My Muse Forgot To Lock The Door And Yours Walks In On Mine In The Shower. How Does Yours React?
I WILL GET NONEEEEE
“I love the rain. I love how it softens the outlines of things. The world becomes softly blurred, and I feel like I melt right into it.”
Hanamoto Hagumi, Honey and Clover (via grimoireandfaeries)
Tagged: #remnant thoughts
Aaren: Wake up
As soon as eyes had lurched open he came to find the little artist, of all people, trying to hold down his chassis. He wondered if she had clearance to his office—had the Secretary granted her keycard access? Or had he left the door unlocked, of all things?
Considering the mood he’d been in when he’d dragged inside finally, he supposed it was safe to say he might not have locked it. He didn’t bother to ask. His forehead was damp—throat dry. It had been another nightmare, of all things.
Crystal blue eyes moved her frame wearily, “I—I didn’t hurt you did I?”
He knew how violent he could get in such a deplorable state.
'Wake Up!' BLU Spy
As soon as the hard, oceanic blues shot open he realized he’d been struggling. It took him a moment to realize he’d fallen asleep on one of the couches off and out of the way in the employee lounge. He’d wanted just a small nap before raking himself up something to eat.
Even after transferring into his civilian body, his biological functions still had demanded sleep from him. He’d been tired punching off the clock today. His limbs ached where the spook had him pinned—sharp phantom pains ripping through artificial limbs.
"L-let go of me…" he hissed. He hadn’t intended to come off hostile but the fact remained he was scared—not only of whatever the man had heard (regardless of it being in a language most could not understand) but of being in such a vulnerable state in front of another.
He knew he should have gone back to his room. At least no one could fall to harm with him locked away inside.
'Wake Up' -Frank Jaeger (AKA Gray Fox if you didnt know)-
How absolutely humiliating. Most days he had his the skeletons that rattled in his own closet under wrap, but even he wasn’t immune to them, it seemed. He hadn’t slept well the night before and somehow he’d made sure it wasn’t all that apparent in when he was neck deep in ‘work’.
His visor offered good cover for any wandering eyes that might seek out what mood or state of mind he might possibly be in. It was just the two of them on the cargo plane—that much he remembered. Had he started to nod off where he’d taken up a seat?
He was still in a mild fog. The missions today had been particularly gruesome. Several of their clients had been gunned down in an ambush. Jaeger had been sent in to assist should anything get too ugly but apparently not even that had been enough. They’d had to fall back—the men under his command having taken quite a beating.
He felt pressure distributed through artificial limbs—was he on the floor now? Yes, he was and with Jaeger pinning him no less. His visor was at half-mast where it typically stayed,
"What are you…" he paused—noting his own disorientation.
After placing some weight back in his voice he tried again, “What are you doing.”
Phobias and Diseases
All a Part of the Job
Madden into Misanthropy
In Your Nature to Destroy Yourselves
Being Personal Isn’t Professional
Lack of Empathy
Original Chart: Here