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this is fuckin' awesome

Open RP Post

⊛ find a character you want to play with and respond to their thread. can't find who you want? let me know!
⊛ we can make up a scenario, adapt a meme of some sort, or... something else? whatever the fuck we want.
⊛ if you need ideas, the random scenario meme has just about anything you could want.
⊛ wanna do a picture prompt? we can do some picture prompts.
⊛ FUCK YEAH WE'RE TOTALLY ROLEPLAYING RIGHT NOW!!!

Handy-Dandy Quick Links:
Vanessa Cleveland ⊛ Catty Turner ⊛ Finnick Odair ⊛ Belle Beaumont ⊛ Chloe Saunders
Commander Shepard ⊛ Piper McLean ⊛ Jordan Langley ⊛ Jaime Lannister ⊛ Eli Keaton
Sally Malik ⊛ Corey Carling ⊛ Shadow ⊛ Fenris ⊛ Meetra Surik
Revan ⊛ Keiko Nakagawa ⊛ Alyss Heart ⊛ Ava ⊛ James
Percy Jackson ⊛ Frank Zhang ⊛ Helen ⊛ Jason Grace ⊛ David Levin
April O'Neil ⊛ Galen Marek ⊛ Reyna ⊛ Jackson Swift ⊛ Jaime Reyes
Fran Zhang (AU) ⊛ Jasa Grace (AU) ⊛ Piper McLean (AU) ⊛ Gretel ⊛ Sirius Black
Cullen ⊛ Liv Durand ⊛ Maddie Moss ⊛ Daniel Bianchi ⊛ Finley Odair (AU)
Persephone Jackson (AU) ⊛ Derek Hale ⊛ Raleigh Becket ⊛ Allison Argent ⊛ Liam Hunt
Seph McCauley ⊛ Jonah Kinlock ⊛ Edward Kenway ⊛ Aveline de Grandpre ⊛ Gale Hawthone
Will Scarlet ⊛ Korra ⊛ Carswell Thorne ⊛ Scarlet Benoit

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He just eyes her for a moment, gaze holding hers. "Promise?"

Is he serious right now? She doesn't even resist rolling her eyes at him. "Cross my heart."

The look he gives her back is scathing, because it's not like she's given him much reason to believe she'll stay put. "I'm holding you to that."

Slowly, he lets her go, sitting up so he's straddling her waist. Her blood has seeped through, ruined his shirt as well as hers, but he's not too concerned about that. His fingers reach for her laces, undoing them with a certain efficiency.

Gretel remains still, making a face as he straddles her. Seriously, Hansel, she is not some delicate little flower that needs a tender hand. Still, she waits, staring up at the ceiling.

"A chair would have worked just as fine, too," she mutters as her shirt comes undone. This is really unnecessary.

"I was going to try that if you didn't agree to this." He means hit her with a chair to knock her out. She gets a small, tight smile as he peels her wet shirt away from the wound. It's an ugly thing, and he feels an entirely rational surge of rage at the sight of it.

"You shouldn't have done this," he mutters, reaching over her for a nearby waterskin. They'd scooped up as much of the healing waters as they could effectively carry before leaving that shithole of a town, and he doesn't hesitate in making use of it now.

"Nothing about what you just said makes any sense." But now she's glaring at him, because whatever he means by "that" and the mention of a chair is probably not good. She shifts a bit, kneeing him in the back. Don't be a dick, Hansel.

There's a slight hiss from her as he peels away her shirt, the fabric sticking to the wound. "I don't care, I wanted to." Another hiss from her as she grits her teeth. "Someone has to make sure you don't get hurt all the time, and I don't see any white witches around here."

Because she's definitely not one, nope.

He scowls at her when she knees him, but his touch remains gentle as he acquires a rag and pours some of the water onto it. He dabs at the wound, cleaning away the blood with the care of someone who's done this a thousand times before.

"I can take it. I don't need my much smaller sister throwing me out of the way."

"I can take a beating as good as anyone else, thanks," Gretel tells him with a scowl. She doesn't need to be babied here, and if she wants to throw her brother out of the way, she damn well is going to.

She still has to admit, though, that it's maybe a little nice to be taken care of, as much as she protested against it. Better to get it over with now than when it's bad, and better her brother than the kid.

The wound starts to knit shut before his eyes, and something in the way he holds his shoulders relaxes. It leaves a scar behind - they can't waste the stuff, after all - but she's healed, and that's the main thing.

He runs his fingers over the mark, lightly. "Definitely an idiot."

Edited 2013-07-10 03:12 (UTC)

Her mouth twists somewhat, but it's less harsh now as she glances at him. She notices the way he relaxes, and it has a calming effect on her, too. Not because she was worried about herself, just the way he was worried about her. It gets to her.

"Must run in the fucking family, then."

She ignores the shiver that runs through her body at his touch. Look, it's sensitive.

"Can't disagree with that." He thinks of their parents. Their father, who married a witch. Their mother, who wouldn't fucking protect herself. Seems like they do come from a line of stupid, all things considered.

She shivers, and he frowns. "Cold?" Not that he's moving to cover her up. She has other cuts and scrapes, not so bad as the healed gash, but bad enough. He folds the rag over and runs it over them, watching the skin knit together and fade to pale purple.

There are things Gretel could say right now, but they seem slightly inappropriate. "The water's cold. What the fuck are you even doing? I'm good." She squirms under him now. He wanted her to stay fucking still for the big one, but this is just getting a tad bit ridiculous.

She doesn't really like being on her back.

"The water's cold? You're cut half to pieces, and you're complaining about the fucking healing water? What the fuck's wrong with you?" The urge to keep touching her stirs in his gut, travels down to his fingers, but he grits his teeth and tosses the rag aside.

"Fine. But if you start to rot, you can be damn sure I'm not fucking looking after you."

That's a lie.

"What's wrong with me? You got me half exposed and on the floor while you're rubbing cold fucking water into my skin. Of course I'm going to complain." Because that's better than saying, hey by the way, the way you're touching me feels pretty damn good right about now.

She's rolling her eyes again. "If it's that important to you, just do it. I'll lie here, and you can nurse me back to health."

You've got me half exposed and on the floor...

It brings up an image that's a little different to the one she's displaying right now, and something spasms across his face. Irritation. Definitely irritation.

He should just say fuck it and leave her to it, but he doesn't. It's probably a sick urge, but whatever. No one is ever going to accuse the two of them of being normal. He reaches back over to grab the rag again. 'Like you wouldn't do the same fucking thing."

She watches him carefully, an eyebrow arching at the look that crosses his face. Whatever, he is just as immature as she is, and she's not even going to bother herself with trying to figure him out. Except maybe there's a part of her that's worried about him.

"I didn't say I wouldn't." Gretel's not much of a caregiver, but for her brother - for their mismatched family - she'd do it. She folds her arms behind her head, propping it up as she keeps her eyes on him. "I'm always going to take care of you. Why else are we in this position?"

He snorts, working his way up her torso. It requires more laces being undone, more skin revealed. She's so fucking pale, it's obscene. "Because we're a family of idiots, didn't we decide?"

The rag moves over the curve of her ribs, higher, cleaning her up and wiping away the cuts and scraps as he goes. He can feel his mouth going try, which is also stupid, because he's done this a thousand times before and--

Had about the same reaction. Sisters aren't supposed to be so damned attractive.

If anyone walked in on them right now, it would probably end up fucking awkward as shit. But, regardless of the fact that this is her brother, Gretel's beyond the point of caring. They've been together for so long, that it really doesn't even matter to her. All they have had, before the kid, before Edward, was just each other.

Her lips purse as she ignores the way his hands feel as they - and the rag, she supposes - move over her skin, a soothing relief spreading through her as the water does what it does best.

"We're a family that watches out for each other."

Her shirt has almost completely come apart. There are no more scratches, but the material's all torn to pieces. Technically, he doesn't need to undo the last of her laces for her, but his fingers hover anyway.

"I guess that's true." And he reaches up and strokes her hair back behind her ear, a light touch that most people wouldn't think characteristic of him.

Most people don't know him, though. Most people don't know them.

Her eyes close briefly for a moment, just letting herself be without all the damn problems that they face on a constant basis. It's nice, the way he touches her. It reminds her that he's still there, that they are.

They open again, and she stares down at the state of her shirt. Ripped, bloody, pretty fucking useless if you ask her. "I never liked the fucking thing anyway." She shifts again, leaning up on her elbows, the sides of her top just barely covering her.

"Am I all better, doctor?"

His gaze sweeps over her, and darkens as he takes in the sight of her. He's not the kind of guy that likes seeing a woman beat to hell and back, but the water has taken care of that. She's all smooth skin and faded scars now (and his sister, something reminds him).

She's filthy ad they're both fucking exhausted, and he's never seen anyone so beautiful. Not even Mina. "I'm not your fucking doctor. You tell me."

Gretel doesn't miss that, not the way he looks her over, not the way his gaze darkens. She manages to keep her breathing even, but there's a small thrill that runs through her. This is her brother, and she shouldn't enjoy something like that. Really, she shouldn't, but some morals were pointless, she's realized.

Resting on one elbow, she shoves her hand at his chest with a grunt. "I already fucking told you a thousand times now that I was fine. You're the one who wouldn't let shit be. And now I'm supposed to tell you if I'm okay? Are you going to even listen?"

Nothing changes in her manner, but he thinks he can pick it up anyway. How she reacts to him, the way he looks at her. You are so fucked up, a voice whispers in the back of his mind. He doesn't disagree; they both know that already.

He catches her wrist when she shoves at him, but his grip is light now. If they weren't siblings, maybe it'd be a caress. "If you tell me the truth, I'll listen."

"What makes you think I was lying before?" She shakes her head, loose tendrils of dark hair falling into her face as she does so. "I don't lie to you." Omit things, sure. Not tell the entire truth, definitely. But never outright lying. That would be pointless.

She tugs her arm lightly, not enough to actually break his hold, but enough to ask him to let her go.

"I didn't say you were lying, Gretel." At some point they've moved in closer; his breath ghosts across her cheek.

He could kiss her.

But she's tugging her arm, and he answers the wordless question by letting go, leaning back. Another moment, and he clambers off her. His shirt's a little wet from her blood still, but other than that it's fine. He strips it off, tossing it at her. "Here."

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