I had a flower crochet crown

“Afraid; lies catching up to me.” — (via yoursixwordstory)

ladyofnucleus:

bangbangkopfschuss:

ladyofnucleus:

"Especially the subsequent matches, afterward."

"Same to the downtime in between matches and their successors."

-coy grin- “Even the lemons?”

"Hm.. no." He wasn’t smiling; no, it was far more ‘sour’- "I think I can do well enough without, thank you."

ladyofnucleus:

bangbangkopfschuss:

ladyofnucleus:

bangbangkopfschuss:

"Eliza, do you ever miss the days when we chased one another as enemies?"

"Hn, those were good times."

"Never a dull moment."

"Especially the subsequent matches, afterward."

"Same to the downtime in between matches and their successors."

ladyofnucleus:

bangbangkopfschuss:

"Eliza, do you ever miss the days when we chased one another as enemies?"

"Hn, those were good times."

"Never a dull moment."

"Eliza, do you ever miss the days when we chased one another as enemies?"

.

bangbangkopfschuss asked: 'Someone' had taken it upon himself to--after days of avoiding the RED doctor--break into her facilities, namely her laboratory's 'cold storage'.

ladyofnucleus:

Eliza hadn’t seen her sniper for some time, now, and had been barely able to fight off a wrenching, empty ache when she was awoken in the middle of the night. She hadn’t been able to sleep much, and decided the best method of dealing with her insomnia was to procure some ‘supplies’ from her lab to help her nerves.

Imagine her surprise, however, when finding the door to her freezer slightly ajar. The medic hadn’t gone in there, recently—why was it open? An ominous pit curled in the pit of her belly and she slowly opened a cabinet to retrieve a small firearm before going to investigate.

Pistol drawn, she eased the door open and glanced around.

Were it not for the preserving chill of the body freezer keeping the overwhelming stench of the recently dead and long since frozen, entering the small space would have brought with it a perfuming assault on the olfactory senses;  that of newly mutilated flesh and formaldehyde interlacing a ghastly concoction, able to revolt and horrify those of weaker fortitude. 

In spite of that same heavy chill, Amsel sat unbothered at the end of an occupied examination table. In one hand, a near-to drained bottle of nondescript, clear liquid that he had no further desire to leech dry; the other toyed with one of the table’s feet.

He had already been angled toward the door, and was all too aware of Eliza’s intrusion. He was surprised to see her up at this hour, but not effected by it in the least. He’d learned her sleeping patterns; troubled, she seldom did without aid. She hadn’t been without something on her mind, of late.

He hadn’t bothered to give a look of guilt, as there was none he had to offer. Rather, he simply looked up - Nothing to say, either.

(via thequirkydoctor)

Anonym asked: THE POOBAH IS GRANDLY PLEASED! WED YOUR WENCH TO THE RADEMACHER IN THE SMALL ASIAN FAMILIES PRESIDING PRESENCE! TWO COWS FOR HER DOWRY IN THE ADDITION OF TWO SMALL AFRICAN CHILDREN!! SO COMMANDETH THE POOBAH!

"Oh no. No, no, no— Not this again. Don’t you even start. You can take your dowry and ‘poobah’…

Wait. Are you insinuating a three-way including Rademacher and a small, Asian wench?

You confuse and frighten me.”