Mar 16, 2016
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[ york // 1:00am ] come over & make me.
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[ york // 1:00am ] come over & make me.
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THERE IS NOTHING TO THIS WORLD BUT THE HATRED OF GOD.
‘ ya ready to DIE? you fuckin little bitch?’
|to OPPOSE him is the same as opposing a conflagration.| he stood before a bubbling mass, twining a blade against his throat.| to OPPOSE him is the same as courting the devil.| coarse language falling q u i c k l y , his vacant hand curls, & takes itself against the man’s STOUT visage. ‘ ya think your so clever don’t ya?’ to his process there is no thought only instinct, only the voice of his gut, p u l l i n g him to RASH decisions. |to OPPOSE him is the same as dancing with quietus..|
Starter for @yorksmith
δ|| Delta didn’t trust Tex. He knew she had to be hiding something. Yet he wanted to meet the Alpha.... The AI he had been created from. Was that so hard to understand?
They had failed in trying to find him and now ... They couldn’t return to the Mother Of Invention.
Delta materialized beside York. “Agent York, I am not sure what you intend for us to do now. It would be impossible to return to the Mother Of Invention and my analysis shows it would be extremely difficult to stay out on this planet.”
( continued from here. )
conversation: (d/p)ork
[ text ; SENT ] quit while ur ahead lmfao [ text ; SENT ] it means come forward, my love [ text ; SENT ] hey listen. did i ever tell u how much i love u
wtf do number 7 for the voice thing
Send me a number/numbers and I’ll make a video of me doing it! Come on guys I’m bored.
Do the rains in Spain stay mainly on the plains?
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&. @yorksmith
❝ it’s gonna take a little more than THAT to frighten me, kid. ❞ one thing snake’s learned to have nothing of is shame. especially when it comes to something as simple as getting caught stealing weapons. if he really wanted them, he thinks, he would have been gone already -- though, that’s not to underestimate the man before him. this one looks ... dangerous. he likes that.
North awakes in the middle of the night, sitting up and pulling away from where he and York had laid down for the night; it wasn’t much, but it was a home. He’s covered in sweat, nervous, shaking with a chill running through his frame. Nausea is overcoming him, tearing him apart from every seam.
Something isn’t right.
Something happened to South.
He can’t be certain how he knows it, but deep down, he knows that something is amiss; that his sister has been hurt.
He knows that she’s dead. His connection to her is gone, just completely gone, and he feels hollow without even knowing for sure. So he drags himself up to wash his face, scrub the dirt and grime in the paltry little sink. Staring back at him is the shadow of a man he once was; it’s pathetic how far he’s let himself fall.
In minutes he’s suiting up, pulling all his armor back on because if he gets the call, any call at all in the next few days, he needs to be ready to go. Three calls have gone unanswered, the voice on the other end of the line saying the device is off; which in itself is weird enough.
North knows he’s going to be leaving this place very soon, he just doesn’t know why.
Well he does; he just hopes that he’s wrong.
🍸 drink up on that vodka nORTH DO IT
For every 🍸 I receive, my muse will drink an alcoholic drink.
Again, he pours a second double vodka, downing the glass in one solid drag.
“You really don’t think you can drink me under the table, do you?”