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      /      pls

/ <3

/   stares

⠀ ⠀ ⠀„  that’s  a  pity,  but  you’re  right.  there’s  a  certain  satisfaction  after  eating  a  good  meal  under  the  right  atmosphere.  so  long  as  i  can  experience  that  tonight  with  spaghetti  and  meatballs,  and  a  glass  of  red  wine. ”   caelan  did  a  quick  glance  down  at  his  all-black  outfit,  noting  the  faint  splotches  of  dried  paint  along  his  thighs,  before  trailing  after  her  at  a  respectful  distance,  hands  tucked  inside  the  pockets  of  his  long  heather  charcoal  wool  coat.   „  it  seems  like  you  already  know  the  best  spot  for  that. ”

@gatheros  can’t say i’m an advocate for coffee but who doesn’t love food?    you like meatballs?    [her steps begin with slow movements,  a faint movement of her hand motioning for them to follow.  it didn’t matter what he wore.  it was the name. and the volkovs would grant them with immunity and even a free meal. out of fear,  perhaps.    melina hadn’t done anything to them directly  yet there was still room for her to.  no one wanted to give the opportunity]  you look just fine,  i promise.    they won’t even notice  

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ i  can  be  charmed  with  a  cup  of  coffee  but,  if  watching  me  chew  is  your  idea  of  a  good  time,  then  so  be  it.  should  i  head  home  to  change  or  will  my  current  attire  suffice? 

@incruciar    [THE SMILE SHE HAS——teeth showing, sharp teeth and all, is far from the polite facade she brings with it.  it’s the kind of smile that hurts your cheeks, the kind that becomes unsettling when the possessor takes a long time to blink.     it falls the second he looks away,    and returns softer in the course of seconds]   i don’t think you understand.   your time is in \my\ hands not the other way around. 

━━━  【  @NIKOLAEVNA  】       ،،      IT  NEARLY  DRAGS  A  LAUGH  OUT  OF  HIS  CHEST,     if  he  weren't  fighting  the  impulse  to  shiver  at  the  elements.      &&.  ON  THE  MATTER  OF  ELEMENTS,      stiles  knew  he  was  way  out  of  his  own.
                      ‘  you  know  what  i  mean.    a  deal's  a  deal,     even  if  the  terms  aren't  exactly  ideal.  ’
                      THIS  FAMILIAR  DANCE  WITH  DANGER,     tempting  fate  —  it  might  have  scared  him  once.      younger  and  much  more  naïve,     he  would  have  gone  for  the  safest  option,     the  quickest  solution.      BUT  THIS  RHYTHM  HAS  GROWN  PREDICTABLE,     and  fear  is  a  luxury  he  could  no  longer  afford.
                      LIFTING  BOTH  HANDS,     stiles  slowly  and  carefully  tugs  one  side  of  his  coat  inside  out,     brings  the  inner  pocket  —  clearly  weighed  by  its  contents  —  into  view,     nods  in  its  direction  once.      AN  EXCHANGE.     commodity  for  commodity,     quid  pro  quo.
                      ‘  come  on,     don't  get  all  shy  on  me  now;     i'll  show  you  mine  if  you  show  me  yours.  ’

@sektrjc   [SHE WOULD STAND ON HER OWN, this time around.   there was no melina nikolaevna—-no volkov.  just her,  in her rawest——unnaturally pure form: a woman torn between loyalty & grief.  anger & hate.  Normally there would be a quip of response for her to say.   like a comment to further confirm her amusement aside from the faintest twitch of her lips at the hearing of profanity ── or how he was almost certain that she was on his side.     MELINA COULD NOT DECIDE IF THE LACK OF PERSONNEL  only proved that thought right.   A wolf alone,  is a wolf dead.     THE WIND HOWLS,   it seeps into the dark furs of her coat.  her hands remained gloved,   and tucked in her pockets; it was snowing.]       i’m here,  aren’t i. 

@testedsoul  you are.  [melina said it like it was a secret——his secret that only she knew about. his secret that she discovered all on her own & had all the power in the world to use it against him.   if she was cruel,  that is. ] nothing to be ashamed of.  [leather red gloves slipped into her pockets,  retrieving a silver casing. the V insignia extravagant,     fitting for someone of wealth.   she even lighted it for him]  don’t smoke it all at once.  

no,  i’m not.  *  though,  he is.  oftentimes it sneaks in and he’s got no choice but to double down to the potentials (fears and all,  dread and all).  arms cross over his chest that’s only covered up by his black tank top,  where holes riddle the back,  *  got another one of those? 

@testedsoul   i could be.  [ the cigarette lights her entrance.  plucked from her lips afterwards while smoke is exhaled,  mixing with the scent of vanilla on the black synthetic furred collar of her long coat.   that same cigarette is tossed into a puddle nearby,  dying with a weak hiss.]    or i could be walking the same way.   (…)  would be funny if i was—-you’re paranoid. 

[ deniz turn her head briefly to gauge the other’s reaction to what she said.   in her eyes,   she appears the way she likely intends to:  unbothered.   this,  however,  very much bothered her.   she possesses a callousness she has not seen in a while—the kind that rattles your ribs with so much disdain for another person. ]    you might not have given this life,   but you’ve continue it.   you PERPETRATE it.   you FEED it.   generations of children lost to this and for what?   what is the motivation for this?   what could YOU possibly say that would make any of this justified in any way?  [ unlike melina,   her indignation is on full display. ]   you know,   i don’t even want your answer for that.   i’m sure i won’t like it.   as i said,  /i don’t know where he is/.   zasha didn’t give many details.  she took him and left.  i haven’t heard from either since..  and now i at least know why.   you can leave now.

@lacrymosas  [THE SILENCE THAT FOLLOWS IS ONE OF BITTERNESS FROM BOTH SIDES OF FEELING.  on one end, she has every right to be blamed. upholding a system that oppressed people like zasha——like the boy.  she, in name and in blood had ties to a system that robbed mothers and fathers of their children,   taking advantage of their biggest fear…and exploiting it.   BUT THEN THERE WAS THE OTHER SIDE:  where she thought of herself a victim, too.  someone who had no say in what family she was born in nor how she was raised——what was taught and expected for her to do.  THERE WAS SOMETHING ROTTEN INSIDE OF MELINA that couldn’t fathom ever being blamed when she didn’t start it. and that rotten feeling knew it was all a lie——even before she allowed the doctor to do what so many had done to them.   faceless numbers who were exterminated with the press of a button…should they become immobile in combat.]     i didn’t give him this life.   [MELINA’S HEAD LEANED LEFT,  a shoulder shrugging.  unbothered as the outer shell may seem..  it bothered her tremendously.   “he deserved better than what you gave him” .     it prompted her to stand,   slowly,  the cool air nesting on her warm skin; she doesn’t shield herself from it]   but he \will\ terrorize the lives of others if he remains undetected.  you don’t know what he is or what he can do.     neither do i.    (…)      they won’t see a child when he hurts someone 

@NIKOLAEVNA    [ the news of her death shouldn’t have come as a surprise to deniz,  and yet it does.   it explains the unusually long period of no contact;   she thought it strange to go this long with no favors asked and no off-the-books medical visits.   there’s a long silence that falls between them after her statement as if to process that information she was given.   it is unsettling to think of how her absence can go unnoticed by the rest of the world,    how she can just disappear permanently.   swallowing that small lump in her throat with crossed arms,   she finally finds the words to speak: ]   ..  i don’t know.   he wasn’t here very long,   and i don’t know where she took him after.   if you know my life the way you claim you do,  then you know i’m not exactly the ideal candidate to foster children.   
            
            [ the off-duty surgeon plods across her living room,   following the grain of her hardwood floors with her olive green eyes,   only stopping when she reaches the front of the glass doors of her small balcony overlooking the busy street.  that phrase replays itself incessantly in her head—“more of a weapon than a child,  more of a weapon than a child;  “weapon,  child,  weapon,  child.   it didn’t sit right with her that *that* was her assessment of him. ]   i hate what you see.    he’s more than that,   you know.   he deserves a better life than what you gave him.  [ they all did. ]

 * . @SACREYED      JUMPS UP AND DOWN!!!!

⠀⠀and why would you be thanking my father?   surely your ..   relative would’ve come to the same conclusions without him?

@myvampyr  my apologies.  /he/.   a spectacle he was way back when.  (…)  if anything i should be thanking you.   of course,  it’s meant for your father but as you said: “he doesn’t take visitors”   you would think he began some form of a twisted religion.    perhaps my grandfather was enlightened by his work,   playing god. 

⠀⠀ creature isn’t very accurate ..   / he /  doesn’t like it when people call him that.  

that why you’re looking?     hm.. i kinda see it.  ‘m a tad bit prettier though.

@cultofsaltz     a snappy one,  aren’t you.  reminds me of my younger self.  

..       what’re  you  looking at  /weirdo/?