#wurmbabe

@wurmbabe​ sent: 🔪 ( Vespa !! ) || knife to the throat

     Just as surprising as it is to round the corner and be halted by a rather sharpened knife to her throat, her hand had been just as swift to grasp the one Juno had given her some days ago, seeming to find herself with her knife at the other’s throat at quite near the same exact moment to the second. Something about needing more close-range weaponry versus just her rather aged colt. Least, she already knew how to use a knife herself compared to these futuristic blasters.

     Gaze flickers from the knife at her throat, to the one she holds at the other, dark brows furrowing at their features,. Well, description wise they seem rather familiar. . .

     “You know, might I just say - you have some wonderful fashion.”

      the leonin looks to nevi, expression somewhat unreadable. perhaps the other could read his current state by the way he held himself — perhaps nevi just knew him well enough. in truth, it didn’t really matter. taavi exhales, reaching up to scratch idly at his neck. it’s very obvious that he’s gathering his thoughts before offering anything in response. after a few, long seconds, he finally breaks that uncertain silence. 

      ❝ it’s not that easy, ❞ he huffs. brows gather together slightly, making that internal struggle all the more obvious. it was no secret that taavi often considered himself responsible whenever a member of their party was caught in melee, regardless of offered words of comfort. that protective instinct was so thoroughly engrained in him that he didn’t know who he’d be without it. 

@wurmbabe​ said : “i’ve always been one to say i told you so.” [ from Elias ] | POETRY SNIPPETS STARTERS.

                    THE DOOR SHUDDERS ON IT’S HINGES, the bright yellow contrasts dull professional wallpaper of elias’ office. it had been watching over the archival assistant, interfering. it has to do with michael, the distortion knows there are parts of itself it cannot shake off. not yet. soon. it’s face shifts, eyes flickering over features, eyes that certainly weren’t elias’. he knew that, even before his becoming.   “ mmm . . . a pity about the girl . . . she was a bit too smart for it though. ”   archival assistants have a quality to them, a naivety, it thinks idly. the NotThem . . .it had been amusing to watch, though a part of michael deep down throught perhaps it would mourn her, once it was tucked neatly in the labyrinth of the spiral again.  

" this is total bollocks. you've actually gone mad. " ( Eric to Gertrude )

                    COLD GAZE LANDS ON DELANO, those eyes are almost cutting, certainly not the same look she would give many as the kind little old lady, the act is dropped irritation replacing what would be kindness. gertrude does not hold enough empathy to lose the belief that the good of the many is worth more than the good of the one, even when that one is gerard keay.   “ he volunteered to come with me, to help... ”    there are perks to finding a boy with a love for a world he never knew. she isn’t sure what eric expected, what he though she might do to look out for his son. apparently this wasn’t it. she looks at the boy asleep in his hospital bed, burns across his hands peaking out from beneath wrapping, his disaster of dyed hair spread across pillow, bright gold roots are growing out, he’d hate that, wouldn’t he ?   perhaps the barest hint of a smile teases the old woman’s lips before she turns back to him.    “ besides, you did ask me to look after him. ”   she reminds the echo, she hadn’t intended for it to go this way.

send me ✄ for my muse to write a “your fave is problematic” post about yours