[ hamletfactory ]

                     An untamed enigma is this boy of John who so eagerly wishes to stay out and away from their family-owned garage long enough for his father’s anger to fizzle out —— and for the most part, he trusts menial tasks to keep him out and about for as long as he could accrue items for a select few. Get Stephen’s controller from Jack, run to Stephen’s, check on Sam and avoid John.
                     Step one of very many tasks initiates with a ring, a private cough of nerves as though someone would tattle that he’s not working on a prized Chrysler with his father barking commands at him in the most disappointed voice he’ll ever hear of.


                     Still imagine his surprise when he comes to find her instead of Jack once the door creaks open, vivid absinthe oculi widening in almost comical shock because when Jack said yeah, someone will be there, Dean had expected Jack and not her.
                     He says instead of whatever other intelligent remark he could have uttered, tongue tied like a cherry stem at a bar by a virgin tempted to get laid. He balks.

      The young heiress from across the pond could only find amusement within the other’s surprise, a smirk of sorts playing upon gently stained lips. She has seen him around— a proper introduction never truly conducted, a matter of which she’ll bring up to her charming Jack later. For now, the girl was pressed for time. Her haste one she’ll apologise for once she’s passed the awkwardness that’s threatened to make her blush a pretty pink.
               She could only imagine what an impression this must be.


          ❝What? Seeing a girl in her intimates somethin’ foreign to you?❞
     She was going to hide her embarrassment. Or make an attempt. A lady should never be seen under such lacking circumstances; it was improper, an act of insolence that would have her mother most displeased.
     Slender digits rise to curl an auburn lock behind her ear, expectation burning a fire within russet depths. 
               Was he always so tongue-tied?

(Source: dvasia)

[ cacawcacaw ]

Ellis isn’t light, sure, but it’ll take more than a wound on his side to leave him incapable of helping her out. “Jus’ keep it steady.” Wrapping the fingers of his claimed arm around her own, all he needs is a little support to pull himself to his feet — and by the looks of it, that’s exactly what Lara intends to provide. It takes a few seconds of grunting and gritting his teeth, but he does eventually manage to get himself upright.

One hand clasping a screaming gash strained by motion, the mention of Louisiana doesn’t remedy the frown tugging on his face.


"We were leavin’ N’Orleans when I got split up from m’ folks." He still remembers it clearly, too — the air force jets, the napalm nearly dropped right on their heads. The bridge. Being reminded that their trek across the southern part of the country was completely futile only has his attention going straight to the scuffed toes of his boots. “There ain’t nothin’ back there waitin’ for us no more. Trust me.”

She may not had optimism engraved in her bones, but this Georgian does. That’s why he imagines there’s still a place out there they can take refuge in, too. Refuge for good.

     How fortunate it was he held onto consciousness— had he been any weaker, her odds of helping him, if at all, would’ve decreased dramatically. After all, a lost cause was no cause, and she had little need for such waste.
               Battered fingers held fast to his arm, worn heels digging into the pavement for leverage. A bite of her lower lip staved a grunt of exertion from pushing itself from her chords, but they managed. Ellis was on his feet. Wounded and discontent as he were, at least the worst of their dilemma has passed. Her grip loosened to a degree yet remained if only for the assurance he’d remain standing.
     An exhalation of a gasp left her lips in a near-apologetic way. He’s come a long ways, then. Completely opposite of the infamous city.

          ❝So, CEDA—? It’s all gone?❞
     Not that her faith resided with them in the first place. It wasn’t a bad thought to trust in control somewhere, though. CEDA was a symbol for that control, however flimsy and unreliable it all seemed.
     Lara didn’t require a response, the cogs turning in her mind to a bitter and instinctive system that made her speak thoughts aloud. 
               Her mouth pressed into a line as mahogany hues hardened with focus. It’ll be getting dark soon and they had a lot of ground to cover.
          ❝We should prob’ly get moving.❞

ohdewitts asked: bioshock infinite or tomb raider?

Roads Untraveled
by Linkin Park
539 plays

(Source: musicblogx)

41 notes | 6.14.14 | REBLOG
❝There was that coldness inside me. I wasn’t myself. I felt hollow and dangerous.❞
Tim O’Brien, The Things They Carried 

(Source: j-existe)

[ skullkiddean ]

         ❝All the ladies say that to me, bitch.


                    A frigid sudor clings to his spine through battle worn shirts causing the bearer of the [ mark to call it to him almost immediately, fingers tucking it gently inside his sheathe.
         ❝You’re just gonna have to get in line.

     Silly, silly boy with his hurl of second-rate name-calling. What a mutt of war he was, set loose if only by a brand born out of jealousy and rage. Perhaps the former forgot the details of his crime? It wasn’t below him to lie. Yet this son appeared none the wiser.
          A crocodile’s gentle grin curves upon the bitch’s lips.


               ❝An’ here I thought we were friends.❞
          Nevermind the loaded pistol held firm within fingers cracked of old blood and mud, a darkness of her own resonates from a core of bruised bones and scarred flesh.
                         Fear held no power here.
               ❝Get in line?❞
     A playful flame ignites within russet depths, a mirthless breath of a laugh pushed from tainted lungs as that smile twisted into a sneer. A pawn was no threat to a queen.
               ❝I’m at the front.❞

(Source: dvasia)

[ captxinhooks ]


         ❝ how deep in troubles have you put yourself in, lass? 

     Not a common child was she, not a beggar or otherwise. Her troubles were her own, as deep and vast as the sea that stretched beyond the weathered docks. 


               ❝None that’ll follow you— I promise.❞


Anonymous heard you: Hello! I have a question that may seem a bit odd and please don't feel obligated to answer but I was wondering what your thoughts were about the reboot compared to the original games? If you even played the original games because I know some haven't..? Sorry for rambling!

ooc. hmm. there were some things i absolutely loved about the reboot. i loved the scenery, i loved the gameplay, and, for the most part, i enjoyed the story. it was something that you could feel, that you could be a part of, and that was amazing. but the things that bothered me are the things that probably shouldn’t??? i mean, there was definitely a lot more action than there was adventure which made things a tad too repetitive. i don’t agree with the ending at all ( mathias as the final boss over the opportunity of himiko!sam is a decision i’ll never understand but tolerate ). uhm. there’s something about reboot lara that’s kinda off when comparing her to her classic self. original lara loved the thrill of adventure, she loved the traps, she loved the challenge of cheating death at every possible turn. reboot lara only did what she did in order to survive, not because she loved it. i guess i can’t complain too much seeing as i wouldn’t love it very much either if i was thrown into a situation like that, but that attitude, that come at me and that all you got attitude, is what made lara, lara. i hope this answered your question?? i feel like i kinda went off on my own little tangent here oops.