sangelune

[sangelune]

Call of Duty: Modern Warfare II (2022)

[sangelune]

aaa sorry i'm so afk my life is still a big question mark and i have a job and then THIS fucker

so a LOT GOING ON

[sangelune]

she's so sleepy

[sangelune]

Say hi to Daisy.

[sangelune]

first convo and i've got Something started with him oh boy

[sangelune]

what if i just......

[sangelune]

ok but i love him. i love this one. this mark was the best.

[sangelune]

caught up on invincible and stuck on mark, eve and allen..... maybe even nolan....... i'm so tempted

[sangelune]

   “now  -  what?”  a  smile  appears,  disbelieving.  “you  wanna  run  that  by  me  again?”  he  snorts  -  then  bursts  into  uncontrollable  laughter.  “wait,  wait,  wait.  okay.  you  ask  me  why  the  street's  closed.  i  find  out.  i  told  you  ‘busker  festival’  and  your  response  -  your  honest  to  god  down  to  earth  response  to  that  is  -  who  the  fuck  is  buster?”  after  saying  it,  he  starts  to  laugh  harder,  doubling  over,  tears  pricking  at  his  eyes. 

   he  leans  against  his  mustang,  taking  deep  gulps  of  air  as  if  he'd  been  choking  or  drowning.  in  a  way  -  he  was.  just…  from  laughing.  “who  -  who  the  fuck  is  busker?  who's  busker?  who?”  he  wheezes  out,  before  cackling  and  drawing  in  breath  too  fast,  coughing  and  hiccuping.  “oh  god  -  ooooh  god  -  god  -  shit  -  fuck  -  hold  -  hold,  hold.”  a  hand  is  up,  index  finger  outstretched.  “oh  no,  no,  no.  oh  no.  no,  no,  no.”  he  wheezes  again  before  trying  to  catch  his  breath  and  wipe  his  tears  clean.  a  few  more  snorts  and  giggle  fits  later,  he  finally  stands  up  properly,  grinning  like  a  mad  man. 

   “it's  a  busker  festival.  as  in  buskers  go  there.  to  busk.  busking.”  he  snorts.  “they're  basically  street  preformers.  mostly  musicians.”  he  snorts,  laughing  again,  shaking  his  head.  “who's  busker.  who.  oh  my  god.”

[sangelune]

   “two  pairs  of  hands  are  better  than  just  one.”  ryan  chuckles,  shaking  his  head  before  he  looks  at  her.  “take  it  you're  new  to  spirits.”  he  mentions,  easing  his  shotgun  fully  down.  he  flahses  a  grin.  “a  couple  buckshot  of  rock  salt  ain't  enough  to  keep  it  down  for  good.  they  come  back  like  a  bad  rash.” 

   “good  that  i  did  my  research.  i  know  where  that  one  lays  its  ugly  head.”  he  laughs.  “not  too  far  out  from  here;  that  would  be  why  it  lashed  out.  i'm  closing  in  on  finishing  it.  all  that's  needed  is  to  dig  the  corpse,  salt  it,  burn  it.  that  puts  a  cork  in  it.  suppose  you  got  no  reason  to  not  believe,  considering  you  did  just  watch  me  blast  a  ghost  to  kingdom  come.  hunting's  definitely  a  glamorous  job,  isn't  it?” 

you  tangle  with  the  supernatural  often?

Oh, you could say that, the fae inwardly muttered, her green eyes staring at the shotgun as it was being lowered before she looked back up at the man as he continued to speak. Being one herself and being hunted by them, oh yeah, she had a lot of run-ins with them.

Fun times.

"Can't say that grave digging is a secret profession of mine," she says, resting a hand on her hip before looking down at the specter he just killed. She sneers slightly. At least that was one less person who was trying to hunt her.

She then looks at Ryan and huffs a little, "But, I suppose I can make the exception once... Though, I gotta ask: why are you even digging this fella up?" she asks, canting her head to the side.

@sangelune | Continued from x.

[sangelune]

"I can handle it myself." @ Ryan

   “surprising  reaction,  considering  the  circumstances.”  a  shotgun  is  lowered,  an  exhale  following.  eyes  cast  skyward,  before  lowering  to  level  on  the  one  before  him.  “tell  me,  you  tangle  with  the  supernatural  often?  another  hunter?  or  is  this  the  unlucky  draw  for  you?” 

   “i'd  guess  -  but  if  i'm  wrong,  people  tend  to  get  their  knickers  right  up  in  a  fancy  knot  and  that's  not  what  i'm  willing  to  sort  out  right  now  considering  i  just  blew  a  specter  to  kingdom  fuckin'  come  and  now  have  a  whole  lot  more  digging  to  do.  probably  literally.  unfortunately.”  he  flashes  a  grin.  “not  to  be  rude  now.”  he  puts  a  hand  up  in  mild  surrender. 

   “unless  your  secret  profession  is  grave  diggin'.  then,  well,  could  use  the  hand.”

[sangelune]

started monhun for the shirtless cosmetic and then get greeted by this like. ok. hi.

[sangelune]

silently slides my ask prompts tag for possibly trialing out ryan with?

[sangelune]

Ryan Ward; Canadian Hunter. Dubbed the Canadian Cowboy by most who know him thanks to the insistence on wearing a black cowboy hat and driving a Mustang. His car very much is his baby, do not touch it if you want to stay unbruised.

His arsenal is from his grandfather, passed down by his father. All of his firearms are old, but they work. Reliable. Not exactly legal, but since when did Hunters operate within the laws? He keeps his gear hidden in a compartment in the trunk, commonplace with Hunters.

Ryan has painstakingly written out all the information his family passed down into a cohesive encyclopedia accessible if one has the right password. He digitized it for easy searching. He had a friend help code the program for it, and he does continually update it. It is accessible through a phone or computer.

He is deceptively charming - one has to be in this line of work. Able to smooth talk his way into places he needs to be to solve the cases he comes across. He's decisive and swift with most; but if a personal grudge gets involved, he does take it out fully on the creature. Karma takes too long, payback's a real bitch and he'll dish it out.

One of his most common (and humorous) tactics is to tell the truth. His truth is usually so unbelievable, people let him slide by. It's about the fun in social engineering to him. He's well versed with it.

There are members of the Ward family who don't become Hunters; and it's by their family business those family members run that the Hunters of the Ward family have money. Ryan's got a family business credit card he puts everything on. It's often paid off as business expenses, his traveling. So far, no one questions them.

[sangelune]

Ryan Ward; Canadian Hunter. Dubbed the Canadian Cowboy by most who know him thanks to the insistence on wearing a black cowboy hat and driving a Mustang. His car very much is his baby, do not touch it if you want to stay unbruised.

His arsenal is from his grandfather, passed down by his father. All of his firearms are old, but they work. Reliable. Not exactly legal, but since when did Hunters operate within the laws? He keeps his gear hidden in a compartment in the trunk, commonplace with Hunters.

Ryan has painstakingly written out all the information his family passed down into a cohesive encyclopedia accessible if one has the right password. He digitized it for easy searching. He had a friend help code the program for it, and he does continually update it. It is accessible through a phone or computer.

He is deceptively charming - one has to be in this line of work. Able to smooth talk his way into places he needs to be to solve the cases he comes across. He's decisive and swift with most; but if a personal grudge gets involved, he does take it out fully on the creature. Karma takes too long, payback's a real bitch and he'll dish it out.

One of his most common (and humorous) tactics is to tell the truth. His truth is usually so unbelievable, people let him slide by. It's about the fun in social engineering to him. He's well versed with it.

There are members of the Ward family who don't become Hunters; and it's by their family business those family members run that the Hunters of the Ward family have money. Ryan's got a family business credit card he puts everything on. It's often paid off as business expenses, his traveling. So far, no one questions them.

[sangelune]

pops in. clears throat. june really does do hand holding as a form of affection.

[sangelune]

"I  couldn't  let  you  sacrifice  yourself  for  me." For kullervo from garuda :3

   it  was…  odd  to  say  the  least.  for  someone  like  kullervo.  a  criminal,  held  in  a  jail  for  far  too  long.  a  warden  presiding  over  him.  his  crimes  on  repeat.  punishment  continuing.  he  stands  himself  up,  a  hand  brushing  against  one  of  the  many  knives  buried  inside  of  him.  his  knives  now.  used  to  bring  his  misery  to  enemies. 

   “why?” 

   his  question  is  blunt  and  immediate.  social  cues…  well.  they're  pretty  far  out  of  his  reach,  having  been  in  solitude  with  only  one  other  (asshole)  living  being.

   “your  worth  is  far  higher  than  my  own.”  something  embedded  in  his  mind  from  the  years  being  belittled.  berated.  kept  behind  bars.  unable  to  do  anything.  “i  did  what  was  correct.  you  acted  out  of  turn  to  save  me.  why?”