tigerstripedsniper

[tigerstripedsniper]

       Sebastian had a few haunts he preferred when he travelled, some men have a girl in every city, but for him it’s a bar. Even if he only spent a day or two anywhere he went, he found he always needed a drink after his work was done, and though he tries to avoid being a creature of habit to avoid predictability, it’s nice to have a safe haven. Somewhere to go and feel a sense of familiarity one usually finds at home. But with the familiar grain of the bar and the photos lining the walls that he finds himself getting lost in examining while listening to the idle chat of patrons over music spilling from the sound system... it’s as good as home. At least while he’s here. 

       Some of his best stories started and ended at bars, and when a pretty lady chooses to sit next to him, he’s not deaf to the sign that this could be the start of another. He glances across when he hears that sigh and smiles at her, eyes glancing down her form as he takes her in. First impression all he can think of is how tiny she is, and he can’t help but find her stature charming. Second impression is that she looks about as comfortable dressed up as he feels in a suit. 

          “Long night?” he speculates, taking a drink as he waits for a reply. 

@tigerstripedsniper liked this post for a starter

The exhibit had been successful but it also left her on edge. Sybil had never been classically trained in art- she’d had the benefit of hours upon hours of obsessive painting that improved her skills more or less by force. When someone had linked her to her pseudonym and asked her to do a show under that name she had agreed without really thinking about it. Unfortunately, after spending a few of hours talking to people, she realized that art enthusiasts were obsessed with meaning and symbolism. What a cruel trick that she could talk about her abstracts until she was blue in the face but when it came to her true works- her visions- her tongue was completely tied. 

         Fancy canapés and a single glass of champagne could only get a girl so far with that kind of turmoil and by the end of the evening all she wanted was to find someplace to unwind. After the show she wandered away from the gallery until she discovered a pub that didn’t look too full of itself. There were a few folks at the bar, including the seriously looking fellow who she chose a seat next to. As soon as she finished ordering her drink Sybil loosed the high heeled shoes from her dangling feet and plopped her chin into her hand with a long, drawn out sigh.

[tigerstripedsniper]

perdefinitio​:

               Sebastian looks a fucking mess; and that’s saying a lot coming from Mr. “I don’t see the point in brushing your hair” himself. With the amount of blood he’s only slowly starting to register (and it seems to keep going, too), he’s almost more concerned about Sebastian’s total lack of panic than the injuries themselves. Is he seeing things or has Sebastian lost all sense of self-preservation? Rather than asking himself how did this happen, his internal monologue consists mostly of how the fuck is he just standing there and please don’t let there be a fucking corpse in the kitchen. For all he knows, he might just as well have unwittingly walked in on an active crime scene – and while it surely wouldn’t be the first time, there’s something unsettling about it that’s curiously hard to get used to. 

               It’s only when Sebastian looks straight past him, causing Severin to turn and follow his gaze in disbelief, that he gets confirmation Sebastian was already injured coming in. There’s a huge smear of blood he totally didn’t see on his way in, a big blotch following the outline of Sebastian’s shoulders down the wall if you squint just hard enough. It looks like straight out of a cheap horror flick – or simply like an inconvenience, according to Sebastian. “You’re not fucking serious.” So much for being granted one good day.

               Sebastian’s old man comments shake Severin out of his stupor – familiar if nothing else. With his obscure electronica still blaring against the crook of his neck (and his heart still pumping in synchronised panic), he crosses the room – then stops short a few feet away from his brother when he realises he’s got no fucking clue what he’s even doing. How’s he supposed to help? From up close, Sebastian’s back looks even worse and the distinct smell of blood is suddenly undeniable. “Can’t you, like… fucking call someone? Don’t mobsters provide fucking health care or something?”

        Sebastian just takes his moment, doesn’t rush what he’s doing and uses it as a chance to think. Of course, pouring a drink one handed (wrong-handed, at that) really does require at least a touch of concentration. At the very least so he doesn’t make another mess and leave his brother thinking he should be shoved into a home at this relatively young age of his. 

        This is less than ideal. He'd always preferred the idea of protecting his little brother from seeing exactly how his life can be in it's valleys. It's hard to really erase the idea that he's not still some big-eyed, button-nosed kid that he has to look after. No, that's not right, gets to look after. It's a damn privilege, after all. And there's always been something unspoken about them hiding the things that look bad, but they have under control. And he has this under control. Mostly. Truly just chastises himself internally for not taking more care with his scheduling as he raises the glass to his lips, letting his other arm hang limp by his side. 

               “Who needs some stuffy old doc when I have the steadiest hands in London right here?” he asks, smirk suitably snapped into place as he sets that drink aside and comes over to pat Severin's cheek in a... slightly chastising way. “Come on, I'll grab the sewing kit and you can give me a hand, and then I'll help you make dinner, sound like a deal?”

        It would be a lie to say the edges of that smirk weren't worn or frayed, a detail he's certain Severin will notice, as he strains against the throb of his wounds. Besides, it's pretty hard to hold a smirk when half your face looks like bruised fruit. But the question really was, would Severin play along in the facade and allow Sebastian to keep up the pretence that this is fine and normal, or would he put up a fight? And his gaze lingers as he waits to see just how this will go down, but he's patient and he'll deal with what comes. Always does.

[tigerstripedsniper]

He’s drawn by the noise as he makes his way from the bathroom through to find something good enough to drink when he’s in pain, but not so good that it would be a waste on him in his current state. He’s meets him as the poor apples fall a second time and draws his head back a little at the yelling. Feels a little like when some teacher or another caught him enjoying himself in the showers at Eton. 

“Ah shit...” Then he looks right past his brother to the wall by the door where he had slumped against it on arrival, “that’s gonna be a pain in the ass to get out without lifting paint,” he sighs, looking pretty forlorn about the fact that he got blood on the wall. His gaze refocuses on his brother, standing there catching flies with his mouth hanging open. And it really does take him a moment before he remembers they had plans tonight, his face kind of crumbles as he realises he’s been caught in the act, so to speak.

“Fuck...” 

Not that he thought Severin was dim enough to not understand what they were both unfortunately tied up in at this point, but more so that he would allow his little brother to see him fresh from the fight and clearly not looking so hot, if that expression is anything to go by. Maybe a few stitches and some ice packs later would be a different story but as it stands now, he clearly looks worse than he’d even first assessed. 

He decides to play dumb, maybe a little too late, and continues toward his bar to grab a glass, truly exposing the blood pouring from his back, and that bullet-graze. “You keep listening to music so loud and you’ll damage your ears beyond repair. Worse than they are now.”

Flock Together

He can hear the blood pounding in his ears, absolutely deafening. Not sure why he has visions of holding his head underwater. Squeezing his eyes shut and blowing bubbles out his nose to stay alive. 

Moriarty is safe, that’s what matters. He’s well aware that he’s secondary, alive only to take the hits meant for the Mastermind another time. Not that he’s worthless, just that he’s worth less. He doesn’t let himself linger on weighing his own value until he’s in the clear. Definitely doesn’t let himself think about the aches and the blood until he’s back in his place, sliding his back against the wall and just melting to the floor like an ooze.

Oh, speaking of – 

Really shouldn’t get blood on the carpet, it’s a pain in the ass to get rid of again, and that’s the last thing he needs on his plate. So much for catching his breath…

Bastian picks himself up, with a groan he would rather not admit to making. Peeling his shirt off as he heads to the bathroom and trying to get a look at his back in the mirror, lucky that shot was superficial, he’d never get that removed alone should something have been lodged. Still it stings sharply at every slight stretch of the skin as he moves and it’s almost gushing blood. Which is to say nothing of the state of his face, and his hands. 

He really wasn’t expecting to get physical today. Was supposed to be easy, just intimidation. In, out, boom. But when are things ever that easy? He takes the brunt, Moriarty gets in the car and Sebastian cleans up the mess. Little shit probably knew it would go down like this the whole time, or would at least claim to. 

He sighs, staring at that sad pathetic reflection. Doesn’t recognise that man anymore. Maybe just one drink to calm the hands and another to help with the needle. Stitches would be required and he knew for a fact he’d cramp trying to reach it. 

@perdefinitio 

[tigerstripedsniper]

Flock Together

He can hear the blood pounding in his ears, absolutely deafening. Not sure why he has visions of holding his head underwater. Squeezing his eyes shut and blowing bubbles out his nose to stay alive. 

Moriarty is safe, that’s what matters. He’s well aware that he’s secondary, alive only to take the hits meant for the Mastermind another time. Not that he’s worthless, just that he’s worth less. He doesn’t let himself linger on weighing his own value until he’s in the clear. Definitely doesn’t let himself think about the aches and the blood until he’s back in his place, sliding his back against the wall and just melting to the floor like an ooze.

Oh, speaking of -- 

Really shouldn’t get blood on the carpet, it’s a pain in the ass to get rid of again, and that’s the last thing he needs on his plate. So much for catching his breath...

Bastian picks himself up, with a groan he would rather not admit to making. Peeling his shirt off as he heads to the bathroom and trying to get a look at his back in the mirror, lucky that shot was superficial, he’d never get that removed alone should something have been lodged. Still it stings sharply at every slight stretch of the skin as he moves and it’s almost gushing blood. Which is to say nothing of the state of his face, and his hands. 

He really wasn’t expecting to get physical today. Was supposed to be easy, just intimidation. In, out, boom. But when are things ever that easy? He takes the brunt, Moriarty gets in the car and Sebastian cleans up the mess. Little shit probably knew it would go down like this the whole time, or would at least claim to. 

He sighs, staring at that sad pathetic reflection. Doesn’t recognise that man anymore. Maybe just one drink to calm the hands and another to help with the needle. Stitches would be required and he knew for a fact he’d cramp trying to reach it. 

@perdefinitio 

[tigerstripedsniper]

Eyes: You see everything, and understand what must be done in order to forgo suffering, noticing the silence of others and people thought to be insignificant in the grander schemes. Nothing can escape your watchful eye. A powerful thing to be indeed, but omniscient does not mean omnipotent. Cassandra too saw a bloody future that her people refused to acknowledge, saw the red string of fate that tied her painful future with her inevitable death, but lacked the power to stop the burning fires of Troy. You are burdened with a great gift. Do not avert your gaze, do not look back, do not close your eyes. See it all, be the witness. Even if that’s all you can do. 

Tagged by: @perdefinitio

Tagging: Everyone!

[tigerstripedsniper]

Is this my fault? Born into a life of guilt, made to think you were always an issue, never allowed to think for yourself as who could be so selfish as to have their own thoughts. you hope that it will be quick, you hope that you didn't bring this upon the world by daring to be your own person. you had just begun to open your wings when the world crashed down on you, life came to take you. did you deserve to live in pain? or did you simply allow yourself to be convinced it was the only option? if you chose to keep going, could you change the future that you once believed was set in stone, a road of pain changed into a road of opportunities.

Tagged by: @perdefinitio

Tagging: Anyone who wants to do it?

[tigerstripedsniper]

frustration: In longing, you feel frustration. You feel that you've almost reached your desire one too many times and you don't understand why you keep getting denied. You feel the universe is taunting you, playing just beyond your reach and leaving you on the brink of breaking every time it dances away. When you let yourself feel your yearning, you bury your face in your hands and turn to look at the sky, not expecting an answer, but pleading for relief. There's a burn in your heart that you just can't explain in words but it's deep, you can feel it in your throat and just under your chest. You take a deep breath and exhale heavily. It settles you enough to continue on as you were. You see others living your desire and you don't feel jealous per se, but the burn raises in intensity and you just wish... something. You want change from your current situation, at this point, you don't really care what it is, just... something. Have courage my dear, you can brave the fires of this world if you so wish. 

Tagged by: @perdefinitio

Tagging: (Anyone still active who... wants to do this???)

[tigerstripedsniper]

Out of Bullets: Is anyone... here?

Blows dust off blog

[tigerstripedsniper]

Folder by Michael Burch (Burchtree Blades)

[tigerstripedsniper]

“Well, that might be the less messy solution, I suppose,” his head rolls to one side as if he’s weighing it up. “I’ll pass on the garbageman thing, too. It’s pretty easy to get laid here, but I don’t want to lessen my chances all the same.”

        ‘ i’d prefer you just quit, if it’s all the same to you. ‘ while he says this with the same light tone and same half-smile, he does take these things very seriously. he’s seen enough vets struggling to readjust; finding the right job to go along with that is just one exhausting detail of many. ‘ just the right timing, too, heard trash removal’s hiring. ‘

[tigerstripedsniper]

Continued from this with @xmxphisto

Sebastian crosses his arms and shrugs, trying to look like it’s no big deal.

          “It’s fine, I run a little hot anyway.” 

[tigerstripedsniper]

Continued from this with @itsusxallysubtext​

Honestly he never brought people back to his. But when you’re pissed out of your nut and determined, anything sounds like a good idea. Even taking someone back to a flat you’ve been squatting in. The whole point in him doing things like this was to get a soft bed, or a shower, or maybe some warm food, in a place he can walk away from. Possibly somewhere that wouldn’t end up with him getting arrested?

But he hears ‘military’, and he feels some connection that’s not completely worthless or dismissable. You see that look in someone’s eyes and you know they know something no one else in the room understands (unless you’re at an army dinner or something, obviously). Point is, when he stirs, and is more familiar with his surroundings than he usually is, it takes him a moment to work out why he was so quick to drag this guy back. And then he hates himself. 

He forces a smile, but it comes slowly to someone so freshly awake. “So...” he repeats, because what can you say? He’d really hoped the guy would have jumped ship by now. What was his name, anyway? Jake? James? Jack?

[tigerstripedsniper]

He hears him before he sees him, and immediately scolds himself internally. Sloppy, fatigue should be no excuse. That’s how you wind up dead. He stops after the man is more clearly in view and looks him over. The tan is the giveaway for Sebastian; but a man like this, in the middle of a plantation, he can only figure that he owns the land. You don’t go that colour overnight, and it’s just enough to suggest that he doesn’t work out here -- it’s no comparison to the dark burns across Sebastian’s neck and face, even if his hair is growing out over it now, in messy waves. 

Sebastian knows he’s no picture. He knows exactly why the guy has a little hesitation in his voice, he wouldn’t approach himself with a bargepole right now. 

          “Yeah, no shit,” he calls back, no disguising the accent behind that voice, gruff from disuse. “You have a phone I could use?”

Charmer

Only a few feet away from where the bearded hunter was passing by, a young blond man stood with one hand hooded above his face, shielding it from the unforgiving Indian sun. Not that he needed to. Victor had been living in this country for quite a few years and had a golden tan to show for it. No one who didn’t already know him could guess it, however, for he could still be mistaken for a tourist, what with his khaki trousers and crisp shirt, which he was currently sweating through, and his ridiculous hiking boots. It was difficult to change one’s lifestyle in order to blend in, when you came from a certain class of society.

He first saw the man and next the large bloodied sack he was dragging across his plantation, and instantly he felt alarms going off in his brain. The sack was big enough to fit a human body inside, and once or twice Victor had heard rumours concerning murder about the forests that led to these grounds. He had told himself that they were just that; rumours. But as this strange, unkempt and wild looking man continued on his walk, he couldn’t help but worry. He took two hesitant steps towards the man before calling out to him.

  ❝——Excuse me, sir! You seem to have lost your way.❞

[tigerstripedsniper]

Sebastian inhales through his nose for a long moment as he tries to decide what to say before he gives in, shaking his head and shrugging, “it’s tedious as all hell.” A little sigh, as if that was a relief to admit aloud, “sorry, mate. I appreciate it, but I might have to jump off something very high, very soon.”

          edward snorts, entirely unsurprised. ‘ don’t hold back on your enthusiasm on my account. ‘ he’s surrounded by enough diplomacy (bullshit) every day, he can take the odd honest response here and there in his spare time. ‘ bored to death already? ‘

[tigerstripedsniper]

Sebastian’s lips stayed firmly pressed together as he nodded a little. It wasn’t like Jim involved him in every little part of his life and business, but he could never help the little twang of jealousy that came from not being included in an operation, especially when he had nothing better to do. Exactly what led him to take a step closer, lowering his head and his voice, favouring a twinge of a smirk.

          “Shame you’re busy, then, I was hoping to... steal a bit of your time.”

     There was a milisecond where this new man appeared to be putting effort into looking relaxed. Then it vanished, and Richard blinked a bit - unsure if he’d actually seen it or imagined it - before turning focus to the contents of his pockets. So he’s very good then… 

     “Had no time. Then again, I think I’ll be handling this on my own…” Which was to say in that idly passive way his brother had of speaking, ‘there was no reason to’.

[tigerstripedsniper]

♞♞♞

I was visiting the bae for a few days, but I’m back now, and just going to work on my drafts for a bit before I get back into work. Let me know if I owe you anything!

[tigerstripedsniper]

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“We can do anything. It’s not because our hearts are large, they’re not, it’s what we struggle with.”