oc rp blog

and i’ll be doing a huge overhaul with new urls & posting them ‘n stuff.

waiting on a phone call from the bae.

i will see ya’ll later.

i will be whittling away drafts on @georgianmedhead before i get to that point--- and i don’t know when i’ll be on again. i just kinda felt like hopping on to do stuff.

me: “i have always hated totino’s party pizza because it tastes like cheese on cardboard”

my sister: “since wHEN”

    “Whatever would I do without your astute fashion advice?”  Keira eyed the warlock with a faint smile on her features. “I need a bit of help,” Keira took a seat, shaking her head gently, “I’ve been faced with a rather frustrating issue, and there are so few that I can trust.”

“No, I don’t,” Jack insisted as he curled into Lucifer’s arms. It was like a genie being let out of the bottle - even though he wasn’t being coaxed into answering anymore, he couldn’t particularly seem to stop either. “No, I deserve to rot in hell for the things I’ve done.”

“Jack,” he whispered, determined to help the other as best as he could, “I rule hell. You’re a better man than most who go down there. If you were to die, I know my Father would let you rest in eternal happiness and bliss. You’ve had so many bullet holes in you, Captain, that I know you’re holy. And if you were to get damned, I, for one, would not be able to bring myself to punish you.”

  She wasn’t about to let up and give him much room to make any sudden movement. It was quite abrupt. how he’d arrived so suddenly, the air about him seeming to flutter with threat. 

  “Sorry to tell you that I don’t know your brother. And I’m not aware of any cosplay conventions or renaissance faires around. So you should likely explain yourself if you’d like to get moving on with your night, sir.” He made her uneasy- was it that wicked smirk perched upon his lips? Or the way his ever confident words flowed off his tongue so smooth, like a snake through grass, ready to strike. 

  “A shame, then,” he murmured, as if breaking out of an “accent”, and then he was leaning forward, speaking in an American dialect, “I was so damn intrigued if you would pick upon my act.” Loki’s brow rose as he drew nearer to her, as he moved the scepter in his grip to press against her cheek.

“I… I…” Revan groans pitifully. “… Can it wait until I’m not suffering from a hangover?”

Jack’s smile softened, feeling more hopeful than he had in a long, long while. He kept his hand on Henry’s back, heading towards the street to try and flag down a taxi to take them back to Henry’s and save his poor bare feet.

“You know, I think I’d like that. We got a lot to talk about, and I’m hoping a lot of time to hear it too.”

By the time the taxi pulled up, Henry was nodding, going into a tiny spiel about he had, theoretically, forever. He was slightly cold, though Jack’s warmth helped him an incredible amount. It was indescribable. 

“We do have quite a lot,” he murmured, smirking, “and I think we will.”