the murky laws surrounding neutral territories like space, as well as the complications of particular citizenship…"

He trails off, smiling brightly.

"Of course, this hypothetical man would most definitely become a social pariah once he made it back to Earth either way, so regardless of the official verdict I doubt he'd have a particularly good life afterward. Does that answer your question?"