Welcome to
The Decade of Decadence.
It's the denial of pleasure that leads to the cancer. It's the repression of desire that leads to the crime. So I skip the middleman. Allowing myself the crime in the first place. ((Independent Fantomex RP account. Please read the OOC tab in the "more" section.))
  • ((I don’t want to burn myself out on Destiny but it’s soooooo good.))

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  • ladyhxwkman:

    ((no nearly cool enough lbr))

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    are you clint barton? no you are fantosex now get out pls

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    "Alien life has never been my forte—but I will admit Captain Kirk has always been a huge inspiration of mine. Green women do it better, wouldn’t you say?”

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  • crushercarlie:

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    Carlie had the first-aid kit tucked into her arm and her phone out when she heard the men outside her door. She froze, her hand hovering over the ‘9’ on her touchscreen; it seemed like the ambulance would have to wait. She thought of the man in her living room, and grabbed the shotgun she kept near her bedroom door before rushing back to face him. 

    "Who … are those people after you?"

    "Something…far worse than the faux sirens make them out to be." He was of course referring to the sounds that harkened their arrival just moments earlier—Jean-Phillipe stumbled to her couch, planting himself there with a gasp. He would need to operate soon.

    "They are ‘people’ in the loosest sense of the term," he said, shrugging off his jacket and lifting his shirt. He grimaced at the wound, holding his hand out to Carlie for her to give him the kit. "Sent to track down and terminate those who proceeded them by a benevolent, tyrannical dictator—I need warm water and something to mop up this blood. Shoo shoo, I haven’t got all night."

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  • crushercarlie:

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    "You’re bleeding!" 

    Stupid, Cooper, of course he’s bleeding. She ran to the door and clicked it shut, forgetting entirely about the gun he had aimed at her — there were more pressing matters at hand. She was no paramedic, but she’d do all she could to help a citizen in need, however … questionable they may seem. 

    "I think you need to lie down. Flat on your back. I have a first-aid kit in my bathroom with bandages. I’m calling an ambulance."

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    "Very astute deduction, Mr. Holmes—gah!" 

    Jean-Phillipe braced himself, clenching tighter on the wound to try and suppress the blood flow from the wound. He kept the gun level at her chest, urging her to keep her distance—voices of angered men soon filled the hallway outside Carlie’s door. Jean-Phillipe raised the hand that held the gun upwards, sticking the trigger finger upwards to place it perpendicularly over his lips. Quiet time just began. 

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  • Nights In White Satin
    The Moody Blues && Days of Future Passed
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  • pedropascal-daily:

    You just can’t stop loving him… :)

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