#grace kingston

[incorrects2023]

DW (2)

River making breakfast for the doctor

Twelve: What did you break?

River: Can't a wife just make her husband a little meal

Twelve: You broke another wine glass didn't you?

River: Welcome to cynical island, population you

#doctor who #dw #incorrect doctor who quotes #dw incorrect quotes #Twelfth Doctor #river song #peter capaldi #Alex Kingston #source: will and grace

[loyhargil]

#new who #amy pond #eleventh doctor #rory williams #river song #karen gillan #matt smith #arthur darvill #doctor who #alex kingston #dwedit #fan edit #literature edit #book quote #kate atkinson #a god in ruins #anthony doerr #about grace

[ratwhowrites]

Figured I’d talk about Romero’s family a bit. I’m currently writing something regarding them as well.

All of Romero’s living relatives are from his mother’s side (well except for his father but I’ll explain that later)

Possible tw for mentions of death, and drinking

The matriarch of the family is his grandmother, Lyra. She’s the kind but sassy grandma who encourages the wacky hijinks. This lady is old. Very old. She and Scarlett, Romero’s mentor and godmother, are very good friends. I just like the thought of them being old ladies together. Romero respects her greatly. She’s very kind and will welcome almost anyone into the family. Think of her like Mama Odie from the Princess and the Frog I suppose. That’s a good description of her personality. She is also very good at making desserts.

Then there’s his aunt Meridian Dixon. A friendly woman with her signature southern accent. Meridian is his mother, Cassiopeia’s sister. She has dark blonde, almost brown hair, the same blue eyes as Romero, and wears a lot of outfits covered in flour or dirt. Meridian isn’t her birth name but she’ll never tell you. Dallas calls her Southern Mary Poppins and you'll eventually find out why. She clearly got her kindness from Lyra. She’s the sweetest. A very motherly figure to most people. A lot of people who aren’t even related to her call her Aunt Mer. She also makes the best food. You name it, she’ll make it. She can be tough though. She’s scared people before when she gets angry, it doesn’t happen often, but when it does, it’s better to just apologize and give her some space. She can be very stubborn at times, one might even say bull-headed. She is known for taking care of anyone in need, which is how she ended up taking care of the twins. However, there is only one person she hates: Corvus, Romero’s father. Though Cassiopeia is also horrible, she could never hate her sister. She blames Corvus for making her awful and for hurting Romero. She dealt with him though. She cares for Romero and loves him like her own son. She is very strong, and would do anything for her kids. Speaking of…

Her eldest son is Spencer who is currently 18. He takes after his late father. With the same light brown hair, the blue eyes that run in the family, and his cowboy attire. He’s a good guy, very dedicated to his family. He took up the roll of being the second parent after his father passed. He is used to protecting his siblings and cousins. He is very much a leader, though he can come off as a bit bossy. He doesn’t like his emotions to affect his decisions and tends to bottle things up, focusing on his family more. He, Dallas and Romero liked to wrestle a lot when they were younger. As all of them are pretty strong, it’s an even match. He is good with a gun but even better with a shovel. I like to joke about him fighting people with shovels. He does a lot of the chores around the ranch. Very yeehaw. He is an easily suspicious person, always alert. He is kind though, and will try to cheer up his friends or siblings. He also protects them from the monsters residing in the forest close to their property. He is also very stubborn.

Next is his 14 year old sister Harper. Similar hair as her mother, freckles over her face and arms like her father, and a bright smile. She dresses a little nicer but still comes home with a scraped knee or grass stains on her dress. She enjoys spending time with the animals. Her chores consist mostly of caring for them as they seem to favor her. She often goes exploring, climbing trees or collecting bugs. She’s the type who comes home with a spider and asks to keep it as a pet. She is deathly scared of monsters though. She tends to be a trouble maker, causing mischief or disturbing neighbors. She also likes to prank people with her pet bugs. She’s a sweetheart though. Very curious about things and looks up to Romero and Spencer. She brags about how cool her brother and cousin are.

Artemis is Meridian’s adopted daughter. She stands out among her family because of her black hair with a strand of white, her skin paler, and also the various animal traits she had. She is the offspring of a shapeshifting demon and a deer hybrid. She inherited her father's ability to change her form. Her behavior can sometimes be a little more animalistic, if that makes sense. She has a monstrous appetite and sharper teeth. She sometimes switches out the features, but she usually favors her antenna and the dragonfly wings. She has blue eyes with cat like pupils that she cannot get rid of. She does try to make her features look more like her new family. She’s usually a nervous gal, but as time passes, she develops a sarcastic personality and becomes very work oriented, owning a small potions shop.

Then there’s the twins. Meridian found them when they first arrived in Lazuli. She took them in and raised them basically. They refer to her as . Spencer and Harper became family to them as well, the bunch of kids enjoy messing around. I know I’ve talked about them a bit but I’ll give a better description here.

Dallas is older by a few seconds. He and Flynn are identical twins. He and his sister share the same dark brown hair and red eyes. Dallas usually forgets to do anything with his hair, leaving it messy and often falling into his face as he moves around a lot. Both twins resemble their mother with the same rich, tan skin and eyes that always seem tired. He has all sorts of scars around his body, varying from monster attacks to stab wounds. He's trans masc and has a lot of support from his family and friends. He tends to be a bit fidgety, and often hums when he works on something. Dallas has a bit of a temper, especially when it comes to rude people, as he's dealt with plenty of bullies. Before he came to Lazuli, he got in fights a lot with older kids who made fun of him or his sister. He is known for having enhanced strength and a resistance to heat. ) He has a need to be helpful or wanted. That's why he basically becomes a hero. He wants to help people and have them love him. He puts other above himself every time to be the parent he wished he had. He's lost so many people he cared about, so he willingly puts himself in constant danger to protect who he has left and not lose anyone else. He puts all blame on himself when things happen because he considers this being responsible. Doing everything in his power to make people happy or safe. He craves validation because he hardly got it before he arrived in Lazuli. Traumatized little guy. I'll get into his family more in another post. He's a friendly guy and very popular. He loves music and actually wanted to be in a band as a kid. Dallas loves to sing. That's it. He works as a monster hunter with Spencer and a few other friends. Romero also worked with them at one point. He also loves to cook, and often helps Meridian in the kitchen. He's always on the verge of a breakdown and can become incredibly stressed.

Flynn Curtis is very different from her brother. While her physical appearance is almost the same, her personality is nothing like his. She’s more on the quiet side, and a very fast learner. She is caring but can be perceived as the mean twin for her brutal honesty and sarcasm. She is very passionate though, with a love for inventing, sweets and history. She is also a bit of a pyromaniac, explosives are her preferred method of attack. While she is usually alert, she is easy to manipulate. Though she will deny it, she gets very jealous of her brother for all the attention he receives. As a kid, she was often talked over an ignored. So much so that for a time, she stopped talking altogether. But with help from Meridian and her new found family, she has come out of her shell. She is a very ambitious person who does whatever she wants.

Moving on, Scarlett Kingston is Romero’s godmother and mentor as previously mentioned. She is fairly old, her death occurring in the 40s, but remains young looking to lure people in. She was at one point human, but she was greedy, which led to her being killed. She is now the embodiment of greed and practically runs the small district of Fortune with her casino and bar. Again, doesn’t quite fit the fantasy vibe, but it’s all a bit mismatched at the moment. She helps Romero with his magic, teaching him different spells from his book and whatnot. She helped raise him and views him as her son. While Fortune remains neutral in the ongoing battle between Atlas (Romero’s district) and Nightshade, Scarlett tends to assist Romero with information or supplies, in return he owes her favors. Usually he repays his debt by working shifts at the bar. Fun fact, that’s where he worked growing up.

And last but certainly not least, we have Grace Greyson, though she prefers to just go by Grey. She is a spirit who was once a human, brought to Opal by Scarlett and offered a job as a bartender. She has black hair and grey eyes. A very cool lesbian. She speaks fluent Russian. When she was a young adult, her family caused her to run away from home, leading to her death. (If you read Midnight Train, you know what I mean) Grey is Romero’s adopted mother. She raised him as a kid and he views her more as his mother than his actual mother. She had found him, wandering the street scared out of his mind. Somehow, he mistook her for his mother and clung to her. After some encouragement from Scarlett, Grey reluctantly takes him home and decides to care for him. She grew attached over time and began to refer to him as her son. She took him to work with her often, he remained in the back of the bar or seated at a table with a book while she worked. He became well acquainted with the regulars, and they became family friends. Grey did a lot of research on how to care for crows to make sure she was doing everything right. She is a little more pessimistic but ultimately a caring person. She teaches Dallas and Romero to fight as she is skilled with swords. She has a bit of a smoking habit and tends to drink though she cannot get fully drunk.

So now that I've established this whole wacky family, I want to paint a picture for you. Imagine Romero is taking you to meet his family. You're expecting rude, snobby people, another castle, or something of the sort. Instead, he takes you to a small town in Nightshade. It looks like something out of an old western movie. The ranch has elements of constellations in the decor, the house crest is a bull whose horns are adorned with stars. The property is fairly large and you can see where the forest suddenly cuts off the old western town, leading into untold horrors. You can hear noise from inside the house, it sounds like a party. There's people laughing, music, and faint crashes every now and again. The door opens and reveals a smiling woman with a very noticeable southern drawl as she welcomes you in, already asking a million questions about you, where you met Romero and what you like to eat. Once inside, you can see a large group of people, teenagers messing around and flinging food at each other, the younger kids feeding a lizard, the adults laughing and talking about something with drinks in their hands and a very old woman who would join in every once in a while. It felt very much like a family reunion. You felt at ease with these people and within minutes, you had become a member of the family and it seemed you have known them all your life. Grey and Scarlett stand out among the blue eyes and southern accents but treat Romero just the same. Grey scolds him in a lighthearted tone that he doesn't visit enough. The conversation soon switched to Russian to prevent others from understanding them. Dallas was taking song requests on his guitar, Peyton had brought out dessert and Harper was introducing you to her newest pet. The family had brought out the pictures of younger Romero, in attempts to embarrass him. Even still, it was the happiest and most relaxed he has been in a while. These people really seemed to bring out the best in him. There was an odd tension between him and Dallas though. By the time you had decided to leave, you were carrying leftovers that Peyton insisted you take, Lyra now called you her grandchild and the twins had somehow convinced you to go monster hunting with them. It was nice though. It was nice to see Romero relaxed for once.

Woo that was longer than I planned but I do like giving more information on my characters. I have left out details or other information because I tend to discuss or introduce it once I start posting my writing of this story. I really hope you all enjoyed this because this story has been in the making for a good while now.

Also not sure if this counts for Romero and Flynn propaganda?

@original-character-championship @homemadegirlbossbattle

Vote for these two evildoers!

#Romero astrophel #flynn curtis #dallas curtis #artemis dixon #spencer dixon #Meridian Dixon #harper dixon #grace greyson #scarlett kingston #lore? #propaganda #Rat man's ocs #The Isles of Lazuli

[lovely-v]

I’m watching this show called “Lost in Austen” that @bookstoreblossom told me about and it’s literally crazy. It’s four episodes long. It’s bad self insert Jane Austen fanfiction. It’s secondhand embarrassment on steroids. It’s time travel. It’s wish fulfillment for people who yell at book characters. The intro is very graphic-design-is-my-passion. Hugh fucking Bonneville is in it.

#veesaysthings #Alex Kingston (River Song ) is also in it? #Lost in Austen #I’m two episodes in and I can’t see where the fuck this is going I’m obsessed thank u grace

[paganminiskirt]

WIP HALF AN HOUR INTO MONDAY

Tagged by lovelies @adelaidedrubman and @shallow-gravy, tagging @strafethesesinners @florbelles @henbased (post the goth girl files we know you have them)

Have some ancient, unfinished Nora/Grace!

#lmk if I posted this already my memory is a black hole #grace armstrong #deputy nora kingston #jerome jeffries

[lurking-latinist]

doctor who is a big franchise without one single coherent narrative, I normally cope with having incompatible ships just by... not thinking about them at the same time lol. (by which I mean I like doctorriver and I like doctorromana and I like doctor-doesn’t-do-romance, and I like them all as premises for different stories, and when I’m reading/watching one type of story I understand that it’s separate from the others.)

this becomes difficult when you manage to associate the same poem with more than one of your incompatible ships.

#it's alex kingston's fault she has no right to read 'to his coy mistress' so beautifully #when it's also such an excellent source for doctorromana #but! this poem has the saving grace that it is about two different pairs of lovers #the imaginary immortal lovers who *can* take an age at least to every part and the last age should show your heart etc #and the mortal lovers who cannot afford that time #they're both beautiful and on a *meta* level the poem actually does perfectly encapsulate why I ship both ships #but still. i don't want to be thinking about my sevenromana fic when I'm listening to the ending of 'World Enough and Time' #(the sixriver audio not the tv episode of the same name) #always going insane about this poem!! #andrew marvell cinematic universe

[superbelievesintadcooper]

Ahh I finished Soulstar and it was fantastic! Beautiful end to the series, I'm so sad to be done. I love all of these characters so deeply and I know that they'll stay with me forever, they're always on my mind. Kingston Cycle has quickly become my favorite book series of all time and I'll definitely be rereading in the future!

#and i LOVED robin and zelinds romance #how they know each other so deeply yet have to re figure out their relationship after being apart for 20 YEARS #suchhh an interesting dynamic that i havent seen before #also love to see miles tristan grace and avia of course #now on to even though i knew the end!! #soulstar #the kingston cycle #cl polk

[extremesofmediocrity]

I just read The Kingston Cycle by CL Polk and even though it's a quintessentially Tumblr ™️ series I can't find other people talking about here.

My main question re: the series is, what the fuck was up with that?

We're just supposed to be cool with the death penalty all of a sudden?

#the Kingston cycle #cl polk #soulstar #also i did kind of feel like the author was feeling pressure to make all the characters queer #the only reason grace the straightest character I've ever seen ended up with a woman

[exculpateinteractivefiction]

"All suffering originates from craving, from attachment, from desire." - Edgar Allan Poe

Exculpate: The Fall from Grace is an upcoming 18+ action packed and fantastical interactive fiction novel. Loosely inspired by media like “My Hero Academia”, “Bungou Stray Dogs”, “Jujutsu Kaisen”, “The X-Men” and “Titans”.

Tags: [Urban Fantasy/Sci-Fi, Romance, Drama, LGBTQIA+, Textbased]

The Astra. In the years after the war it was a name that had grown familiar. A select group of individuals who had gained special abilities after the…incident. They are powerful. They are talented. They are gifted.

And you’re one of them.

Or at least you were around a decade ago. Before you made the mistake.  The type of colossal fuck up that blows up your apparently  flimsy life in a matter of minutes. The kind that has you running away and starting completely over. That kind.

Now instead of using your worthless ability to save people, you are stuck using it for much more…aggressive work. More effective work. Or at the very least work that pays better. The only cost seems to be your sorry excuse for morals. Trading your soul and sense of justice for a paycheck. What could go wrong?

It was manageable. Meaningful even. Something that gave purpose to the now shattered pieces of your life.

Everything was great.

...until you got a hit for the strongest hero in existence. Wonderful.

Play a former hero turned assassin turned…“hero” but not really .

Customize your character’s name, appearance, personality, and gender identity.

Develop a better understanding of your dreadful ability.

Explore and navigate complex relationships with six unique romantic options.

Kill your former best friend and betray old allies and new ones alike!

Come face to face with your past (both the choices you’ve made and the people in it).

Repent for your mistakes…or continue making them.

The Hero (Your Target): Maverick “Mav” Kingston (He/Him)

Maverick Kingston, your current target and the strongest member of Astra. The strongest, period. He is unstoppable - unreachable - unattainable. You would know as his (former) best friend.

Appearance: Maverick is the embodiment of “perfection” and that crosses over into his looks. He is roughly 6’1” and is quite lean. He has vibrant light blue eyes and a head of messy blonde hair that seems to always fall perfectly into place.

Personality: Maverick’s greatest flaw is undeniably his personality. To put it bluntly, he’s the best and he knows it. He manages to come across as nonchalant and egotistical on a good day - often just messing around or teasing both his enemies and coworkers alike, and while he can be quite charismatic, his laidback and annoying disposition tends to steer most people away. Although, you get the feeling that there seems to be something deeper lying beneath the surface even after all these years…

The Strategist: Carmen Reyes (She/Her)

Carmen Reyes, lead strategist of the Astra and to put it bluntly the only one with any common sense. She is an intimidating presence - although that might just be due to her title of the best hand to hand combatant of the Astra. You used to be co-workers and classmates but that was a long time ago.

Appearance: Carmen’s beauty is just another thing that adds to her imposing nature. She is roughly 5’11” and has spent years building up her muscular physique. She has curly dark brown hair that rests just below her chin and surprisingly sharp hazel eyes that seem to track your every move…

Personality: Carmen can be considered reserved and wise at best and completely distant at worst. She has a professional air to her that most officials and authority respect, but it can come across as aloof or boring especially when comparing her to the loud personalities that the rest of the Astra has. That’s not to say she is uncaring though - in fact she is arguably the most moral of the group - or at least she was back when you were a member…

The Heart: Silas Jones (He/Him)

Silas Jones, arguably the kindest member of the Astra. He’s excitable and naive - if not a bit endearing. He tends to act as the mediator between the public and the other members of the Astra when necessary. You don’t remember being particularly close with him back when you were in the Astra so it’s surprising how desperately he seems to want your attention now…

Appearance: Silas is roughly 5’8” and has dark brown skin with glowing silver marks scattered across his body. He has black locs that have been dyed red at the tips and dark brown eyes that seem to pull you in wherever you go…

Personality: Silas is easily the nicest of the group and can be quite soothing especially compared to the harsher personalities of the other members and higher ups of the Astra. He is incredibly open and energetic, if not a bit naive. He cares very deeply for the people around him and that clearly extends to you even after all these years. It does make you wonder why he is so interested though…

The Healer: Juno Aceso (She/Her)

Juno Aceso, head of the healing and medical department at Astra. She isn’t what most people expect when they hear the words “doctor” but she is a breath of fresh air compared to the rest of the group. You were close with her back when you were in the Astra…or at least as close as you can be with someone like her.

Appearance: Juno is roughly 5’5”. She has deathly pale skin and dark eyebags that frame her murky green eyes. Her straight chestnut colored hair lands right at her chest, though she usually keeps it up in a bun.

Personality: If Carmen is distant and Maverick is nonchalant then Juno is on a whole other level. She is practically apathetic with her laidback nature and tends to be quite removed from everyone else. That’s not to say she has no personality though. She can be incredibly snarky and sarcastic when she wants to be. Unsurprisingly, she seems the least invested in your return. Although you get an odd feeling whenever she glances your way…

The Star: Payton Monroe (They/Them)

Payton Monroe is nothing if not a star. They embrace the celebrity status that comes with being a member of the Astra with open arms. You weren’t particularly close with them back when you were in the Astra but you heard the rumors of their exploits…

Appearance: Payton is roughly 5’7” and seems to make it their life’s goal to make themself as appealing as possible. They have ivory colored skin and dazzling lavender eyes. Their hair is shoulder length and white with streaks of pink going through it.

Personality: Payton is someone who has no issue embracing the finer things in life. They are far more interested in the public image aspect of being a member of the Astra and that comes across in nearly every interaction. While they are quite flirtatious, they seem to hold no interest in pursuing an actual relationship. Maybe you’ll be the one to change that…

The Newbie: Amari Gray (Gender Selectable)

Amari Gray, the newest member of the Astra. Not much is known about them - they joined after you left and they don’t seem exactly interested in getting to know you. They tend to be annoyed with you more often than not but you get the feeling that they are that way with most people. Although, their constant avoidance towards you specifically is quite odd…

Appearance: Amari is roughly 5’3”. They have tan skin and sharp gray eyes that seem to be set in a perpetual glare. They have thick white hair that is currently styled as a short undercut. They have a few piercings and tattoos.

Personality: You don’t know much about Amari but one thing you do know is that they don’t like you. They are either actively avoiding you or are going out of their way to pick fights with you. They seem incredibly familiar which makes their determination on making your life miserable even weirder…

DEMO TBA

#if: intro #interactive fiction #if: exculpate #interactive novel #interactive game #if wip #interactive fiction wip #choicescript #wip if #wip intro #wip #dashingdon #cog wip #cog #choice of games #hosted games #intro post

[nobody-nexus]

🎪Welcome To The Sinful Circus!🎪

Kasper Klovni is a coder for hire who accepted a job with someone who claimed to be making a VR game known as ‘The Amazing Digital Circus’, which will be a kid’s game full of colorful characters and wondrous environments. Kasper asked for a beta of the game and was given one with no hesitation, which although a little concerning, he didn’t think too much on it. When he started up the game however, he passed out. When he woke up, he was within a clown-like body and at the entrance to the amusement park. He looked around as he noticed a shock collar on him. What… happened?

Player/NPC Name: Kaufmo Real Name: Kasper Klovni Career: Coder For Hire Age: 25 Height: 5’9’’ Gender: Cis Male (He/Him) Game Role: Protagonist/Player

Player/NPC Name: Pomni, or ‘Jester’ Real Name: Polina Shutnik Career: Accountant Age: 25 Normal Height: 5’3’’ Sin Form Height: 7’3’’ Gender: Trans Female (She/Her) Sin: Wrath Game Role: Tutorial/Secret Boss Level Difficulty: ⭐⭐ Sinful Level Difficulty: ⭐⭐⭐

Player/NPC Name: Ragatha, or ‘Ragdoll’ Real Name: Amanda Dollie Career: Seamstress Age: 30 Normal Height: 5’11’’ Sin Form Height: 7’11’’ Gender: Cis Female (She/Her) Sin: Lust Game Role: Main Level Boss Level Difficulty: ⭐⭐⭐ Sinful Level Difficulty: ⭐⭐⭐⭐

Player/NPC Name: Jax, or ‘Jackrabbit’ Real Name: Jackson Conejito Career: Corner Store Clerk Age: 22 Normal Height: 6’3’’ Sin Form Height: 8’3’’ Gender: Trans Male (He/Him) Sin: Sloth Game Role: Main Level Boss Level Difficulty:⭐ Sinful Level Difficulty:⭐

Player/NPC Name: Gangle, or ‘Tragedy’ Real Name: Grace Mezzanine Career: Broadway Actress Age: 26 Normal Height: 5’8’’ Sin Form Height: 7’8’’ Gender: Cis Female (She/Her) Sin: Envy Game Role: Main Level Boss Level Difficulty: ⭐⭐⭐ Sinful Difficulty Level: ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

Player/NPC Name: Zooble or ‘Mix’n’Match’ Real Name: Zoe Jiggsaww Career: Tattoo Artist Age: 22 Normal Height: 6’3’’ Sin Form Height: 8’3’’ Gender: Agender (They/Them) Sin: Greed Game Role: Main Level Boss Level Difficulty: ⭐⭐⭐ Sinful Level Difficulty: ⭐⭐⭐⭐

Player/NPC Name: Kinger or ‘King’ Real Name: Cesar Kingston Career: College Professor Age: 48 Normal Height: 6’8’’ Sin Form Height: 8’8’’ Gender: Cis Male (He/Him) Sin: Gluttony Game Role: Main Level Boss Level Difficulty: ⭐⭐ Sinful Level Difficulty: ⭐⭐⭐⭐

Player/NPC Name: Caine or ‘Boaster’ Real Name: Caine Ringler Career: TV Show Host Age: 28 Normal Height: 5’5’’ Sin Form Height: 7’5’’ Gender: Cis Male (He/Him) Sin: Pride Game Role: Main Level Boss Level Difficulty: ⭐⭐⭐⭐ Sinful Level Difficulty: ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sinful Circus AU is an AU where Kasper, or Kaufmo, ends up within a prison made by a deranged tech genius, forcing people who have wronged them or wronged society into a horror filled hellscape where they slowly forget who they are and slowly think that they’ve always been nothing more then NPCs and AI within the theme park/circus. Every character, once succumbing to their fate, is given their own section of the circus- however any who end up dying end up becoming reused code for the rest of the theme park. Kasper ends up befriending the most sane “NPC”, who is Pomni. Although she’s not exactly your ally, she’s still willing to help- even if at times she tends to dive into her NPC brain here and there, but never on purpose

I've been reworking for like over a week now, and I'm SO HAPPY with this new version of it. It's exactly how I wanted it to be ^^. Here's some things to clarify:

YES there will be more characters. No, you can't ask for your ocs to be in this AU. I will ask YOU for it if I want them in. But there won't be many -

YES I will allow this to be a SHIP AWAY kind of AU. Notice how there's no sexualities. I want as many people to enjoy this AU as possible, so I will allow you to ship to your hearts content, even ask me questions about certain dynamics. The only thing I ask is that if you make any fan content of the ship Bunnydoll (Jax x Ragatha), I ask to NOT show it to me. I don't wanna yuck anyone's yum, that ship just personally makes me uncomfortable, but if you like it- ship away- there's no judgement here -

NO you do NOT have my permission to make ask-blogs or chat AIs around this AU. You can have ask blogs inspired by (EX: Swap AUs) but nothing more. I don't want any misinterpretation about Sinful Circus, especially since I've worked very hard on this. I hope you understand -

ASK AWAY! My inbox is nice and OPEN to any and all questions you may have! I'm not trying to hide anything about this AU, but the masterlist doc is still in the works, so if you have anything you'd like to know, just inbox it to me! I suggest keeping any suggestive questions to a minimum- minors follow me after all -

YES for fan content! Inspired by this and wanna make something with it? You don't have to tell me twice! GO FOR IT! And please @ me if you do so! I always love supporting my fellow creators, so go right ahead!

I think that's everything for now! I hope to see you all soon with more for this reworked AU! I'm cooking up some more designs (just in the future). Have a wonderful day anyone who was willing to read through ALL of this ^^

#the amazing digital circus #amazing digital circus #the digital circus #digital circus #tadc #pomni #tadc pomni #pomni tadc #digital circus pomni #ragatha #tadc ragatha #ragatha tadc #digital circus ragatha #jax #tadc jax #jax tadc #digital circus jax #gangle #tadc gangle #gangle tadc #digital circus gangle #zooble #tadc zooble #zooble tadc #digital circus zooble #kinger #tadc kinger #kinger tadc #digital circus kinger #caine

[thesupreme316]

aew stars reacting to their gfs being a boss ass bitch 🤭

nick wayne x female reader, darius martin x female reader, hook x female reader, action andretti x female reader, dante martin x female reader, Eddie kingston x female reader, ricky starks x female reader! even for fun throw in anna jay x female reader, skye blue x female reader, and/or Julia hart x female reader????

AEW Stars React to: You Being A Rich and Famous CEO

Pairings: Nick Wayne x Fem!reader, Darius Martin x Fem!reader, hook x Fem!reader, Dante Martin x Fem!reader, Eddie Kingston x Fem!reader, Ricky Starks x Fem!reader, Julia Hart x Fem!reader

Word Count: 1.1K

Supreme Speaks: hey all sorry for being late/m.i.a, i started school (senior yearrrrr) and been trying to adjust my schedule. i is back now . thanks to my baeee @hooks-martin for requesting. i hope everyone enjoys it. please remember that you are loved and appreciated.

Warnings: this is my perspective of a "boss ass bitch" may have indications that reader is a suga momma (hey at least you got money), I kind of cut Andretti out cause I didn’t really know how to write him without being repetitive

Taglist: @hooks-martin @hookerforhook @wwenhlimagines @triscillal @sheinthatfandom @eddie-kingstons-wifey @cassie0sstuff

Every woman must ask themselves a question:

How are you a boss bitch? WELL BITCH LEMME TELL YOU

You are the CEO of a popular brand (cooking, makeup, clothing, etc.)

At one point you were featured in Vogue, Forbes, TIMES, everything

Rich? Check. Gorgeous? check. Smart? Check. YOU CHECKED ALL THE BOXES (and you do irl, don’t doubt yourself)

Everyone bowed to you as you displayed class, poise, and grace

But also you weren’t afraid to get tough if pushed in the wrong way

Which is what made you so likable and relatable

And that’s what made your boyfriend fall for you

Ricky Starks

MANS LOVE IT

This man was made for the luxury lifestyle

Don’t think this would be a one-sided relationship

He would spoil you too (IM A BELIEVER THAT RICKY SPOILS EVERYONE IN HIS LIFE)

Flowers, nice ass clothes from unpopular brands, things even you didn’t know existed

Would constantly brag about you on Instagram and in promos

“I think y’all are just mad that you don’t have a smoking hot, hardworking, intelligent, and rich girlfriend.”

Will do anything to make sure you feel well taken care of

Will play jokes on you like pretending to use your card when paying for dinner

“I mean you can spare 15 dollars…what do you mean no? Cheapskate.”

Nick Wayne

He found out by accident tbh…I think he genuinely didn’t know that you were rich

Or he didn’t know how rich you are

Nick is so sweet and I think he would be so humble about this

He doesn’t know what he did to deserve you

Will feel at first weird about receiving gifts from you

I think he would be a little bit insecure about what he can do for you

But over time will start accepting them

Your attitude? He loves it

He loves how you’re able to take charge in spaces

“Babe, it’s just ketchup. I don’t like but I’ll eat it- please don’t argue with the cashier.”

I think he likes being taken care of…..cause he’s a lil baby

Darius Martin

Mans was enamored with your intelligence and your determination

Truly loves how your mind works and he uses you as a form of inspiration

Loves how you can tell off haters and people who dare to challenge you

Sometimes will forget that you have money or that you’re a CEO

“How did you get those shoes? Those came out this m-wait, you’re rich.”

Is always surprised with how much time you can make for him in your busy schedule

I feel like Darius will spoil you too like Ricky but with stuff that you would not really buy

Like lil trinkets and food

Would quietly brag about you and your accomplishments

Darius will post pictures of your achievements on insta and will block people who dare to trash talk you

Hook

Hook loves how humble you are about it

You would never flash your money to people just out of nowhere

But he also likes how you would quietly flex

Like he would get random gifts from you when you were away from him

Taz: What are these boxes?

Hook: Oh, Y/N got me some Jordans, new hoodies, and hair products……they were on sale, I think

As he is a private person, no one would know about your relationship except for close friends and families

And ya’ll prefer it that way; no eyes, no pressure, no one in your business

I also think that Hook would try to stop you from paying and buying so much

Sometimes, he’ll buy something before you so that way you can save money and not waste it

Knowing you, you’re gonna send that money to him and continue to shop

Dante Martin

Like Nick Wayne, HE’S A BABY

Like his brother, he would often forget that you’re rich

Because of the fact that Dante likes you for your personality

Doesn’t know how to react to your gifts

Feels overwhelmed, and grateful, but feels kind of embarrassed (cause he’s not used to this type of affection)

Is grateful for everything but assures that you don’t need to buy him anything

Will try to buy you things, but forgets that you basically already have it

“I got you this-oh you have five of them already.” (Cue you throwing the ones you already have away)

I also think he would do things that he thinks is unique for you

Like mans would create a finishing move and name it after you

Eddie Kingston (I’m finna go in)

MANS DOES NOT BELIEVE THAT HE DESERVES YOU

Also did not know how rich you were

Like he is in denial that you really like him, and would try to make sure that you don’t spend any money

Sometimes, he thinks that you’re spending money on him as a pity/sympathetic move

Cause of that, you two agreed that major presents/spending are only acceptable for special occasions

I think he also keeps track of how much you have spent on him and puts himself in debt to you

Becomes self-conscious around you, it was like pulling teeth with him to tell you

“Doll, I just think I can’t do anything for you. I don’t deserve you at all. But I love you so fucking much.”

Y’all give each other another perspective of the world and slowly Eddie starts accepting that you guys belong together

Julia Hart

Like Ricky, this woman THRIVES in this relationship

She would be private about your relationship like Hook, barely making any posts referring to you

But takes everything you give her with a smile and gratitude

Cause do ya’ll know how expensive goth and alternative clothes are?

Loves to go on shopping trips with you, loves to travel and try new things

“Can we go here? Yeah I know we went there last week but it was pretty”

You also start using her as a model for your company

This would be a beneficial relationship for the two of you as she always gives back

With dates, gifts, and straight-up surprises

She also sets you up with security services from the House of Black

#aew #all elite wrestling #aew imagine #all elite wrestling imagines #aew hook #aew hook imagine #eddie kingston #eddie kingston x reader #eddie kingston imagine #aew hook x reader #darius martin x reader #aew darius martin #darius martin imagine #dante martin #dante martin imagine #ricky starks #ricky starks x reader #ricky starks imagine #nick wayne #nick wayne x reader #nick wayne imagine #julia hart #julia hart x reader #julia hart imagine

[columboscreens]

My favorite genre of Columbo murderer is the one that hangs around and annoys Columbo the whole episode and is utterly surprised when they gets caught.

i would argue that the ones who hang around with him the most actually tend to be the least surprised when finally caught. carsini, brown, and rumford, arguably three of the most in-love-with-columbo murderers of the series, never object to hanging out with him, and they're all totally stoic and almost expecting their arrest when he finally nails them. they've all realized exactly how smart and dedicated he is in his pursuit. in fact, they have another thing in common at the episode's denouement--all of them were dying to confess the entire time, and when they do, it is with such stunning amounts of adoration, reverence, and grace that it waxes weirdly poetic

Loving Killer's Quatrain how i so longed to confess my misdeeds that i'm relieved this charade can now cease for as your shackles chain my trembling wrist by you alone i now ache to be kissed

the ones who are most surprised are the ones who want to fucking push him down the stairs. galesko, kingston, hanlon--they're the ones who want nothing more than to beat columbo's head in, and they're the ones who are most blown away by their defeat because they were so busy daydreaming about shoving him into oncoming traffic that they never stopped to appreciate his intellect.

:o huh

#columbo #ask #text #any old port in a storm #swan song #by dawns early light #negative reaction #suitable for framing #the most crucial game

[eliaswoodt]

The Name List

Organized from A-Z (yes I will add more names whenever I find more I like, probably in reblogs)

I currently have 1035 names (and that’s only including the first names. I have a list of last names, too.)

Angel, Atticus, Atlas, Apollo, Ares, Athena, Achilles, Artemis, Adonis, Avery, Aubrey, Aubry, Aceline, Ashlynn, Aislinn, Anjanette, Arthur, Archer, Addison, Arrietty, Amity, Autumn, Alastor, Alastair, Alasdair, Alistair, Alison, Arren, Arin, Astra, Aoife, Adalyn, Adeleine, Astoria, Agnes, Angus, Abigail, Ann, Anne, Ambrose, Adeline, Avarsel, Agatha, Ari, Azariah, Aniyah, Armani, Anastasia, Annabelle, Adah, Adelaide, Avis, Amelia, August, Axel, Adelina, Amir, Amin, Ayala, Arne, Averett, Adil, Astro, Ava, Anti, Ailun, Akemi, Asahi, Akari, Asako, Atsuko, Azumi, Aka, Aren, Akko

Blossom, Bambi, Babs, Bo, Bella, Blair, Bea, Bonnabel, Badeea, Betty, Bailey, Boris, Bee, Bugs, Blaise, Benjamin, Bog, Buford, Beatrice, Bryce, Bryan, Bazil, Brutus, Bellamy, Brigitte, Bailee, Bailey, Bao, Belladona, Belladonna, Bell, Bill, Bishop, Bones, Boneothy, Benno, Behemoth, Barry, Bellynn, Bowie, Bunki

Clover, Canyon, Cleo, Cameron, Celestial, Celestino, Ciro, Camilo, Cain, Charlotte, Clara, Corey, Cin, Charlie, Cassidy, Chiara, Callista, Cisco, Cynthia, Casper Clinton, Celestina, Clement, Christopher, Cornelius, Clifford, Claudius, Carey, Carrie, Coatl, Cyrus, Cyril, Cecil, Caisus, Castiel, Calla, Cosmos, Cherry, Cheryl, Crowley, Crow, Cassius, Cliodna, Clíodhna, Cliona, Conan, Cordelia, Calypso, Cas, Cillian, Chiyo, Chiaki, Chihiro, Calcifer

Danny, Darlene, Dex, Dot, Diana, Daphne, Demeter, Daedalus, Daeddel, Darphel, Dawn, Derrick, Derek, Dravan, Dravid, Drae, Dallas, Dimas, Dominic, Damien, Drew, Delilah, Dakota, Darian, Darius, Darwin, Devan, Darla, Dagmar, Daelyn, Dale, Dae, Dacey, Desmond, Dabria, Daniel, Daniela, Danialla, David, Davis, Donnel, Dennis, Demitrius, Delaney, Daiki, Daiyu

Everest, Emery, Ember, Elliott, Elliot, Earlana, Eliseo, Ezequiel, Emie, Evan, Eloise, Eric, Emmet, Elizabeth, Eugene, Ethan, Eret, Ester, Elias, Eos, Ellis, Edwin, Ebony, Elijah, Eliza, Enzo, Elissa, Edward, Eddalyn, Esther, Eda, Edalyn, Edalynn, Edison, Eddison, Estervan, Emma, Eden, Erfan, Eun-hae, Erytheia, Egan, Errol, Eiichi, Eiji, Eriko, Etsu, Etsuko, Eiichiro, Ezume

Flint, Finn, Fae, Fred, Fritz, Fang, Frankie, Frank, Fermin, Freddie, Freddy, Finley, Freya, Fai, Felix, Freda, Faolan, Frey, Feylynn, Faelynn, Failynn, Felipa, Febby, Febbie, Febie, Feby, Flynn, Fuji, Feiyu, Fukiko, Fumitaka, Fumito, Fuyuko

Griffin, Garnet, Gothi, Gertrude, Gabe, Grant, Giovanni, George, Gage, Gregory, Gabriel, Gabrielle, Guy, Gilbert, Guadalupe, Gerry, Grey, Gray, Gia, Grace, Gracian, Gracis, Gracie, Gretel, Gideon, Griffilow, Ghost, Ghazaleh, Gavin, Gryphon, Griffith, Goliath, Grayson, Greyson

Harmony, Hannah, Harlei, Harlie, Haritha, Haris, Harry, Harlan, Harvey, Hadrian, Harley, Hari, Harlow, Howl, Hank, Harper, Herbert, Humphrey, Hestia, Helios, Hephaestus, Hollis, Hunter, Hero, Henry, Helda, Hajar, Hasta, Hadis, Howard, Howie, Hannan, Haoyu, Hisako, Hachi, Hiroto, Hoshiko, Honoka, Hiroshi, Hiro, Haitao, Hamako, Haruhi, Harue, Hayate, Hide, Hideyo, Hidetaka, Hisaye, Hisayo, Heiji, Higari

Ivy, Ivey, Ivo, Ida, Iris, Ilyssa, Illy, Irene, Iren, Isaiah, Ira, Idelle, Ivan, Illaoi, Isabel, Isabell, Isabelle, Isobell, Isabella, Ismelda, Io, Ismael, Isolt, Icarus, izuru, Isamu, Itona, Ichiro, Ichiko, Ichigo, Isoko, Ishiko, Isaye, Inari, Ikuko, Itsuki, Itsuko, Inosuke

Juniper, Jupiter, Jinx, Jamie, Javier, Josiah, Joan, Jake, Julia, Jamil, Jamila, Jesse, Jessie, Jess, Jasper, Janus, Jordan, Joshua, Julian, Juilliard, Julius, Juliana, Jeremiah, Jace, June, Junebug, Jazzy, Jackson, Jackie, Jackalynn, Jodie, Johnnie, Jan, Jaime, Jason, Jorge, Justin, Justice, John, Jay, Janelle, James, Jennifer, Jillion, Jill, Jana, Jonah, Jaycee, Jaxen, Junpei, Jona, Jun, Jin

Kenneth, Kat, Kas, Kris, Keith, Kingston, Kaeton, Kingsley, Kent, Katherine, Kyle, Knox, Kristen, Kristin, Kristeen, Kylie, Kaylee, Kamila, Kehlani, Kendall, Kerry, Kry, Kenny, Kath, Kathleen, Krow, Kix, Kedrick, Kennon, Klaus, Killian, Korallia, Krank, Kaz, Kaede, Kirara, Katsuhiko, Keisuke, Kanako, Kenji, Kaemon, Kamin, Katsu, Kaki, Kazane, Kazuyuki, Kazushige, Kenta, Kei, Kimi, Kin, Kohako, Koichi, Kota, Koji, Koharu, Kosuke, Kuma, Kumi, Kuniko, Kuniyuki, Kideko, Kazuko

Lullaby, Lotte, Lapin, Lorelei, Loralai, Lorelai, Luna, Lily, Lucy, Lee, Liana, Lola, Lethe, Lance, Laurence, Luther, Luca, Lennon, Logan, Lennox, Ilias, Liu, Lui, Luis, Lefu, Liam, Lyall, Lowell, Luella, Leona, Leonie, Leon, Lev, Lincoln, Lin, Link, Laverna, Lazarus, Lewis, Louis, Louise, Levi, Leslie, Lesley, Leilana

Marley, Marlai, Mei, May, Mae, Marceline, Marshall, Marshalee, Millie, Mallorie, Marcela, Melanie, Maddison, Mary, Mirabel, Marsh, Murphy, Montgomery, Mildred, Memphis, Molly, Maverick, Maurice, Muiris, Morgen, Max, Moses, Marion, Merrill, Monroe, Melanthios, Maxwell, Matias, Melissa, Maëlle, Marlene, Meredith, Maybelle, Margaret, Maeve, Moss, Mara, Maria, Myrtle, Mona, Mark, Markus, Michael, Micheal, Michelle, Mahsa, Minoo, Mehdi, Mohammad, Matin, Morpheus, Marlowe, Monica, Marilia, Magnus, Malachi, Malachy, Maggie, Makoto, Megumi, Mio, Maemo, Maemi, Masa, Masaaki, Masashi, Michi, Midori, Michinori, Momo, Motoko

Natasha, Noelle, Noni, Neville, Nixon, Neda, Natalio, Ned, Nausicaä, Noxis, Nova, Nathen, Newt, Noah, Nash, Nox, Nathara, Nathaira, Nathair, Nyoka, Nagisa, Nathan, Nate, Nik, Nick, Naohiro, Naoko, Nara, Natsu, Naoya, Nishi, Nobuko, Nori

Olindo, Ollie, Oliver, Ophelia, Odysseus, Orion, Osono, Oxen, Onyx, Otto, Ottoline, Otitile, Ottavia, Octavio, Olivia-Marie, Oakley, Omar, Olivia, Oscar, Octavian, Octavia, Oz, Octavius, Otta, Oisin, Orson, Orlos, Osiris, Owen, Odalis, Odell, Ozuru

Penelope, Patton, Paddy, Percy, Paulie, Page, Pazu, Phoebe, Phebe, Prairie, Porter, Parlay, Pally, Piper, Parker, Payton, Phil, Paul, Philip, Pyre, Piers, Phylis, Patricia, Payne, Payneton, Pip

Quinn, Quincy, Quil, Quinley, Quinstin, Quinlan, Quillen, Quavon, Quaylon, Quensley, Qing, Qrow, Quilla, Quianna, Quita, Qiao, Quinella, Queenie, Qaylah, Qailah, Qitarah, Quenby, Qadira, Qudsiyah, Quan, Qian, Quinby, Quella

Roseline, Raul, Rahul, Rafael, Roque, Rogelio, Remmy, Rei, Rey, Ray, Robin, Ro, Reika, Rowen, Rowan, Rose, Rosie, Ralsei, Riley, Remus, Rosalyn, Rosalin, Rosaline, Renata, Ron, Rat, Ratt, Reef, Roxy, River, Reed, Rufus, Robbie, Renee, Rivia, Ross, Rex, Ruth, Rosemary, Rosabe, Rosabee, Rosabell, Rosabelle, Rosabel, Rai, Rain, Rosella, Rosalie, Rhody, Robert, Raelinn, Rebane, Ren, Rollin, Ralph, Roxanne, Rox, Roderick, Reginald, Reggie, Rio, Ryu, Ryo, Ryoji, Rinmaru

Sage, Sam, Syd, Selkie, Storig, Sal, Sirius, Summer, Susie, Scott, Sunni, Sosuke, Sophie, Satsuki, Sheeta, San, Sulley, Sully, Savannah, Sappho, Selene, Shaw, Sean, Seán, Shaun, Sawyer, Sabrina, Sebastian, Shane, Stan, Socks, Snom, Stolas, Spencer, Sammie, Stevie, Samus, Sarff, Sullivan, Seth, Susiebell, Susiebelle, Sadreddin, Shellaine, Sverre, Saoirse, Sylvania, Sanae, Silas, Sumi, Shiori, Shinzu, Sile

Toby, Tobias, Teddy, Ted, Tomas, Thomas, Tomothy, Tyche, Taiga, Tundra, Tracy, Timothy, Troy, Tatum, Tommie, Tommy, Theia, Tae, Trix, Trixy, Thanathos, Tod, Todd, Toddy, Tora, Torie, Theodore, Theo, Theophania, Talos, Thanatos, Teddy, Tomohito, Tazu, Tanjirou, Touya

Ulysses, Urijah, Uriyah, Urina, Ukiah, Ulnar, Ursula, Ulric

Virgil, Vanessa, Vito, Venacio, Vylad, Veronica, Valentina, Violet, Velma, Venus, Verna, Veld, Victoria, Victorie, Vinyl, Vincent, Vasuki, Vex, Valor, Valentine, Valerie, Valeria, Valerius, Vitoria, Vic, Victor, Vik, Vikktor, Viktor, Vick, Vicky, Vicke, Vickie, Vidya

Wynn, Willow, Warren, Wilbur, Wylie, Will, Walle, Whisp, Wade, Wendell, Wendy, Willard, Wes, Wallace, Wilber, Wyatt, Wybie, Wynnie, Wennie, Winnie, Wynnston, Wynston, Wynsten, Wiles

Xenophon, Xuan, Xio, Xori, Xanthos, Xander, Xavier

Yen, Yukio, Yae, Yoko, Yume, Yaeko, Yui, Yuzuki

Zane, Zana, Zion, Zachary, Zach, Zachariah, Zander, Ziana, Zoe, Zula, Zenix, Zenith, Zaharia, Zaria, Zack, Zakaeia, Zara, Zakaria, Zev, Zaira, Zanata

#my posts #character names #name suggestions #name ideas #name list #names #trans #transfem #transmasc #transgender #nonbinary #genderfluid #genderqueer #agender #genderflux #bigender #demigender #demiboy #demigirl #if you want names #i got em #like a fuckin fae #takin whatever names i like

[brokenfuturerpg]

PBS FEMENINOS POR EDAD

Hola personitas. Venimos con un aporte que nos ha costado un tiempito reunir. Es posible que algunos PB tengan 1 añito más de lo que pone, porque igual cumplieron recién. Esperamos les guste ^^

-14

Evie Gardner (9)

Charlie Townsend (10)

Alexis & Ava McClure (10)

Everleight Souta (10)

Anniston Price (11)

Sienna Fizz (11)

Willow Morgan (11)

Blayke Busby (12)

Maya Le Clark (12)

Brooklynn Prince (13)

Kingston Foster (13)

Trinity Valenzuela (13)

14-17

River Woollard (14)

Isla Stanford (14)

Nuala Chee (14)

Shiloh Nelson (14)

Raegan Revord (15)

Sarah Dorothy Little (15)

Scarlett Estevez (15)

Cailey Fleming (16)

Indi Star (16)

Nicolette Durazzo (16)

Pressley Hosbach (16)

Priah Ferguson (16)

Havanna Winter (17)

Kristina Pimenova (17)

Mabel Chee (17)

McKenna Grace (17)

Ruby Rose Turner (17)

18-23

Dafne Keen (18)

Grace Vanderwaal (19)

Lily Chee (19)

Loreto Peralta (19)

Millie Bobby Brown (19)

Sissy Sheridan (19)

Anna CathCart (20)

Maddie Ziegler (20)

AmyBeth MnNulty (21)

Ava Michelle (21)

Billie Eilish (21)

Kaia Gerber (21)

Rowan Blanchard (21)

Sadie Sink (21)

Sophia Lillis (21)

Cara Taylor (22)

Iris Law (22)

Mackenzie Foy (22)

Meghan Roche (22)

Isabela Moner (22)

Yael Yurman (22)

Ester Expósito (23)

Kiernan Shipka (23)

24-29

Aitana Ocaña (24)

Amandla Stenberg (24)

Brec Bassinger (24)

Fran Summers (24)

Joey King (24)

Lani Baker (24)

Lily-Rose Depp (24)

Paris Berelc (24)

Sabrina Carpenter (24)

Ariel Winter (25)

Bella Thorne (25)

Elle Fanning (25)

Georgina Amorós (25)

Luna Bijl (25)

Maya Hawke (25)

Peyton List (25)

Sydney Sweeney (25)

Vittoria Ceretti (25)

Bella Hadid (26)

Camila Cabello (26)

Chloë Grace Moretz (26)

Ella Purnel (26)

Grace Elizabeth (26)

Hailee Steinfeld (26)

Jean Campbell (26)

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Momo Hirai (26)

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Olivia Holt (26)

Pyper America Smith (26)

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Valentina Zenere (26)

Zendaya(26)

Abigail Breslin (27)

Anya Taylor-Joy (27)

Courtney Eaton (27)

Dove Cameron (27)

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Jennie Kim (27)

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Lydia Graham (27)

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Sarah Gilman (27)

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Birgit Kos (28)

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Mina El Hammani (29)

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Taissa Farmiga (29)

30-39

Alycia Debnam-Carey (30)

Ariana Grande (30)

Charlotte McKinney (30)

Debby Ryan (30)

Elizabeth Gillies (30)

Irina Isasia (30)

Linnea Berthelsen (30)

Miley Cyrus (30)

Naomi Scott (30)

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Cara Delevigne (31)

Demi Lovato (31)

Gaia Weiss (31)

Grace Phipps (31)

Josefin Asplund (31)

Karlie Kloss (31)

Kate Upton (31)

Kaya Scodelario (31)

Lali Espósito (31)

Madeline Brewer (31)

Mimi Doblas (31)

Selena Gomez (31)

Shailene Woodley (31)

Vanessa Morgan (31)

Emma Roberts (32)

Jasmine Tookes (32)

Kiko Mizuhara (32)

Malese Jow (32)

Sarah Hyland (32)

Willa Holland (32)

Ashley Benson (33)

Brie Larson (33)

Daveigh Chase (33)

Emma Watson (33)

Indiana Evans (33)

Jane Levy (33)

Jennifer Lawrence (33)

Jordan Claire Robbins (33)

Kristen Stewart (33)

Leven Rambin (33)

Margot Robbie (33)

Sophie Cookson (33)

Taylor Swift (33)

Blanca Suárez (34)

Candice Swanepoel (34)

Cariba Heine (34)

Coco Rocha (34)

Emma Greenwell (34)

Emma Stone (34)

Emmy Raver-Lampman (34)

Elizabeth Olsen (34)

Janel Parrish (34)

Kat Graham (34)

Lily Collins (34)

Lily James (34)

Lucy Hale (34)

Nathalie Emmanuel (34)

Nina Dobrev (34)

Melissa Benoist (34)

Phoebe Tonkin (34)

Riley Keough (34)

Úrsula Corberó (34)

Vanessa Hudgens (34)

Zoë Kravitz (34)

Adele (35)

Ana de Armas (35)

Blake Lively (35)

Claire Holt (35)

Gemma Ward (35)

Jessie J (35)

Karen Gillan (35)

Rihanna (35)

Tania Raymonde (35)

Vanessa Kirby (35)

Alba Flores (36)

Candice Accola (36)

Chiara Ferragni (36)

Ellen Page (36)

Emilia Clarke (36)

Holland Roden (36)

Lyndsy Fonseca (36)

Rose Leslie (36)

Rosie Huntington-Whiteley (36)

Shay Mitchell (36)

Shelley Hennig (36)

Alexandra Daddario (37)

Amanda Seyfried (37)

Àstrid Bergès-Frisbey (37)

Camila Sodi (37)

Ilfenesh Hadera (37)

Irina Shayk (37)

Jameela Jamil (37)

Lady Gaga (37)

Lily Aldridge (37)

Leighton Meester (37)

Megan Fox (37)

Nathalie Kelley (37)

Pom Klementieff (37)

Ruby Rose (37)

Troian Bellisario (37)

Anna Kendrick (38)

Arden Cho (38)

Crystal Reed (38)

Diana Hoyos (38)

Doutzen Kroes (38)

Gal Gadot (38)

Isabel Lucas (38)

Jena Malone (38)

Katy Perry (38)

Keira Knightley (38)

Lana del Rey (38)

Laura Haddock (38)

Maggie Civantos (38)

Rooney Mara (38)

Scarlett Johansson (38)

Ashley Madekwe (39)

Gina Rodriguez (39)

Martha Higareda (39)

Olivia Wilde (39)

Paty Cantú (39)

Rachel Taylor (39)

Tessa Thompson (39)

Torrey DeVitto (39)

40-49

Alyssa Sutherland (40)

Anne Hathaway (40)

Emily Blunt (40)

Esther Acebo (40)

Gemma Chan (40)

Golshifteh Farahani (40)

Jamie Chung (40)

Katie McGrath (40)

Mila Kunis (40)

Miranda Kerr (40)

Nicky Minaj (40)

Alexis Bledel (41)

Anna Paquin (41)

Beyoncé (41)

Cobie Smulders (41)

Elisabeth Moss (41)

Hayley Atwell (41)

Kirsten Dunst (41)

Lauren Cohan (41)

Melissa Fumero (41)

Natalie Dormer (41)

Priyanka Chopra (41)

Bryce Dallas Howard (42)

Carrie Coon (42)

Genevieve Cortese (42)

Jenna Dewan (42)

Natalie Portman (42)

Stephanie Beatriz (42)

Hannah Simone (43)

Kristen Bell (43)

Rebel Wilson (43)

Sophia Myles (43)

Zooey Deschanel (43)

Bianca Lawson (44)

Claire Danes (44)

Evangeline Lilly (44)

Felicia Day (44)

Jennifer Morrison (44)

Jodi Lyn O’Keefe (44)

Maggie Q (44)

Rachel McAdams (44)

Rose Byrne (44)

Chelsea Peretti (45)

Cindy Sampson (45)

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Ginnifer Goodwin (45)

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#foroactivo #foro de rol #rol #foro rpg #rpg #foro #roleplay #resources #pb reales #pb

[canyousonicme]

Doctor Who's Alex Kingston on hiding River Song's biggest spoiler

"I'm very good at keeping secrets."

"She's not a companion, she's a wife!" Alex Kingston is quick to correct about her beloved Doctor Who character River Song.

And she's completely right. River Song is unlike any other Doctor Who character, first introduced in 2008's Silence in the Library and spanning multiple eras in one of the most complex and glorious timelines to ever grace the show.

"She's the most incredible character to play, and certainly when the role was offered to me, I had obviously no idea of the journey that both she and I would be undertaking - because obviously in the very first Silence in the Library story, she dies," Kingston exclusively tells RadioTimes.com.

"So, I just thought it was a two-episode job. Little did I know! I also didn't really know the personalities of Russell [T Davies] or Steven Moffat, and if I had, maybe I would have had an inkling that there must be more than this."

River's had countless adventures since she was first introduced more than a decade ago - she's appeared on-screen with three different incarnations of the Doctor and, in her work with Big Finish, Kingston has collaborated with every single living actor to have played the Time Lord.

But there's one particular scene that many fans will never forget. In the emotional season 6 episode A Good Man Goes to War, River reveals to Karen Gillan's Amy and Arthur Darvill's Rory that she's their daughter, Melody, providing a plot twist for the ages.

In an incredibly apt turn of events, showrunner Moffat told Kingston about the reveal a good six weeks before everyone else, with the actress having to keep the explosive secret to herself because... well, spoilers.

"On this particular occasion, I was asked whether I'd be available, and Steven also contacted me and basically gave me the rundown of the storyline ahead of anybody else knowing," she recalls.

"He didn't want [the other actors] to know, because I think he didn't want their performances in any way to be altered with that knowledge - and also, in a funny sort of way, in the episodes that we had filmed prior, I didn't know either.

"The performances that you get from all of the actors are incredibly true, because there is no knowledge about who you really are or what you're going to reveal.

"I quite liked that, because you literally play - and, in fact, one always has to do this with Steven because he has so many threads that he's just tossed out to drift on the wind, until he decides to pull that thread back in and tie it up with something else. So you just have to literally play the moment all the time and not think about anything else.

"So, when Steven did give me this insight, I had a very big secret that I had to keep. The other actors, Karen, Arthur and Matt, they knew that I had a secret and I just wasn't going to tell them.

"There were bribes and all sorts of things... but I wasn't going to give the secret away. Even on the filming day, the script didn't have the reveal in it.

"Steven didn't put it in the script because he didn't want any of the crew to know and he didn't want that storyline and that secret to somehow get out before the audience actually saw it for the first time on television.

#Alex Kingston #River Song #Doctor Who #Steven Moffat #DW 60th #Interview #Radio Times #2023

[paganminiskirt]

Summary: There’s a half eaten bag of bison jerky in one of the fridges, and Nora scarfs them down while Grace goes outside to signal for help. With the shooting finished, you can hear the susurration of the slumbering forest, smell the dry wood and river moss, the ever present smoke of burning crops. She folds the empty plastic package in half, watching the electric blue streak of a flare shoot up into the night sky through an empty window frame. Memories float through her mind - picking at scabbed over mosquito bites past midnight on Laurent’s expansive porch, dumping cool ash into a trash can atop rib bones and cigarette butts in her aunt’s Florida backyard - but the flare disrupts the flow of them. Nora never saw anything like it in her old life, before all this; fireworks don’t burn on their way up, rattlesnakes don’t hiss as fast as the gun.

Grace strides back in, though, in her vest and fatigues, and as much as Nora wants to think she can do this herself, it is always comforting to have someone to assure her of the not-strangeness of war.

Rating: Mature, Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Pairing: Female Deputy/Grace Armstrong

Words: 9545

Read on AO3 here!

The radio’s still all deceptively gentle hymns and bouncy religious country, so Grace puts her iPod on the dashboard. The black casing is scratched all over, one long, jagged crack cutting through the screen. Nora raises her brows, her eyes half open.

“How old were you when you discovered that sumerian relic?” She mutters. She lifts a hand to lean the seat back, dropping it onto her thigh when she remembers where they are; a verdant backroad a mile or so outside of Fall’s End, newly secured, the sort of place where they might need to spring up fast. 

“You drive a 2012 Kimberlite.” Grace says. “Glass houses and all that shit.” 

“This isn’t my car!”

“And this isn’t my iPod.” She presses the button in the center, a little rectangle of white light cutting through the evening darkness. All the other snipers they know have garand thumb, Nora included; having just taken up arms in the past few months, they're still prone to letting the bolt catch their fingers. Only Grace’s is its natural pink-white. “My Uncle Ralph - well, a friend of the family, we called him my uncle - he used to bring it with him when we went fishing. Must’ve heard my pops say he wouldn’t buy me one a million times. One day, I caught a largemouth bass, and he just said “here” and gave it to me.”

Nora smiles. “What’d you do with the bass?”

“The two of them ate it.” Grace drawls. The nostalgia in her voice is a song of its own. ”I was so excited about having this, I didn’t even care.”

Music fades in, slow and airy with a female vocalist breathing out a string of la, la, la’s . Grace turns the volume down to a low hum, quiet enough to be able to hear everything outside the car - the long, low sigh of the breeze and the distant, rhythmic beeping of C4. 

“I think I listened to Signed, Sealed, Delivered fifty times that night alone.” Grace says, falling back into her seat. She doesn’t return the grin, but you could forget that by listening to her talk. “Never loved any other hand-me-down like that.”

“Oh I bet.” Nora rubs at the crick in her neck, pressing down on the bruise where the butt of her rifle rests; everytime it starts to heal, it comes back before long. Is it too much, right about now, to be trying to get her to laugh? “Here I was thinking you just went hard for old man music.”

She huffs, and Nora knows it’s the closest she’s going to get. “I don’t not like old man music.” Grace says. “My pops would never buy me new songs for it, anyways. I was ten years old, listening to Ray Charles and Glen Campbell on the bus home from school.” 

“And Outkast?”

“Eventually.” She tugs her scarf loose, wedges it between her neck and shoulder and lets her head rest there. Grace always sleeps in this position, when Nora has seen her sleep, upright and using whatever article of clothing is most convenient as a pillow; she read somewhere that military service gives you that skill. Maybe she’ll be able to do it herself when all this is over. 

“I bought this album myself, just before I enlisted.“ Grace says, blinking a few times in quick succession and picking at a piece of loose skin on that conspicuously pink thumb of hers. 

Nora nods. “That was what, 2002?”

“2001.” She says. “I was one of the 9/11 enlistments.”

Grace doesn’t sound proud of it, though Nora does pick up on a note of mournful sentimentality in her voice, the sort you’d expect to hear in someone reminiscing about a time when the mass killing of Americans was contained behind the grainy screen of a box television. Nora doesn’t press the subject, and for a minute, she thinks the silence they slipped into is comfortable. Grace looks out the window, adjusting her feet; Nora thinks nothing of it.

There are three short taps on her thigh.

“You hear that?” She says, the words as small and sharp as tacks. “That beeping?”

“I heard it earlier.” Nora says, more to humor her then anything else - because it’s no cause for concern, is it? “It’s coming from one of ours, right? The guys, Russo and White, they said they put charges on-”

“Yeah, I know.” Is Grace’s hasty reply. Nora turns in her seat and studies the scene behind the car, the limping trees and empty foliage; in the periphery of her vision, she can see Grace doing the same. “The sound is… off, though.” A low hanging branch on one of the trees shudders. It’s been shuddering for a while. “A little too fast. Not the rhythm I’m used to.”

“And it wouldn’t beep at all, if it were just broken.” Nora surmises. She bites her inner lip, heart squeezing in her chest. Grace may not be ready to get out just yet, but she flips her own door’s lock to the red side all the same. “Do the Peggies even use proximity c4? I’ve only ever dealt with grenades.”

“In the fields, usually, not the forest. Too easy to forget where they’re laid.”

There’s a field just down the road from here - six hours ago, Nora was eating lunch there. “We’re right outside Grainger field, aren’t we?”

Grace reaches into the backseat as a response, grabbing her rifle by the barrel and pulls it up to her chest. “I’m going out. Stay behind me.” 

Nora takes in one long, shaky breath. The car door clicks open and her boot crunches the ground, muttering as she swings it shut again. 

“Leave the music on.”

Hand to god, Nora wishes she had met Grace two decades earlier.

The shotgun she brought out with her tonight is a jet black twelve gauge, well kept for an older model, with a cylindrical silver suppressor to keep their nighttime excursion nice and lowkey. It’s as heavy as a fallen log in Nora’s arms, the picture of near-obsolete aughts machinery. She takes a box of shells from off the floor, shoving it in her pullover pocket; Grace is already a distance away, and she’s loath to leave her in the lurch, otherworldly competence or none.

Farther down the road, the foliage is so dense it encroaches on the dirt path, a great clutch of brambles and vines sloping up from a dried out river. Nora holds her gun tight as she slinks up behind Grace, stopping where the noise reaches a fever pitch, sharp and incessant.

“Look.” 

Nora has to squat to see what she’s seeing in the dusk. Underneath a scattering of torn up weeds are three sage green cubes of plastic strung together by black wires, a metal panel on one flashing a muted blue light. The design is alien to her; not one of theirs, not what she’d expect from a cultist. “Do you recognize it?”

“Recognize enough not to touch it.” Grace says darkly. Somewhere off to the east, a branch snaps; they both turn to see a crow streak up, across the evening sky. 

She scoffs. Nora shuts her eyes.

“Some of the guys…” She begins, resting the butt of her shotgun in the dirt. “...Casey, too, I think, they make their own explosives.” She stands up, trying to read the lines on her stony face. “I’d assume there’d be a cross stenciled on it, if it were one of theirs. They put it on everything else with a flat surface.”

Grace is silent for a long while, her stare blank as she tries to refine her intentions in a pool of swirling thoughts.

“I don’t trust it.” She mutters. “They knew someone would come down here eventually. They would’ve told us. Besides.” She meets Nora’s eyes. “This doesn’t look like it was put here to protect something, does it.”

It’s enough of a reason for her. “No it does not.”

Someone would’ve picked up on a full overtake of Grainger field, and it’s not as if either of them are prepared to mow down a huge group of cultists at the moment. But if Nora looks north for long enough, she can see the stone corner of a building, jutting out from the trees some half a mile ahead of them. 

“So, we just… do a sweep. Make sure there are no others.” 

“And blow this up when we get back.” Grace adds. There’s a high click as she chambers another bullet, the ease with which she does it still bewildering after all these weeks. “Let Mary May know what’s up, can’t have anyone walking this way without watching their step.” 

Nora nods. “If we find something big, should we fall back, alert the others?”

Grace gives their surroundings a cursory glance, the hard line of her mouth turning more mirthful for a second. 

“I see plenty of climbable trees, don’t you?” 

Of course, now she wants to play. “My legs are killing me.”

“Adrenaline is good for that!”

She tosses her a radio as she says it, faux brightness dispelling the anxiety creeping across Nora’s chest for a while. It settles back in once they’re on the move, a tight, pulsating chill in her center of gravity that lingers even as they get off the dirt path and onto the road, away from the bomb. 

There hasn’t been consistent enemy activity in these forests for over a month, and the wheat in Grainger field is high enough to keep them covered from the western approach. Nora crouches for the first ten minutes or so, then says fuck it and stands up - any unsavory individuals lurking in the grain could easily pick her head out through a scope when she’s standing this way, the Falls End logo on her front the exact size and shape of a target, but the sun has almost disappeared entirely, and Nora would rather be dead than scurry along bent over with a heavy piece of metal for one more minute. 

Grace has no such issue, of course, her spine a seamless curve all the way down the road. Even with a straight back, Nora can hardly keep up with her, but she resolves to match Grace’s speed with such adamance that she actually reaches the office building first - what used to be an office building, rather. It’s something else now.

Even in the dark, the scars of its destruction make themselves known; the blackened square spaces where the windows used to be, wind flowing freely through a collapsed roof. There’s a dead man on the stairs, his overalls stained with blood around his chest and neck, bullet casings littering the ground around him like autumn leaves.

For a moment, Nora only listens and looks, inspecting the man’s hands, his pockets. Was he even armed? She doesn’t see a weapon anywhere, and maintenance jobs don’t require the carrying of one. Grace’s voice reminds her what they came there for, hustling up behind her after giving the sides of the building a quick check.

“We’re too late.” 

She gives a slight nod of acknowledgement; she should give more input, show Grace she’s not out of it on the battlefield, but there’s a cherry red light off to the northeast that’s keeping her transfixed. 

“Nobody has been here.” Nora says softly. “For at least half a day.”

She takes a few steps forward, three casings knocked aside by the tip of her boot. The blood around the man’s chest is honey-like, congealed, starting to dry in places the pool is the thinnest.

“What’d they want with this building, anyways?” Grace asks behind her. “We’re not in Eden’s Gate territory. Why come behind enemy lines for this?”

Nora shakes her head. “This was a small party, I think. Three, maybe five. Look.” She nudges the barrel of her gun in the direction of the man’s feet, which are covered only by dirty gray socks. “Took everything but the shells.”

Grace swears. “A whole lot of mess for office supplies and some poor fuck’s boots.”

“And whatever else they could find, yeah.” Nora says. She shoots Grace an inquisitive look over her shoulder before kneeling on the asphalt. “Jerome’s been hitting their supply lines pretty hard. John may not have noticed, but the cult’s lower classmen are probably feeling it.”A lighter is peeking out of the man’s pocket, with something pale curled around it. 

“I doubt they’d waste an organized attack on a place like this.” She can feel Grace’s eyes on her back, infallibly attentive as they are. “But you don't need direct orders to go out and hunt heathens in your downtime, do you?”

“You think they were scavengers, then?” Grace says. ”Passed through where we just were on their way in, and left that bomb behind as insurance?” 

“Something like that.”

With her index finger and thumb, Nora plucks a paper slip from the man’s pocket, one edge plastered to the denim by crusty brown viscera. Her phone is nearly dead, hasn’t had reception in weeks, but the screen lights up just fine - she pulls it out and shines it on the writing. 

Nora grinds her teeth. “Here.”

Grace grabs the paper and phone both from Nora’s hand as she gets to her feet; twenty three dollars and forty five cents for eggs benedict, coffee and cranberry juice, from a place called Monroe’s Diner Hall. 

“I know this place.” 

“Yeah, me too.” She looks off to the light in the distance, switching her radio off, listening close to the forest’s scattered lulls of silence for whatever they may be concealing. 

Grace seems to understand what she means. “Be on guard.” 

“Always.”

Nora can’t say if she means it as a joke, a lie, or a promise. Not like either of them care, at the moment; the red light in the distance shifts and flickers as they approach through the trees, as if it were a warning signal. There’s no way to move as silently as they’d like to as they edge through the thicket of trees separating the office building from their destination, even for Grace; the land is uneven, the ground dense and uncut. Still, it’s safer than taking the roads. If they find what she expects to find, they’ll be under watch.

The white, jagged end of a snapped-off branch catches Nora’s calf as she passes. It’s so dark she can hardly see two feet in front of her, so she presses on, swallowing hard the pained moan that rises in her throat as it slices straight through denim and into flesh. It’ll be too dark to navigate the forests again by the time they’re done, no matter how quick they are; the roads are the only sane option for a way back. Come hell or highwater, they’ll need safe roads.

Nora imagines the next time the sun will rise on this part of the world. She pictures its dusty splendor spread out over the skyline, crowding the mountains’ silhouettes in shades of pink, blue and gold. She pictures herself slouching out of bed, safe in the cool clutch of the Church’s basement, trudging up the stairs and squinting in the sunlight. She pictures Jerome talking to people he barely knows like he’s an old friend; she pictures beds on the floor and reheating stale coffee. 

And silently, achingly, she lets it go. Takes her ingrained expectation of the arrival of the future and gives it up, puts it away somewhere out of sight where she can pretend it doesn’t exist, like she hasn’t been carrying it with her every second of her entire life. In its absence, all that remains is the dark, and the pain in her calf. A bolt of sharp, frigid panic that comes and goes as a shape darts through the trees some fifteen feet to their left - an animal, or a person who doesn’t want to kill them, hasn’t been told to go out and steal the dawn from those the Father has deemed undeserving of it’s glory. She sets her jaw, resting her gun on her back as the trees begin to thin. 

She is prepared. She is completely alone.

Above them, the light flickers again. It’s been flickering steadily, this whole time - the office building was too far away for them to see anything but the more dramatic lapses in power. MONROE’S , spelled out in huge, electric red letters, the M , R and second O dimming every few seconds before springing back to life like crushed fireflies. The S is flat out dead, the bottom half of its metal stencil blown off entirely. Leaned against the bottom of the signpole is the most likely cause of it’s destruction, a bulky machine gun she can safely guess is empty - it would have to be, assuming its owner didn’t lug an entire hardware store here with them, since long, sharp brass bullets are scattered over every inch of the parking lot, shards of broken glass strewn between them, all of it cast in the harsh white glow of an LED lamp on the steps leading up to the front entrance. 

Seated next to the lamp is a female peggie, sucking down a canned coke as a jittery pitbull struts around at her feet. Inside, Oh John plays on a radio while others go about their business, the song bright and peppy as it nears its final chorus; one standing by the bar fiddling with his pistol, two sat together in a booth. Nora can’t get a good look from here, but there’s at least one more moving around in the kitchen. 

Just on the edge of the woods, a single truck is parked. The two of them creep up in its shadow, settling behind the tires. 

Grace looks at her, and her eyes go wide.

“Oh shit ,” She whispers, rearing back from Nora as if she’s discovered a snake. It takes her a second to see what she sees, but when she does, she almost swallows her tongue; not a snake, but another peggie, laid down in the bed of the truck underneath a mounted gun, the back of his head no more than two feet away from Nora’s face. He’s too close for a clear shot with the shotgun, and his friends would notice that anyways, so wordlessly, she takes the knife from her boot and cranes her arms over the side of the truck. The hair atop his head crunches in her grip, thick and dry, a short exclamation of surprise cut off by hideous choking as she drives the blade through his beard and into his throat.

She twists. Blood pours out over her hand as if from a faucet, hot and wet and endless. “Sorry.”  Nora grits out before she can stop herself, shuddering with disgust. His legs kick, his hands flailing out behind him; by no means is this the worst way a person can be killed around here, but still, it sounds like a gurgling sink. Eventually, the heel of his boot falls to the floor of the truck with a much-too-loud thunk ,  and she holds her breath, watching the peggie on the stairs. 

They take the can from their lips, and look off into the distance. Down the road. Not in their direction.

The sigh Nora lets out almost masks the wet squelch of her knife withdrawing from flesh. She wipes either side on her thigh, then shoves it back in her boot, rubbing her palm on her knee until it feels more or less dry. 

“Guess that’s why you don’t sleep on the job.” Grace breathes. She looks impressed, if a touch ashamed. “Good catch.”

When did Nora’s mouth get so dry? “Thanks.” 

Grace slinks down into the grass just below the bumper, low on her knees with the muzzle of her rifle inched up over the road. Nora crouches beside her, leaning over to peek past the grille; it’s far from an ideal position, but Grace doesn’t seem like she’s gearing up to do this quietly anyways. She swings the shotgun off her back, hand finding the forend. 

“Hold up.” Grace whispers tonelessly, the way she always speaks when she’s shooting. “Let me get rid of this one first.”

Nora watches her incline the muzzle towards the woman on the steps, the glinting iris of her right eye aligned with the scope.

“Might be safer to go in through the back.” She suggests before it’s too late. That must’ve been how they got in - the windows were broken from the inside, judging by the glass on the ground.

“And get there how? We’re in position. I’m taking the shot.” 

“Well.” Nora quirks her head to one side. “Go get ‘em, champ.”

Grace snorts, as soft as can be; even when her shoulders shake, her hands don’t slip, knuckles in stark relief under the skin. “Yeah. Just watch.”

The muzzle tilts up, barely a centimeter. “I’ll show you a fucking champ .” 

Her forefinger curls. The air splits, shattered by a self contained explosion; Nora hopes she gets used to that soon. The woman on the steps slams headfirst into the wall to her left, a cloud of pink mist lingering in the air where her skull had been. The dog loses its mind, tossing its little body to and fro around it’s owner as she slumps to the pavement, and inside, commotion erupts, Grace firing again before anyone can get their bearings.

The bullet misses the dog by a foot- so fucking cocky , a shot at a flailing animal is never a sure thing - but hits the peggie by the bar in the thigh. He drops, but doesn’t scream, likely the most seasoned among them.

Nora racks her gun, tromping up into the road ahead of Grace. Him first, then.

The dog notices her before the humans can look twice, and bounds over in her direction, barking like its fur is on fire. Okay, maybe him second. She pulls up her elbows and lets one off, striking it clean in the top of its head. Three bullets flash by her torso, their sender looking down on her from behind the empty window of a booth, gun in hand. Fear fills the moment before Grace shoots straight at the barrel, and there’s that scream, erupting into the air between the gunshots and barked orders. Whoever it was, they’re hit in the hand, flesh broken apart but still very much alive; the man next to them comes out of his cover to help, and Nora shoots him in the chest. 

She chambers two more slugs, shards of glass crunching under her gloves as she grabs hold of the windowsill, hoisting herself up high enough to swing a leg over. She lands on her knees atop a table, the man she shot lying dead in the seat beside her. There’s a woman with shaggy black hair on the floor, trying to get herself on her feet and get her gun with just her left hand. Nora aims the barrel of hers down, and there are two shouted waits before a red sinkhole opens up in her chest. 

The last thing she hears before her hearing stops entirely is a grunt, a bullet speeding past her head so close that the air it displaces brushes her lips. “Fuck!” She feels her mouth form the word, hard and sharp. On the floor by the entrance, a man is on his chest, bleeding like a stuck pig but still conscious enough to hold his revolver. 

See, that’s why he was supposed to be first. She only has one slug left - three shots from someone outside miss both her and the peggie on the floor, one shattering the face of a clock on the wall. “Deputy!” She hears faintly as she hops off the tabletop, her ears coming back online. “Deputy! Kingston!”

Her last slug hits the floor under his head. His thumb circles the revolver chamber, arm raised. 

So Nora darts over to him, and swings.

A bullet strikes the ceiling just as the stock of her shotgun comes careening down onto his shoulder. His revolver clatters to the floor, and she kicks it under a table, bringing up the stock again to slam it across his cheek, a thin spurt of blood escaping his lips. 

The man sways and shudders, his forearm rising a few inches off the floor before falling right back down again. Nora doesn’t stay to watch, two casings falling out and bouncing off his leg as she reloads. A “closed” sign flies around on its tack as she kicks the door open in front of her, shotgun up as she scans the parking lot. 

The coke drinker lies still at the foot of the stairs, her dead pet sprawled out in the street. Past that, on the edge of the road, the green of Grace’s fatigues catches her eye; she’s on the ground, entangled with a man in a tank top, a baseball bat rolling around nearby. 

She’s got one hand on his throat, another on the gun clutched in his fist; Nora could probably just watch if she wanted, but she’d rather not drag this out. She shoots him in the side of the chest, closer to Grace than she’s comfortable with; he falls limp next to her, corpse jolting as she shoves it further away. 

There’s silence all of a sudden, offset by the crickets chirping in the treeline, the rapid beating of her heart, and Grace, coughing as she tugs down her vest.

“You okay?“ Grace barks, flat on her back with her knees bent like it’s any other summer night and she’s stargazing in an empty lot. “I heard you scream.”

“I’m fine.” Nora huffs, a smile cracking through the fixed grimace on her face. “White uniforms sure do suck, huh?” 

Grace scoffs. “They do make things easier for us.” 

Nora extends a hand to let her pull herself up off the ground by it. There are little chunks of broken glass stuck to her pants and sleeves, and a big one stuck in the fabric over her upper breast. Grace swipes it off, and it falls to the ground with a little chink , one corner still slick with blood. 

“Don’t relax just yet.” She says, leaning down to pick up her gun. “That one came around from the back. There could be others.” 

Objectively, there’s nothing too frightening about what she says, so it’s odd that her heart sinks the way it does. She takes a deep breath around the fear, sliding in another slug. They’ve done this a million times.

(Four times, actually. But that’s much better than nothing.)

She follows Grace to the entrance, gun level with her shoulders. At the foot of the stairs, the coke can is still draining fizzy brown liquid; she hadn’t noticed it before. 

Inside, the corpse of the man with the revolver is taking up space in the middle of the tiled floor. Grace kicks him out of the way, a long smear of blood left in his wake that she passes through without hesitation.

“Watch your step.” She says. Nora walks in the imprints her boots leave, like she’s following tracks in the snow. The blood is thick and bubbly, easy enough to slip in, but she can’t give her footing her full attention while staring off into the dimly lit kitchen, scrutinizing all the metal angles of old machinery, their endless buzz blurring the line between silence and danger. 

Grace gives the space behind the bar a once over, then turns to check the last row of booths. Nora inches ahead of her, trying to breathe deeply and silently at the same time. She leans into the expo area, the white shards of broken plates, varying greatly in size, scattered on every surface she can see. She takes a few cautious steps, nudging open the door to a tall fridge against the wall with her boot; it’s all plastic bins and aluminum foil, so she shuts it again. As she makes for the kitchen itself, Grace appears behind her. 

“I’ll go right, you go left.”   

Nora nods. The bruise on her shoulder is killing her as the butt of her gun presses up against it; she gnaws her lip as a distraction, before realizing that if something surprises her she could bite off a chunk of flesh. 

Maybe it’s because there was a time when she would run around El Gran Acantilado ’s expansive kitchen after hours, crawling under utility carts and searching for loose sweets. Two decades down the line and the memories seem perfect, the searing heat of Nevada sun and the stale smell of old carpet and lemon cascade - even still, the hotel her mother managed couldn’t have been as big as she recalls, considering she’s about thrice as tall now as she was then. It tugs at her nerves, knowing just how many places there are to hide in a well equipped kitchen, all the empty spaces and hard objects and huge knives. 

One of the overhead lights in the kitchen is blown, but a freezer with glass doors keeps it lit well enough, lined up milk cartons and plastic pails inside. A sink is still full of dirty dishes, spatulas and tongs sticking out from the surface of the pink tinted water along with what looks like the end of a billy club. A jacket stenciled with the Eden’s Gate symbol hangs from a peg on the back wall, a faint metallic hum cutting above the din from somewhere around it; a generator, maybe a speaker.

Seamlessly, Nora stops breathing as she turns a corner, coming upon a short nook. There’s an icebox, a mop and bucket, a rubber mat, and a backdoor. One hand leaves the trigger to grab the doorknob, but when she turns, it doesn’t budge; she doesn’t feel a lock, either. She rears back one foot and knocks it open, the shockwave reverberating up her leg, irritating the scratch on her calf.

Behind the restaurant is cold air, the reek of stale cigarette smoke, and another corpse. 

They lay face down on the asphalt a couple meters off from the door, the left side of their skull hollowed out and gory. On the ground near their left hand is a silenced pistol; just beside the other, a small silver key.

From the top of a short set of stairs, Nora looks about, peeking beyond the dumpster to see if anyone’s crouched down there. When she’s satisfied, she tromps down onto the pavement, swipes the pistol up, resets the safety and shoves it through a hoop of her belt. She goes back inside as quickly as possible, struck by the image of herself as viewed from far away through the scope of some sniper hidden in the surrounding trees. 

“What’d you do that for?” Grace shouts from the other end of the kitchen. 

“They locked the back door from the outside.” Nora barks. It’s hanging on its hinges, wooden splinters sticking out around the handle; she drags it shut anyways, ignoring how it continues to sway after she lets go. As the tension of the night starts to drain away, that electric hum catches her ear again - it’s a low, even buzz, clearer from where she’s standing. 

The broad white lid of the icebox is tilted up, less than an inch. Nora blinks, and presses down, a soft puff of air escaping as the plastic seal along the rim closes along with something else - a short, shuddery breath, separate from the sounds of the machine, like it came from a living creature. 

Nora’s hand stutters away, and instantly, the lid pops back up. She shoulders her gun, leaning sideways to glance past the corner, where Grace is down on one knee, rifling through something on the floor underneath a countertop. 

“Grace?” 

“Yeah?” She calls back cooly. Nothing in her voice indicates that she’d been trying to get her attention.

In one swift motion, Nora takes the handle and swings it open. 

Part of her expects to see a small child, maybe another dog with an injured leg or a newborn litter. For a second, she does think she’s found a child, until she notices the hairy calves and broad shoulders and realizes what she’s actually found is a woman. Curled up in a tight, tense ball atop bags of ice and frozen vegetables, her hair is shaved down to a dark stubble, her eyes coppery brown and blown wide as she peers up at her. She wears the same burlap shirtdress that most of the peggies wear, clutching her knees to her chest. Shavings of ice dust her shoulder and thigh, that Eden’s Gate smell of limewash paint and body grime clinging to her even in the cold. 

She doesn’t move, blink, or scream. The silent, steady rise and fall of her chest is the only indication that she’s alive.

After the shock dissipates, Nora spends one long moment just watching her, waiting to see if she says something or tries to get up or what have you. Her spare hand rests on the gun in her belt, the thought crossing her mind to remove the safety before she realizes that the sound might spook her.

She looks about hastily to see if Grace or anyone else is about to come up and escalate things, a near inaudible “god” escaping her mouth. The woman only shudders, peering up at her like a paralyzed squirrel, gaze alert but empty, as if she can’t process anything but her own fear. 

She thrums her fingers over the top of the lid, straightening her arm to keep it from falling. There’s a low, swallowed whimper from inside - Nora really should say I’m not going to kill you at some point, or just get it over with. 

“That looks uncomfortable.” Is what comes out.

No answer. It’s okay. I’m uncomfortable too.

“Come on, get out.” Nora says. Her arm is getting tired. The woman’s mouth convulses, her lips drained of color; Nora wouldn’t be surprised if she laid an egg. 

“Get out. I’m not gonna kill you.” Definitely not in there, at least. Those look like good vegetables. 

Grace drops whatever she’d been fiddling with, emerging from the other end of the kitchen.

“I hope you found something worth taking, cus-“ She stops short as Nora raises her free hand, mouthing a ‘what.’ 

Nora nods in the direction of the icebox, prompting Grace to edge cautiously around the corner.

“Jesus Fucking Christ .” Is her immediate response. The woman in the box sucks in air, like she’s trying not to drown. Grace scoffs. “They’re like termites.”

She raises her rifle, hand on the trigger like she means to kill her right there; Nora shakes her head.

“Hold up!”

“Why?” Grace asks. 

She doesn’t actually know how to answer, so she just says it again. “Gimme a second. I wanna see what’s up.”

“What’s up ?” Grace repeats incredulously. She looks vaguely amused. 

As if in answer, the woman in the icebox has begun to pray, her eyes shining with tears.

“….whenever the ark set out Moses said “Arise O Lord and let your enemies be scattered…”

Grace snorts, giving Nora a look like she just told a bad joke. She tosses her head and sucks her teeth in response, reaching in to grab the woman by the upper arm. She tenses up so tight Nora almost thinks she’s going to attack her, her prayers increasing in volume with the shock and fright.

“…let those who hate you…flee before you..”

No attack comes, even as she hauls her up and throws her to the floor. 

“I said get out!” Nora barks, Law & Order voice in full effect. She lands on her backside, gathering herself like she means to stand up, until her eyes find Grace’s face, her expression as hard as an Olmec head, and she stills, cowering on the floor.

“Hop in the wrong truck tonight, friend?” Grace drawls, cocking her rifle. “Where did you and your platoon come from?”

Nora doesn’t comment, examining the girl anew in the improved light - and she is a girl , twenty one at the absolute most, she realizes now. Her skin is the color of sand, her lips wide with a strong, quivering cupid’s bow; Nora can’t quite tell what she is, but she doubts she’s entirely white. Clusters of acne crowd each other on her cheeks and chin, thick dark rings discoloring the base of her neck; she looks as unwashed and untended as all the other female peggies, except for her eyebrows, which are plucked to sparse curves of hair. 

Wonder how she got away with that . Eden’s Gate is always raging against vanity. The girl gasps sharply as Grace nudges the barrel of her rifle against her shoulder, scrambling back a foot or so on her hands and the balls of her feet.

“Speak up!” Grace barks. Nora takes a step forward, falling into a squat between them; she really needs to get out of this habit, of starting a situation then immediately losing control of it. 

“What’s your name.” She asks flatly. The girl meets her gaze, but only for a moment; the silver suppressor of her shotgun keeps drawing her attention where it hangs on her back.

“We can’t talk if I don’t know what to call you.” And there’s only one thing we can do besides talk.

No dice, but her throat does spasm slightly. 

“Always so good at following orders.” Grace growls behind them. “We’re wasting time, Kingston, shoot this bitch before I do.” 

She shrinks back from Grace’s looming frame, a malformed no bubbling up to her lips; Nora shoots her a cool it look over her shoulder, and continues as if she hadn’t said anything.

“Where’re you from?” 

She doesn’t seem to hear her. Her eyes are still on Grace. 

“Huh?”

“Silverton.” The girl forces out, her voice a low croak, fisting the fabric of her shirt with one hand. “Colorado.” 

Nora nods. A long way from home. 

Outside in the backlot, tree branches are swaying, and the corpse on the ground is draining blood. Where she’s sitting on the floor, the girl is visible through the doorway, Nora realizes; anyone hiding in the forest with a gun would be able to shoot her, and only her.

Would they do that to one of their own? Maybe, if they thought she was about to get captured. Nora has no intention of taking her back to Fall’s End with them, but only she knows that. 

“Who told you to come here?” She asks. No leading questions.

“Nobody.” The answer comes so fast Nora barely understands her. “Nobody, we answer to-” She scrubs one hand over her quivering chin, keeping the words in.

Oh, it’s too late for that. “What was that last part?” Nora asks. “Who do you answer to?”

“Nobody!” 

“Nobody? Them again?” She says, so clearly she knows her teeth are showing. “It’s starting to sound like you’re making this up.” 

“I can’t tell you!” The girl shouts finally, legs kicking out until she’s pushed herself a full foot back from her. “I can’t tell you anything, not my name or- what do you want me to do? ” Her feet came much too close to Nora’s shins for her liking, but she can’t bring herself to make a fuss about it - she was cruel, with that last question. She should know better than that.

“How many of you came down here tonight?” They might as well have met at a concert, the way Nora phrases it. She must be about concertgoing age, right? About twenty? That was how old Nora was when she started going to concerts; it’s how old she was when she shaved her head for the first time, too, cropped it down to that thin, dark stubble this one is sporting so awkwardly.

“Sev…” She looks off to the floor for a second. “Eight. But Laura left, I think. Maybe she came back, I didn’t see, but she left before you guys showed up, so it’s not like she was going to get-”

" Alright .” Nora says decisively. “Which way did, uh, Laura go? Where was she headed?” Which way will she be coming back? The girl might not answer, if Nora makes her reasoning too clear. It’s a fine line to walk, between simple and confusing . 

“I didn’t hear her say. But she was fighting with Tommy.” There’s another hard convulsion in her throat again, and for a moment her terrified eyes on Nora’s face change, like she’s seeing her as someone else. “They always fight. I think she just went back to the Truck Stop, since she knows how to find a bike and everything.” By the time she finishes speaking, her voice is a whole octave lower. 

Nora decides not to begrudge her the distaste. One of us just shot Tommy, after all. She gnaws her inner lip; none of the crooks in her clothes suggest hidden weapons or transmitters, and she doesn’t know how many gunfights she’s got left in her. 

“Go home.” She says finally. On the edge of her vision, she sees Grace bristle; the girl’s face blooms from fear into disbelief. “ Don’t try to take the truck, that’s ours now.” To be stripped and used for parts; she probably doesn’t have the keys, anyways. “Just… walk the way you came. You might not run into trouble, if you get out before sunrise.”

The girl drags her feet under her body and springs up, a tadpole with fresh grown legs. When she’s out the door, she comes to a stuttering halt with one boot on the last step, head turning this way and that until it finds its way back to Nora.

“Thank you.” She forces out. She sounds like she’s been drowning, like her head just broke water for the first time in too long. “Thank you both.’

“Don’t act like I was a part of this.” Grace commands. It’s a dig, yeah, but she means it; she has a reputation to uphold. 

The girl says nothing more. The girl runs. 

When the two of them are alone again, Grace slings her rifle, lips pressed to a tight, hard line. 

“That was stupid.” 

Nora huffs, drawing herself back up to full height.

“Why?” 

“Because she could bring back reinforcements.” Grace says. “Because she could tell them we let her go, and they could start faking surrenders. Perfidy’s what we call that.” She looks her square in the face, half a challenge and half a reproach; she doesn’t even look angry. “Or, she could just get blown to pieces as soon as she tries to get back over the bridge in that loud ass uniform, just like you said. I understand not wanting to kill her, Nora, but you can’t make that everyone’s problem.”

Nora’s face falls. That would be bad. “Eden’s Gate doesn’t appreciate cowardice. I doubt she’ll go around bragging about it.” She says, resisting the urge to just shrug and apologize. “I figured if she can get back to peggie territory in one piece, she’s earned her freedom.” 

“That’s one way to look at it.” Grace says, but she doesn’t sound convinced. “I wouldn’t get into the habit of focusing on the question of earned , though. A lot of people here don’t deserve to die.”

“….and we’ll have to kill most of them anyways. I remember.” Nora finishes for her. The closing line of Jerome’s latest ad hoc morale sermon; it raised a few eyebrows in the crowd, but she thought she understood it well enough. 

Grace certainly did. That iron will of hers has never once faltered, never in front of Nora at least, ignoring the thick streak of blood oozing down the breast of her jacket even now.

“We should probably clean  that.” She says. The hot liquid has cooled to a sludge, by the looks of it - is she really ignoring it, or did she just forget it was there? 

Grace looks down at her own chest. “Yeah, probably.” She says, scrunching her nose. “What even was this one?”

“Broken glass in the parking lot.”

She hums. “It didn’t feel that big.”

When her head turns up again, she studies the facade of Nora’s face, her expression as blank as she can make it when she’s searching for… uncertainty, Nora supposes, that would be the best guest. Uncertainty in the decision, in her own ability to make it. Whatever Grace sees, it must satisfy her, because she turns on her heels, marching back to the front of house. 

“There’s a first aid kit under the bar.” She says over her shoulder; Nora swallows a mouthful of saliva. A cloud of cold air brushes her shoulder, colder than the breeze from outside. The lid of the icebox is still open, thrown back on its hinges when she pulled the girl out.

She could almost laugh. 

When she goes to close it and spies a tiny, black Smith & Wesson 36 tucked between two bags of frozen meat, right where the girl’s body had been lying, she does. 

“What happened?” Grace asks as Nora struts out of the kitchen. She’s settled on a short stack of milk crates in the expo area, the first aid kit retrieved and left on a counter next to her, all the pieces of broken plate swept onto the floor. It’s a good place to rest; not as exposed as the dining room with all its broken windows, but with a view of the outside through the expo window. Her vest is on the ground in front of her, her rifle laid out within reach on a cutting board like an expensive slab of steak. 

“Hmm?” Nora asks. She sounds too innocent even to her own ears. There’s a utility sink by the doorway; her left palm is mostly clean, but the back of it is crusted with dry gore. She takes two pumps of viscous pink soap and washes her hands under warm water, drawing back as soon as it gets too hot. 

“I heard you laugh.” 

“Oh.” She says, far more mellowly, and huffs, smiling. “Nothing, I.. spotted two flies going at it on the wall.” 

Grace hums. “At least someone had fun tonight.” 

Nora decides not to comment, drying her hands on her front and undoing the latches on the first aid kit.

“You wanna take off your shirt?” She asks as she picks through it; better to ask now, while she’s got a reason not to look at her when she says it. She finds the needle first, and a bottle of bactine, setting them both aside; Grace complies without question, rolling her shoulders as she discards her jacket and scarf and sets to work on the buttons. 

A silver spool of black thread is sequestered away under a roll of bandages, a little pair of forceps beside it. She pushes it through the needle, turning with the tools in hand.

“Okay!” She says. Grace has to drag her head up to look at her, shoulders slumped like she’s just let down a heavy load; you can’t tell how narrow they really are until she takes off all the padding, can you. The ribbed fabric of her bra is the kind of grainy gray-brown which implies it was white when she bought it. Her elbows are white, now, they’re so ashy.

Nora wets her lips. “Okay.”

“I can sew it up myself, if you need.” She says. Under the rim of her cap, the black lines on her cheeks are beginning to sweat.

“No, it's fine. I’ve done this before.” Once on herself, and once on a training dummy. Nora rests the tools on the counter right next to Grace, retrieving a plastic cup from a drying tray to fill a third of the way up with water. She rips off three napkins from a roll and goes to one knee in front of her, and Grace leans back on her palms without prompting.

An inch from the left strap of her bra is the gash; short but fat, and still shiny with blood. Delicately, Nora nudges it off her shoulder, raising the cup a short bit above her to pour a flash of liquid on the wound.

The film of dried blood beneath the wound begins to stream. Nora presses her free hand against the body of her breast to catch it with the folded napkins, making the gash stretch a little against the surrounding flesh. 

Grace doesn’t react. Nora says “sorry” anyways.

The light is good in the expo area; the task would be significantly harder if it weren’t. Gently, she punctures the red line where the cut entered the skin, pulling just enough thread through before making a loop on the other end of the length with the forceps.

She tugs a knot, blood welling up in the wound at the irritation, and Grace’s hands curl into fists. Her chest is as still as a cornerstone.

This is a good time to talk, right? As long as she doesn’t get distracted, and have to pull loose a piece of thread from Grace’s flesh? As if she doesn’t probably have her doubts about Nora already? 

Sure it is. “When I saw that receipt, I thought we’d come here and find three drunk peggies making pancakes.” 

Grace hums, chin pressed to her chest so she can watch the proceedings. Tunnel vision is second nature for her, Nora has picked up on that by now, but her eyes are glassy, the silver flash of the needle reflected in the irises. 

“Shit happens.” She intones. “ Always happens. Usually in the last place you’d expect it to.”

“Well, sure, but that’s no reason not to try.” A minuscule sliver of glass is clinging to the edge of Grace’s cut; she purses her lips and blows it away, then gets back to work. 

“You killed five people today. You want to tell me that was you not trying?” 

Nora perks up. “I mean that’s no reason not to try to do better.” She realizes she’s not being clear enough as soon as she says it - “ Plan better. I know I’ll need to make a judgment call sometimes, but shouldn’t we be trying to avoid getting into fights we can’t control?” 

“Keep going.” 

It’s only then that Nora realizes she stopped sewing. She focuses in on the red cut, fingers spread out around it like a spider; she can’t tell if Grace thinks it’s naive or not, and as long as she’s not looking at her face, she doesn’t have to wonder.

“Here.” Grace says, raising one hand to nudge Nora's hand away so she can position the wound herself. With her index finger and thumb, she pulls the flesh taut, just enough to set a straight line to sew through, but not to pop the stitches. 

She pushes the needle back in, falling silent. 

“You’re on the right track.” Grace says plainly, her voice straining a touch as Nora pulls another stitch; the next to last. “My supervisor used to think like that, trying to plan out every step of an operation before it started.” She considers her words as Nora makes another loop of black thread.

Whatever she was going to carry on with is cut off by a swipe of the needle. The final knot is closed, three inches of excess thread drooping down onto her breast, brushing her areola. Nora takes it between her pointer finger and thumb, going for her knife only to feel the thick film of dried blood on the handle, and lets it go. There’s a magnetized bar on the wall for hanging knives, but the peggies took those, because of course they did.

“Ahh…” She spies a steak knife on the floor under the sink, coated in dust; she’d rather not bust out the scrub brush right now, but she doesn’t see anything sharp that’s also clean. 

Just before she can stand up, Grace notices the dilemma. “What, there weren’t any scissors?” 

“Someone must’ve taken them out.” There’s a lot of uses for a little pair of scissors, she thinks, recalling the girl in the icebox, her face filthy, but well-groomed. 

Grace gives the smallest of sighs. “Fuck it, use your nails. Or your teeth, if they’re too short.”'

Nora hasn’t let her nails get long since all this started. As gently as she can, she tugs the string upwards, marking a point in her mind just above the bulb of the knot and leaning forward into Grace’s torso. 

Lips pulled back from her teeth, her eyes slide shut on impulse; she wasn’t sure if she should open or close them. When she feels the string between her front teeth, she presses until it snaps, ignoring the urge to shudder as her nose brushes the soft, loose skin of Grace’s breast. 

She can’t ignore the hairs that stand up on the back of her neck, though. Or the smell of kevlar, copper and sweet, damp sweat stuck on Grace’s skin. She plucks the excess thread from her mouth and tosses it to the floor, rising to her feet without a word, eyes on the floor - and god, Nora wishes there was a casual way to say “look, I’m not a coward, I swear, I'm only like this around you,” but she can’t think of one. Then again, Grace’s poker face is legendary, so who knows. Maybe she felt that too. 

“That should do it.” 

Grace pokes at the line of stitches with one hand, pulling her shirt back on with the other. “These are good. Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” Nora says, closing the first aid kit’s lid with a solid click . She doesn’t smile, not with all these dead bodies around to watch, but when she breathes in, her ribs feel a bit less tight. 

There’s a half eaten bag of bison jerky in one of the fridges, and Nora scarfs them down while Grace goes outside to signal for help. With the shooting finished, you can hear the susurration of the slumbering forest, smell the dry wood and river moss, the ever present smoke of burning crops. She folds the empty plastic package in half, watching the electric blue streak of a flare shoot up into the night sky through an empty window frame. Memories float through her mind - picking at scabbed over mosquito bites past midnight on Laurent’s expansive porch, dumping cool ash into a trash can atop rib bones and cigarette butts in her aunt’s Florida backyard - but the flare disrupts the flow of them. Nora’s never seen anything like it in her old life, before all this; fireworks don’t burn on their way up, rattlesnakes don’t hiss as fast as the gun. 

Grace strides back in, though, in her vest and fatigues, and as much as Nora wants to think she can do this herself, it is always comforting to have someone to assure her of the not-strangeness of war. 

“When we get back to Fall’s End, I’m gonna go get the car from where we left it.” She says. It’s a reliable vehicle, outdated or not. “You can come with me, if you’re up for it. It’s not a long walk.”

“Can’t.” Grace has wiped the bleeding paint from her cheeks; the residue gives her an ashen look, like she’s just walked from a burning house. “The Rail Yard got swarmed tonight. Merle Briggs is going down to help, he’s gonna swing by the bar, pick me up.” She says, shoving the flare gun into her back pocket. The motion requires her to stretch the line of stitches; her arm quavers a bit when it straightens, but somehow, her hand stays still. “Ask Jerome to go with you. The roads are hot tonight.”

We killed seven people tonight.  “They radioed for help?” Nora asks; how would she have missed that? 

“The call went out when we were in the woods. They’re just cleaning up loose ends by now.” Grace waves a hand, those eyes that are so precious to her shutting to accentuate the gesture. “Go get the car, get some sleep.” She strides past Nora, back into the kitchen, rifle coming off her back in a motion as fluid as a machine. “Call me paranoid, but I’m gonna check inside the dumpsters before we go. I had a peggie leave a time bomb in there under a trashbag, once.” She snorts. “Maybe our friend from Colorado is curled up there.” 

The sentiment would be easier to accept if she intended to take Grace’s advice, but she knows she won’t go right to bed; she’ll help Jerome with the building or join Casey’s Molotov assembly line. She won’t be able to sleep at all, if she doesn’t. 

“You coming?” Grace calls out. In the distance, she can hear the loose door hinges creak as she goes outside. Her gun sits leaned against the back of the bar, the metal cylinder of the silencer like the handle of a divining rod. 

“Yeah.” Nora says. “Gimme a second. I’ll come.”

#grace armstrong #far cry 5 #far cry 5 fic #deputy nora kingston #Grace Armstrong x female deputy