#wtrss

[brutlist]

it's refreshing to watch her while she works --- it's congested here in this little hole in the wall , the white noise of the overhead conversations' thrum just enough to be felt in the fingertips sparse of breathing room , and warm with bodies --- @wtrss is in her element . isn't she always ? when they make eye contact , heugh finds himself warm in the belly . he smiles . it's good to see her .

#wtrss #wtrss . 001 #paige my beloved

[kasling]

Stay with me. I do not want to sleep alone. @wtrss.

ㅤPaige's words disarm him, but Roland's attention doesn't stray from the window. New York has changed since his footsteps last fell upon its flat, hard ground. Cities rise and fall across the worlds, he thinks, levelled by might and meekness both, but this city only grows—silver buildings ever sprout from stiff grey soil, unending life packed into a space so small. Blue eyes stay tilted upwards, unerring in their attention, his gaze bound to the darkening sky. The orange blaze of evening is dying, a swathe of black encroaching across the light. Roland will watch the sky until the light returns.

ㅤ"I won't leave you alone, Paige."

ㅤThe Gunslinger's gaze moves to her. New York, he is sure, is a starless city—perhaps they've vanished, he briefly worries—but it is not a moonless one. Carried upon that dark black cloak, a pale disc is strung, and the moonlight slants into their shared room. Paige wears moonlight well. The pearly light sits sweetly upon her features, paints her impossibly gentle. Roland longs to join her in the moonlight, but settles for pulling a chair to the foot of the bed, eyes trained on the window, his body turned towards Paige.

ㅤ"I'll be right here. You won't be alone." One hand hands beside him, fingertips brushing his sandalwoods grips. The other settles on the bottom of the bed. "I'm searching for stars."

#wtrss #INTERACTIONS. #normal about them. sane about this

[tsareviich]

plots pretty please? <3

-- meme || accepting.

i need to get his general vamp verse written up, but i did see you had a vamp verse, and i think them as long time friends.... or even like running into each other and just being like.... oh you're like me

something in fantasy verse........ i don't know the details but Something.

okay but vasily knowing of her brother bc of his forgeries ( maybe he bought a fake from him? or hired him? ) and runs into her while maybe looking for him.

#wtrss #♕ ┊ answered ┊ ❛ the bigger the crown the heavier the burden ❜

[jaevierpena]

the eight am sun is warming his skin, the streets bustlings with noise and people, his steps assured as he walks toward the little cafe he found three weeks ago now. there was no stumbling around it, no hearing it from a friend but rather seeing it on pictures taken of sicarios he was dying to get his hands on. cautioned against going there by himself, javier chose to show up nearly three times a week, in the morning where he had gathered they wouldn't be here. there was a first theory that he needed to test, see if there was more than coffee and dry pastries making money there.

the door was pushed open, a wink offered as the cute waitress raises her head at the doorbell's noise. his table, the one that he has chosen the first day and that has remained suspiciously empty every time he came since. he sits, always his back to the wall, the opportunity to have everything and everyone in sight, protected by the wall from the windows though he can still see who's passing by and who's going to enter. a quick check of the customers before she arrives, schooling his face into a gentle smile, « hermosa, you look absolutely stunning today, @wtrss. » so maybe he also comes back because the waitress has the kind of face he likes and the kind of mouth that amuses him.

#wtrss #starter. #verse : canon

[goldshadows]

@wtrss / fresh new sc

it's easy to slip in unnoticed when all these people never bother to look down, always keeping their chins up too high. wearing some jewelery she had taken out of her mother's room and dressed in the best dress she owns, she makes her way to the bar. finding a free spot, a hand comes up to put a few bills on the counter. she barely manages to look over it but out of all the people behind the bar, she chooses to address the woman. she seems the nicest of all of them. " i would like a drink, please. "

#wtrss #usually i’m all by myself. / universes‚ jami. #little talks. / conversations‚ jami.

[loneheir]

❛ i never said that i'd play nice ... we both know how this town works ❜ @wtrss ; one liner , closed

#wtrss #v house of cards ; political son #.001 #. interactions ; #<3 bc i adore this verse #and he is STILL refusing corruption just uh-being a stink

[fxckingmoran]

~ @wtrss || a lil starter ~

Hands straighten the front of his suit as he moves into the bar, emanating an air of easy confidence. On a job is probably where Sebastian feels most comfortable. There's a focus. No chance of him getting distracted by whatever the fuck goes on in his head.

Eyes scan the room, fingers unbuttoning his jacket as he moves to sit. She's easy to spot. Your gaze seems to naturally gravitate to her. Paige Adeline Swanson. Her father had been very particular about the brief. Sebastian is to take her out quietly and make it look like an accident. Nothing too fancy. Just the cut and dry standard 'kill my daughter' package.

Hand lifts, expression softening into a grin. "Hiya darlin' - Any chance I could get two whiskies off you? Not fussy, whatever comes to your hand first, I'm waiting on a mate." He's not. However, it's an excuse to ask her to drink with him later when said friend doesn't show up.

#wtrss #;sebastian & paige { wtrss } #;to be added to tracker #//i am EXCITED

[emperire]

❛ is the service always this slow? or are you just avoiding me. ❜ @wtrss

#wtrss #i'd avoid him too

[vipier]

TRIS HAS LOOKED WORSE, BUT HE'S ALSO CERTAINLY LOOKED A LOT BETTER IN HIS TIME, TOO. if he were a better person, maybe he would have skipped showing up here altogether, at least for the time it took to make himself look halfway decent. frankly, if he puts together each step of his reasoning, the end result is almost undeniably selfish. he knows he hasn't shown up at her window for her benefit, but rather for his ; to have a safe place to rest his head, to recover for at least a few days, to see her for a moment even at the risk she might be furious enough at him to turn him away ... and perhaps all encompassing of all of these sensations at once, to be somewhere he actually wants to be.

the vast majority of his life he spends drifting from place to place, on orders or out of necessity, without any particular desire to be in any of those places. he moves because he must, slithering through life from one survival to the next, rudderless, anchorless, his only goal to survive and to keep moving forward through the next stage of his miserable and violent life. he finds his distractions here and there, strange and brief hobbies, individuals who interest him for a day or two before he moves along as though they never existed, a new record to absorb and then pass along in whatever form he chooses in the moment. but time is a void, pulling him in, reminding him day by day that his time grows shorter and that he is in no position to make the most of what he does have. perhaps it would send others into an irretrievable spiral - but tristan has always been a survivor, even during his most dismal and damaged days.

even though he can't feel the heat from inside the apartment, he somehow still feels warm. there remains a light or two on, no doubt to deter other would-be burglars or unwanted guests from slinking inside when nobody's home. for his part, he knows well enough the routines to abide by them. it would be easy enough to slip inside and he's certainly accomplished it enough times that he doubt the act itself would alarm her much. what would alarm her is the state in which he finds himself, although the hood he wears hides his heavy bruising and broken nose well enough - and the gunshot wound he took to the ribs that somehow missed anything vital certainly isn't visible under his jacket, at least not yet. the concussion has subsided, but everything else still feels fresh, uncomfortable, despite the fact that he's certainly had worse. a soft introduction is best - and besides, at least out here, he can smoke until she finds her way home.

he's half-reclined on the steps of the fire escape when the main light flips on inside, further expanding the little pool of light already created by the window. tris exhales a thin line of smoke, listening for the inevitable pause in the rustling inside, then the hurried footsteps to open the window to the outside. with her comes the familiar scent of her apartment, something he's keenly aware should not be as comforting as it is. he's not sure whether to expect scolding, or relief, or some combination of the two - but he receives neither. instead, silence falls between them, only briefly, but enough to pull his chest just a little tighter in a way that he convinces himself must just be the stitches. finally, when she speaks, it's soft, almost baffled, without the edge that he'd expected.

@wtrss sent : do you want to come in ?

❝ uhh ... yeah. ❞ he hesitates not out of indecisiveness, but only out of the closest tristan patel is capable of sheer sheepishness. it isn't fair to spring this on her ; it isn't fair to show up without warning. what is, perhaps, the most unfair is that he already knows he's keeping something from her. whether or not she'll like the news is irrelevant ; it's something he knows he could have told her days ago, if he'd had the resolve to pick up the phone. but tris has rarely taken the path that makes sense when it comes to his emotions.

stubbing out his cigarette, he turns and slides easily through the window, pausing only briefly at the twinge that travels up his side. he can hear her intake of breath when she gets a good look at him and he shakes his head instantly, although he knows it will do nothing to dispel her worry. finally, brow furrowed, he turns to her and pulls the hood away from his face with a frown, reaching out immediately to grasp her arms in a perhaps moot effort to keep her from panic. it's all there, in her eyes, exhausted from work and somewhere between confused and elated by his return, and something about them pulls him in, draws him to press his mouth against her temple as though it were an impulse of some kind, as though his body reacts without his permission.

❝ easy, ❞ he soothes, grip tightening, sparing her the sight by simply holding her there and refusing to pull away. tristan expels a breath, feeling his mind begin to turn in circles as he contemplates exactly how to introduce what he has to say. ❝ it was ... necessary. big sacrifices for big purchases, you know? as it turns out ... ❞ once again, he hesitates, still almost unable to conceptualize the truth of what he's about to admit aloud, ❝ ... freedom is rather expensive. ❞

#wtrss #contract accepted. ( responses ) #trust him to introduce this idea in like the most CASUAL way possible i hate him #anyway i rambled like a lil bitch but i hope you ENJOY <3

[warsrage]

do you need to sit down ? - freya

THE CAPTAIN'S HAND UPON HER RAPIER TREMBLES JUST SLIGHTLY, NEARLY INVISIBLY. she's been in many a fight, naturally, and the shaking arises from the effort expended in battle. now that it's over, now that she's belowdecks, the aftereffects have begun to set in perhaps the most irritating way. with a huff, a quiet gasp for breath she'd lost, freya reaches for a nearby oilcloth, using it to wipe away the residual blood from her blade. she is skilled in combat, to be sure - a necessity, considering her position - but that does not mean she delights in it. she takes what she must in stride, but in such circumstances, it often leaves her shaken regardless. even so, she steadies herself, forcing her grip on the hilt of her sword to tighten enough to slip it back into its sheath.

❝ never mind that. are you all right? ❞ she asks, just a bit breathlessly. hands now free, she brushes a loose auburn curl behind her ear and out of her face, to better examine her passenger. a cursory glance suggests there isn't any significant damage - but she knows well enough to realize that the truth always runs far deeper than what she can see. to take on a civilian passenger through questionable waters had, perhaps, been a poor plan, but miss swanson certainly seems to the captain like someone who ought not to be underestimated, in any case. ❝ bloody hell. pardon my language, but the black flags have never ventured this far south, let alone raided commissioned ships this close to the cape. I suppose you got more than you bargained for with this passage - but at least none of them are left to go gossiping to your father, I suppose. you should let our medic check you. I ... suppose I should let him check me as well. ❞

with that, she allows herself to drop into the closest chair, letting out a sigh that sounds as though it's been burning her lungs for minutes. her fingers grasp her skirts, feeling at a brand new tear straight up the side of her petticoat, and a gasp of a laugh escapes her, one that's half bitter and half amused. ❝ bugger. one of them got my dress. this was one of my favorites, too. insult to injury, I suppose. the liquor is in the top cabinet, if you'd like to stave away the ache before the doctor arrives. ❞

DUSTY TOYBOX.

#wtrss #prompt : freya fairweather. #ic : freya fairweather. #i'm completely in improvisation mode but i feel in my SOUL that these two could be a MOMENT

[tsareviich]

@wtrss : 💍 what you get for waking up in vegas || accepting.

his head hurt is the only thing he could think about as he woke up. he was almost surprised that he was even hungover, usually he can hold his alcohol pretty good. but seems like... last night he couldn't. that was fine. annoying, but nothing he couldn't deal with. he starts to sit up, noticing there's a person next to him. okay. so he hooked up with someone. cool. not the best but nothing he hasn't done before. vasily slips out of bed, careful to not wake up the woman next to him. this is fine.

pants is his next thought. he just needs to find them and then he can slip away and forget this ever happened. hopefully she's too drunk to remember anything and they'll never run into each other again. as he's walking around the room, he notices a ring on her finger. well that's... not great. but that was her spouse's problem. not his. he feels for his wallet, noticing the silver band on his own finger for the first time. surely he wasn't that... oh no. vasily glances back at the woman, a sudden flash of shared 'i dos' flashing through his mind. he curses softly in russian before going over to her and gently nudging her shoulder.

#wtrss #♕ ┊ v. modern ┊ ❛ don't you know that the kids aren't all right? ❜ #i love this for them

[crimewrought]

you snore in your sleep. it’s adorable.   @wtrss.   accepting.

 head swimming, the vague remnants of last night’s rum still lurking in her system, maria’s first thought upon waking is that paige’s place feels more like a forest than it does a home. no less homely for it, though, she thinks through the haze of her mild hangover–––in fact, seeing paige engulfed in her room’s greenery and the thick shafts of light streaming in through the window, there’s something so undeniably lovely about the image that maria doesn’t fight the smile that starts spreading at the sight of it. hangover be damned.

 “   cute while conscious, cute while sleeping. can’t be helped, so i’m told.   ”   the smile is a touch short lived, on account of the awful brightness that assaults her vision–––not so short that she doesn’t manage a quick grin thrown paige’s way, though.   “   you really shouldn’t have slept on the couch, paige. makes you a good host and all, but now i’ve got bad house guest guilt–––and i have much worse guilt to contend with on top of that.   ”   it’s early, stupidly so given the previous night’s antics, but her spirits are high despite the subtle ache feasting on her head; paige and her plants and her morning hair are as good an antidote for maria’s morning struggles as anything, it would seem.   “   you gonna let me make us breakfast to make up for my terrible rudeness, swanson?   ”

#wtrss #𝖛𝖎 . solitude should have wings. interactions. #it is so integral to my wellbeing that you know i'm enamoured with Them and You . #know this . KNOW THIS

[engests]

        HIS BREATH REMAINS SLIGHTLY HEAVY as arms extend over his head to widen his lung capacity.    the hike up the hill would have been easy enough had he not lied about the fact that he was an expert hiker,   with every step he had to hide how heavy he was breathing in order to keep up the façade he set in motion weeks ago to impress Paige.   he made sure to remain behind her most of the hike,   just to save himself from further embarrassment.   it was worth it all in the end however,   as they stood next to each other at the top of the small clearing. 

        THEY HAD MADE IT JUST IN TIME to see the sky slowly change its hue to a softer orange.   the sight of the early sunrise had soothed him completely,   creating this sense of peace over him as he watched in awe.   he was lucky to be sharing this with her and for a moment he hesitates to look over in fear of catching her gaze,   as he glances to the side he sees just how the pastel colors bathe her skin and create a soft glow.   her eyes are shut and she's taking in the warmth of the suns rays and its then he decides to reach out.   he’s unsure how she would react to his movement and hopes that it would be anything other than rejection,    subtly he moves his hand to brush against hers,   drawing her attention just for a second to show her he was offering it with a warm smile behind it. 

@wtrss​ asked:  hand.   hold out a hand for my muse to take.

#wtrss #. ・ ゜ INTERACTIONS ; PAIGE . ✝ . ⊹ #// i thought it would be cuter for luke to be like #// this is the perfect moment to do this #// watching the sun rise together #// luke needs his inhaler tho #// he is desperate

[consultingsister]

starter call  for: @wtrss verse: main arc 

Thank God for the trust fund. Celia would never, no matter how desperate  the situation had become, find herself in a place with sticky tables. Where the beer costs the same as the bus home. Not that Cee knows how much busses or beer costs. No, even on the saddest, loneliest of nights, Cee winds up in a place where the bill would cover most people’s rents. 

She doesn’t drink happy drinks. No pink or yellow cocktails, more sugar than alcohol that only make the hangovers worse. Somewhere in Paris, her grandmother knows she’s drinking alone. She’s already instricting the housemaid to send a fax. Nice girls don’t drink alone. 

Cee reckons it’s been a while since anyone would call her a nice girl. 

She sits with her chin in her hand, elbow propping her up, phone out in front of her. She’s swiping through the dating app; the bouiji version of Tinder which confidently spits out people of the same social class as her. “Wait, wait,” she waves at the passing waitress, holds up her phone. “Would you date him? Or does he give... I’d fuck your best friend if you got a promotion vibes? Do you think that’s in the bone structure? It’s not in the eyes, is it?” 

#wtrss #( v. main | rooting for the anti-hero ) #HELLO HELLO #soz paige you got the drunk sad cee #the Worst version

[sirgal]

          ONE THING IS FOR CERTAIN :  THE KNIGHT AND THE PRINCESS DO NOT AT ALL  GET ALONG.       while he cannot say that he necessarily  regrets  the decision to tag along as her de facto protector   (  because, facing facts, it’s not as though he had much better to do anyway  ) ,   sir galavant has found himself somewhat tried by the woman’s company, most often when it’s   ABUNDANTLY CLEAR   that she endeavors to get under his skin  -  which, usually, seems to be the case.  he isn’t, of course, innocent in all of this ;  on the contrary, the more self-aware part of him knows he cannot hold his tongue.   ❝   princess,   ❞   he begins on a long-suffering sigh,   ❝   whatever the great crisis,   SURELY   it can wait until I can see the bottom of my ale.   ❞       /       @wtrss​.  sc.

#wtrss #* wtrss 002. #oh my god truly i would like to STAB him. in the nuts.