#afterdeaths

[never-surrender]

@afterdeaths \\ Blue

He was hurt ... quite badly, in fact. Enough so that he didnt' want to go home to his brother and potentially risk a lecture about being more careful... so the next best place? Was Nat's. He wasnt entirely certain she'd be awake this late at night as he made his way slowly towards her home...

Though rather than knocking on her front door like a normal person, he climbed to her window of her bedroom, knocking on the glass plane weakly.

"Ay... lemme in would'ya?" he called, voice muffled thanks to the window. Granted, he could have just broken in ...

The sight of him wasn't entirely the greatest thing to walk in on or wake up to. Face bloodied, eye blackened, his arm hanging at a weird angle from being out of socket, at minimum his glamor was still firmly in place to hide his scars. She knew he was a demon ... but that didn't mean she had to know about the gruesome scars that littered the vast majority of his body

[amused-bouche]

@afterdeaths for Orion!

Theo had joined his sister at the bar after the concert. It seemed like plenty of people had the same idea she had, and that was to keep the party going. He didn't mind, but after all of the loud music, his sensitive ears needed a break.

He got himself a drink before he found himself a more quiet spot (which wasn't all that quiet) to hang out, only realizing he might have invaded someone's space a little too late. "Oh, shit, sorry. I didn't realize this spot was taken. Do you mind if I chill here for a second?"

His brows raise as he realizes this was one of the guys from the band they'd just seen. "Great show by the way." He offered a smile.

[bldrdsh]

@afterdeaths / starter call ( nikolai kane )

He huffs, leaning over for a second with the grappling hook still dangling from the stone he'd fastened it to before glancing up through a nearby opening out onto the open natural landscape.

Hunt successes always felt the best when received with a view. Out in the wilds here, he vividly recalls the last time he was out like this. The indescribable excitement that came. This had been what Karter & Katrina had said was the true appeal of hunting was.

A moment passes, and air exhales through nostrils, glancing about the tunnel system before him before rubbing his chin with his open hand.

"Onwards & upwards, Kane."

[noblehigh]

starter for @afterdeaths : rian .

god, he missed this. hands are on either side of whiskey's face, giving him some good pets, and the pure bliss on brian's face would be hard to miss. animals have always been his happy place, and after not seeing them for so long ( and after everything he's found out ), they're a happy escape yet again. " you're just a handsome boy, " he praises, giving the large horse a firm pat at the base of his neck.

the man catches his peripheral, and he turns his head to lock gazes with him over the gate. " what's good? " he pipes up, chin doing a nod upwards as he speaks. " you just move in? " he swears he's never seen this guy-- but then again, brian can be so unaware of his surroundings, this guy could have honestly lived there for the last ten years.

[aintashes]

daryl's hands make quick work of pulling his crossbow from his shoulder, bolt already notched in its deadly groove as it's pointed at @afterdeaths' head. he hasn't seen anyone new out here in long enough that a stranger suddenly appearing is somewhat suspicious to him. to be fair, daryl's outings have not exactly been frequent as of late, but he's not the only one from his communities who comes out here.

in the old days of alexandria, daryl would have been perfectly happy to find someone new. it was his job, aaron's smiling face right by his side the whole way. now, though, resentment boils in his gut at the thought of bringing in someone new. at the hurt they could bring with them. ‘ drop it, ’ he demands. the stranger's weapon is of no consequence to him. he's confident that he's a better shot.

‘ drop it! now! ’

[sanatoris]

He doesn’t mirror it in his features, but it PAINS him to see them in such a state, the fabrics barely and slowly held as their hands shake as if their nerves are malfunctioning. Only a silent sigh escapes his lungs, nodding at their words of gratitude. 

A big part of him WANTS to inquire, to dig for details; maybe he can do something to aid? Yet, he stays silent, no questions dropped. It’s not the first time he treats someone without letting curiosity get in the way, always a zip on those lips as his miracle hands work their magic, the only exception are the needed medical inquiries for the sake of a necessary, better outcome. Now is not the time. 

—Felix

His name is muttered softly as a hand gets a hold of his arm, ready to let them be for a little while. Their request only stirs his desire to dig deeper. He is not naive nor ignorant, his experience is telling him this is not just any injury; it needs high velocity and strength to inflict such damage, and it seems secondary after an initial blow, the shape of it alone gives off it is probably caused by blunt force and not a sharp object.

Another sigh is let out, this time loud enough for them to hear, gaze escapes theirs momentarily before LOCKING again. He can see the worry in their eyes, this is no trivial matter, they have seen great danger.   ❝  I’ll try my best.  ❞   He doesn’t throw empty promises, only words that he means. His hand grips theirs, gentle but firm, as if to assure, to calm, patting a few before slipping away.   ❝  I’ll be in the kitchen; you need to eat for the antibiotics not to kick your digestive system with no mercy.  ❞   

Little did they know, he is no foreigner to the world of ugly supernatural creatures, his DESTINY is one he himself would never predict. 

@afterdeaths cont from x

[deceivesthem]

@afterdeaths gets a random starter for Timothy !

there are some things better left unexplained --- some things better left unspoken. this is perhaps one of those things. Oliver didn't know where else to go. then again, he struggled to comprehend much of anything as he stands at the door of Timothy's residence, soaked to the bone. the rain is pouring hard---it's desire to wash away all of the things Oliver had done is evident. he stands there looking lost, a far away look in his eye. he doesn't know how he's gotten here, but it's the first place he thought to go. he had nowhere else to turn to---no one else to turn to. Timothy is the only thing he has in his life that is good---the sunlight in an otherwise dark and gloomy world. his fist raises to knock on the door, bruised and bloodied knuckles rasp against the frame. the rain has washed away most of the blood by now, but if you look close enough, you can still see the way it stains his skin, his clothes, his entire being. part of of it will never wash away, no matter how many times he cleans, no matter how hard he scrubs---it'll never leave. he knocks on the door again, louder, a silent plea on his lips. his eyes dart away from the frame suddenly, a noise startling him. it's only a raccoon scurrying into the safety of a trash can, yet it leaves a lasting effect on Oliver, haunted by things only he can see.

[never-surrender]

@afterdeaths cont:

Pain wasn't a new concept to Aurelia. In fact it felt oddly ... satisfying, to feel something as intense as she felt now, injured as she was. The gaping wounds were making her lose quite a bit of blood, and while she did have a potion on hand, it hadn't been enough to do much more than take her off of deaths doorstep. Granted, should she die, she'd simply mist to her coffin and return. But that was beside the point.

The worst part of the entire endeavor, however ... was the hunger. Losing blood always made her feel that way...

"No... no please don't apologize," she speaks earnestly, approaching him as she produces another potion from her pack. The crimson liquid within the bottle gleams in the dim light of the Underdark as she presses it into his hands, her hands shaking just enough to be noticed... though as he speaks again those hands still entirely, her body growing rigid with tension.

"...No.." she speaks quietly at first, shaking her head as she pulls her hands away, one hand held to her chest while the other comes to cup his cheek tenderly, aiming to re-angle his head back straight so his neck was no longer bared to her. "I ... I can't.." she could. She no longer was under the control of Cazador, after all....

And what was more? She needed blood. And soon... and she damn well knew it.

[solrites]

@afterdeaths, for zee - from marianne, with extreme irritation.

" GIRL , WHAT THE FUCK. " oh, alright. that's a nice introduction, isn't it. marianne throws up her arms in an exasperated shrug (and it should be noted that's fairly impressive - considering she has a broom in her hands). but she doesn't look pissed off, at the concept of a trespasser on the roof of the shop. more exasperated. extremely inconvenienced. "i thought there was a FATASS BIRD on this roof i was about to have to scare off -- cause fuck knows nobody else would get on this roof -- and there's some bleach blonde 2009 mall punk on the roof. there's water damage on this bitch. oh, i hope your ass falls through."

[amused-bouche]

@afterdeaths

Cal had found himself a nice spot that was a little more off to the side, deciding that for whatever reason, being in the front or smack dab in middle of the room made him feel just a little off.

He hung his leather riding jacket off the back of his chair, getting comfortable in his seat, arms loosely crossed over his chest.

He'd always wondered what these fancy ass sounding burlesque shows were supposed to be like, only really ever hearing that there were supposed to be really pretty women in them. He really had no idea what to expect.

[bldrdsh]

@afterdeaths / starter call ( camden maitland )

There's a moment where eyes move focus, head turning back as he looks up at the sky. He's on some dumb scouting mission out in the jungle. He's sure Lizzie would be laughing at him for his chosen line of work landing him here, but at this point he just wants out.

Hands rest on his hips as the sun starts to peak over the horizon, and the day seems to be coming to its beginning. Though with that comes the arduous reality that he has the whole day yet to face.

"God dammit."

IT'S SOFTLY uttered as he over looks the edge of the horizon, situated on a higher cliff to give him good vantage to the valley below.

[delicaciies]

starter for @afterdeaths : xander .

❝ firstly, under no circumstances, are we telling brian about this, ❞ because, yeah-- no. she isn't doing the protective brother thing. she needs to blow off steam, she needs to participate in the same thing everyone else gets to participate in ( even if she doesn't have the same means to defend herself, nor the experience ). though, the more the thought bounces around in her mind, she decides, ❝ well, okay-- we aren't telling him until.. after.. ❞ that should ease the guilt. ❝ i'm going to order a 'do now, and ask for forgiveness later'. ❞

vigorously, she puts the pep in her step as she sits next to her brother-in-law on the couch, handing him a mug with hot tea while she sips her own. ❝ what are we going for? ghoul? goblin? ghost? -- something slimy? ❞

[smokedanced]

                                          @afterdeaths    /    cont. from ↷

He’s actively engaging in several  stupid behaviours  with her... tailing a likely assassin alone, check. Not carrying a gun while at it, check. Having suspected her for a chunk of time long enough he’s had every chance to inform Jack about her but choosing not to do so, check. No one knows where he is and what he’s doing, check. It’s not that he wants to get murdered... it’s that Jack Crawford annoys him, and his head hurts whenever he lets himself stay still long enough to think... and tailing this woman involves moving with purpose and focus, so.

One might tell him to get a better hobby.

He doesn’t really care if he’s being reckless. He’s curious; he wants to see if he can figure something out, here. The satisfaction of going back to the FBI and slamming a solved case they weren’t even aware of on the table... Mostly, Will’s simply  curious.  Catching a killer, if he really speaks honestly to himself, is a secondary goal.

She’s good; it’s not easy, tracking her. She walks as if she knows someone is after her, which she very well might. In patterns of trying to shake him. Could be she’s just careful, which is more than can be said about Will.

She’s good. But he’s... FBI-adjacent.

That said, he’s also aware he’s being stupidly reckless. She’s faster than him, more agile, like a cat running from a dog, idly; above him and all of this, so certain she’ll get away if she wishes to (or that’s the narrative he constructs, on instinct). Yet he follows. With ease, onto the more obscured alleyways. For a second he’s unsure... but there’s the doorway.

& he should know better. Maybe deep down he does. A perfect place for an ambush. Too slow, he cannot argue that.

His hand goes to grab for the pistol at the small of his back, but he’s not carrying it, and the movement costs him time he could have used to defend himself; too slow, she’s already tightened the cuff around his wrist by the time he reorients himself. Trapped, a knife pressing to his throat,  he feels like prey.  Animalistic, his senses prickling, adrenaline rushing:  it feels good.  Exhilarating, somehow.

He tilts his chin up an inch, almost presses closer to the blade. The handcuffs rattle as he tests them, metal biting into skin, too tight.

❝ Me? ❞    he asks, with a laugh, slightly out of breath. As if there were other people in their vicinity.    ❝ Well, you could say... that I’m with the FBI. ❞    He continues to be stupid and reckless on purpose.    ❝ Lucky for you... the FBI isn’t with me. Not so lucky for me, perhaps. ❞    He doesn’t try to grab her knife with his free hand. He isn’t that stupid and reckless.

[cragsnow]

@afterdeaths — continued from this post: (x)

he's crouched in front of the sofa bed that lives in matthew's studio, watching him with soft eyes that betray the care he has for this man. it's strange, really, how he's known him for so little time, and yet he resides so resolutely in his chest already.

no, actually, it's not surprising. it's a pattern that he's recognised but has absolutely no control over stopping. there's an inevitable hurt brewing on the horizon, one that will come when he realises he's in too deep, when he won't be able to keep himself from pushing this man away, trying to save him from an imagined circumstance that felix has projected onto the situation. i'm profoundly unlucky, felix will tell him. i'm a bad omen. everyone who's ever loved me has died.

but for now, all he has to worry himself about is making sure that matthew gets over this current bout of sickness he's going through. whatever may happen in the future can wait until then. ‘ ssh, relax, ’ and he reaches out to gently push away a few strands of hair that have fallen onto matthew's forehead. as his fingers brush against skin, he can feel how clammy the other man is. he must have a fever coming on, which isn't going to be fun for either of them. ‘ i've got you. ’ and that's a promise he intends to keep. ‘ have you slept much? ’

[stainedpast]

He never forgets a face he sets eyes on, especially a beautiful one, such as theirs. When they talk to a customer, he can hear the similarity in their voice to the one that thanked the crowd after it beautifully sang. It’s them, yeah. He approaches the receptionist after having finished his business in this building, polite in the way his voice is low. ❝ Excuse me, Ms.- ❞ He steals a look at their name brooch pinned to their clothes. ❝ -Fletcher. I could be mistaken, but I believe to have seen you last evening singing at the bar across. Am I mistaken? ❞

@afterdeaths | sc

[noblehigh]

starter for @afterdeaths : xander .

it's damn near unimaginable that he would be bold enough to show up, but he is back in his righteous mind. he was sent back, he thinks, to keep an eye on them, but he has such a different perspective. that dark side of him isn't corrupting him, making him into some cruel dictator that strives to punish to calculate results rather than teaching.

he had attempted to come over earlier, but was met with death. this time around, he opts for simply showing up and knocking. when the familiar face answers the door, he gives a small smile ( it's genuine, exuding sympathy for his past cruelties ). " xander, " spoken with a newfound pep, the smile turns wider. he is, after all, one half of brian, and just as the sight of the demon before him excites his darker counterpart, he too is happy to see him ( plus, he was with him for over a year ). but he realizes ( far too late, especially for having given such a long, awkward, silent smile for so many moments ) that he looks different, and the man probably has no idea who he is. god... how does he put this delicately? " i believe we.. know each other. well, you know my other half better, but.. i am the angel who was here. and i have.. come to apologize. "