Wait. Art Takes A Step Forward And Sets A Hand On Archies Arm. Dont. Ill Walk You Out. They Can Go Out

“Wait.” Art takes a step forward and sets a hand on Archie’s arm. “Don’t. I’ll walk you out.” They can go out the back entrance. They won’t be seen that way, and it’ll be a lot less of a hassle trying to navigate the dark corridors of the venue rather than trying to get through the crowds of people inside. He laughs softly. “I do.” Art hates these parties as much as Archie does. Or at least, as much as he assumes Archie does. “Come on.” He takes a step back from Archie and towards the door. “Let’s go, it’s not too far.”

ACTOR TAKES THE SHAPE OF YET another role. Wears the skin of another man as long as it helps him escape from the prying eyes of the people inside. The offered champagne is eagerly accepted ( a moment to simply hold it in his hand, he does not want to appear too eager to tip back the alcohol after all. ) Blue eyes glance once more to the world below. HE CONSIDERS IT FOR A MOMENT TOO LONG. To jump, to see if he is part cat and able to always land on his feet too.

❝ I'll go first if it will get me out of here. ❞ The itch of a panic attack is bubbling up inside his chest. The rhythmic pounding of his heart against his rib cage was a frantic reminder that he was meant to stay home under the safe covers of a heavy blanket. He should have listened to his therapist. ❝ No offence, of course. Lovely party, well organized. There are just too many people here. You know how it is. ❞

There’s nothing wrong with what Robin’s saying, but Loki bristles at her words anyway. “This isn’t a lot of work.” In the grand scheme of things, it’s barely any work at all. “You can believe whatever you like.” He folds his arms across his chest and stares out at the skyline, glaring daggers at the horizon. “I don’t care.” A lie, but he’s good at lying. He’s not the god of mischief for nothing, after all.

@notefinal said: “ No, I don’t care about anything at all. ” / loki to robin

"...I find that hard to believe."

No one has ever really accused Robin of being an optimist. But she has her moments. Looking over the skyline, she keeps her voice carefree. Playful. Last thing she wants is to come across as condescending.

"This is an awful lot of work for not caring about anything. That takes some kinda feeling."

He laughs. He can’t help it. “Yeah. Good thing.” They’re both liars. Every pirate in the world is a liar. It’s practically in the job description. He laughs again. “Endearing, huh? You sure you didn’t swallow a dictionary, sweetheart?” He goes easily into the kiss, smiling against her mouth and as they separate. “Careful. You keep doin’ that, I’m gonna assume you’re in love with me.” His grin widens. “Can’t have that, now can ya?” Riff doesn’t care if she’s in love with him or not. Actually, that’s not true, but he’s not quite ready to admit that yet.

He shifts his weight as if he’s going to get up, but he ultimately decides to stay put. It’s not every day he has the upper hand like this, so he’s going to take advantage of it while it lasts. “You got any good plans for today?” He rests his hands on her lower abdomen and drums his fingers against her ribs. “Hm?”

THE CLEARING OF HIS THROAT FEELS like a victory. Sweeter than the ringing of cannon fire through the still air of night. She has won the battle, not the war. They're both winded, taking a moment to gather themselves. HAD SHE BEEN A KINDER WOMAN, she might have considered it romantic. The tension of heaving lungs and the reminder of the ghost of his lips still haunting hers. She should shove her knee between his lungs. ❝ You say sure, like a liar. Good thing we are both dishonest, no ? ❞ Captain does not elaborate on which lies she tells   ⎯⎯⎯ have him believe she would not slit his throat ( perhaps she wouldn't. Or perhaps she would. )

In the blink of a moment the world shift ; the way the air grows heavy and rich mere moments before a storm unleashes hell on earth. All it takes is a sharp inhale through gritted teeth before it is her back that's resting on the ground. THE NERVE OF THE FUCKING SHIT ! ❝ If you wouldn't want me to beat you up, you shouldn't look so endearing when I do. ❞ Her jaw is locked, voice rough with anger that has nowhere to go. Oh, damn it all to hell ! A hand sneaks up to the back of his neck and drags him down so she can steal another kiss from him.

Send my muse anons pretending to be someone they care about. The twist: make these anons as heartbreaking, disappointing, or anger-inducing as possible.

Pretend to give them bad news, pretend to break up with them, pretend to make an upsetting confession - as long as it hurts, it’s fair game.

Lock’s eyes narrow. “I own these woods.” He and Mother own these woods. “And I’m not a man. I’m a boy.” He doesn’t like the idea of being a man. His father is a man, and his father broke Mother’s heart. If that’s what men do, he doesn’t want to be a man. His eyes narrow even further as Honey continues to speak. They’re not making any sense. Lock doesn’t like it when things don’t make sense. Lock doesn’t like a lot of things, but he especially doesn’t like it when things don’t make sense.

“I don’t want to give you anything. I want you to leave.” He’ll kill them if he has to, but he’s feeling generous today. He’ll give them time to leave on their own before he kills them. He shouldn’t, but he will.

ONCE BROWN EYES ARE STAINED with yellow. The colour sprinkled through like stars. Soon, they would take another shape. Soon, they would no longer appear human to the eyes of the manboy before them. SOMETHING WITH A SNOUT, perhaps ? Something with teeth sharp enough to tear flesh, for certain. ❝ Man owns nothing. ❞ They snarl, certain of their words. ❝ Only that which they make, but even that is borrowed from the land. ❞

Who are they ? An excellent question. What do they want ? An even better one. Honey tilts their head, and squints their eyes. ❝ They call me Honey, or nothing at all. And what I want is unknown even to me, but I know it is not anything you can give. ❞

my queue is very nearly empty and i’d like to fill it again, so consider this a starter call. specify muse or else you don’t get anything.