bakerstreet | in other words.

1. defenestrate: to throw someone or something out of a window
2. marcid: withered; incredibly exhausted
3. sitooterie: a place to sit outside in, as in a gazebo; a secluded corner to take your partner during a dance

1. athazagoraphobia (n.) the fear of forgetting, being forgotten or ignored, or being replaced

2. sabaism (n.) the worship of stars

3. yūgen (n.) an awareness of the universe that triggers emotional responses too deep and mysterious for words

4. dysania (n.) finding it extremely hard to get out of bed in the morning

5. qualtagh (n.) the first person you meet on a special day

1. agastopia (n.) - admiration of someone's body

2. commuovere (v.) - to stir, to touch, to move to tears

3. paralian (n.) - one who lives by the sea

or bring your own!

1. yuanfen (n.) - a relationship by fate or destiny; the binding force between two people

2. sabaism (n.) - worship of the stars

3. sitooterie (n.) - a secluded corner to take your partner during a dance

4. tintamarre (n.) - an uproar

1. anagapesis: no longer feeling any affection for someone you once loved.
2. euneirophrenia: the peace of mind that comes from having pleasant dreams.
3. sehnsucht: "the inconsolable longing in the human heart for we know not what" -- a yearning for a far, familiar, non-earthly land one can call one's home.
4. lethe: a river in the greek underworld that, when drunk from, makes souls forget the sufferings of life; oblivion or something to make you enter oblivion and forget.
5. [bring your own?]

The previous encounter hadn't gone as expected, ignoring that Poe hadn't been meant to directly cross paths with Rey anywhere near this soon. If the remaining Sith thought there had been such a chance perhaps they would have taken different measures, given different orders.

As it was he had still returned to them, flown to a designated meeting point once he was certain he wasn't being followed. Unfocused and angry, their new asset proved more difficult to control than he had first been. He wanted information they wouldn't give, and they were agitated by the Jedi throwing an unexpected wrench into their plans. A little pain lingered from the well-intentioned prodding of his mind and having metaphysical wounds reopened, to where Poe lashed out at one of his handlers when he felt that uncomfortably familiar brush of contact in his mind. Unintentional provocation and yet not all of the Sith were unhappy with the turn of events. Corruption was all the better when the subject reached into the Dark on their own.

They were displeased at his unsanctioned departure no matter that there was still relevant intel he could act upon. A wild dog should be settled before siccing it on another target to insure a better outcome. Instead Poe stormed off after the outburst, half unconsciously falling back on the old habit of seeking the calm of flight and half already having his own target in mind to chase.

It was easier to follow Rey's trail this time though it was unclear how much of that was because she wanted him to find her (a foolish thought) and how much was because of his increased focus on her (a marginally more comfortable thought). Not too easy, nothing that aroused suspicion or worry of a trap. He caught up to her on a Separatist planet of all places, which would have dashed any concern about the prey leading the hunter. Somewhere that wouldn't garner a thought from others but he could follow the logic in it, in doing the opposite of hiding in plain sight and mingling in arguably enemy territory.

Also notably somewhere that there was a virtually zero chance of anyone else in the Resistance becoming collateral or adding to his kill count. Not that that realization had come to him.

Her eyes seemed particularly striking in the dark, though it was probably just from the moonlight coming in from the window he'd slipped in through. Funny how his attention caught on that rather than giving more focus to the blaster she had pointed at his chest, almost a perfect mirror of his aiming one at her. But then there was no need to give extra focus to a weapon that wouldn't be used. She wasn't going to shoot him, any more than he would have shot her in their 'first' meeting. Poe couldn't pinpoint how he knew however his instincts were completely certain and that was enough proof for him.

A cocky quip had been in mind for when he caught her, or half a dozen other remarks, but they all slipped into the ether now that the moment was here. Now that he was face to face with Rey again.

"I can't stop thinking about you." The words came almost unbidden out of the tangle of his thoughts yet were as truthful as anything he'd ever said to her. Poe's brow furrowed slightly and his grip shifted on the pistol. It felt strangely awkward to have each other at gunpoint but he didn't want to be the one to lower their weapon first. He couldn't appear weak. "What did you do to me, Jedi?" Her name was on the tip of his tongue but something wouldn't let it out; the distance was needed, some part of him insisted.

She had wanted him to remember, after all. To not forget the past that was muddled and foggy, shoved far out of reach. However sometimes wishes and outcomes didn't quite line up as expected when one magic sought to undo another's malicious meddling. Her conviction was strong but so was the Sith's, and the latter cared not about his wellbeing past his ability to fulfill the mission. Whether the haphazard and hasty attempt to make him regain some clarity had done good or only more harm remained to be seen.

Though, if nothing else, there had been no further attacks on Resistance safehouses since their paths previously crossed. Difficult to say whether that might continue or if it was simply a fluke while he was unfocused, or rather, unable to focus on those orders.

Rey had been waiting for him, though she'd half-convinced herself he wouldn't actually follow. Then she'd convinced herself that this was a bad idea. She gotten away from him the last time, having instilled just enough uncertainty in him to press her advantage and leave, though she'd been unable to bring him back with her as she'd wanted.

She's not sure she has any hopes of succeeding this time, either, which is why she hasn't told Finn about any of it. It would break his heart more than thinking Poe dead. Even if he didn't get himself killed in pursuit of his former co-General, he'd suffer every day that Poe was with the remnants of the Sith.

She was going to kill every last one of them that remained for what they'd done.

But she needed him free of their influence, first.

She kept her blaster trained on him as she spoke, though she wasn't going to shoot him any more than he was going to shoot her. It was more that she didn't think he'd trust her if she immediately took a weaker position outright.

"The same thing you would've done for me."

Her gaze is clear and steady in the dim light of the room as she moves back a few steps, giving him space to move into the room with a clear path to either exit. She doesn't want to trap him by force. She just wants to pull him back a few more steps toward a place of calm and clarity.

"We're not going to hurt each other, so let's put these down and have a conversation, shall we?"

She doesn't need a weapon to stop him. However he's been trained, she's confident that she can subdue him again at least long enough to run. Her unwillingness to do real harm is a liability, but she'd never forgive herself if she did something she couldn't undo.

The caution, the weariness, is clearer than he would like it to be as Poe watches her, his grip tightening reflexively on his blaster as she moves. It's almost a comfort in a way, the weapon. Similar to being in the pilot's seat. Although where the latter was rooted squarely in his authentic self, something that couldn't be erased without an entirely clean slate, the former is near entirely a more recent acquisition. Sure, he had been a skilled shot before and comfortable with a rifle or other guns, but that was more simply part of being a soldier, part of what was expected. Not like what had happened since his capture and turning, with killing not only being ordered but encouraged.

His mind doesn't linger on that, though. It doesn't want to. Rey has his focus, and arguably more of it than she should. Getting too narrow of a focus and honed in too closely was dangerous, he knows that. He can't quite help it. Isn't sure if he would want to. The background uncertainty is consistently bothersome but he doesn't know how to make it go away. Part of him considers it squarely her fault and yet, is it her that his anger is drawn to?

"You first." he replies, even as he lowers his aim slightly. It's not as if she's wrong, much as he would rather not admit it so clearly. Why else had he sought her out if not to do what he failed to before? But even as Poe has the thought he knows that's not true. He didn't track her down to capture her, even if it's what he should be intending to do. This was about him wanting to find her, for reasons that were unclear but no less compelling.

Poe does move further into the room slowly, taking what ground she gives. His gaze flicks around, sizing up the space, but — whether foolishly or not — he doesn't feel concern about any unpleasant surprises. Another gut feeling that he trusts more than repeated warnings of how deceitful and deceptive Jedi could be, at the moment just muted echoes at the back of his mind.

A flicker of nervousness comes and goes and he steadies himself, coming another step or two closer, like he needs to prove that he's not worried about her acting out against him. But maybe on some level he also simply feels a pull to be closer to her. "If you try what you did last time..."

"No tricks, but I'm not letting you hurt me or capture me."

She lowers her own weapon, setting it down on the small table behind her, and then reaching back to activate the lamp next to it without taking her eyes off his. It's a small space, but there's a small sofa and an armchair here in the outer room, and now that it's lit well enough to see properly, it ought to be clear that there's nothing out of the ordinary in here. No traps. No backup. Just her.

"I've never wanted to deceive you. Sit."

She nods to the seating arrangement without moving toward it yet, herself. She'll let him choose and keep a safe distance until she's more certain this isn't going to go south. She wants to reach out in the Force, to offer some reassurance that she's a friend -- but she doesn't want to do it without his consent, for fear that he'll see it as some trickery, and also because she has no desire to muddle his mind any more than his captors already had.

He would have laughed before, or at least chided her in some way. Not let him do what his overarching mission was intended to lead to? How cute. Maybe he would have such a reaction later, at some point, when the recent fog cleared from his mind. When what the Sith crafted was able to settle back into place — or was renewed. Something that would undoubtedly happen in the future if a chance was given for it to be done.

But in the here and now there's just sort of a quiet grumble to her remark, which could easily be construed as not believing her about no tricks or not being happy about the latter declaration. That he didn't have an active intent to do either of those things at the moment was irrelevant.

That she relents and outright sets her weapon aside eases a layer of tension that wound through him. Poe's eyes flicker over the furniture, then move back to her. After another moment he lowers his blaster, pointing it at the ground between them as he watches her, then finally slipping it in the holster on his thigh. He doesn't relax, however, even as he moves to perch on one arm of the small sofa simply because it's closest. An alertness remains in his posture, familiar perhaps even if what drives it now isn't the same as what used to.

"No? I find that hard to believe." Everyone uses deception, is deceptive. he thinks to himself. If nothing else it was always a safer assumption. Particularly when it came to someone who was arguably being hunted. "What's your goal then...?" There's the briefest of pauses as he finds her name on the tip of his tongue again but it's too familiar, feeling both right and wrong. "The Sith have more than enough patience to see to the end of the Resistance." He doesn't say it as a threat so much as like stating a quiet fact. Even a warning, perhaps? A repeated message, though he can't recall when it was said — maliciously, darkly, both a promise and explanation as pain had been driven deep — but the words come to him now as he finds that background uncertainty creeping a little louder in her presence.

"I want my friend back."

She settles into the armchair across from him, moving slowly so as not to provoke any instincts she doesn't want to have to disarm. She'll keep true to her word; she won't be trying to deceive him, or even to touch his thoughts unless she has to. He's curious, now. It's an improvement over the last time.

She bites back a retort about the Sith, and how she'd killed their Emperor. She'd been so focused on that victory that she'd allowed a friend to be taken, somehow -- she still doesn't know how anyone got off that planet alive to capture him. She's going to kill every last one of them. But she needs him back, first.

"What do you remember, Poe? I know they haven't taken everything from you."

There's enough of his old demeanor left in the way he moves and speaks, in the way he looks at her now. There had always been a certain wariness to the way he regarded her, even when they'd been friendly, but now it's missing the edge of humor that had always accompanied it.

No, not missing. Buried. He was still her friend. He'd just forgotten.

( voicetesting. still canon-reviewing. some info in journal. )

bakku-shan (n.) someone, especially a woman, who only looks attractive from behind.
nunchi (n.) the subtle art of listening and gauging others' moods; the ability to know what not to say in a certain social situation.
dépaysement (n.) when someone is taken out of their own familiar world into a new one.
soigné (adj.) possessing an aura of sophistication in dress, manner, or design; presented or prepared with an elegance attained through care for the finer details.

wildcard.

Frowzy - adj. Habitually unkempt
[him in a nutshell, his house is covered in clutter to make it feel lived in]

Sprezzatura - n. Studied carelessness; The ability to make one's actions seem effortless or to disguise one's true desire feelings or meaning.
[he often comes off as less intelligent than he is because it makes him seem more friendly and approachable]

Athazagoraphobia - n. The fear of being forgotten, being forgotten or ignored, or being replaced.
[the angsty option, and a legitimate trigger of his. It's why he does his best to get along with everyone]

((No shipping or smut but open to everything else))

1) Raffish: (adj.) Fashionable; devil-may-care and unconventional

2) Antephialtic: (n.) Something that protects against nightmares

3) Ludic: (adj.) Full of fun and high spirits

4) Sweven: (n.) A vision seen in sleep; a dream

5) Ultroneous: (adj.) Voluntary; spontaneous

6) Wildcard! Bring your own and we'll work something out.

1) Uitwaaien - The inability to express your feelings
2) Agelast - Someone who never laughs
3) Athazagoraphobia - The fear of forgetting, being forgotten or ignored, or being replaced
4) Surprise me! Crosscanon/AUs and such welcome.

1. soigné; dressed elegantly, well-groomed. possessing an aura of sophistication in dress, manner, or design; presented or prepared with an elegance attained through care for the finer details.

2. kairos; a time when conditions are right for the accomplishment of a crucial action : the opportune and decisive moment.

3. cicatrize; to find healing by the process of forming scars.

4. metanoia; the journey of changing one's mind, heart, self, or way of life.

5. bring your own prompt; cross-canon, AU, assumed CR all good.

Edited 2022-03-22 14:36 (UTC)

1. Oriflamme: (n.) a symbol or standard that inspires confidence, devotion or courage.

2. Mizpah: (n.) the deep emotional bond between people, especially those separated by distance or death.

3. Peripeteia: (n.) a sudden or unexpected reversal of circumstances; the point of no return.

Sehnsucht | Arcadian | yoko meshi | peripeteia | Or your own!

cafuné | élan | micawber | epanorthosis | your own choice.

1.) Mistpouffer: (n.) A mysterious sound heard over the ocean in quiet, foggy weather
2.) Eternitarian: (n.) One who believes in the eternity of the soul
3.) Selcouth: (adj.) Unfamiliar, rare, strange and yet marvelous
4.) Oubliette: (n.) A dungeon with a door only in the ceiling; a place you put people to forget about them
5.) Nedovtipa: (n.) Someone who cannot take a hint
6.) Advesperascit: (v.) The approaching dark; the evening draws near

Edited 2022-03-22 21:45 (UTC)

Kairos - (n.) the perfect, delicate, crucial moment; the fleeting rightness of time and place that creates the opportune atmosphere for action, words, or movement; also, weather.

Convivencia - (n.) lit. "living together", in the sense of living or working closely with other people with whom you share feelings, desires, or a common purpose.

Firgun - (n.) the act of sharing in or even contributing to someone else's pleasure or fortune, with a purely generous heart and without jealousy; or of sharing credit fairly.

Redamancy - (n.) the act of loving the one who loves you; a love returned in full.

[ooc: feel free to hit me up with something else as well.]

( voice testing )

a. agelast - someone who never laughs.
b. antiphialtic - protection against nightmares.

or bring your own!

Sara's a relatively new addition to the hospital. But she's noticed Quentin. Cute, maybe. In a mousy sort of way. Usually has his nose in a book.

So she sits next to him one day in the common room, twirling a dull pencil in her fingers. "Been here long?"

He's … pretty sure he isn't supposed to be here. Pretty sure. But. He's done this to himself often enough over the years that it might as well have been something he agreed to.

So, he sits. And he reads. Sometimes he looks out windows, and sometimes he paces aimlessly. He's content enough to fade into the background just like on the outside, because no one goes out of their way to speak to him unless it's one of the orderlies handing him his meds and telling him to lift his tongue to make sure he takes them —

Until now. Hm. He turns just as much as he needs to give her a sidelong glance around the fall of his hair. "No," he says quietly, and clears his throat. "Not this time, anyway. You?"

[ooc: It's a great word, and I love Quentin as a character so ♥ ]

"Eighteen months, so far. I'll probably be here for a while. At least another few years."

Sara Berry has always been popular. Every since she was little, she was the most popular girl in school. Right up until Senior Year. It's hard to be popular, in a hospital, but she tries. She makes nice. She makes an effort to make friends.

Her therapists are happy she's not self isolating.

"It was my birthday, not too long ago. I got a brownie. No candle, though. Kind of sad, but I get it. Fire bad.

I'm Sara."

Edited 2022-03-25 00:05 (UTC)

( ooc; i'm so happy to hear when people like him, i feel like both the books and show don't get enough love. also, i'm so sorry this has taken so long! work, i think, is quite literally trying to murder me. )

"Oh," he says quickly, and still a little bit quietly, without realizing he's spoken at all until that single word is out of his mouth. He peers at her again, more than just sidelong this time, and he thinks, of all the people he's seen in a place like this before … she doesn't look the type.

( But then, dear Q … maybe it's the pretty ones you need to look out for, hm? Have you thought about that, yet? )

"Jeez, I'm sorry you had to spend your birthday in here," is what he finally says next, after realizing he's supposed to be an active participant in a conversation if there's hope of it going anywhere. He's never been much of a conversationalist, especially when it comes to making small-talk with someone he doesn't know, but Julia … even before now, had always gone out of her way to nudge him in the direction of those she thought were showing interest in him. In any capacity.

Don't look the gift horse in the mouth, or something like that. Seems a poor turn of phrase to use in a situation like this, but it's the only one his brain sees fit to supply.

"Happy late birthday, for what it's worth," is what follows, and then, "fire bad, I get, but do you have any idea how hard it is to get tape around here?" A beat, but he doesn't really give her time to answer. "Because it's impossible, in case you were wondering."

"It was my twentieth, which I guess isn't a big deal. But I'll probably still be here for my twenty-first. I doubt they'll let me have any booze, even if champagne would be like, absolutely amazing. I don't think I'm allowed to drink with the meds I'm on, anyway."

It almost doesn't matter that her new friend doesn't talk much. She doesn't need someone to talk to so much as at. Someone to aim her energy towards. And a lot of people are bored of her, by now, so someone fresh is welcome.

"What do you need tape for?"

naz noun: the pride that comes from knowing you are loved no matter what you do

amarinthine adj: undying, immortal; eternally beautiful; a deep purple red

guttitum adj: drop by drop

naufragous adj: in danger of being totally wrecked or destroyed

Edited 2022-03-24 04:21 (UTC)

caim - (n.) lit. "sanctuary"; an invisible circle of protection, drawn around the body with the hand, that reminds you that you are safe and loved, even in the darkest times

koi no yokan - (n.) (phr.) the feeling one has upon meeting another person that they will fall in love

rantipole - 1. (n.) a wild, reckless young person; 2. (v.) to be wild and reckless; 3. (adj.) wild and reckless

oriflamme - (n.) a symbol or standard that inspires confidence, devotion, or courage

naufragio - (n.) lit. "shipwreck"; colloquially, a lousy party

advesperascit - (v.) the approaching dark; the evening draws near

Edited 2022-03-25 08:42 (UTC)

in other words.

Engineer | Team Fortress 2 (no preferences!)

Mizuki | Arknights | OTA

Luke Skywalker | Star Wars

elia martell | asoiaf | ota

Vladilena Milizé | 86 - Eighty-Six-

Rey | Star Wars | OTA

3 ; also, the winter soldier au because I'm horrible

i love them let's be awful

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

miu | sputnik sweetheart | ota

Ink!Sans || UTMV || OTA

Jason Todd | DC Animated Movies

Brook | I'm the Grim Reaper | OTA

roland crane | ni no kuni 2 | OTA

Maedhros | the silmarillion | ota

Ganymede | Greek mythology

Paris | Greek mythology

Conrad Achenleck | Hanna Is Not A Boy's Name | OTA 🦇

Miko Yotsuya | Mieruko-Chan | ota f/f pref

drift | idw transformers | ota

ciri | witcher | ota

blake | rwby | ota

ratchet | idw transformers | ota

hana 'd.va' song | overwatch

tommy shelby | peaky blinders | ota.

quentin coldwater ( the magicians )

oneirataxia

i was really hoping someone would pick that one ... thank you

no subject

no subject

no subject

Sara Berry | The Ballad of Sara Berry

Magda Stockly | OC

Jack Benjamin | Kings

greed(ling) / fma: brotherhood / ota

bruce wayne | the batman | ota

The Little Prince