amcssing
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Latest Posts by amcssing
did she sigh? maybe at his response ( or her own lack of clarity. ) sometimes, words were more dangerous than back alley thugs and supervillains. comparing them to her skills in combat — well, her litany of ways to express herself was deeply lacking. all too often, she knew, that she came off as vague or obtuse. it's better at home, though, better with people who speak in action over words: that really spoke cass. still, there's a problem, and batkids... are pretty good at coming up with a solution.
❛ very. ❜ she surmised — in the dark, the faintest smile plays on her lips. scaling the walls would've been easier, springing between the towering brick walls. could've done it in her sleep, too; it's her first instinct, actually. but, she freezes. civilian, right. thus, her plan changes. luckily, there's a fire escape nearby. better than nothing for getting them off the streets ( and away from the thugs that'd come looking for their buddies. ) it's gotham; nobody goes anywhere alone. jerking her chin towards the ladder, she reaches for it — rising on her tiptoes, although doomed to fall short. ❛ mind giving me a boost, er, ... ❜ right, she never asked his name.
Yusuke thought the Japanese underworld was ripe with dangers, the West really had arguments to share. While most crimes were organized in Japan, Gotham demonstrated exactly what chaos meant. However, lucky for him he’s even found himself a partner in crime on this night to aid him in the fighting. Ha, his mother would never believe him when he tells her he’s gotten into a little scrap and he wasn’t the one who caused it. Once she extended her hand he realized once again that this isn’t Japan and so Yusuke responds in kind by shaking her hand, holding her firmly.
━━ ❝ 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐧. ❞ Not because he felt she has a good grip of her own, but just the way she moved..like she’s accustomed in taking down the local thugs and if that was the case he was beginning to feel sorry for them. “Up..” He then looks up, the only thing he’s able to see beyond the opposing walls that make this alley was the cold starless night. “Don’t exactly see an elevator t’ get up there.”
seldom does he offer genuine concern 'pon others. it's equal parts his nature — equal parts resisting attachment. still, the other looks beaten to shit, whether physically or mentally; he's yet to prod. there's a cadence in his voice expertly honed, a mellifluous and compassionate patchwork of sympathy. ❛ that so... ❜ his eyes drag themselves over their stained coat and linger on the two-tone coloring of their hair. if he notices anything out of place, he graciously doesn't insist on questioning them. it's better to puzzle over things like this. ( at least there's fun to be had in trying to solve them. )
❛ a couple bloodstains usually ain't enough to get people to make faces like that. ❜ at least, not in his experience. no, no, countless days of wandering gave him a deadly instinct for probing the truth. sometimes, he can't help himself. truth can cut deeper than any blade, whether the sting of denial or bitter acceptance. assuming he had been unerring in his questioning, he quietly gauges their reaction. noting the softness in the features and wondering if that gentleness he sees could merely be false. those marks didn't appear defensive — not to him. ❛ but, you've got tired eyes. fishy ones. ❜
yeah, that's what he decides. there's a deeper melancholy to them that the surface permits. all bundled up in that coat, something is twisting and writhing; whatever feelings haise's nursing were tricky indeed. some of his tact fails him as he stares. for a moment, he thinks about himself and whether he's ever felt such things. if the sting in their eyes matches the one that greets him sometimes in the mirror. was their pain similar? or was he so desperate to see himself in others that he clings to the tiniest modicum of recognition?
flashing a smile, he gingerly picks some dirt from beneath his nail — his troubles quickly forgotten. ❛ ain't always gotta be the tough guy, y'know? older i get, and the more good-looking, mind you, that's what i've learned. ❜ with preening done, he inspects his fingers, framing haise with them. ❛ ... lemme see if i can get some of those stains outta that coat. you're a bit of a mess, my friend. damn near a fashion travesty. now, before you answer, think about what i said — then answer. there is a wrong answer. ❜
જ⁀➴ @amcssing ( Bradley ) finds Haise after he has been in a fight.
The sting of humilation lingered like a bitter aftertaste — the fact that he, the squad mentor, the one tasked with guiding and protecting the Quinx, had been the one roughed up like this during their latest investigation had Haise reeling. How could he possibly command respect, lead effectively, when he had so demonstrably lost control?
It haunted him — their expressions as he had come to his senses again, each of his subordinates' eyes filled with a mixture of incredulity and unspoken judgment. He suspected harsh words lingering in the minds of even those who had never outwardly criticized him, silent doubts harbored by those who had come to trust him — and he didn’t even want to start thinking about those who questioned his authority, the ones who already bordered on outright insubordination.
This incident would undoubtedly worsen the already tense atmosphere within his barely held-together squad and further shake the fragile foundation of his team. His stomach churned at the thought of distrust and disrespect taking further root within those he so desperately tried to hold together — a sharp, unpleasant feeling, it mirrored the throbbing pain radiating from his battered body.
And fate, it seemed, was determined to deny him even a moment's respite. The sound of approaching footsteps caused Haise to stiffen, to pull himself a little straighter, despite the protest of his aching muscles. The thought that someone was about to walk in on him while he was feeling sorry for himself — wallowing in self-pity with his coat stained in half-dried blood — only increased his burning shame, fueling its already stoking flames. His cheeks flushed with heat as he prepared himself to wave off the inevitable gaze of concern and confusion.
❛ I’m okay. Just a rough mission. ❜ It was the kind of line he had perfected by now — light, casual, deflecting any kind of concern that could be directed at him. He hated this; the idea of causing anyone worry. Deeply rooted was his desperate desire to not be a burden to those around him, to prove his worth.
With trembling fingers hidden in the folds of his stained coat, Haise looked up to give Bradley a smile — subtle, yet reassuring, the kind that was designed to convey a silent ‘Really, I’m okay’, despite it not quite reaching his eyes.
concerned roleplay starters, accepting !
taking a moment to let his gaze linger on the sea, brad doesn't answer. not something one sees often as he surrenders himself to thought. for a moment, his gaze is as tumultuous as the waves themselves. at times, it seems he might even see something beyond the deep pool of blue — far beneath the shifting tides. eventually, he meets brant's gaze again, except this time, it's none lacking in clarity. no, it's clear and strong, none too different than the keel of a ship. ❛ wish i could say this is my first time, but it ain't. didn't pop my cherry this time, cap. your loss. ❜
❛ hard jobs are the thankless ones. it's why i haven't worked a day in my life. ❜ aside from documenting his adventures. ( he barely considers that work at all. ) with a neat laugh, his gaze sweeps brant once more. it lingers on his hat, more than anything. ❛ if you're looking for a hand, then mine are free. been looking for a way to pass the time, anyhow. ❜ something to help him chart his next course. ah, he wonders, could this lead to something new? something exciting beyond his dreams.
stepping back fluidly, he offers a courtly bow that lacks some of its poise because of the grin that takes his lips. it hangs there more naturally than the sun in the sky. his voice flows like liquid — his next words are unthinking, instinctive. ❛ if, and i know i can be quite intimidating, you're willing to invite me aboard, captain? ❜ part of him just wants to hear it again. ❛ i'd be honored. ❜
A showboat, then, though Brant has neither the room nor desire to complain. Confidence is a fashionable trait to those with the skill to back it up, and he could hardly accuse his new acquaintance of lacking base for it. As such, he's happy to extend his hand in return, easygoing but firm in shaking Brad's hand.
"Haha! Captain Brant, at your service." Releasing the offered hand, he follows up with a quick tip of the hat. "Always happy to put on a joint performance, as it were. I'm conversely very used to fighting alongside my Troupe, but it's not all that often we get to see a new face that's on our side."
Indeed, meetings with the powerful often tend towards the adversarial when it comes to Brant and his merry band of accomplices. There are always exceptions to the rule, but he really can't remember the last time he'd gained an unexpected ally like this—save, of course, for when he seeks them out himself to join his crew.
"The law really ought to thank us with how often we've been left to deal with the messes they turn a blind eye to on the high seas, but, alas. We're no better than pirates ourselves, from the perspective of those in power." He heaves a performative sigh, though the soft shake of his head and amused smile give his dramatics away. "If it weren't for that, I'd have half a mind to ask you to join us in dealing with the problem for a little while. What with your self-proclaimed isolation, and all."
For something that's almost an earnest invitation, it's not particularly subtle. But Brant rarely ever aims for subtle, anyway.
not even for a moment does he spare a glance that way. dealing with such a trifle, if anything, bored him. with a wave of his hand, he could've made them forget — sent them on their way with happier memories. hell, slowing time to a crawl tends to work out for him more often than not. plenty of time to piece together a clever story or chart a hasty escape. still, he smiles, an all too knowing one. just because he does things that way doesn't mean others do. so, he cedes to her warning with a loose nod. biting down whatever cleverness surges to flee his lips, it slips free as a sigh.
❛ was hoping coming here would've been the end of it. ❜ sure, he loves a quest as much as the next guy, but sometimes it's nice to rest. carve out a little slice of peace without going so far to attain it. chewing the inside of his cheek ruefully, a hue of distress coats his gaze, although it warms with a tinge of excitement. rambling on 'n on about, well, anything? his favorite. ❛ it's a star. might be a little small, sure, but it's a star some hotshot got the smart idea to turn into a ring. to make the heavens and his fingertips one and the same. ❜ he rolls the band between his fingers, feeling out its etchings and the sting of its warmth.
❛ this baby, though, happened to be forged in a pair. binary stars — ever seen one? they're fun. if you're willing to help, i'm willing to pay. it's important. ❜
𝐈𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐘, 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒 𝐆𝐎 𝐓𝐎 𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐎 in the back, flicking a bit of light down from the overhead to get his attention on the girls in the store. He moves to distract them by flirting, and Io is left to lean over the counter to stare the mage in front of her down, eyes wide in disbelief.
"Can you be careful?" She hisses softly, waving him closer so she can inspect the ring more closely.
Keen though her eyes are, the symbols are tiny, and she'll probably need a magnifier to get a proper look, depending on how old it is. Even so, she shakes her head at the description, because anything with that kind of juice would have immediately been sent to the Vault or offered up to Manon to handle as she saw fit.
"Can't say we've gotten anything like that, but depending what it is, I might be able to hep you track it down."
i'm slowly building my reading list so i can get muse inspo and i love books
Papers in the wind. Hotaru, Good Samaritan despite the way he speaks of people: bends to help gather the materials which seemed to spill from the professor(?)’s hands. Sometimes a rabbit doesn’t know it’s crossed a lion and wanders in its den regardless. “… bad weather. Ah, here you go.”
a single second. lots can change in one — an arrow might strike true, or an encounter might occur. in a single second, his attention drifted. golden irises, deep and rich like pools of ichor, glance towards the sky. it's getting later, the purplish orange hue edging the far reaches of the sky warns him. still, the sun hangs up above with unchallenged bravado. it does not shy away from the shadows; it does not fear sinking beyond the skyline — it knows it will rise. it will always rise; its destined to shine, so let it do as it was destined. and in a single second, he's jealous of its certainty — of such a simple fate.
papers slipped from his fingers, plucked by thieving winds, howling and cackling as they went. a soft curse, a dead word, in a foreign land — slips from his lips. at the very least, none of them went far. explaining how he lost more than half of the documents pertaining to the school wouldn't have been a pleasant conversation. not that thane worries about such things. it's almost time for him to find another place, as things would have it. to see what the next school might offer — he's sure his colleagues are appalled by how often he comes and goes. their job security is why they stay. however, it's the security he does not want.
the thin metal clips in his dreads clink gently as he kneels carefully, none too eager to exacerbate old wounds. everything he does is stiff — a plain attempt at coddling discomfort. and suddenly, he's not alone, not that they crept 'pon him unseen. it's just more papers returned to his hands than he gathered himself. some of the glow in his gaze darkens if only for a moment; it's never truly gone — the lambent within.
❛ & —— and just like that, you're my favorite student. ❜ lips curve into a mannerly smile. ❛ even if we've never met before. ❜ he straightens up, smoothing out each document, a practiced gesture. ❛ thank you. ❜
unprompted,
love a good plot but then there’s that one line that’s eh. anyways witness protection couple au. strangers, ex, etc etc. drama from the forced proximity, danger from witnessing something they shouldn’t have. etc etc
"You're so fucking crazy!...omg you ARE my girl 😍❣️💕💞"
i still have thane brain rot, so sorry, but it's more on battle now after some plotting the other day.
anyways! calvary units played a crucial part in many conflicts pertaining to inodal. for most of the same standard reasons: improvements to mobility, greater height in combat, greater mass, and the general intimidation of horses charging into conflict. in a way, horses were as valuable as gold during battle times.
yeah, so to shorten a long story, thane ruined that. even the most steeled war steed couldn't make itself approach thane. more often than not, they would scatter, leading to chaos amongst the ranks and injuries to their own riders. in an instant, calvary units were more of a detriment to the most critical conflicts in wars of the surrounding kingdoms. lands they prided themselves on horses went from regarding the creature highly to seeing a sharp downturn in their usage.
a few other ways things changed were how strategies differed. with more general warfare standardized again, the lack of horses slowed conflicts more than in years. it did become a gambling game to keep a horse just to catch wind of an ambush since thane can't mask his presence from them. it became a way to locate him.
over time, though, with the manipulation of information, calvary was reintroduced for inodal. since they knew where thane would be, they could put their calvary units out without worrying about them entering a frenzy. it became a one-sided advantage, did not do wonders for enemy morale, and made many skirmishes easy pickings for the soldiers of inodal.
Oh this is a random discussion but thane loves games like civilization. Building a nation? Governing things? Less of the stress because it’s digital. Yeah when he’s off work good luck prying him from civ.
𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐑 𝐃𝐎𝐄𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄?
deep staining red. ripped out confessions, warm velvety whispers and a heart like an open wound. your love flows out like dripping blood, beautiful, flawed and twisted. it's gut wrenching, the type of painfully dramatic feeling that makes you clutch your chest, picturing dramatic monologues about love and loving and big screen over the top scenes of sobbing into your pillow until you fall asleep. it rips out of you, clawing it's way up your throat more so than tumbling out. sticky words that just need to be let out, feelings so big they don't fit inside you. your love isn't easy, it's a true bloody mess, dripping and staining everything it touches in a desperate attempt to be seen, to be felt, to be loved back. and you, you love so hard, so deeply, so much for someone who carries all that pain. atlas holding up the world, how are you? is your love still flowing? is your heart still open? still pumping and bleeding and dripping with blood and tears? still painting your beautiful pictures and writing your love letters in deeply personal red ink? because i see them, i read them, i love them and you, you, you, you. clench your chest, scream your love, cry it out. spill your words of loving, keep your heart beating, keep your love coming and paint the entire world red with it. make it in your image, keep going, it's okay. maybe one day the whole world can be red and loved and beautiful just like you.
tagged by: @hadobreeze ty ty tagging: steal it.
thane has been cursed to feel and suppress the negative emotions of others. he takes away their sadness, rage, etc and, in turn, takes those feelings upon himself. this ability's reach is extensive enough to at least blanket his kingdom. with practice, he's managed to dull the effect it has on him as a testament to his mental strength. it takes a lot to muster his response, whether it's pain or sadness. keeping himself from being swept up by the tides of feelings flooding him takes consistent effort. in a sense, he suffers from his curse himself, stripped of his feelings — struggling to discern himself from where others begin. despite knowing the sadness of countless beings, his ability to empathize with them is lacking.
he prefers to avoid violence, given he can feel what its victims do. although far from a pacifist. to make things in line with his vision of the greater good, he'll gladly bear arms and use threats and violence. in the modern day, to match the times, he's much more forgiving. they were a warrior before they were a king and the battlefield was their first home. sometimes, it still calls to him, even if he's denied its previous comfort. he's averse to killing if only because he can find use for people he spares ( and avoid feeling the pains of their demise. )
to those within range of his curse, some things narratively that could occur: a very faint sense of elation, a bit of a fogginess to their thoughts about pressing matters, a struggle to muster up the drive for aggression, the fade of pain from injuries, etc. it's still present, like regarding those feelings through glass, for lack of better words. you know you should be angry, hurt, etc. but connecting with yourself takes a bit more effort.
Long live the king
i got this amazing commission from HeloiseArt_ and would highly recommend them!
also, this is wish list style but someone getting sent isekai style to inodal?? just, you're here now. high odds thane would try to orchestrate for them to die but like... the slow realizing they need them for this prophecy and realizing its out of their control which is a big thing for him. then def running into each other in the modern day and hitting a spider man point meme 'you??' 'me.'
thane's blood is a bit gold reflecting is godly half but it's mostly red. so, think crimson w/ golden flecks. the gold concentrates itself a lot in his scars and such, kintsugi style.
thane's love language is helping him maintain his dreads. thanks.
Long live the king
i got this amazing commission from HeloiseArt_ and would highly recommend them!
@deadlincs / Higu :
At least you didn't tell me to 'be myself'.
that earns a guffaw from the archangel; it's clangorous and grumbles like a grinding stone. yet still, it's sweet. it carries the sound of the heavens and sweetens itself with their succor. fallen or not, there's an elegance to it no mortal could hope to emulate. it's timeless —— brimmed with complex feelings, most bitter. this might be the first time he's humored higu with his attention since beginning his crossword. even in the overcast sky, dawn's light rests in his gaze. it flickers none too different than a blooming flame. if one peers close enough, if one dares to pick at his visage, they might even note the gilding around his iris. a thin rim of gold none too different than a halo —— albeit more weighty.
❛ y'know, most people try to avoid listening to the devil on their shoulders. ❜ he begins languidly —— words punctuated with a gentle hiss. ❛ if i'm giving you advice, ain't it a given that i'm lyin'? or you're fucked beyond compare. oh, it's probably that one, huh? ❜
prompt, not accepting.
brad's traveled countless worlds, seen the edge of time, and bumped shoulders with gods and monsters alike. he did it all —— he did it too fast and too young. instead of savoring every moment, he hurried along to the next without ever stopping to wonder if these times would last forever. unfortunately, they did not. he knows how this story ends whether he likes it or not, making everything seem pointless. what's left for someone who can no longer experience newfound pleasures and experiences? boredom. a deep boredom.
he gallivants around as the machiavellian adventurer, putting his wants over the needs of others because that's what he's always done. if he stops moving and breaks for an instant, will those thoughts come back? will he be able to fend off that everything's tinged in grey and pointless? so, he never stops. going from one role to the next keeps him distracted from confronting the end.
the roles he picks are impromptu. whichever is the most interesting at the time. it could be the villain, the mentor, the naysayer, the optimist, anything and everything that lets him escape. if everyone's the protagonist of their story, then brad inserts himself in roles aligned with how it plays out. a chance to see something different — he hopes. it's these roles, however, that keep him from connecting with others. a clever guise painted across that ache inside. if someone threatens to peel them back, he runs. he's always running.
beneath the charm and spells is a lonely man. someone unable to grasp the pleasure of life again because he's seen too many things. he doesn't go out of his way to change things. he doesn't flex against the mold; he exists and continues on. he knows it's pointless. if he changes, it's small things to him. his morality, in some ways, is muddled. as a being deeply touched by magic, his emotions are fickle and wild. it's fluid and dangerous. one moment, things could be fine, and the next, chaos for the sake of chaos. for the sake of excitement.
he struggles to feel things but allows himself to live through others. to let them experience some, never all, of the wonders he's seen. it's a comfort to remember what joy looks like, what sadness and rage appear in another's face when genuine. to see himself, a fractured piece of infinity, sitting in another's gaze. he never has qualms about rushing into danger; he wants to draw out more of those feelings that he has lost. it's cruel to play with others' feelings; he knows and does it anyway. it's the only thing he feels he rests in the palm of his hand.
late night Brad thoughts are the fact he, more often than not, molds himself into roles for the people around him. To him, someone’s who’s seen so much, it’s both a way to disassociate himself from things but a source of amusement too. It’s not too different than the switch in perspective of a story, just because you’ve read it one way, maybe there’s something to be found from a fresh perspective. He flows off vibes and that can make him a helping hand, an antagonist, a mentor and more. But, just like roles, he can easily discard these guises. He doesn’t connect to them - if he does, never for long. His story was supposed to be an endless journey but he found the end and that is why he drifts endlessly. An unknowable figure, aimless until a new story begins.
oh i never talked about it but s//inners is such an amazing movie, man.
@noatherics
big sister and little brother.
