#xrrvn

⇢ random lyrics from various songs     source: ☓ —— accepting: yes. —— ( xrrvn )

Send me a ❣ and I’ll gauge my character’s attraction to yours at this point in time.

✉: Do they tend to rely on words or actions more?

Depending on the situation, the consulting detective would either rely on the actions or the words of another. In his line of work, deceit and lies is a common thing to happen especially when someone doesn’t want him snooping around for answers.

♡: Is there a certain scent that brings about nostalgia? If so, describe a memory this scent brings back.

As cliche as it may sounds, the smell of a freshly brewed pot of coffee is a nostalgic scent for the twenty-five year old. As a frequent patron at cafes and an avid coffee drinker himself, there are many memories he can associate with this specific aroma.

One memory he can recall was the night of his first “official stakeout”. He was interning with mentor, a highly respectable law enforcement official, during the summer of his third year as a university student. Although it was a long night, one that was filled with many cups of coffee and interesting conversations, he would always associate those fond memories with the two men bonding over coffee.

۞: Are there any inner demons they can never seem to get rid of? What are they?

≡  …"As a matter of fact, I could claw your face off right now." She hissed at him, but, of course, it was nothing but threats that won’t happen.

How it happened exactly, he doesn't know.  The thought itself just seem too bloody absurd to even spend precious seconds on.  The laws of this world just don't seem to apply anymore to either of them as Ivon stares at her with pursued lips, straight line trying to conceal the desire to burst out laughing right there, trying to think of something intelligent to say that won't end up being a joke.

He wasn't there when it happened, having left in the morning after he prepared a minimalistic breakfast for her to make up for the douche-y move he pulled on her, albeit Raven used to it. He got a call however, a few hours laters, while he was on the toilet reading a book and trying to convience himself there are far better locations in the house to do this, full of curses and panicked shouts, giving him quite the hard time to decipher what exactly she was talking about. Looking in retrospective, it would've been better if he hadn't done so.

Staring at her, he realises there's nothing that may be a hint this isn't just another weird ass dream he's having, not being able to realise it isn't the reality itself but a creation of his deranged mind attempting to shoo away the boredom that has been looming around him for these past few weeks, a shadow he isn't proud of and detests more than anything.