@ircnmonger

     irene didn’t think she’d see her son again. scratch that-- she didn’t think she’d see her son again like this. but irene won’t complain on the way that she ended up reuniting with him. it’s all she’s wanted. after years of not knowing what happened to her son, here he is-- alive.

     and behind bars. but she couldn’t stop that.

     “--hey. hi.” irene sits down, knowing this is-- strange. surreal, for her, but she doesn’t even know if he can remember her. she pulls out a photo she had developed years ago, faded and bent. it was one of the only pictures she had of her and him, sitting behind a well-lit cake.

     “my name’s irene. i-- think you’re my son.”

@glacierfront

     officer k wasn’t used to being called in on cases where he was meant to take care of someone. a human. the fact that he was given a deposit for this case was what made it stranger. he anticipated bonuses from certain bounties, but nothing prior to even starting his work. joshi briefed him, though, and gave him a run-down of the situation. the remaining lineage of a wealthy family had been killed. all of them were dead except for the daughter. she was the one with the idea of having a blade runner take care of her, and she wanted to be kept safe until they found the killer. the money was there to make sure he did his job right.

     as if he wouldn’t.

     this abnormality took him away from buzzing LA streets and into a silent, lavish residence that looked like an entirely different universe from the grime-thickened pavement outside. he had never set foot in such a wealthy home-- wallace corporation didn’t count. most humans didn’t want him inside their pretty places. it was the small swarm of LAPD buzzing in and out of the halls that told k that, no matter the difference between this residence and the outside world, it was all the same place. no amount of wealth could keep out the chaos of living earth-bound.

     her family should have chosen to live in an off-world colony.

     k was directed down the hall and into a small living room to meet the girl in question-- he had been told by joshi her name was evelyn. he knew that was not true, but didn’t need to know her real name. he pulled out his badge, opening it up to her.

     “officer kd6-3.7, ma’am. i will be escorting you to a more secure location.”

tenccs:

  that would be really weird for him, but his eyes shift to hershey anyway like his dog is going to answer him clearly and in a way that he can understand. hershey simply blinks at him, then glances up at vaughn.

  “today’s,” hershey says as confidently as a dog can say anything. “tell him to give me more.”

     “he likes today’s. and he wants more.” vaughn crosses his arms and settles wayyy back into the couch. man would he be good with a long sleep right now. but he’s focused-- and just a little confused, and he wants to bring up the big question he’s been having--

     “--you’re seriously okay with everything i’ve said? that i can talk to animals and stuff?”

     like for a starter from the animal whisperer

tenccs:

  “well that sure sounds like something he’d say.” sam pointedly looks at hershey who curls himself up next to vaughn quite comfortably and looking smug about. “dick.”

  sam drops onto the plush chair adjacent to the couch, still feeling wine-buzzed enough to entertain some sort of conversation with his dog. the others come around to watch the affair; buster jumps on his lap for better viewing.

  “i dunno. ask him if he likes the treats i gave him today or the ones i gave him yesterday better. might as well as figure out his preferences.”

     vaugh snorts and shakes his head. he’s never really done this for anyone, but he’s trying real hard to be like super chill about all of it. like. he just doesn’t want talk about the whole like, mutant thing.

     “you can like, ask him yourself. you know, look him in the eye, talk to him. i mean-- okay, never mind. i know that’s gonna be weird for you.” he shifts and looks over down at hersh.

     “which ones did you like better, huh? yesterday or today’s treats?”

tenccs:

  sam grows seriously skeptical of this when vaughn holds up hershey it like he’s some sort of idol. it’s a ridiculous sight.

  hershey, on the other hand, huffs, peering at vaughn with intelligent eyes. he’s never had a human talk to him like this before. hm. “he treats me good. he’s kind of a dick, though. doesn’t give me enough treats.”

     “he says you’re kind of a dick and you don’t give him enough treats. but like. you treat him good, so that’s cool.” vaughn kinda starts lowering hersh when he feels drunken-vertigo setting in, and heads over to the couch. he sits down, setting hersh beside him.

     “so like. you wanna ask him anything, sam? ‘cause like. now’s the chance.”

tenccs:

  that happens so fast that sam has to chug his glass of wine just to keep up. it earns him a strange look from the couple at the table next to them which doesn’t surprise him all that much. ( it shouldn’t surprise them either. he knows he looks like the type to chug a glass of wine. )

  “someone’s eager to hear my dog trash me.” sam drops some cash on the table, then follows vaughn out to the uber. it’s a fifteen minute drive, and when sam unlocks the front door three dogs greet them, but none of them are hershey.

  “hershey! where are you, you little shit? someone here wants to talk to you.” after a moment hershey lazily struts down the stairs, eyeing the two of them suspiciously. “well,” he says, turning to vaughn. “what’s he got to say?”

     “good question hold on.” he avoids listening in on any of the other three totally unimportant dogs just to head over to hershey to pick him up. he holds him with his hands in hersh’s armpits, holding him up like simba. 

     “alright bud what’s up huh how’ve you been? how’s sam been treatin’ you?”

tenccs:

  “at home?” where else would hershey be. the dog’s smart, but not that fucking smart. he thinks. sam’s still nursing his glass of cheap red wine, but he takes a longer sip of it now. the conversation seems to call for more alcohol and a bigger buzz.

  “why? you want to listen to my dog shit talk me? because i’m pretty fucking sure that’s all he ever does in his own mind.”

     vaughn takes out his phone, opens up uber, and drops in sam’s address. doesn’t take him long before he finishes up the tiny bit remaining of his drink and gets off his stool.

     “yeah, let’s go see what he has to say. c’mon, i got us an uber.”

tenccs:

  sam almost barks out laughter. does he know about mutants? of course he knows about mutants; he is one. maybe he should get around to telling vaughn that one of these days, but it’sstill something he struggles with.

  but any of those thoughts quickly vanish in light of this admission. sam opens his mouth, brows furrowed, then closes it again. he’s looking at vaughn like he’s crazy, but it’s not that sam thinks he’s off his rocker. it’s just… surprise. if he pegged vaughn for having any sort of power it wouldn’t be talking to goddamn animals.

  “like, dogs and shit? prove it, dude.”

     he finishes up his drink while sam’s thinking, then calls for another one just as fast. he’s starting up on the next one, but pauses before he can finish knocking the glass back. yeah, he should have figured sam would ask that, but he was expecting a harsher reaction. doesn’t know why, though-- sam’s always seemed like a cool guy.

     “like, anything. dogs and cats. pigeons. but they gotta be kinda smart, you know-- not like. flies or anything like that.” he huffs. “where’s hersh?”

tenccs:

  sam’s seen and done a lot of fucked up things. just about everyone in his life regularly does things he’d consider fucked up, so he doubts he’s going to be surprised by whatever he’s about to be told.

  it helps that he’s on the better end of tipsy right now, too.

  “uh, alright, dude. hit me with it.”

     “so-- you know about mutants, right? yeah, like, everyone does, i fucking know-- i’m not saying i’m one or anything like that, like, keep that in mind-- i mean. maybe. what else could it be, right?” he shuts himself up with another drink of his whiskey.

     “okay, the point. don’t think i’m crazy or anything like that, okay? i mean, we work together, and i don’t want any of the rest of the crew to know. it’s just, like--”

     “--i can talk to fucking animals, man.”

@tenccs

     “man okay i need to tell you something really fucked up. and what i’m saying is for-sure not because i’m fucked up. i’m not that drunk. it’s just that you’re my friend and we’re pretty cool and, i don’t know, i think you’ll get me.”

     Sophia had seen a lot of things in her life. She had seen something as parasitic as this before--the thing, or lack thereof, that made her half-brother nearly kill her. She had escaped the hands of a murderer, gazed upon atrocities with Miles in Afghanistan, picked her way around government men.

     None of that prepared her for this.

     “Don’t apologize.” It was easy enough to say, but Sophia didn’t know what to do. The recordings had already been sat through. It was hard-- there were times when she wanted to stop, but curiosity and necessity kept her going. She should have been there. He told her he was going. There was always the chance he would come back from something not-the-same or dead, but this was different. He should be dead.

     “What can I do?” Her hands faintly moved to rest on his shoulders. She was not sure if it helped, but she couldn’t bring herself to keep away from him. The fear that he would crumble or vanish before her scared her more than the thing that was nestled inside him.

@valicntes  | starter call | not accepting

     He’s not crying. He’s not even close to it — but his head hurts and his vision blurs and he cannot make out a single thing, sound of the swarm dozing out any sound. Hands press up against his ears, as if that would shut it out, but that only makes it worse, and he lets them sink again. It tears on the inside of his skin. It nestles in his lungs, makes him choke. It’s everywhere, biting, scratching, screaming.

     There’s the faint knowledge that Sophia is still here, has been the night (the way a sister would, rather than anything else), but he couldn’t pretend to be okay if he tried. Or explain. Even the croaked out ‘sorry’ is awful to get out.

     She shouldn’t see this. Or be around this.

oncedeadliesmith:

    “You are planning to stay?” he asked softly, and was going to protest, say it was her home and he should not keep her from it, but if any place was truly her home, it was Vanaheim, and she wouldn’t be comfortable there now. If she wanted to be with him, he would be glad, but he would never assume without asking. “If you are… would I be too bold as to ask you to stay with me?”

    The trickster was never so wary of anyone’s opinion of him as his wife’s. He knew she loved him as he loved her, but she was his rock, and without her all would be lost to him.

    “You may be emboldened to know that I’ve learned to cook in the years we’ve been apart.”

     “Did you think I came all this way only for a visit?” She teased, although she knew that it was all a little rash to come here without giving much more consideration than that. It was one of the few times that Sigyn decided to do something so impulsive, but she did it with good intentions.

     “I would only want to stay with you. You must know that you’re going to have to help accustom me to this city, though. I stuck out the entire way here.” Her eyes lighted before she laughed at his admittance. “Would you consider cooking something for us tonight, then? --And I want to hear about your life here, too, Loki.”

oncedeadliesmith:

    “You never disturb me, Sigyn,” Loki said softly, fingers brushing along her jawline as he looked on her fondly, “You always grant me peace. My home is yours, sváss.” He lead her into his small apartment, and a curious ferret scampered over to inspect the new guest.

    “This is Juniper, a rowdy little house guest, whom I hope you will not mind,” he said softly, and gave her a small tour. The kitchen was attached to the living room, and there was a guestroom and a Master bedroom, all bedecked in greens and golds and earthy browns. His bedding was from his suite in Asgard, but he had taken nothing else from his former gilded life.

    “It’s terribly in modest taste, even for me, but one cannot go about bringing too much attention…”

     “I’d never mind any little house guest of yours,” she mused, and couldn’t help but look to the ferret who followed them in their tour. Sigyn was happy to see that her husband was living in a well-enough residence. It was modest, yes, but that did not discourage her. She was just happy that he did not exile himself into a miserable life here in Midgard.

     “You seem happy here, and that’s all that matters to me. After you left Asgard, I was not sure in what way I would find you again. I did not want to continue to live in a place without you.” She didn’t begin to mention that she couldn’t live in a place where the things said about him would continue to drip and sink into her. Sigyn knew her husband was not innocent, but she would stand by him, always. Even if Asgard, as she knew, did not hold a good eye for him, either.

     “--Though I will say Midgard is going to take some getting used to.”

oncedeadliesmith:

    The trickster got up at the knock to the door. His wards weren’t repelling the stranger, so they mustn’t be a threat. He set aside his book of Tennyson poetry and got up to check the door. As soon as he opened it to see Sigyn standing there, his expression immediately softened. His words left him, even in greeting, and he scooped his wife into his arms and held her close, nuzzling his face into her hair and breathing in the scent of her.

    She felt like home.

    When his words finally returned to him, he let his eyes linger on hers as he asked, “How did you get here, kona minn?”

     It’s his quick reaction to her presence that has tears teasing eyelashes. She didn’t come all this way for nothing, then. Her arms wrapped around him, completing their embrace.

     “I know your tricks, my dear-- I knew how to take the journey here, and I was willing to take it to see you again. I couldn’t bear to live any longer without you. I was worried I would never see you again.” Her hands reach up to touch his hair, combing through it’s length. Her gaze trailed away from him, and glanced into his home. “Have I disturbed you? May I come in?”

Favourite Screen Costumes || Rose’s chiffon dress (Titanic 1997)

Costumes by: Deborah Lynn Scott

The Reader (2008) dir. Stephen Daldry