you’re saying that as if that’d be a bad thing. it’s silly, really — how you’ll show yourself off in such a way and still crumble at a single word. don’t short circuit on me.
@YourAceAlter / no idea, but as far as i can see, you’re dealing with what i dealt with on my original account. it fixed itself after being inactive for like a week on it.
“ always so dramatic. one of these days, that flair for the theatrics is gonna get you into some real trouble. “
she doesn’t wait for a reply, doesn’t bother with a handkerchief or some flimsy substitute. instead, she closes the distance +
what can she say? it’s part of the job. one she adores greatly. now, does she happen to have a napkin? a handkerchief? or perhaps something of lesser value? she can already feel another rush of blood coming.
and more complicated in her eyes.
“ hold still. you’re makin’ a mess. “
with her free hand, she conjures up a clean, sterile dressing from her pocket. anita presses it gently to loba’s nostril, her thumb brushing just below the flare of +
/ meant to post about this earlier but my layout comms ARE open! i'm currently out of work and could use support of any kind, even if you just repost this tweet below ^_^
her gaze lingers for only a moment longer before drifting elsewhere, refusing to let the stare become a contest. there’s an obvious tension in her shoulders now, a coiled readiness that hadn’t been present before. +
little more. "or are you upset." dull glow to optics, but they're still trained on anita.
at the very least, ash could give her full, undivided attention. impatiently awaiting reaponse, pinkie nail is the first to claw and tear into textured fabric.
but ash occupies a different corner of memory. a name that once circulated through IMC channels in short briefings & quiet conversations. precise, efficient; dangerous — - a serpentine, unafraid to bare her fangs. ash had always fascinated her.