altarfates

[altarfates]

I’ll be archiving this blog so I’ll take liking this post as the go ahead to follow you on the new one.

[altarfates]

I’ll be archiving this blog so I’ll take liking this post as the go ahead to follow you on the new one.

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missing dabihawks like a mf

[altarfates]

I’ll be archiving this blog so I’ll take liking this post as the go ahead to follow you on the new one.

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okay I have finished remaking yipee I will see you over there it has been fun 🏃

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grimmet hugged this is a moment to go down in the history books.

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I was gonna remake anyway so that is in the cards.

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the doctor did not make me pay 50 dollars for missing my appointment so I will be having a redbull about this.

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I’ll learn impulse control when I’m dead

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it's always so fascinating and heartbreaking when a character in a story is simultaneously idolized and abused. a chosen prophet destined for martyrdom. a child prodigy forced to grow up too fast. a powerful warrior raised as nothing but a weapon. there's just something so uniquely messed up about singing someone's praises whilst destroying them.

[altarfates]

I don’t dream or have dreams I can remember hardly ever and the one time I do ????:)?:?:

[altarfates]

As much as the subway was Emmet’s domain was night Grimsley’s, so it wasn’t so unusual to see him out at this hour, meandering these desolate hours in search of the next auspicious splash of neon light. The station became liminal in that regard, existing in the moments between exultant highs and sobering lows. No, that wasn’t the real reason he had taken this detour. Grimsley had jested light-heartedly that he should come and abscond with him while he was detained in a work meeting and even if there was no meeting to extricate him from he had arrived back here all the same. There was something eerie about the station at night and as the last commuters began to disperse, exhaustion etched in their sluggish strides, the large, open space took on a bleak atmosphere. An experience totally unique to negotiating the same walkways whilst they were congested with an afternoon’s worth of passengers. Empty enough that Grimsley takes notice the moment someone’s voice resonates, clamorous, through the otherwise stagnant silence. It wasn’t the only one, however, and that piques his interest. Emmet’s commanding voice accompanied it which meant his suppositions had been correct, the conductor was still roving these halls long after the traffic had tapered off. The scene that unfolds before him is aberrant, unequivocally wrong. He doesn’t afford it much thought before he’s closing the distance between them, his strides purposeful. 

These sorts of nights were often full of these inebriated sorts, loitering at the bar, their voices dissonant against the gentle lull of music. Stumbling through the streets, laughing so loudly that other’s retreated a step or two back to avoid colliding with them. It meant he had gotten accustomed to it, navigating each interaction with the sort of refined grace it often took to convince them that he wasn’t their enemy. It wouldn’t take much for someone to become belligerent if they felt their authority was being challenged, even if they had no such right to it in the first place. Emmet’s posture wasn’t rigid as he had become accustomed to and there was something distinctly disconcerting about the way he was attempting and failing to retreat from those encroaching hands. Grimsley’s hand comes to rest on the man’s shoulder, decisively, it takes only a moment for him to wedge himself between the conductor and his passenger, as compelling as he was convincing. ❝ We’re all friends here.❞ His voice is low, scarcely a murmur, one hand resting now on the man’s shoulder and the other grasped in the stranger’s own hand, a sickening vice. The perspiration slicking his palm made his skin unpleasantly clammy, wide, startled eyes searching the elite’s face for something; he couldn’t be certain what that was. Grimsley gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder which was enough to soothe his quickly escalating frustration if only a little. ❝ So there’s no reason to raise your voice like that.❞ The gambler’s smile was amicable but the fluorescent lights over-head turned his blue eyes glacial. The man’s disorientated state meant he was more than likely seeing several repetitions of him and was unable to appreciate the sharpness to his eyes. Even if his breath reeked of alcohol and Grimsley was certain he would have to abrade his hands raw to get the viscous remnants of the man’s last drink off of his skin he remained unperturbed. He had encountered drunken strangers many times in the past, often incensed for one reason or another, this made him far more experienced in navigating this than his friend. With a side-long, perfunctory glance towards Emmet, holding his gaze for only a moment as if to assure him it was alright to breathe, take as long as you need, his attention returns to the man who was now grappling with his sleeve. He lets out a soft exhale, it would most likely have to be dry-cleaned now. ❝ Your destination isn’t far from here, only a few streets away.❞ The man nods sluggishly, furrowing his brow as Grimsley’s hand extended towards one of the nearby exists. ❝ But you won’t make it back like this, shall I call someone for you? ❞ After a moment of inertia he nodded again, slowly, as if he was gradually piecing together what was actually transpiring right before his eyes. A cab would get the man home, at the very least he wasn’t shouting any-longer, those were his least favourite people to deal with, especially when they were appallingly intoxicated. After a brief phone call Grimsley finally addresses Emmet, his smile remains but is more sincere now that he’s no longer pinned beneath a barrage of hot, repugnant breath. ❝ This gentleman wants to know how to get to the entrance, there’ll be a taxi waiting to take him home, he’s very sorry for the inconvenience he caused you.❞ He lowers his gaze back down to the man expectantly who begins immediately apologizing, words still slurred together but at the very least it was somewhat coherent. 

@altarfates + grimsley || plotted. dw about it.

It was late. He was tired. The station was nearly empty save for him, a few last minute commuters, and the skeleton crew that worked through the night. Though he was far from the night owl his brother was, he typically didn't mind working late when it was with him. It was easier to stay awake when his brother was beside him, even if the tiredness started to show on his face and in his posture far sooner than it did for the elder. He'd insisted Ingo go home early tonight but refused to do the same. His brother was the one who'd been so woefully sleep deprived, not him.

He closed his eyes for only a moment as he yawned, but they snapped back open halfway through as he was interrupted by slurred speech and an overwhelming stench of cheap, stale beer. Revolting- but a commuter was a commuter and they all deserved assistance in reaching their destinations. Arguably the man that appeared in front of him needed even more assistance than the average passenger all things considered. Emmet raised a hand to politely obscure the rest of his yawn- and perhaps partially to avoid the sudden smell.

"Sorry, can you repeat-" His voice cut out with a squeak like a kitchen faucet being shut off as his personal space was breached. A hand had reached out to clumsily grasp at his arm to keep its owner steady as he staggered forward. It was so sticky with sweat that it practically glued itself to the fabric of his coat and he could feel it as he moved to take an instinctive step backwards to restore a safe distance. In lieu of taking that as a sign that he should acquiesce, the man moved- stumbled, really- with him and his other hand lurched forward to lay against the front of his shirt. Without the protective layer of his thick coat, he could feel the warm moisture soaking in to the fabric and spreading to the skin underneath like a disease.

There were no employees in sight and even if there had been, no one on the night shift had signed up to deal with actual passengers. It wasn't their job- it was Emmet's responsibility. It would be wrong of him to ask any of them to help.

"Okay. Um. That is rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrreally not necessary, can you please-" The man started speaking again and while Emmet could tell that the words were somewhat coherent, it sounded like gibberish to him even though he was sure it shouldn't have. It was like his brain's language processing had just short circuited as all of his energy and attention was allocated to getting away and restoring a safe, comfortable distance. As much as he felt the compelling, unrelenting urge to forcibly shove the man away and watch him fall backwards onto the hard floor Emmet remained more or less professional in his discouragement. He raised a hand to try to gently push one of the man's aside and he started to let out a sigh of relief as it seemed to work, but moments later the drunkard's hand was back, grasping at Emmet's tie this time so he couldn't be moved as easily.

"No no no, really. Don't do that, please. I am Emmet. I would be happy to assist you, i-if you would just-" Feeling unable to move either of his arms due to anxiety of some further retaliation, he tried to take half a step backwards only to feel the grip strengthen and pull, his tie tightening around his neck as the hand on his sleeve crawled up towards his shoulder to provide better balance. It'd already been hard enough to breathe as he tried to keep himself from hyperventilating but now he feared he was closer to suffocating.

[altarfates]

Sets a hand on Gold's shoulder awkwardly. "As a parent, I have to tell you something incredibly important." A long, silent pause as he clearly gathers his words. "It's okay to be gay about Silver. It's perfectly normal to be at least a little gay for your rival. Just be normal about it, okay."

Each time Lance's hand comes to rest on his shoulder, firm but not discomforting, Gold is struck by the fact that this man is his father. It was still strange to think about and getting used to it well ? Yeah, he wasn't sure about that. He tilts his head up almost as soon as Lance acknowledges him, brows furrowed. It seemed that each time his father thought to impart some words of wisdom it came with the perquisite of being inexplicably ominous. Incredibly important ? Ooookay, well now he was paying attention. It's when he mentions Silver that he clams up a little. His rival still hadn't allowed him to glean all that had transpired between the two of them but from his reaction it definitely hadn't been good. So when he continues on, relaying something that feels ludicrous enough that he almost thinks he heard him wrong, Gold is left reeling.

❝ n-normal about it ?! ❞ That's what he had chosen to lock onto. The tense line of his mouth was now slightly agape, eyes wide; clearly going through several emotions in rapid succession. He takes in a deep breath but rather than come to some ground-breaking revelation he only makes a ❝ huuuuuuuuuuuuuuuh ??? ❞ sound.

[altarfates]

there are so many important details to this gambling cat so consider this my post about them. - he has ties back to team rocket, his family borrowed a significant amount of money from them when they were initially funding the casinos ( i think this is what olive and i talked about lmao ) that they are in charge of running. the whole thing began with an innocuous discussion between his parents and one of their execs and it progressed to the point where they were relatively loyal to them. it was a way to satiate their greed, they already HAD money but this was a way to increase that exponentially. this relationship is long-standing and grimsley has been aware of it since he was initially introduced to them during a business party / gathering and they all played rounds of poker together. - i think i mentioned to olive 1 time about how maaaaaaaaybe archer taught grims some of the tricks / ways to cheat when it comes to cards but that's between him and arceus. - his sister was piers / marnie's mother and the two were relatively close. she gave him some piercings when the two of them were younger !!! ( this has only been mentioned like in 1 message but i love it sm so it's staying ) this is an on-going plot with @spikescream. they still kept in contact once she left the family but that was one of the catalysts that led to general strain and tension in their family. he isn't close to his parents, he never really was. when they were younger he very much admired and wanted to be like her. and after they moved he would frequently, or as frequently as he could, go and visit them. it has been a while since he's contacted either of the kids, they sort of fell out of it but mostly it was bc grimsley's life has become a bit of a hot-tm mess with his gambling "addiction" and whatever else is going on the last thing he wants is them getting dragged into his disaster of a life. - that man cannot handle his alcohol and i think it's absolutely hilarious because you will often see him with a scotch on ice or a glass of wine but he's hardly ever actually drinking it. as far as he is concerned losing control like that is an exploitable weakness and with the sort of people he's often dealing with that is not something he's willing to allow - they lost a substantial amount of their money so rapidly that it was impossible for them to salvage much. it ended up with all of his remaining family seeking the most effective ways to out-do or exploit one another to gain as much as they could for themselves. he's used to that sort of voracity in people, after all, they're the same animals he's been playing in opposition to for much of his adult life. it still wasn't pretty, part of the reason he began relying on the gambling skills he had already refined by then was because it was an effective way to make back what was being lost. for a while he almost had nothing and it was just him and liepard doing their most to get by. you wouldn't know it now, not unless you knew precisely how to look but there have been many times where he has bet far higher than he can afford to pay-out and has taken home absurd winnings by the skin of his teeth. - he has yet to acknowledge that the gambling thing is an 'issue' because in his mind as long as he's experiencing that sort of thrill there's no chance for stagnation and for the actual problems that he cannot escape ( ie proton crawling through his window at 3am and asking him where his monthly debt is ) will not catch up with him. - the lucky coin he always had on his person that is now in emmet's possession was something his mother gave to him. the first night he was invited to sit at the table alongside his parents and participate in a game of poker with some of their personal guests. it holds significance and he couldn't bring himself to get rid of it, lucky, because it has seen him through some of his hardest times but also lucky because deep down he is a sentimental bastard. his new lucky coin, which he carries with him wherever he goes, is a token that emmet gave to him after one of their battles.

[altarfates]

tbh the worst thing about Grimsley is that he wears those shoes without socks?????????????????????? NO SOCKS?????

he’s a maiden of course his ankles are out :)

[altarfates]

I love giving grimsley useless hcs like how’s he’s ambidextrous, can play the piano and violin, has the equivalent of a motorbike license, can’t handle alcoholic beverages.

[altarfates]

Grimsley’s height is like his age ambiguous and dependent on how much I want him to suffer.