Idk I Love The Opposites Attract Trope For Violet Bc I Am A Trash Human Being. And I'm Sorry About It.

grabbing you by the throat

random asks. ୨୧ always accepting

are you flirting with me? /j 

hey angel! <3 <3 <3

So to celebrate me getting out of the hospital mom is taking me to see Moulin Rouge on Broadway today. I am nervous about being outside and active around people all day. I'm worried about getting sick while we're out. But I'll be mobile for awhile and on the bus, feel free to message me! Wish me luck!

୨୧╼ plotting call. who wants to to plot and talk while i am in waiting rooms and stuff? i could use the company. having a rough day of it.

୨୧╼ A life on the run for crimes she did not commit – was nothing new for Violet. But the disastrous events that occurred in Metropolis had left Violet truly on her own. Before she could often rely on the strengths of her siblings and the love of Beatrice. Now she felt adrift in the wind. For now, she found a home in the less than savory part of Gotham.       Another night spent at some dodgy bar. Where Violet would hope to drown her plentiful sorrows in a whiskey neat. At first, she paid no mind to the person who sat next to her. It was only when she heard the familiar voice of her one-time lawyer, that she turned her head. Many things had changed in both their lives, how strange it would both lead them to the same point.      Worry filled Violet that she may be recognized. That it may be the end of her life as a free woman. Nervously she turned her face to him. Though he had been an ally once, that did not mean he still was. “It has been sometime Mr. Dent.” Her chestnut eyes darted from him to the door.

@halfdent ୨୧ starter call. 

it is 10 am and i've already been to two doctors and have two more to go. send help plz. ;-;

📚     𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐙 𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐖𝐒𝐊𝐈'𝐒 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐒 (𝟐𝟎𝟎𝟎) 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒               ↳ change pronouns / details as necessary.

❛  this is not for you.  ❜ ❛  i still get nightmares.  ❜ ❛  sleep’s been stalking me for as long as i can remember.  ❜ ❛  i don’t want to end up like that.  ❜ ❛  i should have known something was up.  ❜ ❛  mostly though, they just vanished.  ❜ ❛  what did i know then ?  what do i know now ?  ❜ ❛  i have never read for more than an hour.  ❜ ❛  i haven’t even washed the blood off yet.  ❜ ❛  there’s no doubt i am responsible for plenty.  ❜ ❛  you’ll suddenly realize things are not how you perceived them to be at all.  ❜ ❛  and then the nightmares will begin.  ❜ ❛  i’m just trying to help you out here.  ❜ ❛  i had to think fast.  ❜ ❛  i didn’t mean to wander into all of this.  ❜ ❛  now there’s an admission, eh ?  ❜ ❛  last night i wasn’t sleeping very well.  ❜ ❛  we all create stories to protect ourselves.  ❜ ❛  what can i say ?   i’m a sucker for abandoned stuff.  ❜ ❛  i guess the complicated one i don’t feel like getting into.  ❜ ❛  i didn’t feel at all myself.  ❜ ❛  i can’t do a fucking thing.  ❜ ❛  but i’m still having problems breathing.  ❜ ❛  i should have stayed near people.  ❜ ❛  you won’t have time to even scream.  ❜ ❛  i actually thought i was going to fall.  ❜ ❛  it made me real uneasy, like i was surrounded by ghosts.  ❜ ❛  do you believe in ghosts ?  ❜ ❛  i think i still feel guilty.  ❜ ❛  but who am i kidding ?  ❜ ❛  i am alone in hostile territories and have no idea how they are hostile.  ❜ ❛  right now going to hell seems like a pretty sound bet.  ❜ ❛  i knew i’d failed.  ❜ ❛  i’ve been waiting for this chance for a while.  ❜ ❛  like i already said, drives me nuts.  ❜ ❛  hey asshole.  ❜ ❛  this shit’s getting ridiculous.  ❜ ❛  i’ll remember what i’d hoped to say in the first place.  ❜ ❛  i have no way of knowing that for certain.  ❜ ❛  i don’t have long.  ❜

୨୧╼ Against the dreariness of the abandoned industrial background, Violet stood out. The way she held herself was filled with pose and grace akin to one of Degas’ ballerinas. She was dressed immaculately in a style defined as modern retro. Yet if one had a keen eye, they could catch that the ribbon that held up her hair had survived a fire. Petite frame and height made her appear physically non-threatening. Something that often worked in her favor.

        Doe-eyes looked up at the stranger’s herculean form. If Violet had been anyone else – perhaps she would find him threatening. After facing so many monsters, she found fear hard to muster. One could not tell someone’s intent by appearance alone. Villains came in many forms and often in a variety of disguises. A person who seems suspicious could offer aid at a time of need. It was still best to be cautious. Slender fingers clasped tighter around the dart. Which by appearance alone seemed indistinguishable from one might find in a game parlor. 

        “I have found one cannot rely on the word of the municipality. As corruption and power go hand in hand. However, I cannot deny this building is documented as vacant.” Violet’s voice was steady -unafraid. It was clear from her articulation and cadence that she was educated in high society. Even if those days were long gone. “Could I not inquiry the same of you? I apologize if I am wrong – but you do not exactly look as if you belong here either.”

        If Violet had been a properly trained volunteer, perhaps she would handle this better. As a mother herself – she understood her parent’s choice to keep her out of the organization. Yet at times like these, she wished for just a day of disguise training. Or had and iota or her mother’s acting talent. She genuinely felt her guises and fibs worked, not due to her ability – but by the incompetence of those around her. The man in front of her had the eyes of someone who was keen and determined. So, she wished not to press her minimal luck that he could see past a mask.

        “I have business here. As you see, this building has suffered fire damage. I am investigating it.” The best lie – was always a half truth. It was the very same organization that she sought who was to blame. According to her research, the former owners would not sell. Fires were always how they settled scores. “The local arson rate has accelerated over the past few months at an expediential rate. I find it very worrying.” Not once did she confirm whether she had explicit permission to be there. One should never show their hand before the appropriate time.

        The commonplace book in Violet’s lap was open. Filled with sketches of the opposite building’s exterior and what looked like the designs for various gizmos. All basic drafts of things she could use infiltrate. “Beverly,” A faux name she had used since her first true disguise. Where she was forced to perform in a cruel ‘freak show’ – that was unethical and outdated. There were times her nightmares were plagued by the sounds of lions devouring Madame Lulu and the blaze of the fire that burnt the carnival to the ground.

        Now was not the time to get lost in the horrors of the past, when the present was equally terrifying. There were children who suffered in the hands of the same criminal enterprise that stole her life. Personal feelings could not cause her to waver here. Her gaze went from him to out side the window, where smoke plumed from stacks and machinery buzzed. A small sigh escaped her full lips. 

This war you're waging will never end.

And what did Frank Castle even know, anymore? A good, home-cooked meal? No he'd forgotten that. He hadn't eaten something made by hand in too many years to count. (He'd never have Maria's spaghetti sauce again.) A warm, clean bed with fresh sheets? No he'd forsaken that for motels and dingy holes in the wall where the fabric scratched his skin and had been feasted on by moths at some point but at least it was something warm, right? The love of a good woman? No, no he'd lost that, too. In an instant, right there with his little girl and Junior and there hadn't been a god damned thing he could do to stop it. He'd been through the phases; blamed himself, blamed others, rationalized, bargained internally, but anger ... anger stuck. Anger made sense. It felt right.

Anyone tied to the deaths of the Castle family had been dead and buried more than a year prior. No loose ends, no mess. If anyone so much had breathed their names with any ounce of ire Frank had come for them like the executioner he was, and put them down like the sick dogs they were. Because it was right. Because it settled something in him that had broken back in Kandahar. Because he thought he could find some semblance of peace.

And he did, it was true. Some part of him found proper footing knowing that the people who'd hurt him, stolen from him, were gone. But it didn't bring them back. Peace? No. That was only found putting people down. He accepted that now. It was who he was.

The Punisher.

So he punished.

On the scale of moral judgment, things that he considered pure and unfettered wrong was anything to do with children. They could be assholes sure, Frank had been the king asshole of them all when he was young, but they were innocent. They didn't deserve to be preyed upon (what if it had been Lisa?) or sold out to the proverbial mines (what if it was Frank Jr.?). He calmed his nerves before every go-around ... not because he was afraid but because he knew it would appease him too much if he didn't filter it. If he didn't shut that part of his brain off before he kicked down the door and did what he did best.

One batch, two batch.

All of the pennies and dimes in the world wouldn't stop him from following the trail.

And he'd left one hell of a bloody one behind him so far. There was a string connecting these work houses, he knew. He'd picked up the scent after the second, when the conditions were too similar and the kids had leashes held by the same hands. He'd bleed his way up the food chain, shake down enough of these operations to catch the attention of someone worth torturing information out of. He'd go from there. But for now? He'd watch.

Case too-large to be luggage in hand, nondescript duster jacket, military reg boots and a bit of hardware that might make the average Joe squirm and he was on his way into the nest across the street. He'd scoped it the day before - it's vantage points were primo, and he could post comfortably (not that it mattered) for a few hours and watch through a scope before he acted. It was abandoned, which was perfect, and at the very least he could work undisturbed.

Or ... it was supposed to be abandoned. The picture of one of Lisa's little books he did not expect to see - spyglass and all.

Whose there?

Fingers tightened around the handle of the rifle case. Nondescript, blended just enough but suddenly he seemed out of place et al.

"You supposed to be here, lady? City marked this building as abandoned."

i need someone to blab about violet's fallout verse with. plz someone.

Drinking To Excess

tws for alcohol, of course.

"Okay, you've had too much."

"I'm fine, I want another drink -"

"You can barely stand!"

"Oh, I'm going to have such a hangover."

"How late did I stay up last night?"

"Eugh... how much did I drink?"

"My mouth tastes like ass. Not for the usual reasons."

"Someone call me a cab?"

"I'm jus' gonna... lay on the couch for a bit..."

"You're shooo... prettyyy..."

"It's a party! Have a drink!"

"Yeah, I know, I know, but it's just one drink -"

"I'm not supposed to be drinking..."

"Shots! Shots! Shots!"

"A toast! To the person of the hour!"

"What a party! Woooo!"

"Oh, I'm gonna - I'm gonna be sick."

"Nooo I don't wannnaaa lay doooown..."

"Whatcha mean? M'fine, I'm barely drink'd at all."

"I'm fine to driiive."

"... you know I'm sober, right?"

"Give me - give me your keys."

"I'm the designated driver. This is orange juice."

"We should go to the beach..."

"I love youuuu... and you...."

"Let's get a kebab."

"Ohh I'm so hungry..."

"I didn't even - didn' even - drink tha' much..."

"We should do this every week..."

"Wooo! Yaaaay! Hooray!!"

someone should rp isadora or quigley with me so i can have my otps.