#valour-bound

[darckcarnival]

“Hey,” The blonde drawls, fidgeting lazily with a pen, rolling it atop the surface of the vampire’s desk. Glancing up, he grins, a shit eating, cheeky smile before he continues. “So . . . I was wondering — for vampires, don’t they have that whole thing with not being able to cross running water?”

Leon goes silent for a moment, lips twitching as he braces.

“. . . How do baths work exactly?”

@braverybled

Darck had been chilling at one of her safe houses in the city, taking some time to simply have a breather, as well as a few meetings and paper work. As a result it allowed friends of the more normal variety to drop by for a coffee, a visit, some sort of showing of just living. Being normal, for once.

At least, as normal as could get for Darck and any one of her friends.

It's what had the woman sitting at her temporary work desk in the small office room next to the kitchen, reviewing a bit of information sent her way from contacts in DC. Those with eyes on whats usually hidden or secret, or ears to hear things spoken behind closed doors or hushed whispers. After all, someone like her had to be aware of these things, to keep herself and her people safe... as well as know where to be, or try and help, from behind the scenes. So much easier this way than it had been years ago, just flying by the seat of her pants! And working off the fly.

So there Darck sat on one side, reading a paper while Leon, whom had come to visit, sat on the other side. Coffee cups still warm and half full, conversations having been had and jokes shared. Just... Enjoyable company.

But, just as Darck was lifting her mug to take a drink, Leon spoke again. Earning a soft 'Hm?' With his question of water. Eyes flicking over the typed words on the page in her other hand- Only for that gaze to snap up and stare at Leon with a confused and surprised look. Sputtering on her coffee and coughing. Paper shoved aside and coffee mug clacked down on the wood top.

"Wh-BATHS?!"

Should have known better, the woman releasing an exasperated laugh. He always asked random shit like that when it came to old school lore about Vampires. Last time was coffins, and before that gravity and wall walking. And here they were even worse. Leaving the brunette huffing a wheezed laugh as she caught her breath.

A shake of her head as she recovered with a sharp inhale. "Okay mister smart guy, oh my god... Okay, okayokay. For one, a bath is not running water! Hahaha, and yes, I take baths. Well, mostly showers... Actually yeah just showers. And that IS running water! The whole running water thing only truly affects certain breeds of vampire, incredibly rare. And I am thankfully not that kind."

"What, you saying I need a shower? Mister smelling of gun powder and coffee half the time~?"

[aureatescars]

9 for Chris if that’s alright? 🥺🥺🥺

expression meme

[shireentheunburnt]

From Wights to Zombies

Shireen wasn’t entirely sure when and how things had changed. There hadn’t seemed to be any noticeable warning before stone had changed to wood and brick. It was still cold, still rather dark which the child was thankful for, but it was certainly not where she had been minutes earlier on bidding her mother good night. It had been one of those evenings where the girl had wished to be alone rather than curling up with her mother to ward off the chill... and the nightmares. Rather than attempting to submit to the prison of sleep that her mother sought, the princess had opted to wander instead. 

And then things had changed. 

The scarred child had stepped through the door into what should have been the echoing, foreboding corridor of Castle Black, and emerged into what appeared to be a house’s living room. Turning to look behind herself, the entrance to her mother’s quarters had vanished leaving only a wall in its place. Clutching her charred stag figurine to herself with both hands for comfort, she took a few more tentative steps forward, and called out in the muted hope that someone would answer her. 

“Hello? Hello, is someone there? Please... I... I need help. Is anyone there?” 

@valour-bound

[lcstkey]

Selena “Artemis” Wolfsong  by Sol [ @valour-bound ]

I commissioned Sol for a drawing of Sel in the augmented shire pathfinder’s maiming armor set. And my god, they slayed drawing that armor. I love the detail they put in the armor and she turned out gorgeous. <3 <3 <3 

Thank you Sol!! <3 <3 <3

[ask-dbd-adawong]

“It is not our time to die… probably.”

The mercenary scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Well don’t you sound reassuring. I’ll offer you a little tip. Try that again, but don’t add the ‘probably’ at the end there. The ladies will lose their minds once they realize how confident you sound.” A snarky remark from Ada. She fell back silent, listening to the mechanical humming of the generator; tying the wires together, until she properly secured her wiretap.

With the wiretap in place, nearly on cue; the aura of the killer for this trial came closer into view. Quickly getting up, she began to walk away, not turning back to look at Chris. “Just so we’re clear, I know it’s not my time to die. For your sake, let’s just hope it’s not yours. Catch you later, Redfield~” With a wave, the spy was gone.

[profanecenser]

@valour-bound ☄. *. ⋆ . 👀 ohohoho

Send a 👀 and I will describe how my muse sees yours / what they think of when they look at them.

A tired man; she knows all too well the signs of betrayal in his eyes, as they match her own dead orbs. Was it justified, whoever hurt him? Perhaps a family member, or close friend at the time? It makes Adiris think of her parents- her ORIGINAL parents. The ones who left her on the footsteps of the temple for Haban to find. However. . . the glint also conveys how different their trauma was.

Perhaps. . . they could bond over it. Over their life before the fog took them.

[alphateamsfinest]

^^ : [sender] grabs [receiver’s] hand to drag them to a generator/exit gate

DBD Interaction

Jill doesn't want to go, she doesn't want to leave this trial. Even as the alarm gates are blaring and she knows time isn't on their side she fights- though she fights a beloved teammate rather than their killer. She's earnestly fighting against Chris, digging the heels of her boots in, trying to slip her glove off in order to get away from him. There's the mania there in her bright eyes, looking away from Chris and back toward the killer who has downed one of their own.

"We can kill him, Chris, we can kill him!" It's a desperate plea, even as she hears Leon scream behind her, knowing that Wesker is finishing them and if given the opportunity, his two former STARS members. Jill demands again of Chris, even though it will be useless. There's no way that they can kill Wesker here, this is a Wesker unknown to them outside this realm, a Wesker with the power of a near god. Jill hasn't had the opportunity to face the horror outside of this realm and cannot possibly comprehend how different their skills are. Only once Leon has grown silent does Jill realize the futility of fighting here and follows Chris out, her hand limp in his wrist.

[godstrain]

Any thoughts on Jake Muller? Does Wesker know he has a son and if so how did he come across the news? What was his reaction afterwards or once he does find out?

the deep wesker-lore :)

oh man ok so the answer is no, wesker has no goddamn clue, which is why if he ever crosses paths with jake, he's ... going to be very confused. so per the facts, 10% of people are immune to t-virus and no one knows why. the lore also says jake is immune to c-virus because he has antibodies inherited from wesker. from wesker's point of view, he'd see jake as "someone in the 10%" because this immunity to t-virus somehow seems to extend to other viruses? idk what's going on there, capcom, but ok.

it would take an actual dna test to make him believe that jake was his kid, and then he'd just feel sorta... well, in the end, jake also had a shit childhood, but wesker also knows he doesn't really have what it takes to be a dad, because the father he knew best was spencer and that's such a big yikes. he doesn't know how to process the fact, so he'd probably just jump right to radical acceptance of the fact, and then have no idea how to act around jake.

he wouldn't be mean, but he'd keep his distance, because that's just what he does. kids weren't really something he thought of for himself so??? it's like, yeah- jake's his son, but their bond is purely biological with no actual familial aspect beyond that- and that might be for the best

[bladedflower]

@valour-bound sent: “Considering the stories I’ve heard, I was expecting someone scarier.”

“Now hold on, jury might still be out on that last part.” She’s only half-joking with her response, steel blue eyes focused solely on the bottle of sage, salts, and god knows what other kinds of ingredients that she read would be needed for this mission’s monster of choice. The BSAA may have guns to take care of BOWs (so do the BPRD, but still) but sometimes guns don’t protect you from the ghouls and goons that the BPRD specialized in. She only looked up when she put a cap on the bottle and shook it to mix the ingredients up. “What stories did you hear, anyway?”

[enjomo-arch]

❝  The  four  eyes  lady  really  wanna  go  along  with  whatever  bullshit  I  wanna  pull  off.  She  always  knows  what  to  say  and  is  pretty  good  company.  If  I  had  to  choose  a  drinkin'  buddy  and  someone  to  hang  around  she  would  be  the  first.  I  gotta  know  her  better  though  she  kind  of  always  is  around  and  appears  as  quick  as  she  disappears.  Sometimes  I  wonder  how  she  can  pull  that  off.  Though  whenever  I  spark  a  flame  I  see  her  flinchin'  slightly,  almost  as  she's  afraid  of  it.  Wonder  if  it's  just  the  fire  itself,  don't  wanna  scare  her  away  like  any  other  person.  Darck  sis  is  really  a  deal  and  her  glasses  are  pretty  classy.  Never  seen  ones  like  these  but  who  am  I  to  judge  someone's  taste  of  style,  if  anythin'  she's  rockin'  it  very  well.    ❞  with  a  small  laughter  he'd  look  quite  pleased.  Ace  always  appreciated  good  company  and  Darck  wasn't  an  exception.  

@darckcarnival + @valour-bound : 💬 + Darck? / Darck Darck daRCK 👁️👁️ ( prompt. )

[aureatescars]

— closed starter ft. @valour-bound

"What do you want?" Alexander drawls, adressing the stranger walking up behind him without looking up. He notes the man's steps are heavy, heavier than what he is used to from these people. He makes use of English rather than his mother tongue as he speaks, knowing this person isn't a local, his accent thickened by the drinks he has had over the last few hours.

From the corners of his eyes he can see the barkeeper looking up at him, no doubt frowning at him with suspicion. There isn't many English speaking folk around these parts and he doesn't know Alexander is a teacher.

At the other bar Alexander used to frequent with his friends people knew him; had known him for decades even. But that place was long gone, reduced to rubble during the civil war. -- Here in this part of town he is a stranger and he hasn't bothered making friends just yet.

He doesn't turn his head, instead traces the small crack in the shot glass he holds in his hand. Alexander doesn't make a habit of drinking these days. His doctors would probably have his head for it, too if they knew. Alcohol never mixes well with medication after all, least of all the painkillers, which he has foregone, because today... today needs to be an exception.

"Can't you people just leave me in peace? Nothing has changed." He normally just ignores the American operatives following him around, has gotten used to the ever present agents keeping an eye on him, knows they have been monitoring him for months now. Fear of the plaga returning most likely, for how much of a threat could Alexander possibly be otherwise?

He sets the glass down with a pointedly loud thud, at last turning to face the other man. His wheelchair creaks as he shifts, and he has to fight the urge to flinch with the discomfort sudden movements still cause him.

The gaze of amber eyes is sharp as he meets the stranger's eyes at last. Then, he blinks a few times, confused. This one doesn't look like the people he has come to recognize.

"You're new."

[shireentheunburnt]

once you're stripped clean, what's at your core?

Your Result: flightless bird

the thought of your found family is what motivates you in your own little world. you touch the clouds, and the soil gives way under your footprints... this is utopia. if you were to erase one thing, it would be your memory. experience is important, but ignorance is bliss. identity, in heaven, should give way to happiness. you'd give anything just to sit by the swings and eat ice cream, but this isn't that kind of world. you have to get up and wash the dirt off of your scraped knees. i think you have an escapism problem.

https://uquiz.com/quiz/qjxGLU/once-youre-stripped-clean-whats-at-your-core

Tagged by: @fatescrosscd (thank you :-) )

Tagging: @myersbprd @valour-bound @thecassandradimitrescu @redemptioninchaos @merchantofwhispers

+Anyone who wants to :-)

[camkill]

the jingle of a bell chimes in the quiet din of the little coffee shop as he pushes the front door open, the patrons inside ignorant to the sound and paying him no mind as he passes by tables. it's dimly lit inside, wall lights diffused by gentle shades, brown toned walls and furniture accented by wooden panelling that give the place an overall warm and inviting feel.

though one man stands out from it all in a way that's almost jarring, a figure clearly out of place and offset against the relaxing atmosphere. that must be him, he thinks, sparing just one lingering look before placing his order at the counter ― just a single shot of coffee in a tiny mug that he plans to sip from as he observes. he takes a seat at a single table across the room from where his target is, folding one leg over the other and levelling his gaze. if his stare can be felt... well, he wonders which of them will mention it first.

@valour-bound

[44coltpython]

@valour-bound liked

“You doing alright back there?” Gruff voice checks in on the other as Barry looked over his shoulder. It’s been a rather grueling few days for the BSAA, especially for the few agents that were on the frontlines, like they were. The other happened to be like a son to him, and just as any father would joke to their kid, his voice then picked up a more joking ton as he continued. “You gonna let an old man show you how it's done? Let's get a move on.”

[facesblind]

@valour-bound

∗ 33﹕ sender hovers over receiver’s shoulder as they complete a task . ( IUNNO HES CURIOUS 🥺 )

          𝗰𝗮𝗹𝗹  𝗶𝘁  𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗲,  𝗰𝗮𝗹𝗹  𝗶𝘁  𝗶𝗻𝘀𝗮𝗻𝗶𝘁𝘆.  𝗳𝗼𝗿  𝘁𝗵𝗲  𝘄𝗵𝗼𝗹𝗲  𝘀𝗾𝘂𝗮𝗱,  𝘁𝗼  𝗯𝗲  𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲  —  just  as  her  &&.  leon  are  conducting  an  investigation  in  fucking  alcatraz  of  all  places.  well,  it's  safer  to  say  she's  merely  assisting  from  above  as  the  dso  agent  tours  around  the  sewers  underneath.  disguised  as  tourist,  she  joins  the  group  of  familiar  faces  silhouettes  ;  blends  in  with  the  crowd  (though  neither  jill  nor  claire  tried  to  do  so  considering  their  outfits.  seriously,  ladies,  what  the  fuck?).

          for  questions,  there  will  be  time  later  —  both  to  their  guide  &&.  to  leon's  acquaintances  ;  phrases  like  the  fuck  are  you  doing  here?  and  how  did  you  get  inside  with  a  gun?  have  to  wait,  remaining  undercover  crucial  for  both  parties  involved  in...  whatever's  happening.  about  that,  she  also  wants  to  ask,  alas  the  circumstances  won't  allow  her  to  voice  any  of  her  concerns  aloud.  some  people  though  should  be  banned  from  talking. permanently.

          ❝  i  gotta  say,  uh...  this  bed  suuuucks!  ❞

          vloggers.  architecture  enthusiasts.  receivers  of  awful  trip  oriented  gift - cards.  regular  people.  civillians.

          rattling  of  prison  cell  bars  gives  miriam  a  headache  (fuckin'  youtuber  wannabe)  —  but  that  perhaps  can  be  linked  to  the  sudden  cut  in  communication  with  dso's  golden  boy.  she  can't  hear  him  &&.  there's  a  chance  he  can't  hear  her  either.  so,  are  they  on  the  right  track  with  their  snooping,  or  is  it  just  the  awful  reception?  fuck.

          just  in  case,  a  smartphone  with  cracked  screen  is  taken  out  of  mimi's  pocket,  and  she  types  a  quick  message.  feeling  a  familiar  frame  hovering  over  her,  after  pressing  the  send  button,  she  types  some  more.

[  to:  leonardo  dickarpio  //  from:  Do  Not  Answer!!! ]  whats  wrong  with  the  comms

[  to:  leonardo  dickarpio  //  from:  Do  Not  Answer!!! ]  r  u  ok

          might  seem  stupid  to  send  a  regular  text,  but  she  does  it  nonetheless.  better  safe  than  sorry.

leons  here  too  hes  in  the  sewers  probably  shits  going  down  since  youre  also  here  lol  anyway  been  a  while  whats  up  nice  shirt

          the  attempt  at  some  comedic  relief  is  however  abruptly  interrupted.  familiar  growling  &&.  snarling  reaches  miriam's  ears,  eyes  following  the  direction  of  the  sound.

          not  again...

[buriedabove]

@valour-bound TO CONDOR ONE. BLAIR WITCH PROMPTS.

“ if you think you got some obligation to be here, you don’t. ”

Five days since he last saw daylight.  In person,  no less.  Not the longest he has gone on without stepping outside his basement of an apartment,  but certainly,  it has been a while since he last holed himself up in the gloom like that.  The phone chucked somewhere,  buzzing doggedly underneath old document piles sprinkled with whatever poison swaying in the bottle he was spinning  (  could be bourbon,  could be whiskey,  maybe a combination of both enriched by the cheap beer from that little shop around the corner he reached for whenever higher percentages were beginning to run dry  ).  

His idea of a vacation.  Overly familiar  —  the disquieting comfort of those four walls surrounding him akin to a brittle fortress one wrong move could bring down to the ground  &  the questionable company provided by endless thoughts.  Poking at the wound and splitting it apart again to look up close,  examine it in the candle’s glow and try to find reason and sense behind it all.

The fighting,  the lives lost.

Greater good started feeling more like the new lesser evil as he went on.  Or rather,  it seemed more like he was letting them drag his body across the mud and gravel solely to dump him onto another minefield.  Leon was hoping that perhaps someday it would be worthy,  rewarding.  In his box of trinkets lie dozens of medals and ribbons.  Dusty,  untouched.  Rewards.  For a forlorn hero.  There is not an amount of applause  &  praise,  be it material or not,  which could restore his demolished faith.

Chris’ voice yanks him out of the dismal reverie,  instantly bringing to his attention how he must look right now.  Enthusiastic?  Apparently,  not so much.  But deep down,  the agent is grateful for his friend’s stubbornness and determination.  Otherwise,  Kennedy still would be drinking away at his invite-only pity party.  Leaning back onto the bench,  the old wood squeaks beneath his shifting weight.  Momentarily,  half-lidded eyes wander up to the sky;  the warm beams flowing through the wavering leaves.  Too sunny.  And it is too late to stifle the displeased hiss directed at the oppressive brightness.

“  Thank you for clearing that up.  ”  Gazing at the other with the corner of his eye,  a faint smile quivering his lips almost betrays his act.  “  I thought you were holding me hostage here,  ”  the continued remark eventually topped off with a snort.  Hands fall to his lap,  fingers intertwining.  Now he senses how much they are trembling,  although they shouldn’t.  He takes in a sharp breath,  then his chest slowly sinks.  Leon wants to thank him,  but that would mean being vulnerable.  It’s a promising day,  and he doesn’t want to ruin it.  Low grunt,  absent eyes return to Chris and enliven.  By a tad,  but still.  “  Picked quite a spot,  I’ll give you that.  A charming park,  birds chirping…  Makes me feel like I’m pushing seventy.  ”