svvvnny

[svvvnny]

simonmuhn

“Not that bad? He’s the – he’s the…” Simon couldn’t quite bring himself to say the word, Because, not only was Sunny’s father the leader of the mob, Sunny was his daughter. He currently stood in the Mafia’s house and Simon assumed that none of them would take his tense whispers. Instead, he attempted to follow Sunny’s advice. He focused on inhaling and exhaling and kept his eyes trained to the walls. Walls which were decorated with various pictures and assorted family portraits. Giovanni, Sunny, and a woman that Simon could only assume was Sunny’s mother. Who, for some reason, looked oddly familiar. Though he couldn’t quite place it.

Simon could still smell the remnants of smoke as they finally entered the room with Sunny’s father – a smell he was more than familiar with when he’d attempted to cover up his own habit. “Giovanni, then,” He managed a nod before the man pulled Simon until a rather uncomfortable hug. He hoped he remembered to apply an extra layer of deodorant before leaving his apartment that evening.

“Yeah, I uh…figured this occasion called for it,” Simon nodded in response. Even if he did have a bottle of Sangiovese back home, he had the feeling that the glass Sunny had just taken from him was far more expensive. At least he could focus on the glass Sunny handed to him. And not drop it in the process. He joined Sunny’s father – Giovanni – at the chairs in front of the fireplace. Again, he spied the familiar woman that was seemed to be Sunny’s mother, though he still couldn’t place what about her was familiar, other than the obvious similarities she shared with Sunny.

“With…work?” He started, momentarily confused as to what Giovanni referred to. What would a crime lord have interest in with a mere history professor? As he continued, and accepted a much needed glass of wine from Sunny, Simon understood just what the man had meant. Ofcourse his interest lied in Simon’s other activities. “It’s uh…about as well as can be. You know how Lucien can be…” Simon offered. Giovanni had met Lucien before. While Simon wouldn’t spill any secrets, it still felt strange to talk about things so openly. “Can I uh, ask you about this picture?” Simon shifted his glass of wine from one hand to the other to gesture to the frame resting on the coffee table. “That’s your…wife, I’m assuming? Sunny’s mother?”

     After handing them both a glass, Sunny headed back to pour herself one, eyeing the two men over her shoulder as her father began interrogating Simon about the Syndicate. Sighing, she leant her weight against the windowsill for a moment as she closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose, a headache already forming behind her brow.       Composing herself, she headed over to the chairs, taking the seat next to Simon’s just in time for him to ask about the photographs. Brown eyes met her fathers briefly before dipping to the floor, she took a small sip of the wine and shifted in her seat. “Yes, that’s my Tonia” he replied, smiling fondly as he stood to take down one of the photos, a casual one of the three of them in front of a huge Christmas tree surrounded by gifts, Sunny looked to be about six-seventeen, hair void of it’s usual ponytail instead favouring for loose dark waves similar to her Mothers.       Tonia Ricci looked a lot like her daughter, her eyes a bright hazel instead of Sunny’s deep chocolate brown, a good deal taller than her petite offspring and hair so dark it was almost black. The pair laughed brightly, the womans arms wrapped around the girl, who was balancing a pair of toy reindeer antlers on her head, as her husband pressed his lips to her cheek lovingly. It was a perfect family portrait, full of love and happiness, not the usual forced, staged commemorative photo, but one taken in the moment, the emotion captured was true and real.      “My Tonia was taken from us a few months after this photograph was taken.” he held the frame to Simon so he could take a closer look if he wished “it was maybe, five years ago now?” he looked to his daughter, who nodded in confirmation, not raising her eyes from the rug as she spun the wine glass in her fingers. “She’s the strongest and most beautiful woman I ever had the pleasure to know, My Susanne is taking after her mother so well, don’t you think?” he smiled fondly, sunny blushed, whispering an embarrassed “dad” under her breath in complaint. The man simply sat down again, smiling brightly at Simon as he took another sip of his wine.

[svvvnny]

     Heels clutched in one hand, Sunny felt the soft sands against the bare soles of her feet as she walked along the beachfront with the tiny mushroom being Shroot hunting for shells excitedly around them both whilst the cool water crept daringly close to the mafia princesses exposed pedicure.       At Dot’s musing aloud, Sunny looked from the woman to the rocks she was talking about and tilted her head as though gauging the distance. “I’m not sure, I think it’d have to be a pretty big parasol, and some powerful wind” she teased gently, crouching and paying attention to the small item that Shroot eagerly bought over to her. “No, sweetie, that’s another bottlecap. Add it to the pile” she instructed quietly, petting his head as he slumped in exaggerated upset before scrambling off to continue the search.       Making her way over to Dorothy’s side, Sunny looked up at the other with a somewhat inscrutable expression, thinking over the words she spoke seriously. The taller woman was one of the only members of the syndicate who the mafia girl could actually say she genuinely liked enough to spend time with outside of work. An uncanny friendship she hadn’t expected when she’d first begun working for the villains, but one she was thankful for nonetheless. It helped that they had Shroot to tie them together, the small creature somewhat adopting Sunny of his own volition and giving them all the more reason to get along.      “Hmm, well if you think about it” she pondered aloud “everyone who’s a mutant is at least a little bit magic, right?” smiling up at her she shrugged as she continued “so i’d vouch that your magic theory is 100% correct and tell you not to give up hope.”

Special Short: “ Between Pavement and Stars !!! ” | Larimar Beach; Open to ALL 

“Do you think if I had a bigger parasol, the wind could carry me away?” she asked. “Do you think I could fly all the way to those funny lookin’ rocks sticking out of the water?” Violet sands dusted the back of her calves as she looked up, tilting her head until she could see nothing but an endless blanket of the nighttime sky. The longer she stared at the stars, the more that their friendly twinkle shifted into a sinister glower. 

At an unusual hour and with an incoming storm brewing on the waters’ horizon, they were the only ones standing on Larimar Beach. But, the spotty weather and odd time didn’t stop her from wanting time to herself. She’d been spending too much time as Amanita, the villainess with lithe fingertips of poison and a whisper that ensnared the strongest of warriors into nightmarish slumbers. And for tonight, she wanted time as Dorothy Alimjan: wearer of scarlet hair ribbons and eternal believer in fairy tales. 

“I used to think magic could really happen,” she said. “Things like you could get swept away on the wind or laugh until you’re light enough to walk on air. And that most of us go about our lives believing that it can’t be done, but somewhere in the world it’s already happened.”

She twirled the handle of her flimsy, red summertime parasol as if testing its weight. “But I’m not so sure anymore,” she admitted. “Crystalline’s been, like, downright sinister lately! So with everything going on, does that make me naive for…for believing in that kind of thing? That maybe it won’t be me who experiences it, but somewhere there’s someone whose umbrella is gonna let them feel what it’s like to fly?”   

[svvvnny]

     It was surprising to most when they learned of this, but Sunny was actually a baptised Roman Catholic. Whilst her lifestyle and demeanour would suggest otherwise, the faith held a special place in her heart, not because she herself believed so much, but because it was her Mother who had loved the church so much. Tonia Ricci had been passionate about her beliefs, taking the family to church regularly and making generous donations. Of course, in hindsight, Sunny could see that it was all a large scale money laundering scheme, but the petite brunette kept the memories close to her heart and attended mass every Sunday, as she had done when her mother was still alive.      Approaching the doors to the church, the hood of her parka was pulled up to obscure her face from the wind and rain that drizzled around her. Fitting weather for a miserable day, it seemed. On this day, five years ago, she and the entire Ricci family and their closest friends and associates had gathered at this very church to say a final goodbye to the woman who had been such a beacon of light and love in their lives. Usually Sunny came here in the morning to pay tribute, but this year she had put it off, recent occurrings almost ceasing her from heading to the holy building altogether. But she had to, it was something she always did. She couldn’t let fear or worry stop her from paying respects to her deceased mother.      Opening the door, she stepped inside carefully, being sure to close it behind her and shut away the miserable howling of the outside world. Walking through the pews, she pulled the hood from her head and shook out her long blonde hair. Headed straight for the alter, she ignored the presence of another. A church was no place to share idle gossip (unless you’re Sunny’s 80 year old aunt Irma and her friends, that is) and thus she walked past without so much as a glance. Picking up a match, she used one of the lit candles to ignite it and carefully moved it across to light a candle of her own before she blew the match out and discarded of it in the small bowl. Standing silently, she clasped her hands as her waist and closed her eyes, head bowed as she recited a prayer in her head. She didn’t move or make a sound, the sombre mood of the church seemed to dull the princesses attitude, by some miracle.

@ANYONE@GLORYHQS ||  ✞ the demons all around you waiting for you to sell your soul they’re singing la la la la

angels, demons, heaven, hell, God, Satan, sacraments, they meant nothing to the pagan witch. the majority of her life having contradicted the morals and teachings of the good book, she relied her faith on a different one completely. when faith denies you, you find a new one. when you spend your life being the outcast, you cast out the others. you retreat to your home, you surround yourself with everything you love. you thrive despite your treacherous obstacles, and you move on. you fight the battle, then you move past the battle. you don’t dwell on the past, you learn from it. you settle your pride, you set aside your ego, you take a deep breath in and release the negative energy. you close your eyes, and imagine the safety of yourself, the ones you love, and you focus on that peace. but it was a tiny peace she couldn’t quite reach.

even still the wholistic ways of the Wiccan practices couldn’t settle her raging soul that threatened to lash out at every waking movement to startle her.

libraries are quiet, cemeteries are quieter, but the confines of a church– the solid memories she had of them, had always supplied her with a sense of stillness. the lidded flames against glass stained windows as the candles flickered in a peaceful dance. it still wasn’t peaceful enough, as the invading thoughts of risking her own life threatened her sanity.

as the doors opened behind her as she sat in her darkened disguise, she felt the the chill of the windy and rainy night air fill the room to disturb her peace. she kept quiet, hoping the other wouldn’t speak.

[svvvnny]

rohancism

As the old man shuffled away, Rohan thought himself to be in the clear until a shadow fell over him. It blocked out the harsh fluorescent lights, and he gulped.  The urge to relieve his bladder became imminent, and his leg began to shake. The familiarity of the voice propelled him into tying his shoelaces. “Hello!” Came Rohan’s immediate reply, his voice a few octaves higher than usual. He double-knotted then returned to his feet, plucking at a can of tomatoes to put in his basket.

“Me? Run? Of course not,” Rohan weighed his options. Turns out, running was indeed the only option. It had been a week from hell; this was the last thing he needed. “I was just, um, here. Shopping. But then I realised my laces were undone. Safety first!” A loud, forced laugh escaped him. “Anyway, it was nice to see you! Hope all is well.” He shifted on his feet and began to edge away. “We’ll catch up some other time, yes? I’m afraid I have, uhm, somewhere to be.”

    Turning her gaze from the salt content of the noodles clutched in her manicured fingers to his visibly distressed exterior, she arched a brow and looked him over, her expression a mixture of amusement and pity. Sunny let her brown irises drop to his feet, eyeing the laces with feigned interest as she listened to him ramble. “You did a good job there, well done” she crooned, voice honey sweet, wrinkling her nose at him.       When he started to try to get away from her, she inclined her head at Ronan who was a few feet behind, standing menacingly. “Oh really? What a shame. It’s been such a long time. Hey, hows about we give you a ride, huh?” she blinked up at him, her eyes doe-like and sweet, their deep brown reminiscent of chocolate, but a deep glint in them showing the spark of mischief. “We can talk in the car, it’ll be nice” anyone eavesdropping would simply hear a sweet young girl offering another a ride, a catch up, but both of them knew it was a much darker situation than that, the undercurrent between them sparking as their eyes met, hers steady and sinister, his worried and panicked. Exactly how the mafia princess liked it.

[svvvnny]

simonmuhn

Simon hoped that Sunny wouldn’t sense his nervousness. Because if Sunny sensed his nervousness, then wouldn’t her father? A man whose job consisted of making sure people were never heard from again. He couldn’t not think about that fact as Sunny’s familiar face greeted him at the door.

Before he could say anything, Sunny slipped the bottle of wine he’d just purchased out of his arms. Simon considered protesting, but when she replaced it, a wave of thankfulness andmore nervousness washed over him. If Simon had brought him the wrong bottle of wine, would Giovanni Ricci suddenly decide that he no longer liked Simon?

“Right…” He swallowed hard and followed Sunny into her grand manor. Simon tried not to think about what all the man had to do to afford a house like this in a city like Crystalline each month. “I am breathing,” Simon bent down to whisper in Sunny’s ear. Sure, her father wasn’t a dragon. But he was one of the most powerful men in the city. This wasn’t like conversations with Lucien; while those conversations were slightly intimidating in their own way, the reminder that they were still a team prevented Simon from being overly nervous. But Giovanni? He was simply affiliated with the Syndicate. Sure, he liked Simon now, but with one wrong move, no one would hear from him again.

They reached the smoking room and, for the first time, Simon met Sunny’s father in person rather than through pictures or messages passed along. “Um –” He began, then quickly cleared his throat. “It’s a pleasure to meet you sir. I brought you a, ah, bottle of wine,” He continued with his eyes momentarily flicking to Sunny. “I’m sure you’ve heard this before, but uh, your house really is beautiful. Thank you. For, er, inviting me.”

     He looked so nervous, it truly deeply amused her how scared he looked looking around her home. When he whispered closely to her ear, she dodged her head to the side and glared up at him in vague annoyance at the personal space intrusion. “Well just calm down, okay? He’s not that bad!” she hissed in response, flipping her long blonde hair over her shoulder nonchalantly.      It was quite tiring, knowing that most people conceived her father as this tyrannical, cold and calculating being just because he was the head of one of the biggest crime families in the state. No-one took the time to try and look past that label, they didn’t see the Giovanni who taught her how to whistle when she was seven, the doting father who attended every single school play and talent show she ever performed in in her childhood and adolescence, the widow standing at his wifes funeral, holding her hand and telling her everything would be okay whilst crying and mourning the loss of the woman he had loved so dearly. Sure, Giovanni Ricci was the head of the mafia, but he was also a human, her father and the most humble and loving man she knew. So Simon’s apprehension, while she understood it, was irritating.      As they rounded on the smoking room, she stepped inside and scanned it with suspicious eyes. The cigar had been, mercifully, extinguished and her father was stood at the window still, hands clasped at his waist as he waited for them expectantly. At Simons greeting, a wide smile, reminiscent of his daughters, spread across his face and he held out a hand to shake the mans jovially. “Please, call me Giovanni, you’re a friend of the Ricci family there’s not need to be so formal” he chuckled, pulling Simon into what Sunny could see was a very awkward hug. Accepting the wine, he appraised the bottle and let out a booming laugh “ah, I can see that my daughter has been giving you wine buying tips, Sangiovese is my favourite, thank you very much” his voice was warm and full of gratitude for the small gift, Sunny bared her own teeth in a smile and shook her head “nope, daddy. He just has excellent taste” she crooned, stepping forwards and placing a hand on Simons shoulder, gently pulling him away from her fathers clutches and directing him to a chair before taking the bottle “why don’t I go and open this, lets have a glass before dinner, shall we?” she suggested, stepping over to the glass cabinet and opening it to retrieve three wine glasses. “A wonderful idea!” Giovanni agreed, clapping his hands together and rubbing them as he made his way towards the cluster of chairs surrounding the coffee table and fireplace on which there were an array of family photos on display.      “So, Simon, how are things with work? I hope that old dog Lucien isn’t working you into the ground” he chuckled, leaning back in his chair before accepting his drink from Sunny, whose other hand was outstretched towards Simon with a secondary glass waiting for him to take it.

[svvvnny]

Snuggle: What’s your dream date? Soft: Who makes you feel safest? Sweet: Is there a song that makes you feel light?

Snuggle:

“I really like playing tourist on dates, going around the city and doing cheesy stuff like taking photos with statues. It’s fun.”

Soft:

“Daddy. He’s always protected me, especially since what happened with my Mom.”

Sweet:

“This one.”

[svvvnny]

comfort and smooch

Comfort: Where is your safe place? ♡

“My bed, or Moms wardrobe. I can hide in my bed, but there’s something really comforting about sitting with all her old clothes. Dad never threw them out and keeps them exactly how she used to like them, they still smell like her perfume too, which is nice.”

Smooch: Kiss on the cheek, forehead, or nose? ♡

“Forehead, it’s the most comforting in my opinion.”

[svvvnny]

Soft Asks

Soft: Who makes you feel safest? ♡

Sweet: Is there a song that makes you feel light? ♡

Hug: Do you like physical affection? ♡

Cuddle: Do you prefer being the big or little spoon? ♡

Snuggle: What’s your dream date? ♡

Smooch: Kiss on the cheek, forehead, or nose? ♡

Flower: What’s your favorite smell? ♡

Breeze: If you could go anywhere, where would you go? ♡

Pastel: What’s the most calming color to you? ♡

Cookie: Is there a food that makes you happy? ♡

Warm: What’s your ideal temperature? ♡

Comfort: Where is your safe place? ♡

[svvvnny]

     Ever since she’d returned home, Giovanni Ricci had been singing her saviours praises like there were no others involved in her escape from the compound. That, coupled with the fact she wasn’t allowed to leave the house until he was certain there was no chance of her being taken again, was really beginning to grate on the petite girls nerves. One morning over breakfast, her father mentioned once more how pleased he was that she was home and how he couldn’t thank the syndicate and Simon enough. A sweet smile encompassed her features as she looked over the table at him, head lilting as she picked up her glass of orange juice. “Why don’t we invite him for dinner? So you can say thank you properly?” a gasp, hands flying in the air as he practically choked about how good of an idea it was, she shook her head slightly and returned to her meal.      When Sunny had invited him, she could tell by his tone that he was taken aback, perhaps a little worried about the whole situation. Despite her constant reassurances, he seemed extremely nervous and unwilling about the evening. But she knew that he knew better than to decline, and so the evening of their dinner arrived and she sat on the end of her bed, combing her newly dyed-blonde hair and admiring the dress she wore. It was a formal affair, after all, she wouldn’t be seen dead in sweatpants at dinner, even in her own home.      Heading down the stairs, her heels clicked on the wooden floors as she checked in on the dining room, watching the maid fussing over the table arrangements. A roll of her eyes and she turned back around, wandering through the rooms and poking her head into the smoking room, where her father stood looking out of a window, smoking a cigar and clutching a glass of brandy. He turned when she entered and smiled at her, Sunny skipped into the room and up to his side, pressing a kiss to his cheek and rearranging his tie gently. “He’ll be here soon, air the room out. I don’t think he smokes and it’s impolite” she chided softly, opening the window so the clean air could get in. The older man chuckled, his voice deep and gravelly as he pressed his lips to her forehead and looked at her “I don’t like your hair blonde, dye it back dark again soon” he replied simply, rubbing her shoulder as she wrinkled her nose at him and left the room. The knock at the door came just as she made it to the entrance hall, waving off a staff member, she made to answer it herself.      Simon looked nervous, that’s for sure, but he’d at least made an effort for the occasion. The blonde smiled at him and stepped aside, letting him into her home with a gracious “welcome to the Ricci manor”. One look at the bottle of wine in his hands and she swiftly plucked it from him, stepping to the side and rustling behind a large decorative plant where the re emerged with a different, more suitable bottle for him to gift her father. “Daddy would rather die than drink a semillon” she whispered, pressing the new bottle into his hands and winking. She gestured for him to follow, leading back towards the smoking room which would now hopefully be free of actual smoke, so they could sit and have a drink whilst they waited to be called for dinner. “Try and breathe or something, daddy isn’t a dragon. He really likes you, I promise.”

@svvvnny

Simon wouldn’t pretend that he wasn’t scared of Sunny’s dad. And Sunny. And any member of Sunny’s family that included themselves in her dad’s line of work. Sure, he was part of a villain organization, and he was even somewhat high up within that organization. But the mob? Those were people Simon absolutely didn’t want to mess with. Even if Ange seemed to have a good relationship with them. One wrong move and Simon could simply disappear. He didn’t understand how that thought didn’t terrify other people.

As such, a dinner invitation wasn’t something Simon could just ignore. It should be an honor, he supposed, but the invitation couldn’t have made Simon more worried. He changed his outfit at least three times and spent way too long deciding on a glass of wine at the liquor store. Because the Ricci’s would expect him to bring wine, wouldn’t they? To dress up nicely? To know which fancy spoon to eat soup with and which fork was for salad? He should’ve just canceled the outing, but Simon had the feeling that declining an invitation from a mafia boss wasn’t a smart idea. Even if Sunny insisted he was well liked.

Despite his worrying, Simon refused to be late. In the end, he chose a bottle of wine that seemed expensive enough and arrived at the Ricci residence with more than enough time to spare. Was he sweating? He felt like he was sweating, and while it looked dry in his rearview mirror, he knew it was only a matter of time before he’d have to use the all-too-fancy napkins the Ricci’s undoubtedly had to hide his nervousness.

While Simon could attempt to hide his nervousness, he couldn’t hide in his car forever. He reluctantly pushed the door open, stepped outside, and stood in front of the front door. He briefly wondered how many guards were likely hidden, if any weapons were pointed at him if he made the wrong move, but ultimately decided he didn’t want to know. So, instead, he knocked at the door.

[svvvnny]

cuspx

they were a great team. it’s funny what a band of unlikely heroes could get accomplished. it was scary to think how much blood she could get used to seeing once the fight or flight of it all kicked in.

the yelp coming from Sunny’s mouth caused her nothing but more worry and stress, as she continued to try and fight off the Dove in her face. she had no time to even glance at the wound in Sunny’s bicep. her defensive dodges and weaving from incoming and violent hands was the only saving grace of her combative skills. still scared of hurting the Doves, she pulled her punches, trying her best to strictly, and still apprehend. habits, however, only work when you practice for the expected. she was breaking her own rules. expect the unexpected.

when sounds of a second, third, and fourth gun began to fire shots, her eyes widened– the fear paralyzing her once again. this time fear for her own life. fear that she would be the one to be wounded. would they watch her lifeless body hit the wall, and walk away just as she did with the other? would they carry her body out of there? would she be left– her remains to be experimented on, and her soul in a fit of fury for what the Doves had done to her? or would she go peacefully and seep into the starlight transcending the building and the world altogether? would she finally find her grace? would they inform her roommate? would her friends finally know the truth about her?

these are the thoughts that invade the mind when your doubts of survival take over.

she wasn’t cut out for any of this. even after watching Sunny take down the guard so effortlessly in front of her, even after knowing that both Gwisin and the brunette were shooting at incoming Doves, she couldn’t move. the fear was taking over yet, again, and it was beginning to push through, especially with how trembling her hands were becoming. the terrifying thought that she could very well drop the only weapon of defense and her muscles working in overdrive.

but she did as she was told, she tried her best to hold the front line of defense, down the hall and to the left, and it’s where the words incinerator could be read, “This way.”

she found it after simple instructions, after turning her face to see the incoming threats that were dropping like flies in front of her eyes. she ate her words, there was a bitter taste in her mouth in admitting that Gwisin had the best intentions of bringing his firearm, she had to remember to thank him for his bravery and courage. she thought she’d have plenty of time to do so, but there was a final shot in the air, and a ripping sensation in her leg. and after hearing rather delayed sounds of a shell falling to the ground, she met that wall in front of her all too quickly to catch her fall. there weren’t words to ever describe the piercing feeling of being grazed by a bullet. there weren’t plans of her brain acknowledging what happened in the first place. the blood in her veins could mask that pain, couldn’t it?

she tried her best to not think about it. she had civilians to save. they had to get out of there. she had to be strong. “Q-quicky.” she stumbled, “We have to get outside. While we have time. We have to go! Now!”

     Mind threatening to slip back into it’s dazed state, Sunny pinched her cheek and shook her head to try and keep focus. They needed to get out of here, walking backwards, she stumbled a few times, the collar on her neck a constant reminder that she was actually a mutant and not a simple human girl like she’d always believed. She was gonna have to have a long chat with her father when she finally got home, maybe the man would be able to shed some light on her situation.      Her left arm was aching, the warmth trickle of blood seeping down her slender bicep almost tickled and she glared at it for a second before her attention was snatched again by an enforcer rounding the corner behind them, she fired her gun two, three times and he was downed. Almost tripping over another body, she crouched and picked up the deceased's gun also, tucking it into her waistband. you never know.      At Simons question, she looked over her shoulder and frantic eyes scanned the corridor around them “that one” she pointed at a door a few feet away from him “the incinerator chute is in that room, get inside, hurry” her voice was panicked, yet firm. they needed to get out of here as soon as possible. Eyes travelled to cusp and down to her newly injured leg “you should wrap that up as soon as possible, not now, get into the incinerator room we can barricade it from the inside.” firing another few shots at some guards who threatened to follow them, she walked backwards into the room, following after everyone else.      There wasn’t much in terms of creating a blockade for the door, but there was enough, a table and chairs, filing cabinet and some laundry baskets full of bloody scrubs and prisoner uniforms. Opening the hatch to the chute, she peered down into the darkness with a sceptical eye, maybe this wasn’t the best idea? They were here now, they had to do it. “Simon, you should go first, then Mimi, so you can catch her at the bottom” she turned and looked at him with serious eyes “then cusp, then i’ll follow after” the sounds of footsteps outside the door caused her heartbeat to quicken, and she motioned for the others to move quickly, there wasn’t any time to argue semantics, she crouched and aimed the gun at the door, hoping the guards didn’t try to break in, but ready if they did do so.

@timcslipx

[svvvnny]

     too long had he been taking things that weren’t his. sure, gil may be a master thief, but there are some things you just don’t take. the yoghurt had been the tip of the iceberg, but since then it seemed the man had made it his personal mission to take everything she put in the communal fridge at HQ and eat it. and so, she laid a trap. a trap only someone as dumb as gil could fall for. a few drops of ghost chilli essence, four more than suggested, mixed into a red bell pepper hummus was all she needed. the young girl heard the cry from her seat, she’d been doing some casual research, hidden from view, and perked up immediately. heading towards the kitchen, the petite girl stifled a laugh at the scene in front of her. searching for a cure for the obvious burning in his mouth, shed heard her name called and made eye contact with him in the reflection of the refrigerator.

     “gilbert,are you okay? all the milk went out today so i tipped it all away... i hope you weren’t looking for some milk tea...” her face held the innocence of a child, eyes burning with deep mischief.

Special Short: “ Yogurt Wars, Now on Food Network! ” | @svvvnny ; before capture

        Who knew that a single swoop of hummus on a baby carrot would be his undoing?                                                   Oh, that’s right. Sunny knew.

Head jammed underneath the kitchen faucet, obscenities dribbled out of his mouth in between frantic gulps of cold water. “What is wrong with you people?” he shouted. “My mouth is chafing worse than a speedster’s thighs.” Gilbert dashed to the fridge and his shoes squelched against the ghost pepper spiked hummus splattered over the kitchen floor. He yanks open the door and searches for something – anything – that he could rinse his mouth with. But apart from another bubbling pitcher of Han and Dot’s Home Brewed Band-aid Tea, he was out of luck. He slammed the fridge door shut. And in the reflection the metallic appliance, he saw the familiar combination of winged eyeliner and a high ponytail.

“Sunny.” 

[svvvnny]

How do you feel about the experimentation rooms? Tell us about the worst things you've witnessed, heard, and personally experienced. Are you afraid for when it's your turn?

eyes fall immediately to her feet and the small girl seems to shrink even moreso into herself, her body trembling as she recalls painful memories she would rather push aside. “blood. lots of blood. more than i’ve ever seen before, some of it mine. they don’t always clean up before they take you in, they like you to see what they’ve done.” she presses her lips together, brows furrowing. “they made me run, shot at me, bullets, arrows, all sorts of things. there were charges in the ground, i had to dodge them all. then they either drugged me or cut my legs and made me do it again.” she sniffs, eyes welling up as she thinks about it “i don’t ever want to go back in there, but i know they’ll make me. i can’t even fight them any more. i’m too scared. when you fight, they make the procedures worse.”

[svvvnny]

How do you feel about the League? Do you know any of them? If so who's your favorite super hero?

“i’ve done extensive research on the league for ange, i don’t know any of them personally but i know about them.” at the last question her brow arches and she rolls her eyes “i’m not twelve, i don’t have a favourite. they’re all idiots clinging to a stupid ideology. who would respect that?”

[svvvnny]

What questions are you afraid that the Doves may interrogate you about? Now, answer those questions for us.

she shifts uncomfortably, averting her gaze as she clenches her fingers into tight fists and flexes them again. she doesn’t want to answer this question, but she can’t not. taking a breath, she tries to formulate a diplomatic response. “my parents. my mother is dead and my father is the head of the best known crime family in the state. it’s a sensitive subject.”

[svvvnny]

What's it like knowing you have mutant abilities now?

“weird. i still don’t know precisely what they are. all i know is that this stupid collar makes me feel heavy, dumb, useless. i hate it.”

[svvvnny]

would you ever consider working for the league?

“i’ve not thought about it.” she replies honestly, shrugging “i go where i’m told, until i’m head of the family it’s not my place to be calling shots. besides, i don’t really think my image fits with those goody two shoes.”

[svvvnny]

what's the most outrageous thing your dad has done for you?

she’s lucid for once, strapped to the chair, staring at the ceiling blankly. they always do this, vary the questions from being criminally invasive, to almost friendly chatter. the question brings an arch of her brow and a quirk to her lips “not that you really care, but for my sweet sixteen he rented out city hall and booked bruno mars to play for me.” she flinches as they insert another needle, taking more blood samples. hell, they must have taken half her bodyweights worth by now. “you’re going to be sorry for this” she says simply, eyes fixed on a corner of a ceiling tile, its edge a little darker than the rest. the doctor simply chuckles under his breath and shuffles away.