sgspoilers

In a Tower || Murphy x Harry

Ex-Lieutenant, Ex-Sergeant, Karrin Murphy was a lot of things. She was a fighter, a marksman, a decent cook. She was pig-headed and bold, unwilling to back down against the nastiest and most powerful of supernatural creatures. She was not, however, a goddamn damsel. She was not the princess in the tower. She was not bait and she sure as hell was not happy about being forced into that role.

It had been a year since Nicodemus’ foot had come down on her knee and given her one of the most agonizing injuries she’d ever endured. Tendons destroyed, a bone cracked, the joint damn near rendered unusable. It had been the quick action of Dresden and Butters that had gotten her to the hospital in time for it to be stabilized and an impossibly perfect surgical team that had kept her from needing a knee replacement. The fantastic condition she’d been in at the time hadn’t hurt either.

Only a year of recovery time had passed, she was able to walk now without any cane or crutches. That had been a nice change of pace but she had only just begun to train again with her doctor’s clearance. A year of almost no working out had left her weaker than she was used to. Unprepared for when the arms wrapped around her throat and waist. Unable to do more than thrash as the world faded into stark blackness.

She’d lost track of time by now. She’d been in the damn room for at least a few days, although the single light overhead didn’t give much in the way of an indication of passing time. A nasty cut lay across one cheek and her skin was peppered with bruises. Her lower lip had split a long time ago and the blood wasn’t fresh anymore but it still hurt like a son of a bitch. Her arms were tied behind her in the chair and her shoulder ached with the position.

They’d demanded over and over to know the location of Harry Dresden. The Winter Knight. She wasn’t sure what court they were – Summer, wanting to kill the Knight to weaken the court? Winter, wanting to take his place? Hell, something else entirely that just hated Harry? It didn’t matter. She wasn’t talking. Truthfully it was getting hard to. She was parched, exhausted, hungry and aching. It was becoming an exercise in futility trying to wriggle out of the bonds on her wrists and she had the worst neckache from sleeping in this damn chair.

A hostage. Seriously. This is embarrassing. Murphy groused to herself as she looked around the room for the billionth time as if this time there would be a heretofore overlooked sharp edge to slice through the damn ropes.

( askthewizardpi )

An Evening (What Fitful Dreams) : Nicodemus & Murphy (Post SG)

The nurses made way for the man who approached the lonely door.  Though they had never seen him before, they greeted him as if he belonged, and forgot about him shortly after he passed them by.  In only a few moments, he arrived at the door unimpeded, entered, and took note of the occupant.

She slept restlessly, it appeared.  Her sheets were jumbled, her hair wild and untamed.  He was aware of her plight, as his silver-green eyes observed her.  The setting sun shone on his caramel skin, and he walked to close the blinds completely, cutting off the dying light from the room within.  A last shock of sunlight played upon his dark hair before the shades completed their journey.  Alone in the room, the fluorescent lighting barely humming, he sat down in one of the available chairs.

Using words of power, Uriel spoke: “Ms. Murphy.”

Strained Meetings | Molly and Murphy | SKIN GAME SPOILERS

Molly took a deep breath. She had not seen Karrin Murphy since the woman had shot Maeve, indirectly causing Molly to become the Winter Lady. Still, the woman a friend, and when a friend is in the hospital, you visit them. She walked through the halls of the hospital to the former sergeant’s door, smiling at the SI officer standing loyal watch. Knocking on the open door, she peeked in, seeing if the other woman was awake.

“Karrin?”

“E nesse meio tempo eu aprendi tanta coisa. Descobri que você não é o que eu quero, é o que eu quero querer, porque é o sensato, porque é o racional, porque parte de mim e de todas as pessoas que eu conheço sabem que nós deveríamos ficar juntos. Mas, aprendia também que essa coisa estupida sobre sentimentos é também sobre não ser racional e o que eu quero, de verdade, é que você seja feliz e que eu seja feliz também e o que pode nos fazer feliz é o irracional. No entanto, se duas pessoas devem ficar juntas, ocasionalmente isso vai acontecer, então não temos de ficar querendo querer isso." 

An Evening : Nicodemus & Murphy (Post SG)

The clicking of silverware against a plate interferes but slightly with the music emanating from the old phonograph in a corner of the chamber.  Nicodemus almost hums along as he cuts off the last small piece of filet mignon.  This particular dish is one of his favorites, and he takes advantage of the moment, enjoying every particular sensation and flavor.  He lifts his crystal glass of red wine and sips lightly from it as he takes in the surroundings.  The somewhat long dining table is draped with fine linen, with a simple silver candelabra in the center shedding flickering light over the trays of food, steaming in the cool air.  Their separate aromas swirl as he breathes in deeply, slightly closing his eyes.  An excellent dinner.

The music continues to play as Nicodemus leans back in his high-backed chair of dark ebony.  Drumming his fingers on the armrests, he considers the individual sitting across from him in a similar chair, an empty plate before her.  Her head droops to her chest, but it gives him the opportunity to observe the intricate styling of her hair and the jewels woven throughout.  The dress she wears is of an old style, hugging the shoulders while exposing the upper region of her chest.  Nicodemus lifts an eyebrow, as he recalls the shop in Paris where he had acquired the dress more than two-hundred years earlier for Deirdre.  

The stone walls dance with the light of the candles as Nicodemus watches the woman’s breathing, steady and alive.  Lifting his glass of wine once more, he clears his throat loudly, to no response.  He does so again, louder.  This time, the woman moves slightly, the slight jump of the sleeping person about to deny that they were sleeping.  Slowly but surely, her head raises up from her chest, and she blinks bloodshot and tired eyes as she looks around.

“Welcome, Karrin.” tiny-fierce

After the Game // Lash and Harry (Ask-Harry-Dresden)

“So is there any way I can get you to tell me what really happened at the vault?  It seems that no one’s speaking very much about the matter.”  Lash was standing in front of the Water Beetle, arms crossed and ignoring glances that workers kept giving her.  Short of walking up to the Carpenters’ or someone else’s door and asking, this was the best way she could think of to find Harry.  He had to return to the island at some point, so she had been watching the boat.

ask-harry-dresden ]

Back after awhile and relating to Skin Games

Hey there,

Georgia and I have had a rough few months, but I’m back and I’m not about to give up. Feel free to let me know if you need a little feral help with anything bumping in your night.

((OOC: I’m up to date on Skin Game, but all Skin Game related posts, questions, and RPs will be tagged with SGSpoilers until at least Sept. 1st to respect those who have less time to read or may read even slower than me.))

Night Out || Murphy x Dresden (POST SKIN GAME)

Yep possible Skin Game Spoilers here too. Seriously get SGSpoilers blacklisted if you’re seeing this and don’t want to risk it.

Murphy wasn’t sure when she’d last changed her outfit six times. She felt stupid standing in front of the mirror with the little black number on. It looked especially great with her knee brace. She grimaced and shook her head, turning to stare at the discarded outfits. Jeans and a t-shirt were looking better and better. But it felt wrong for a date. Especially a first date.

She swallowed and limped over to her closet. Murphy refused to use her stupid cane to walk around her own house. She stripped the black dress and threw it on her bed with the rest of the clothes, staring into her closet almost accusingly.

Finally she pulled a soft blue blouse from the closet, sliding it on. It flattered her waist and it made her eyes pop. “Good.” She muttered to herself, and nodded. A pair of black pants on top - after a pause to remove her brace and ease her leg in with a grimace - and the brace atop that.

Karrin stared at herself in the mirror and then shrugged a little, “works.” She slid her feet into simple black ballet slippers and looked up as she heard the telltale sound of the doorbell. “Ah.” She muttered. Murphy ran her fingers through her hair a few times and paused to fix a tiny smudge of eye makeup.

Feeling good about herself she grabbed her cane and made her way to her door, hesitating for a nervous moment before pulling it open, heart in her throat.

Tonight was her first date with Harry Blackstone Copperfield Dresden… after all these years. She wasn’t sure why she was so nervous. She felt like a teenager.

( ask-harry-dresden )

An Evening (A Momentary Pause) : Nicodemus and Murphy (Post SG)

A slight beeping entertained the only guest of the room, filled with the smells that always seem to permeate hospitals: chemicals, and bodily fluids.  A small rolling table hovered near the bed, an empty plastic cup with a straw and melting ice as its only occupants.  The occupant rested with her eyes closed, in between the worlds of the real and the dream.  She breathed lightly, a slight rasp departing her lips in a melody with the sound of the equipment around her.  Two empty chairs faced her, and the sun barely filtered through the shades of the windows, the beams harbingers of sunset.  

The door opened, and a lone figure stepped through, almost reluctantly.  He closed the door silently behind him, a dull click sounding, but not disturbing the sleeping woman.  He walked like a person at a wake, approaching the bed and observing his friend.  Biting his lip, he turned away, walked to a chair, and sat down heavily.

The sound made the woman stir, and she slowly opened her eyes.  "Sorry about that,“ Butters said quietly.  "Didn’t mean to wake you.”  He paused, without saying more, his fingertips caressing something that looked like a leather holster for a long rod attached to his leg.  He sat, trying to relax.  Murphy could see that he had something to say, but he appeared completely reluctant to say anything at all.  As she stared, his discomfort increased, until: 

“How, uh…are you feeling?” tiny-fierce

Bit of Bonding || Thomas x Murphy (SG SPOILERS)

You’re being warned again: this thread is going to have spoilers for Skin Game. If you haven’t already blocked SGSpoilers you should. I’m doing everything I can here.

The pain had gotten manageable, not usually one to rely on painkillers Karrin Murphy had started rejecting them as much as they’d let her. She hadn’t had one in roughly twelve hours and it hurt like hell to move too much, but she just kept herself in her bed.

She sighed and leaned her head back, staring at the television screen. “Oh come on, Kendall. Stop being so oblivious.” She complained at the All My Children episode playing in front of her. She rolled her eyes and sighed, closing her eyes and throwing an arm over her face.

She had never been injured this badly. Two weeks in the hospital with intensive therapy…and that was just them trying to make it so she could walk again. Fucking Nicodemus.

She could still remember that moment…the moment when she lost that grapple. When she felt herself falling. When she heard the snapping of her own leg before she screamed. That scream echoing in her own head…

Murphy shuddered. She was dealing with the mental aftermath as well as she could, but Harry was dangerous around all this equipment and … well, honestly she didn’t know a whole lot of people who weren’t. Butters was busy with his new job… she was left to own devices.

And it was boring.

She groaned, shifting and flinching as her leg twinged, half tempted to give in and call for some morphine.

(askthomasraith)

An Evening (A Future) : Nicodemus & Murphy (Post SG)

The ground rumbled and shook.  Disturbing and loud shrieks echoed above and around them.  Smoke from the uncountable fires filled the air around them, smelling of absolute desolation.  They momentarily hid in the ruins of a Chicago building, the brickwork piled all around with scorch and claw marks.  Every now and again, a human wail swept up the street, only to be cut short with a triumphant and ungodly sound. 

Nicodemus leaned his back against the wall, eyes closed, thinking.  He had foregone his usual tailored and expensive suit for a more…active outfit.  Tight-fitting black military clothes accentuated the muscles that were usually hidden.  Armor plating sewn into various points of the cloth protected him, for the most part.  His shadow flickered on the bricks behind him, almost as exhausted as he was, the fire between the gathered individuals burning bright.  His face was covered in sweat and soot.  He seemed, in this moment, uncertain.  

He looked across the flames to two of his Denarians, one in his demonic form, the other resting on a block of marble, tired in his human form.  They had taken quite well to life with a coin, and he had taught them much.  He had little choice; once he was aware of what was to happen, he had to act quickly.  The time for his plans was not now.  No, now was the time to fight, and to survive.  And survival, it seemed, was turning out to be quite difficult.  Three coins weighed heavily in an inner pocket, still warm.  

Nicodemus pushed himself up off the wall, and walked to the fourth Denarian, who was standing on top of the rubble pile, keeping an eye out.  He stood beside her.  "Even I, for all my enemies claim about me, would not choose this.“  His eyes took in the utter ruin that was around them, the Chicago landscape charred and broken.  Overhead, a military jet soared loudly past, through banks of black smoke.  Pointless, Nicodemus thought to himself.  Soon, the pilot would join his comrades in oblivion.

Nicodemus turned to face this fourth Denarian.  He ran his hand down the scaly skin of her face, as she stood at attention in her demonic form.  Her silver, medusa-like hair churned behind her in agitation.  Nicodemus continued: "To be honest, I am fortunate to have you by my side.  Your connection to this city, to those friends you have lost in this war with these Outsiders…”  Another monstrous shriek sounded, and they both looked around, wary.  "Your need, your desire, for vengeance is a powerful weapon for us.“  

He clasped his hands behind his back.  "Our history has been one filled with anger.  But now, in this moment, I confess to you, daughter.”  He paused, preparing himself for what he was about to say.  

“I am proud of you, Karrin.”  tiny-fierce