YOU DID THIS TO ME.

      this newfound independence was something he was eager, albeit nervous, to embrace, but didn’t know how to handle.  there were countless circumstances where the decision that he felt was best... well, wasn’t, but that didn’t stop him from making them.  for someone who spends the majority of their life crushed safely beneath someone’s thumb, their freedom is something they’re not immediately equipped to handle, and after being abandoned by the council  ( his father had all but abandoned him long ago )  he’s thrust into the fray and forced to become more than an obedient, parroting caricature of old values and procedures. 

      the  cold  night  air   is  nothing  he’s  not  accustomed  to,  wind  often  biting  at  open  lacerations  after  a  bar  brawl  gone  south  and  clothes  damp  with  blood  that’s  only  partially  his.  the  abject  shame  is  gone  –  he  no  longer  has  to  skulk  back  home,  tail  tucked  between  his  legs  like  a  wounded  animal  –  but  there’s  a  certain  wariness  that’s  settled  in  the  pit  of  his  stomach,  weighing  heavy  like  a  stone.  

      there’s  no  logical  reason  for  them  to  have  bonded  after  the  tragic  events  of  the  opera  and  all  the  lives  it  claimed,  but  none  the  less,  he’s  found  himself  acting  as  a  protective  escort  detail  for  a  teenager  who,  much  like  himself,  had  very  little  left  in  this  world,  and  he  keeps  an  ever - vigilant  eye  on  their  surroundings.  he  knows  more  than  he’d  ever  admit  about  how  dangerous  this  city  could  be  at  night.  

     silently,  he  trails  after  her,  eyeing  the  various  graves  and  their  weather - worn  names  with  naught  but  a  passing  glance.  had  they  always  been  so  depressing?  the  mausoleum  towers  over  them  soon  enough,  and  he  notes  an  air  of  hesitation  in  her  movements,  the  way  her  pale  fingers  instinctively  curl  around  the  handle  of  her  satchel.  the  gesture  is  familiar ;  his  own  often  curl  into  fists  when  he’s  agitated,  blunt  nails  digging  half - crescents  into  his  palms.  

take the quiz & post your results.  remember to repost, not reblog! tagged by:  @overindulges​  xoxo ;^) tagging:   whoever’s interested.

ethan is a snake.

sensitive  /  inventive  /  meticulous  /  unemotional  /  nervous

     they are forced to slink through life in a solitary quest for warmth and acceptance.  shy and insecure, they must keep a low profile to avoid the disapproving glances and teasing of others.   [ ... ]  snakes have learned to express themselves through their art.  whether writers, moviemakers or painters, they are obsessively meticulous about their craft.   [ ... ] but the snake recoils from the glare of publicity, and its behavior becomes even more erratic than usual. 

lauren is a badger.

small  /  protective  /  passionate  /  blunt  /  aggressive

    what distinguishes them from their relatives is their extraordinary physical and emotional strength and tenacious approach to life's challenges.  good looking, small to medium sized individuals, they walk and talk as if they own the world and back down for no one, not even the much larger personality of the lion.  they will confidently enter the territory of others -- woe betide anyone who blocks their path. 

    badgers stay in shape with regular physical activity and are well dressed and precisely groomed.  their competitive natures drive them to the edges of their abilities.  because of their small size, they sometimes feel the need to assert themselves to gain the respect accorded the larger carnivores.  however, the badger's tendency to bite off more than it can chew often results in an overestimation of its capabilities.  with the heart of a tiger, tenacity is both their greatest asset and biggest downfall.

munday color asks. 

yellow.  a food that makes me happy. 

     mie goreng!  it’s a primarily indonesian / malaysian spicy noodle dish with chicken, egg and onions.  there aren’t a lot of places that sell it, aside from the food court in a korean market on the way downtown.           

black.  a book recommendation. 

     most recently, i read touch & go by lisa gardner and thoroughly enjoyed it.  i’ve always had a hardcore taste for thriller novels  ( the likes of patterson, scottoline, king, ware )  and as such, i’m very critical of them because i generally know their formulas inside and out.  this one was pretty predictable for me, but i liked it enough that i didn’t care.  what struck me about gardner’s work was that i wasn’t at all interested in the detective’s chapters, as i usually am, but the captives had me so engrossed that i actually got irritated when i had to put it down.  

     there’s something so poetic about watching a picture perfect family fall apart behind the scenes, with every member shrouded in lies and secrecy.  the captive-based chapters, told from the wife’s perspective, are so wonderfully written and touch on so many emotions and overarching themes / motifs that carry throughout the novel, most notably addiction and depression.  her writing style is very simplistic, which i always appreciate, but what it lacks in words, it makes up for in weight. 

     a quick lil’ excerpt i liked: 

     she  knows  a  thing  or  two  about  betrayal.   about  never  truly  knowing  whether  someone’s  on  her  side,  about  the  figurative  knife  that  wedged  itself  between  the  notches  in  her  spine.   she’s  become  quite  weary  of  people  whose  alignment  changes  with  the  wind.   

     Leon’s  always  been  quick  to  defend  Ada,  but  as  soon  as  the  issue  of  her  loyalty  arises,  he  falls  silent,  unable  to  properly  defend  her  often  questionable  actions,  and  that  in  itself  is  enough  to  tell  Jill  all  she  needs  to  know.   when  you  help  someone,  you  do  so  wholeheartedly  –  at  least,  that’s  what  she  believes,  what  she  practices  –  and  tales  of  Ada’s  only  convenient  camaraderie  have  never  settled  well  with  her.   in  this  moment,  neither  does  the  sly  smile  playing  at  the  taller  woman’s  lips.