DND 5e SKILLS STARTERS ! send my muse an ABILITY CHECK for a starter revolving around that skill, with the outcome determined by a d20 —— ( dice roll generator ! )
If they were to peel back a corner of the dingy wallpaper, Elektra has a strong feeling the other side would look like the lining of a smoker’s lung. The lingering cigarette smell haunting the furniture may be informing that opinion. She doesn’t like to complain, but her eyes are wandering the room and eventually land on Frank with reluctance and discontent — really, we have to sleep here?
Gruff as ever, his comment makes her frown deepen a millimeter. “Let’s hope the windows aren’t sealed shut.” Because that might be a deal breaker. “You know,” She goes to check, cracking one. It brings some fresh, but too-warm air into the room. “There are some real hotels in town. Ones that don’t smell like an ashtray.”
Supporting the WGA and SAG-AFTRA strike is important to me.
If you can, please show your support to these unions. Their continued strike puts pressure on the studios to make deals that favor the industry in the long run, because the improved working conditions will favor the real creators of the very TV shows and films we enjoy.
Otherwise the shows and films we receive will be AI-generated imitations fed on existing media. Straight up cheap derivatives with no human heart behind the art, if not just more sequels and nostalgia-mining remakes the studios love, because they’re a safer bet for their shareholders.
Seeing posts hating on my favorite characters would be a lot more tolerable, if people actually complained about the things they actually did, instead of making up a dozen things they didn’t.
RESILIENT? Matt wants to laugh, but instead a sound akin to a sharp choke escapes his throat. Maybe that’s what people would assume given the many masks he wears, but he knew, deep down, that it was far from the truth. Everything he did, from fighting for justice in the courts to gallivanting through the streets at night donning the face of the Devil, is to keep those horrible thoughts that burn through his mind, every second of the day, at bay. Most everyone in life has something horrible from their past that haunts them in the quiet hours, and in retrospect, Matt’s suffering may seem minuscule compared to others — but it is his mind that takes those events & turns them over and over in his head until it’s all he can think about, until he feels as though he can’t breathe anymore, until it’s as though the hands of God are crushing his windpipe and —
AS THEY SAY, YOU ARE YOUR OWN WORST ENEMY. And maybe later when his thoughts are no longer cloudy, he’ll linger on Elektra’s words & feel the warmth of delight spill from his ribcage. If anyone could claim to be resilient, it’d be Elektra; she knew who she was and what she wanted, and even when he damned her for her flaws she refused to be changed. It was something he deeply admired about her. And maybe that was what he could rely on if nothing else: her unyielding spirit.
You’ll regret the time you don’t spend with him. This was true. Matt’ll do what he does best and avoid the matter altogether until it was too late. He’ll lie awake at night years later & agonize over the ridiculously selfish decision, knowing that Foggy had wanted him by his side but he chose to hide to avoid the pain of uncertainty instead. Elektra was right. But simply abandoning the city didn’t seem entirely fair either, did it? “I know,” he sighs, grits his teeth as the sting of tears burn his eyes, says it once more as though to confirm it for himself, “I know.” The weight of her body becomes evident as she sets a knee next to him, the warmth of her emanating from her skin like the morning sun. His head sways toward her, cheeks all flushed, and allows himself to pinpoint the strong but steady beat of her heart.
A SHAKY BREATH ESCAPES HIM, and he hides the weakness by resting his brow against her collarbone, the slow thump of her heart reaching his ears like a soothing yet powerful symphony. “If you do this…” he begins, voice low & cautious, already feeling that wave of apprehension wash over him at the thought of letting go — of releasing control over this city, even to her, “You can’t kill anyone. I mean it, Elektra.”
MATT KNOWS HE’S GOING TO TRY TO FIND EXCUSES. That’s what he does to ensure control stays in his side of the ring, but… this is different. And she’s right. He’s already spent more time on the streets than at Foggy’s side, and whatever may come regardless, he’ll hate himself for it. “Please,” he breathes, fingers trembling as they find their way to her hip bone to rest. “I want to trust you with the city, and I can’t — I can’t put these people in your hands if I knew there will be blood on them.”
Elektra
is sometimes grateful Matt can’t see her face, as well as he’s able to read
people regardless, and this is one of those times. Tears begin to prick in his
eyes and her chin lifts slightly, almost as if in an uncomfortable refute of
this close display of emotion. She knows on some level there’s nothing really
wrong with it, but she doesn’t know what to do when anyone cries, and people so
rarely do around her. It’s a show of weakness and the right thing to do is
shore it up, wait to be behind closed doors — at the thought, Elektra’s eyes
soften a bit instead, realizing to him, they are behind closed doors.
She
isn’t certain how much of Stick’s attitude on the subject stuck with him, too,
but she’s guessing it isn’t zero.
The
closeness summons a warmth beneath her skin, heartbeat feeling a bit louder in
her ears, and even if she wished otherwise, she can still feel the connection
in the air between them like a thousand little steel fibers. The something there. Can’t untangle it or slice it in
two. She wishes she didn’t feel drawn here, or that Matt didn’t
make her feel so human, and that feeling human with him didn’t feel so… good. That she didn’t want this
whenever it’s right in front of her.
What
surprises her more than anything is the press of his forehead to her skin, the
wrap of his presence and scent surrounding her mere seconds after she nearly
closed the gap. The way it throws her suddenly off balance like a fierce wind.
For a moment she fails to react, hearing Matt talk himself back from the
initial no. Maybe it’s his show of weakness; ducked head and trembling hand
steadying on her hip like she’s the rock she wants to be. But she can’t really
stand it — she wants Matt to feel strong, to stand on his feet and face the
world the way he’ll soon have to.
“Is
this you putting your foot down?” she murmurs, a tinge of inappropriate
amusement laced in her voice. Hard to mock him in this state, but actually
impossible not to. Then, without waiting, she draws his face up in both hands
and melts a kiss to his lips like an assuring balm. Can’t be weak in front of
Foggy, and if not with her, where? Usually a request like this would get an eye
roll, but at the end of the day, she wants to help him. She pulls back after a moment. “I’ll do it your way,” Elektra promises, only minimally begrudging, holding the sides of
his face as if to hold him up. Part of her feels like she’s saying goodbye to Daredevil for a
while, and the irony of her position isn’t lost on her. “You go be Matt
Murdock…” And I’ll be your Daredevil.
elektra’s confidence seems iron clad, but jessica’s not as convinced that matthew can keep his nose out of it simply because he’d be too busy with hell’s kitchen. who’s to say that he won’t be lured in inadvertently by a seemingly separate event ? it’s happened to her. but, it’s too cumbersome a possibility to bring up. it’s a possibility they’re going to have to risk.
“ listen, it’s not that i don’t agree with you. i don’t want him near this shit either. ” because elektra’s right, even if the devil is brutal and decisive in his pursuit against the evil that pervades his city, he’s also the type of martyr that will get himself killed. she’s seen it and jessica’s not about to witness it again. “ i’m just saying that… you know how he’ll feel if he catches on. but, i guess i don’t really need to warn you about all that. ”
throwing her hands up in a sort of defeat, the private investigator nods her head in the other woman’s direction. “ against my better judgement, i’m in. let’s kick some freaky cult ass. ”
She relaxes an inch off her intensity as soon as Jessica agrees it’s better to not involve Matt. Embarrassing how much a relief that is. In reality, she knows her judgment is at risk of getting cloudy if he comes within a certain distance. She doesn’t want to be influenced, doesn’t want the distraction of emotion he’s sure to try to tug alive within her rather than rely on her clarity of mind. But mostly… if he doesn’t know she’s around, he’s free to live without her and not get caught up in this mess, once again.
He deserves better.
And surely that’s not a load of honed baloney to cover the fact she isn’t ready to see him.
“Well. It’s a good thing no one’s asking his opinion.” Her crisp tone seems to imply they’ll cross that bridge if, or when, Matt is enlightened. And that’s all on the matter.
“Good.” Amazing how agreeable Elektra is when everyone is seeing sense. She leans forward a bit, keeping Jessica’s eyes as her own squint slightly in suspicion. “And how do I know you won’t go giving our plans away to Luke Cage? He’s in this, whether he knows it or not.” Either ignorance doesn’t count for much in her book or she doesn’t believe the newly crowned Kingpin of Harlem is ignorant.
Callused fingers press hard on either side of her jaw, keeping her angled up into Frank’s burning eyes. Her lips pull back over a snarl, refusing to be intimidated or concede an ounce of dignity in the face of his furious strength. Her tone bites hard enough to tear flesh. “I was only doing what you wanted to.” Being helpful, obviously.
While Frank was… too slow? Unwilling? Afraid? Dealer’s choice just what exactly she’s implying.
