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outlawiism·:

DUST,    BLOOD     &          havoc,     that’s been the summary of the last few days for the star-lord.     he’s adamant ruining the plans of his father J’son.     &    at the moment an unfamiliar lady calls out to him         (        out of thin hair,    he can swear she appeared out of thin air.     not that that’s     WEIRD     given the context         ),      he’s just about reaching his objective.     his father is one of the biggest abusers of the galaxy.     on top of this being guardians work,     it’s also     personal.         ❛          i’m heroically saving this colony from spartoi rule by hackin’ the mainframe the invaders had set up.          ❜          the hybrid says loudly as he takes cover,    both blasters ready,    metal humming as they both get ready for a supercharge.     there’s a bit of sarcasm in the way he’s revealing.    every soul on this little planet knows what’s going on,    so it’s strange to have been asked the question to begin with.          ❛          i have a mixed feeling on what you said about my gear.    so y’gotta give me a lot more reason for me not to shoot you.      you could be one of   their spies   or some shit for all i care.          ❜

     features widen with every second which passes in this strange conflict she’s found herself dropped into. chaos felt too kind of a word. confusion continues to lace features. “the whatda whatda?” voice raises an octave or two, body ducking as blaster fire nearly takes her head off. what had she magic’ed herself into, a star wars movie? “your gear doesn’t really seem like anything that important all things consider--” teenager retorts, hand risen in his direction as new words are muttered under breath. whatever enemy had been behind him suddenly finds themselves shot backward. “a. what the hell did i ever do you to? b. how can i be one of their spies if i don’t even know where i am? and c. i can help you if you help me?” while she hardly really gave reason for her father to ground her in the past, he was definitely going to kill her for this one. 

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repost & bold whichever applies to your muse !

TOUGH SHELL

bruised knuckles. bloody noses. eyerolling. empty beer bottles. messy hair. sarcasm. lip biting. unwashed jeans. coffee breath. loud music. broken neon signs. chipped nail polish. leather jackets. always wearing headphones. swearing. sneaking out at 3am. dark lipstick. frown creases. burning cigarettes. plaid shirts. under eye circles. dark colours.

SOFT INSIDE

honey tea. flower crowns. giggling. blowing kisses. dancing without worries. white lace. soft textures. fluffy throw pillows. using too many heart emojis. empathy. constant daydreaming. handwritten letters. fairy lights. bullet journals. designated driver. warm hugs. garden picnics. quiet. smile lines. optimism. flowy clothes. pastel colours.

tagged: @skymma tagging: @outlawiism @atlantisking @interphrase (nick), @myersbprd @krumovik @parallellives (winn)

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skymma·:

John hears the question in her voice even without the way her voice goes up. A look at her confirms it, the slight frown on her, the hesitant way she’s looking at him.

For a moment he wonders if he’s done something. That’s something that’s never gone away, even though he’s older now, and Rose is too - the fear of failing his daughter in any way, of not keeping her safe, of not keeping her happy. 

But the moment flickers off. There’s something else in the air, he thinks, but he’s not sure what.

“Hey, love”, he says, giving her a faint smile. She’s got privileges, this one, in terms of affection. But he doesn’t touch her this time when he sits down opposite of her, looking at her carefully right back. “What’re you thinking about?” 

     “my mum.” it’s an honest answer which holds more weight than is voiced in her reply. yes, she was thinking about her mother, but the more pressing matter was what else she was thinking about. should she tell him? what if he tried to talk her out of the notion altogether? while the teenager is no stranger to the nature of her father, or to the lengths he’ll go to achieve his ends at times, rose also knows how hard he’s tried to protect her from the more dangerous sides of magic. and what she was considering, well, rose was pretty sure she knew enough about magic for that to qualify. 

     “i-- i know we don’t understand everything about my powers yet. but i made fenrir and with everything i have done over the last few years..” features strain, emotions beginning to rise within her as she attempts to voice her thoughts. she’s unsure how to go about this. doesn’t want him to think that her desire in this moment means she isn’t grateful for every moment that she’s had with him or that he’s not a good father because while a lot of people tended to be pissed at him, he was.. no, is, a good father. “what if i could bring my mum back?” her words come out hopeful, almost desperate, hand gripping the book she had harder.   

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update!

sorry i haven’t been around that much this last week or so. things have been really hectic and i haven’t been feeling the best. replies will be coming soon across the board! thanks for understanding!

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plotting call!

i have to work a lot the next few days but i’m going to try to get online in the late evenings. if you would like to plot, like this post and i’ll jump into your chatbox later.

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@skymma 

     dread had fed half-admitted denial as THE date rapidly approached. of course, rose had distracted herself with various tasks in the days previous... focused on her studies and watched as lit orbs-- an old spell still as bright and awe-inspiring as the day a child had discovered her mother’s hand upon paper-- hovered. and then denial had been washed away with the tick of a clock and the arrival of the anniversary; an ever somber reminder of a horror that had transpired half-way across the planet. 

     it had been quite a few years now, a lifetime to a girl who had found herself suddenly thrust into a dangerous and chaotic world and with a father she had barely known at the time. but the pain of her mother’s loss, and steven’s, was an ever-fixed mark within her soul, felt perhaps even greater as a teenager.

    footfalls echo, the girl peering upward from one of her father’s older books with a dangerous question in her eyes. “hey, dad.” what if? they’ve only breached the surface of her abilities... 

                                                      what if?

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My name is John Constantine. I’ll drive your demons away. 

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sorry i wasn’t around too much over the weekend or last few days. my friends and i had a birthday weekend and i have a few shows i’m going to as b-day presents. plus, i have work. i hope to get replies out tomorrow and/or over the next few days. 

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@exitiumparit for zatanna | thread 1 continued

     curiosity creases features, book discarded at her side as she slips off the couch and stands. she’d never seen this woman before, not even in the few pictures she’s seen around the millhouse. then again, even she knew that didn’t mean much. plus, the woman clearly seemed to know her father in as much as indicated by her entrance. a small flash of black and red and balls of light are forgotten, a small dragon moving to stand slightly in front of the girl. rose often called these displays ‘simba moments’ because in all honesty, fenrir was still too young and small to be able to do more than create a puff of smoke. “that’s a cool name.”

     confusion quickly turns into a small smile, another step taken forward. “i’m rose. but if you’re looking for my dad, he went out for some take away since uncle chas is on a trip.” a slight frown follows these words; rose rather enjoyed his cooking, as she expected most people did. he made eating vegetables less gross. “i don’t think he’ll be back for a while.” because it was always the smartest idea to leave a kid unattended in a house full of dangerous mysteries... right? “but we can hang out until he gets back if you want? are you my dad's girlfriend?” 

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I swear to fucking God

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RP PARTNER (quietly): so, it’s a little silly, but I had this plot idea and I was wondering if you were up for it? It’s okay if you say no, I just thought it’d be fun-

ME(at full volume): IM ALWAYS A SLUT FOR PLOTS.

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@outlawiism gets a random starter for reasons

     dark hues wash over a field of chaos, confusion etched within features as some kind of battle commences around her. this was why rose was specifically told not to do spells she wasn’t ready for without supervision but the damn book had been so tempting. body ducks as some kind of laser is fired in her direction, words uttered as she makes another blast disappear using magic. she wasn’t entirely sure where she was or how she got there but rose had seen enough in her life, both in person and on television, to be able to tell it involved aliens. was she in national city? metropolis? 

           “hey mister, in the retro gear, what’s going on?”

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@skymma | thread 3 continued 

     change. so much had altered in rose’s life in such rapid succession. she’d lost her mother and steven. lost the friends she’d made. lost the ability to have the social interactions she was used to. she’d gone from the familiarity of one country to the strangeness of another-- even if they did still speak some other form of english that didn’t always make sense. she been thrown into a new life, a scary one, at times, and suddenly found herself with a father who she’d barely known before what happened...happened. and yet, they’d found a kind of familiarity with each other in this new life they both were living together. her dad wasn’t always nice to people but he was to her and the subtle changes he was making weren’t lost on her, even if she was a child and even if it was something as simple as having a cereal cabinet that she was pretty sure he didn’t have before. 

     rose offers a smile as she scoots off the chair and moves toward the offered box. “i feel like he should eat meat? dragons are supposed to eat meat right? i mean, even little he’s too big for crickets and worms and that’s what my friend’s bearded dragon used to eat. he ate fruit too though...” she trails off as if suddenly completely lost in her thoughts, half speaking aloud, half to herself as she seats herself back at the chair in front of her bowl. “i don’t think he’s sick but i think we should take him to a vet.” nevermind that dragons weren’t supposed to exist or that vets might find a challenge in knowing what to do with one; rose’s watched enough sunday morning animal shows to know that when in doubt, take your pet to the vet.