pyreovershackles-blog - Tumblr blog

[pyreovershackles-blog]

[pyreovershackles-blog]

i asked her how do you kill a king she laughed  who still believes in kings?

and it sounded like his final gasp  | kmp

((for @nepenthenet‘s prompt “how to kill a king”))

[pyreovershackles-blog]

:// 3 hours for @pyreovershackles . it’s ok i guess. she’s bomb ASS fuck tho ngl <3 love u wine mom :D

[pyreovershackles-blog]

“ that is a REALLY nice car. ”  and what she means by nice is that it is obviously expensive. she’s leaning against the wall, arms crossed in front of her chest, djali peacefully sleeping at her feet. seemingly INNOCENT –– but don’t mistake the girl for someone weak.  “ you are not going to actually leave it here, are you? parking such a thing in a neighborhood like that is basically ASKING for trouble ––– believe me. ”  she knows at least a dozen guys who’ll be all over that thing in less than an hour. 

@thedirectorofshield  ||    starter call.

[pyreovershackles-blog]

I’m an Indian actor. I work in Indian films, and I work in America. The globe is my stage, and I’m someone who goes where my work takes me. I’m not crossing over or crossing back. There shouldn’t be borders to talent.

[pyreovershackles-blog]

“ and do you travel a lot ? ”  there’s a strange kind of WONDER in her eyes. she can tell he is well dressed, even with the little knowledge she has about such matters. it’s more than that, though. it is the way he talks, too. sophisticated, so OBVIOUSLY nothing like her and while it is the tiniest bit intimidating, she is more curious than anything else ( after all, she’s never been one to be shy ). “ you say you are a doctor ? what kind of doctor ? ” her arms wrapped around herself as if she wants to protect herself from his gaze ( the old shirt, two sizes too big, the jacket that is torn at the elbows … not the clothes she usually wares but she is trying to stay under the radar for a while ), she observes even the smallest of his movements.

@serdis  ||    starter call.

[pyreovershackles-blog]

have a tiny little STARTER / PLOTTING CALL. i will probably IM you or just see of i will throw something random your way.

[pyreovershackles-blog]

God Help The Outcasts from Disney’s The Hunchback of Notre Dame

[pyreovershackles-blog]

Are you always this charming, or am I just lucky?

[pyreovershackles-blog]

Mordred is just the cutest thing!

[pyreovershackles-blog]

*shows up at your front door* can I come over

[pyreovershackles-blog]

[pyreovershackles-blog]

BARD

for someone battle-hardened by war, he barely moves at her closeness and instead ANOTHER SIGH comes with the falling of bard’s shoulders, hands delicate enough with the fabric even if it would be better off torn now. ‘ i know, ’ and it’s sad because he doesn’t WANT to fail but the evidence is there, plain as the blue sky above. just like the weight put upon him by the ancestry into which he was born; another worry for another day. 

gazing to the newcomer ( her voice peeling WARM like the psalms of the little bells ) bard takes in the clothes she wears. they’re nothing compared to parisian fashion but what does that matter? his own great coat has seen better days. bard blinks, thinking only of his daughter. ‘ ten francs is all i have and, from what i can see, your skills are WORTH FAR MORE. ’

an incline of his head toward the brightly coloured mid-section ( teal && gold, exotic to say the least ) leaves bard with a weak smile at the reality of just how much help she could offer. 

another, feather light step and she is crouching down next to him, dress rustling and the coins ( the ones in her small sachet as well as the ones decorating her dress ) tinkling like tiny bells. his hands, she notices, are STRONG –– made for hard labour, for fighting, carrying heavy objects… not so much for such delicate work. while he seems almost painfully aware of that, there’s grim determination in his gaze. obviously, the dress is not JUST a dress. sentimental value –– with her own hands brushing over the remains of her mother’s dress, fabric skillfully worked into the cloth around her waist, she understood that all too well.

lost in her own thoughts, it’s only after his comment about PAYMENT that she looks up again to meet his gaze.  “ oh no. no monsieur ! ” and she actually laughs,  a silvery laugh, softer than the smallest belle of notre dame.  “ i don’t want anything for it –– ”  if he was anybody else, she would definitely take his money. but he seems desperate ( she also doesn’t miss the state of his coat - he is not a WEALTHY man ) and esmeralda feels a strange twinge of pity for the stranger.  “ i simply want to help. this seems to be quite the important dress. ”

[pyreovershackles-blog]

Sandro Botticelli, Primavera, 1482, detail

[pyreovershackles-blog]

GIDEON:

* ( &  It was a slow day, his small stall as getting little to no traffic, leaving Gideon bored and with less money than he had hoped to have by the end of the day. So when a body sat down opposite him he perked up, curious as soon as she settled in as to why she was giving off familiar vibes. Maybe it was how she held herself, much like the people that had been surrounded by while growing up. They were all so quiet unless they were trying to play distraction, in which case they were good at playing loud and captivating.

“That is what the sign says.” Again he was curious, she seemed to know more than she was letting on, and that made him slightly uncomfortable. He was used to skeptics, not people challenging his talents with their own. “You’re more than welcome to attempt to read my hands if you like, I’ve nothing to hide.”

Gideon had everything to hide.

“ well... ” hand is turned, palm open and the smile brightening.  “ let’s see what the FUTURE has in store for me, then. ”  she lives in the moment –– most of her people do. it’s hard to think too far ahead when there are days you’re unsure whether you’ll have enough to eat to survive a week. and the past ?  well, living in the past is no use, either, is it ? cherish the pleasant memories and let go of the painful ones, sounds so simple  ( too simple. death, loss, pain, it stays with you throughout your whole life ).  now the PAST is sitting right there ––– much older than she remembers but with the same confidence, the same, almost cocky, attitude.  it is nice to know some things don’t change.

his comment earns him a laugh, genuine and lighthearted.  “ nothing to hide ? ” emerald orbs flicker up to meet his gaze. she’s never been one to keep her thoughts to herself, not when she was little and certainly not now.  “ we ALL have something to hide –––    would be pretty boring otherwise, don’t you think ?  i don’t want to uncover all of your secrets, i just want to see WHO you are. ” hence her desire to read HIS palm once he is done.  “ just a general idea. ”

[pyreovershackles-blog]

[pyreovershackles-blog]

What good are friends if they don't commit to overthrow the monarchy with you