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@alliancepaladin
{ hardlytrusting. }
“Commander.” His arm snaps up into a salute almost involuntarily. Neither him nor Shepard are part of the Alliance’s chain of command right now, but over a decade of training are hard to shed. “Can I help you?”
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hey alexay ur a butt
i will literally murder you
[ With all the shit I see going down on my dash, I felt like I should make a quick PSA - god-modding is a serious issue. It’s not something to be toyed with, and both character-development as well as RP should handle the subject sensitively.
And let me make this clear: If your partner feels you’re god-modding, you probably are. This is about mutual enjoyment, not only yours, and to be honest, it’s not even fun for yourself if you give your character too much power. Let your character lose for once if the situation can’t be won without god-modding.
To end this probably useless paragraph, I want to make clear that communication is extremely important between partners, especially during combat-scenes where god-modding can happen on accident easily. And I want all of my current and future RP-partners to know that they can talk to me if they see an issue with something I have written in my reply.
Let’s say it one more time.
Communication is everything. ]
commission made for renegadepaladin
Mun vs Muse: Any topic.
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I want a trouble-maker for a lover, blood spiller, blood drinker, a heart of flame, who quarrels with the sky and fights with fate, who burns like fire on the rushing sea.
Rumi (via kingoftheravens)
[ If your mother hadn't died, where would you see yourself today? ]
He rears back - it's a question he has asked himself often. That doesn't mean he has an answer now."'M not sure. I still would have joined the Alliance - wanted to since I was six years old."He doesn't say anymore - doesn't voice his thoughts. Doesn't wonder if his career would still have taken the same route, if he would still be the man he is today.Doesn't dare to wonder if maybe, maybe he wouldn't be this lonely and full of regret now.
[Have you ever thought about Mary again? How do you think she dealt with you leaving without saying anything?]
His eyes narrow and he takes in a shaky breath, trying to calm the way his heart has started beating, the erratic pounding in his chest reflecting the way his thoughts have started racing.Mary.He hasn't spared much thought to her since leaving her, all those years ago, and it's what shames him, leaves a sour taste in his mouth. But it also proves that leaving had been the right decision, that the feelings he had faked had been simply that - the lie of a desperate, lonely man, an attempt to delude himself, to keep himself sane.He averts his gaze. "I didn't. What use would it have been?" A hollow laugh. "I don't know. But she was a strong one - probably cursed me to hell and then picked up some asari."
Dark purple. Y’the one that started this; it is fair.
Dark purple is still purple, man. And it's not like my biotics are some kind of fancy, freakish colour, so I don't really see your point. [ He shrugs. ]
Who wouldn’ pick anything over a volus? Y’compliments ring hollow, Kirilov. [ He laughs. ] I’m pretty sure that’d be one of the worst ideas ever, sorry. Y’kinda an asshole.
Nah, y’ain’t seen my purple. Nothin’ about it’s like an eight-year-old girl. If anything, yours is. Baby blue, eh?
I may be kind of an asshole, but at least I'm hot and can kick ass - that balances it out. [ He smirks, shrugging in a nonchalant way. ]
Excuse you, but what kind of purple doesn't look like an eight-year-old? And leave my biotics out of this man, not fair.
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Friendly reminder that I am in possession of photographic evidence of that tattoo.
Acario what the fuck I told you to delete tha-
Hey, that doesn't even look so bad.
God, I have a great ass.
A blasto tattoo? Really? What's the story behind that one?
He laughs awkwardly, the trace of a blush gracing his cheeks as he scratches the scar on his cheek. "What story? I was drunk as fuck and had just watched the entire Blasto franchise. It seemed like a good idea at the time."
Y’know, even if I was interested in marryin’ you, I wouldn’t want to now. I mean, y’think a fuckin’ jellyfish is cooler than me. —Not cool, man.
Y’wish y’could glow purple.
Aw man, did I hurt your feelings? Don't worry, I'd still choose you over the volus. Also what's that supposed to mean, marrying me would be a great decision, I'm a fuckin' catch.
Why the fuck would I want to glow purple? What's the advantage of lookin' like an eight year old girl.
sentinelcommander replied to your post “FMK. Shepard. Blasto. A volus.”
I just realized you said Blasto is more badass than me what the fuck man.
Wasn't aware you very interested in marrying me but yeah, until you can hold six guns at once, Blasto is my preferred choice. At least he doesn't glow purple.
when you’re evil // voltaire
it gets so lonely being evil
what i’d do to see a smile
even for a little while
and no one loves you when you’re evil
i’m lying through my teeth
your tears are all the company i need
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FMK. Shepard. Blasto. A volus.
Are you fuckin’ kidding me? Kill the volus. Marry Blasto, because let’s be real, that jelly is the only one even remotely badass enough for me. Guess could we have an open relationship and pick up babes together, I’m not fuckin’ a hanar. Again.[ He shudders. ] Fuck Shepard. And hope I don’t get murdered.
[ Where were you when your mother was robbed? Had you been with her, do you think she might have lived? ]
He frowns, trying to play down his inner turmoil. His heart is pounding loudly in his chest, the simple bodily function a reminder that he is alive, is breathing and fighting and laughing and living while she isn’t, hasn’t for years and never will again, will never feel wind brush her face or a warm embrace engulf her again.Will never see the monster he has become, despite all her efforts.His frown deepens and he takes in a deep breath as he clenches his jaw, his fingers curling into a fist in an attempt to buy time, an attempt to stop his own thoughts, his own self-hate swallow him. It’s the one question he had never expected to be asked, he himself the only one able to torment him with the implication, the accusation. He had been passed out on their dingy couch, only come home a few hours before after one of their fights - it had been petty and useless as usual and he had sneaked into their flat in the middle of the night, too ashamed to face her and her disappointed gaze. By the time he had woken up, a cop had been knocking at their door.His gaze lifts and he clenches his jaw more. "Not with her." Something akin to regret flashes over his face. "Maybe."
