h-a-unted

[h-a-unted]

"She was taken from me. Do you know what that feels like yet?"

[h-a-unted]

CORDIS DIE!!!

[h-a-unted]

Heads up, friends, this is a smol announcement! I've removed a bunch of muses from the Tarot! Some of them do have some threads that I plan to continue replying to, so I will be doing that. Aside from that, I want to formally say that this blog is currently on hiatus (maybe until Squ1d G4me drops and I am motivated to throw stuff and write more actively). As of now, I'll only be doing replies to the threads I owe, and the asks I owe afterwards, if I do finish with drafts. All of this will be done at my own pace, so it'll probably take a while. As always, if a thread/ask I reply to no longer interests you, you can, of course, ignore it. These will be posted on queue if I figure out how it works. My OC multimuse blog is also on hiatus.

Also, I will hopefully be posting more gifsets in the near future.

Anyway, thank you for reading!

[h-a-unted]

[ txt : annie ] attagirl.

[ txt : annie ] but yeah no, we'll be real girls for the night

[ txt : annie ] whiskey is an excellent choice, I'm already looking forward to this

[ txt : annie ] hah, mountains of pizza. Im in if anything to hear the reactions of the employees

[ txt : annie ] wait what? Okay, an additional mountain of mozzarella sticks AND molten lava cake.

[ txt : annie ] it's gonna be a full on party.

[ txt : annie ] yeah, fucking hypocrites, so sick of them

[ txt : annie ] pajama party it is. you better not overdress. come dressed in a literal pajama

[ txt : annie ] or I'll slam the door in your face

[ txt : annie ] no sparkly shit, yeah? but also get some extra strong drinks

[ txt : annie ] I got some here, but we'll probably need more for a real party

[h-a-unted]

His chuckle is brief, but his smile remains for a little longer. True enough, their father's method of bonding sometimes involved learning how to be very violent... No room to wonder why they all ended up being, well, as they are. Even Savannah, with no military training, as she had stated, could still give a soldier a run for their money – and life.

"If that's all they said, they have a lot more to learn from you." Reacher states. "I'd love to see you do that helluva drop kick myself sometime. Would've probably saved me a few bruises here and there..." If he could be honest, this wasn't his best work at all...

"Any chance you could help me patch up? For old times' sake." ...Or because he really needed it.

“well, if we're bringing semantics into it, dad. he taught all of us. all i did was tweak your form a bit.” savannah made a pfft sound and leaned her elbows on the table. “was only kidding. hand to hand combat isn't my area of expertise. i'm not the one with military training who can snap someone in half like a twig, big guy. although, i've been told i have one helluva drop kick.”

[h-a-unted]

The irritation he felt was mirrored perfectly the moment Joss turns around to look at him. They have a face-off as she speaks defiantly.

"He was getting to you," Reacher speaks with that tone, the one he uses when he thinks he knows best – which happens to be all the time. The thing was that, this time around, that tone was accompanied with worry. "He was getting to you and you were letting him get to you."

A breath comes before he continues. "Was that part of your plan? To lose control during an interrogation? Because, if it was, that was a stupid plan."

❝ you’re coming with me. ❞ (Reacher)

He's pissed. Granted, he equally could simply be worried or stressed or - whatever. But Joss knows how to deal with pissed more than anything, so that's what she goes with. So when they're alone, she turns on him with just as much irritability.

"What?" she demands, tilting her chin up defiantly, "I was literally in the middle of getting answers from our suspect like you asked me to,"

@h-a-unted

[h-a-unted]

His nod is light as he ponders upon it again. The food here truly wasn't like home... This place, this room, the people in it – everything felt so out of place it almost made him mad all over again. But he clings to Young-il and his imagined life... A small trace of himself surfaces when he speaks again.

"Spicy... I love spicy food. Vegetables, mostly." He admits and immediately regrets opening up if even a little. It is a part of himself, even if it's small and inconsequential. It makes him miss even the places he loathes... It makes him actually miss home again, and that scares him.

Young-il takes a deep breath and concentrates on Georgia's side of the yearning. His eyes light up just a bit when he turns to glance at her.

"The ocean?" His tone exposes just how unexpected but interesting it had been for him. "What do you miss about it? Did you frequent it?"

@ensnaring

skin erupting in goosebumps, her eyes meet his. she wonders what he sees, if anything at all. it's hard to tell when it comes to young-il. his attention is a force to be reckoned with, always sharp, always possessing a titanic gravity. it must intimidate the other players, his intensity, but it has the opposite effect on her. amidst all the chaos, he remains a pillar of unwavering marble, cool and placid. an anomaly, one growing rare by the day.

but she doesn't know him. his answer lacks in substance, not even hinting towards who he might be beyond these walls. he hasn't even so much as made a casual comment regarding a job or a family to return to. no ring, either, though she supposes it could've been lost along the way or in his pocket. all she knows with certainty is that like her, he isn't from this country.

nevertheless, georgia lets him have his reservations. it's only fair.

she smiles a small smile, amused. "suppose you can't go wrong there. what kind of food?" goosebumps spread, sending a static charge up her spine. she shivers. "me? i miss... well, i don't know. the ocean maybe."

[h-a-unted]

There is no answer as to the reasons, except for the determination of the stranger to hurt the man. Surely, it didn't come without a plausible explanation. Reacher thought it a bother to have to look for another delear, but... If it was this serious for the other, he'd have to start hunting.

"Okay," Reacher finally caves and agrees. He gives a last glance to the man on the other's grasp before lifting his gaze at the stranger.

"Just don't regret whatever you do." He'd have to swallow it as a minor inconvenience... He could find another dealer anywhere else. He'd leave this town soon enough, anyway... Maybe, while he was at it, he'd investigate just what this dealer had been involved in and mentally thank the stranger for delivering justice... hopefully.

Aiden cannot fathom why anyone would stick their neck out for a shit-head like this, a man whose only thoughts were about money and the best way to swindle desperate criminals for every penny without getting robbed in the process. How many people had died- innocent people dead, because of this bastard?

Truth be told, as much as he held all that disdain for the man still squirming in his grasp, Aiden didn't want him dead. Beat the fuck up? Sure. Imprisoned? Even better. Let the word get around that this guy supplied child-killers and wannabe gangsters. However, allowing the supplier to think that he was going to get off with only a few bruises wasn't going to be helping Aiden get any information that could be relied upon.

"You need to go," he replies while taking a step back with the shopowner dragged along with him.

[h-a-unted]

"Whiskey," Reacher repeats to himself in acknowledgment as he walks over to grab the bottle. He poured it over two glasses and placed one near her for her to grab. Then, he walked over to the window. One last discreet look to the outside was better than just leaving it up to luck. The coast was clear, so he walked over to the nearby couch of the safe house.

"That usually happens with most people," meaning he wouldn't really mind it unless it escalated, he surmised. But something about this was still bugging him. He took a sip of his drink and it was back to talking. "I wasn't told the details about your situation. Why exactly are you being persecuted, do you even know?"

Sophie sat down, taking a deep breath. Maybe she was taking this well, or maybe she was just in shock and it'll all hit her at once. The mention of a drink was risky; alcohol tended to make her...not so calm, but it was a risk she was willing to take at the moment.

"I'm a whiskey kinda gal," she admitted, nodding in thanks. "You seem pretty cool so far. I mean, given the circumstances. I'm sure we'll get along pretty well, though I apologize in advance if I end annoying you," she joked.

[h-a-unted]

"Sounds about right," he agrees with her decision. Her love for cereals was unparalleled and also quite endearing and contrasting his own choices for breakfast. Sitting by the window felt right, especially alongside Neagley, so he made himself comfortable on his side of the booth. "Roast beef and eggs, with some hashbrowns on the side... And black coffee." Could never go wrong with that.

"Is the coast clear, for now? You know being on high alert also counts as not resting, right?" He says it with a very light smirk.

“it feels like a cheerios kinda day. with a side of coffee and toast. you can drink a beer for the both of us.” they crossed the street towards the diner and went inside, choosing a booth by the window. she always felt more comfortable that way. watching out for any potential threats. “going for the roast beef or turkey?”

[h-a-unted]

"No kidding, easily gives you the heebie-jeebies, if you ask me." Wow, the place was worse than his own apartment and that was saying something. The mix of concrete and nature was something he'd never see as natural. True enough, nature was in its right to reclaim its spot...

Yet, something about the place in general felt so off, even the overtaking of nature was more unnatural than anything. He felt a shiver run down his spine, but he was going to play it cool. And so, he continued.

Patrick smiles at Hong-jo and then looks over toward the area she was going to check first. "Okay, that one looks completely overtaken by nature. You think we'll be teleported to like a jungle in there? Maybe end up in some Jumanji shenanigans?" Whoops, maybe he was getting pumped up about it, after all.

"Lead the way and I'll follow. Good idea not to stay around for too long, right?" He keeps his hand holding her's. No way in hell is he gonna leave her alone, not here or anywhere. No matter how creepy the area.

Patrick ( @h-a-unted ) reaches beyond the grave to say “Are you sure we’re supposed to be here?” to Hong-jo!

Hand in hand, Hong-jo stares down at her clipboard. As far as she can tell, this document her coworker gave her before leaving was real, but getting the new girl in the department to go to the one place you don't want to go felt horrible in her eyes. Normally she would've never minded venturing out alone but this town? It gave her the creeps when she'd skimmed over the file. Patrick being here eased her mind to a certain extent, though guilt nibbles at the frays of her thoughts that she's invited him somewhere creepy.

❝I— Yes. I...think. It's just a little...❞ creepy? ❝..rundown. I need to complete a survey to scope out the area to see if it can be taken down. There are planning permissions, apparently, that want to tear down and rebuild here.❞

Why would they want to do that? Nature has consumed one house already in overgrown ivy that lined the walls in a thick layer of green foliage, the hedges make a thick wall around the perimeter of what she assumes was once a front yard. She would be one of the very reasons if the planning permissions were denied or accepted, the decision couldn't just be made lightly and yet....this place scared her.

❝Thank you for coming with me, I really wouldn't have done this on my own.❞ With a squeeze of his hand and a soft little smile, Hong-jo nudges her shoulder against his. ❝I promise this won't take long. We'll start there, at that house.❞ she directs her clipboard towards the front most house of the street, drowning in nature.

[h-a-unted]

"Really? Ah, well... This hopefully won't take long." Martha took a deep breath, placing hands over the table. "Actually, I've been wanting to meet up with him for some time. You see, he knows a friend of mine, Molly Beth?"

Her voice starts to lower, she tries speaking in casual whispers. Somehow, this feels like a secret she can't share so lightly. She leans in toward the lady, wanting to trust her to help.

"Truth is, I haven't seen her in a while... We were supposed to meet up days ago and she hasn't even sent me a text at all... It is so unlike her. So far, he is the only person I recall she interacted with around here... or anywhere, other than me. I was hoping he'd help me out. Could you at least let him know I'm looking for him?"

@fcrtnite

“hi, uh — not at the moment, but that tends to change very fast around here.” larken placed a set of silverware on a table and smiled down at the woman. she blinked at the question, knowing exactly who the stranger was talking about. joe came in almost every day at lunchtime and ordered the same thing. though, giving information about him out to someone that she didn't know seemed weird and invasive. “sounds vaguely familiar. who’s asking?”

[h-a-unted]

He would listen to the other, no matter how outrageous the story. After all, already being brought back from certain death was in itself outrageous... He wouldn't have believed it if he hadn't experienced it.

Even so, when he explains just what happened to him, how he awakened and ancient... evil, so to speak, Bear can't help but be hesitant. Maybe, he was actually joking to see how far in he would believe his words... But it is the way his pupils split for a moment that make it for him. Vail was being truthful, somehow.

"That... Are you..." What to even say? Bear pauses, thinks a bit about it, tries to make sense of it while staring. "Are you okay? This... god, wouldn't it want to take over you or something? Do you need help? Jesus, this is crazy..."

Vail gave a long sigh, leaning back into the chair. He knew this conversation was coming. He was dreading it nonetheless. He didn't want to talk about it though. How do you explain my friend and I robbed a tomb and oh now the Egyptian god of death is chilling out inside of me?

"The short version? When I was in the army, my friend convinced me to...liberate precious antiquities with him. We did this for years, all across Iraq. Until one day we accidently found the tomb of an Egyptian princess who was buried alive...long story short...we woke up the Egyptian god of death and chaos...and now I'm the host of Set...."

Vail looks him in the eyes and lets his pupils start to split, Set taking over for a moment.

[h-a-unted]

She is magical, way better than any supe, in the way that she makes him feel... She gives him a boost in morale, a power that is bigger and better than anything else. She has been the only one to actually make him feel good about his powers, useless as they are.

So, when he feels her close, he closes his eyes, never wanting to part at all. He opens his eyes when she speaks, smiling lightly, gently as she walks over and sits by his side. He shuffles closer, wraps an arm around her to pull her to him.

"You really mean it? You dont have to give me high praise, you know? I know my limits... But, like, I feel super cool when I'm with you. Being by your side in general is rad." Patrick stops, there's a calmness to this moment that he wouldn't want to give up for anything.

"You know who is the real coolest, though? You... You're not even a Supe and look at you! You disarm me, you comfort me, you give me love – you make me feel great. That's a superpower for sure. Are you secretly a witch? You got me brooming for you– whatever that means." He came up with that on the spot.

Patrick ( @h-a-unted ) reaches beyond the grave to say ‘ i would be like superman. ’ to Hong-jo!

To her, he is superman. He's a hero in her eyes, regardless if he goes out and fights crime or not. She is not like him, doesn't have powers like the top five percent does, so maybe her words won't matter to him. Maybe her opinion, in the grand scheme of things, doesn't even resemble a drop in the ocean of problems that supes can have. But....she's there for him regardless of who he is. Supe or not — superman or not — she'd stick by him. In passing, Hong-jo leans down and presses a kiss to the side of his head, hands linger on his shoulders and offer a gentle, reassuring squeeze.

❝Well, if it counts for anything—❞ Hong-jo leans down, arms dangling over his shoulders, ❝you're my hero, as cheesy as it sounds.❞ Another kiss to the side of his head has her grinning stupidly, fingers trace little patterns into the fabric of his shirt.

Hands pat at his chest, then, she's standing up straight and leaving him, walking round the couch to join him. Seating herself down in the available spot next to him, she shuffles a little to make herself more comfortable. ❝I think you're cooler than all the other supes. My cool, handsome guy.❞

[h-a-unted]

"Yeah, well, if you two weren't either MIA or extremely busy, I'd be telling you two about my day every day." Alas,... At least he could get in touch with Savannah here and there, he appreciated that, however scarce it could be, sometimes.

Regardless, he listens to her input while he glances briefly at his exaggeratedly expensive watch. Reacher should be here any minute, he had said that a few minutes ago, no? He shakes his head, letting out a breath of surprise. "Hey, your wound is no joke. Otherwise, the nurse wouldn't have been frantically calling..." The fact that she was doing far better than the average agent was proof that she was,... well, a Reacher alright. Despite that, he couldn't help worrying.

How much luck, strength, and strategy was required to constantly end up the victor, and how little did you need for a misstep to end it all? When it came to his siblings, he'd constantly ask himself that, while also vehemently trying to avoid thinking about it.

"Chess, you say? We should have a match, while we–" The door's sound as it opens interrupts him and in comes the third sibling. Though he might look as stoic as ever, the waver of his gaze is enough tell. He steps in, closes the door and walks over to Savannah.

"Hey," he pauses, studying her briefly. Soon enough, there goes a very subtle smile. "Joe was worried sick about you."

"Hey! Well, I was, but... hey!" Joe jokingly refutes, though he knows he doesn't need to say more. If there was someone who knew them excellently in this world, it was Savannah. She probably had noticed the glint of worry from the giant towering over her bed.

"Are you really okay, Savannah?" Reacher's attention is on her and so is Joe's.

@fcrtnite

“why would i, joe? it’s my job to put myself in dangerous situations. and it’s not like i was alone in that. my partner and three other agents were there too. the guy just got the drop on us. it happens.” savannah threw up her hands, exasperated, and somehow was already physically tired. it’d been years since she’d ended up in the hospital for a gunshot wound. it was easy to forget how much steam it took out of a person. “i know i should’ve told them to call you or reacher, but i didn’t want to worry you all the way across the world. god knows you've both been through worse than this yourselves.” she murmured, sighing. gesturing to the tv remote, “there’s cable and one of the residents said there’s a chess board lying around.” savannah ripped open a protein bar on the nightstand and shrugged. “the guy’s dead if that’s what you mean. can’t say the same for his associates. so, no, the job isn’t done. hoping i don’t get pulled off the case because... he was tipped off that we were coming. right now that's my concern."

[h-a-unted]

Black ops 7, Black ops 7, Black ops 7!!

[h-a-unted]

Somehow, there is a sensation of exposure when she listens to the other. She speaks with a tone of knowing, with a hidden acknowledgement to something Maeve hadn't really said out loud... It felt like that, anyway. So, when she glances at the other and the enchanting ways of her eyes, she feels vulnerable. Is she really looking right through her? Right into her soul? It sure feels like that.

Yet, the girl indulges her and, somehow, it feels fine to be so exposed, for once. It scares her, sure, but not entirely in a bad way. They would share drinks and, maybe, the world would feel a little lighter. Maybe, there was someone else who could share the burdens with her, listen in, laugh... whichever could work.

"Both? Smoothies with alcohol sound real nice. What do you think?" Maeve asks before she walks to the bar of her room, invites the girl to get comfortable with a beckon toward the nearby couch. As she scans the sets of drinks over, she sighs. "You... know more than you let on, right? The way you speak, it feels like there's so much you don't say."

Queen Maeve must have seen that twisted side of notoriety.      The wound of the heart - hearth,     aching and raw.      She grows a new face and hopes the world doesn’t recognize her.      Buried things have a way of turning up at her door   ⸻   don’t they?       She feeds and she starves the admiration and the disdain of the city she haunts.    Unlike Maeve,   however,    Cindy refuses to show the angry mob of civilians her true intentions.      Silk has a god - like ability to appear and disappear,    although she lacks stability.       The reality of it should sting,    but it seems like honey on her tongue  ⸻   sweet and summer - fed. Arachnid senses tingle beneath her skin and she knows the other woman is telling only part truths. Despite this,     “It’s hard to please everyone,   hm?”     Spoken with a brief lilt,   as though this is a humorous occasion.    Her eyes are genuine,   siren - like as they observe the wars inside the other’s mind.     The absolution that was not absolution quite yet,    but a pile of spine and girl - hood.     She is Silk to Maeve,    face half - covered and intentions not entirely translucent.      A feline stretch of her back before she jumps down beside Maeve,     a silent devil on her shoulder.        “I’m in.    Smoothies?     Or  …   something stronger?”