fight for the life that our children should have.

love alone is worth the fight.

France, 1974
The Cold War was a time of upheaval and change for the whole world. My husband and I seized this chance, wanting to help change it for the better. To make a safer world for our daughter to grow up in.

But everything went wrong: the very project we were trying to stop came after my family. They kidnapped me, forcing my husband and child to go into hiding. The world is still in danger thanks to our mistakes. I'm still being held prisoner until my family resurfaces.

I will escape and I will find my family before they do.

Indie RP for Anthea Hopper from Code: Lyoko.
untrustyou:

JJJJohn
filed under: x rose haired mother x searchlights saga x idk like they escaped and something? x {outside; out free}
untrustyou:

Katie Silvester
filed under: x escape the city x {outside; out free}

theartofeviscerator:

Surgical Steel

filed under: x blood cw x the compound x {outside; out free}
melisica:

(by Thyme Tomas)
filed under: x a mother is something fearsome x {outside; out free}
filed under: x linecrossed x stewart saga x {i dunno anthea's freaking out about this song for William and Stewart} x zeroredtape x mun no one cares about your stupid playlists
untrustyou:

David Benjamin Sherry 
filed under: x pink x {outside; out free}

(Source: sigsigkei)

filed under: x ah shit son x virtual barriers x {outside; out free}

darlingmoore:

thecaptivemother:

It was strange, after all this time away from them. Seeing someone (or rather, someone else)walking in public with a gun. When she was in the Compound, it was a common sight— but in most of Europe there were very strict regulations on their (legal) use.

She had almost gotten used to the fact that not everyone carried guns. Gotten used to the sign of hands occupied with other objects: cameras, flowers, money, groceries, presents. Not everyone had secrets that doubtless came with carrying such deadly weapons. 

Even here in America, where gun laws were much more lax, guns weren’t a common sight.

Then, of course, there was this woman. Anthea had noticed her riding the same train, same times as her. They never spoke, never caught each other’s eye. Just strangers on the train, who would never give each other a second thought.

That is, until Anthea noticed something. The well-hidden but unmistakable lump in her jacket, the way her hand hovered over her waist when she stood up. The way her eyes shifted about when someone on the train made a scene.

This woman had a gun, and she had it for a reason.

Anthea shook her head and crossed her arms, looking out the window. Trying to keep herself from staring by studying the grey and white blurs of buildings, the pallid sky overhead. It was going to rain soon, wasn’t it?

Still, in the reflection, she could see the blur of blonde hair. Distracting. The expression on the woman’s face: The kindness buried underneath a hardened expression. A slight mask of anger that was obviously unwanted— it was so familiar. So similar to the expressions she herself had been practicing to avoid. To try to seem normal. Civilian.

What is your story? She let her gaze settle on the woman’s reflection for a few seconds. Just a few. Why do you seem so different? So… uncivilian? So battle-hardened?

 It’s not your concern. You don’t want people prying in your life, don’t pry into theirs. She’s. just. a stranger. 

She’s exhausted. Her eyes threaten to close at any given moment, her eyelids feel as though weights are upon them. She adjusts her posture, her hand brushing quickly over her left jacket pocket where her gun is situated, a slight alteration and essentially undetectable movement to prevent the exposure of her weapon.

She’s just finished working a job, running on four hours sleep & two & a half cups of coffee on the way back to her hotel. She lets out a sigh, runs her hands upon her face, in an attempt that the cold skin of her hands will wake her up more. Her hand runs through her blonde curls, pushing the unruly strands behind her ears.

Distraction. That’s what she needs. A distraction. Blue eyes dart about the train, & come to a rest to the outsides of the window, the blur of buildings & the dark grey colour of the sky. Going to rain, again. She shares the train with about six others, all spaced out upon the worn leather seats dotted along the train. Her hand pulls her jacket around her tighter as she looks around the train. 

Across from her sits a woman who’s attention is occupied by the outside of the window. Jessica keeps her face calm, emotionless, a mask that she’s spent a long while perfecting. For some reason, the woman has her attention, & there’s something about her that she just cant’ shake ——- Or of course, that’s just her newly obtained trait of goddamn near constant paranoia. She looks away, & forces herself to bring her attention back to the surroundings passing by through the window.

Her lips quirked into a small smile as she noticed the other woman staring at her. So she had the same strange feeling about Anthea that Anthea did about the blonde woman. 

The bus stopped, a man in an ill-tailored suit walking on. Anthea stared at him. The look in his eyes was strange. Reminded her too much of Shane. Then his eyes flicked towards her, narrowing at her for a moment before shifting to the blonde woman.

A couple walked off the bus, brushing past him. In the shuffle of seats, Anthea somehow found herself sitting next to the woman she had been inspecting earlier. Whether it to satiate her own paranoia or just to keep the creepy man from sitting next to either of them, she wasn’t sure. Hell, he might just be another passenger and her paranoia was making her see things again. 

But she was here, invading the other’s sacred personal space. And so she smiled in the blond stranger’s direction, nodding her head in greeting.

Her English was clear, but of course she had learned in France and the accent marked her as out of place in America. ”Sorry. That man was scaring me. I didn’t want him to sit next to me. Uh. If it helps, my name is Patricia.”

filed under: x deadly weapons x {I was gonna write in what her accent sounds like but it was more confusing ot read than anything so basically just imagine a lot of dropped x h's and th's and a ot of clipped vowels i guess? x } x darlingmoore x {ah the guy can be a random stranger or he could actually be someone after jessica or anthea or whatever you want i guess}

pxrfidus:

.

image

✖       ❝ Schaeffer, Anthea. Nice to see    y  o  u  r     f  a  c  e     . ❞

She hadn’t been able to resist wandering over the park. Where they had once lived. Where she had once been nothing but a ghost. 

The house itself was broken down, never once used since that day. A shaking hand clutched at her blouse, drawing over her heart as it ached. Pictures were broken, furniture upended and ripped open. Tyron hadn’t been kidding when he told her that the place was torn apart. 

A voice behind her spoke her name— her real name. She stiffened and turned around. 

She had no idea who this was. And so, the natural question was posed:

"I don’t think we’ve met. Who are you?"

filed under: x evo au x what's left of me x {this is long i'm sorry. we can go back to one liner ro something if you like}

//people are actually fucking posting rape jokes in the code lyoko tag

ok first of all they’re like 12 years old

second of all why the hell are you so immature you think you’d actually fucking tag that wow 

i honestly feel sorry for them.

like really, ship whatever the fuckkkkkkkkkkkkk you want (I’ll sideeye the hell out of you but I won’t say a thing to you) just don’t fucking tag it just fuck off fuck off get the fuck out of the tag thank you.

I know it’s a children’s show and the fandom likes to make more adult topics out of it because it was a pretty grim show for a child to watch but there are certain lines that we do not cross.

filed under: x {jumped out the window} x rape mention // x i'm so furious right now i don't know why this has me so wound up but it does x passive aggressive ///