CaptainRasmot

I got to wake up and be thrown into a panic attack. I don’t know if this reply was specifically directed at me, or just somewhere down the reblog chain to someone who had replies enabled, but I’m mad now. I happen to be passionate about protecting people who otherwise slip through the cracks, and I’m fucking triggered.

THIS response? THIS is horse shit. 

And Imma tell you why.

Role play is fantasy. It is fiction. It is fake. But sexual assault is not fake, and it leaves victims scarred and traumatized. I’ll be damned if I’m going to go through it again just because someone says “lol RP is fantasy”.

If someone’s RP that isn’t as high up on the list as sexual assault is bothering me, WHY YES. I DO IGNORE THEM. I DO LEAVE THEM ALONE AND NOT GET INVOLVED. IT’S VERY SIMPLE TO DO THAT, AND THAT SHOULD BE A PERSON’S #1 RESPONSE. JUST DON’T RP WITH THEM. ESPECIALLY with strangers. You have literally no reason to try to change a stranger’s RP, and asking for OOC communication and common courtesy is not trying to change people’s RP. If it’s too troublesome for you to back out of sexual assault RP (and other very serious triggers) when asked, you’re the problem.

In a group dynamic, them changing their RP isn’t going to happen. One would expect to be able to have a mature conversation OOCly along the lines of “hey, this thing that you and the group do, it kinda bothers me, so can we RP 99% other things and you just don’t direct that one subject at my character? I’m not going to try to make you stop doing what you’re doing, just don’t do it at my character, okay? And if you forget, I’ll just quietly remind you later.” 

When you’re with a guild you like, and you hang out and raid and play other games together and everything’s going really well and you don’t really want to leave over this one little thing that ONE character is pushing at you, it seems more mature to try to have that conversation.

People who agree with this screenshot response are the reason that conversation often times can’t even happen. The bullying commences. The accusations of trying to change people, expecting them to walk on eggshells, and trying to bully people to just stop RPing in general happen, and also, the thing that irritates me the absolute most gets thrown about like candy at a parade:

“learn to separate IC and OOC”

The very reason I reblogged this post is because I CAN separate IC/OOC, and I refuse to spend my free time RPing sexual assault, torture, or feeling anxious and horrible because I tried asking one person just not to direct their MO at me and they made a big stink over it. Because I CARE about the feelings of those I RP with, and I would feel awful if I made someone feel genuinely uncomfortable with something I did. 

I would rather not be that person who makes light of someone else’s suffering and casts them off as manipulative and possibly mentally ill, because that’s what this is. “YOU’RE TRYING TO CHANGE PEOPLE OMG YOU’RE TOXIC”. I am trying to take care of myself as well as others. I’m not out here policing people en masse, although that’s what you’re suggesting. And it always manages to go there, which is absurd. One person becomes “the masses”, and we can’t even have conversations anymore. 

Those triggering subjects are not fake, and I don’t want to go through them again. Repeat: I refuse to go through them again, EVEN IN FICTION. BECAUSE IT’S FICTION, AND I DON’T HAVE TO PARTAKE. THAT’S HOW I AVOID TRIGGERING MYSELF IN THE FIRST PLACE. 

I. DO. NOT. PARTAKE.

Because I realize it’s on me to hunt for RP, choose RP that looks like it would be harmless to me, and not try to change or police people. If I enter an RP and find that my partner wants to do subjects that bother me, it is on me to let them know that I can’t do that, and go find somebody else. 

Me reblogging this post is in no way saying that I expect the masses to bow to my whims.

“Learn to separate IC/OOC or don’t RP at all” is a toxic rhetoric that takes away people’s agency to protect themselves. I’m talking specifically about group dynamics where you’re already friends with everyone, and you think it’s safe to simply opt out of this one thing that bothers you. Not trying to change everyone, not expecting eggshells, just trying to get along. Did you know that’s a normal thing to do? Have conversations and try to find a common ground?

Or is that something archaic, something from the old days when you couldn’t just block the people at your school or church or job, or whatever club you belonged to…? At one time, it was expected that you make a few reasonable attempts to get along with people that you wanted to hang out with anyway. It was normal and fine, and if it didn’t work, then you would quietly leave, and life would go on. 

Also, as an aside… black and white thinking is classified as something problematic. “Follow my perceptions of what it means to separate IC and OOC or get out” is very black and white. It devolves into something sinister, fueled by laziness, greed, and entitlement. It ditches personal responsibility and breeds this idea that anyone asking to have conversations and compromise MUST be toxic, manipulative, and expecting ALL to bow to their whims. 

I’ve gone through enough therapy to know that it’s not MY attitude that’s horse shit.

IF SOMEONE TELLS YOU THAT SOMETHING IS A PROBLEM, YOU DROP THE PROBLEM.

YOU DO NOT PERSIST.

RP is meant to be handled maturely. And it angers me, SEVERELY, when people do not handle it maturely at all. Because we are all meant to be living, breathing, thinking human beings. Just because a person doesn’t like the thing you do? Doesn’t mean you have to keep shoving it at their throats.

It’s not about “expecting someone to change”. It is about expecting COMMON FUCKING COURTESY and being able to understand when a person says “Hey. Look. This thing? It bothers me. Could we please not do that thing?” and being able to go “Oh! I didn’t know! Sure!” and moving the fuck on.

Is it fiction? Yes. But Fiction can hurt just as badly for those who have suffered as anything in the real world can.

Is it a fantasy? Yes. But shouldn’t fantasy also be free of the same toxicity that we would normally find in our day to day lives? Or free from events that would trigger psychological breakdowns that could take people months if not YEARS to recover from?

This isn’t about the difference between In Character and Out of Character.

So i’ve been on a bit of a kick lately. And well. I have decided to make some more drinks from my personal universe. Because of a mood i have had recently called the “Cheeki Breeki” where i have wanted to consume massive … stupidly copious amounts of alcohol, i present to you the absolute final word on what the Dracicannan people view as PURE alcohol. If you have not seen the earlier creation i have made, check [ Here ] for my recipe for making the Dracicannai Gor’Kitan Cider. As a warning, this drink contains STUPID amounts of Alcohol. Do not drink it all in one go. Do not drink more than one. Moderation is absolutely advised. And now let’s get to a description of it, and the recipe ^ ^

“Kreto’Noto Shine: If there was ever to be a drink that could get as close to the “Pan-Galactic Gargle Blaster” in the history of any race across the galaxies, this is absolutely it. Kret’Noto Shine, sometimes known as Kreto’Noto Glimmer or just simply Kreto’Noto, is a very strong alcohol. The distillation process begins with the gathering of native Dracicannai herbs and mushrooms into a blend known as Korcha. Instead of drying the mixture it is instead mashed into a pulp and stuck in a carved stone bowl, in a cave, in the mountains next to open sources of Elem-Stone or E-365. The bowl is first placed in the middle of a ring of Elem-Stones and under a slow trickling stream of water. After several months, the bowl is removed and the contents are then put through a distillation process similar to Rum or Whiskey.

While Korcha tastes similar to Matcha or Green Tea from earth, Kreto’Noto tastes nowhere similar to it. It instead has a slightly sweet taste to it but also with a hint of what seems to be licorice to the concoction. However it is the strong alcohol content to the drink that gives it the name of “The Green Bonfire”. It is comparable to Moonshine but far more pleasurable and alluring than the Human made rotgut. This drink is very rare and is often viewed as a precious commodity to several races. A single bottle of this substance could even buy your way into at least one, if not several royal parties on distant planets. As such it has become a popular and highly sought after export. And like many highly alcoholic exports it is considered heavily illegal in certain regions of space. If you ever get your hands on this substance it is advised to drink it slowly and with caution.

This drink could likely set your soul ablaze.”

-How to make your own Kreto’Noto Shine-

Ingredients:

A bottle or can of Normal Mountain Dew

Some Absinthe

Some clear Moonshine

Some Aged Rum (Must not be Black Rum)

Some Melon Liquor

Directions:

Use a glass about the size i have shown above in the picture. It is not recommended that you use a bigger glass. Trust me on this. Your glass should be close to half the size of a normal drinking glass. Do not attempt with anything larger.

Fill the glass half full with crushed ice.

Add in about half a shot full of Moonshine into the glass.

Add in almost 75% or half a shot and a quarter of Absinthe into the glass

Add an almost full shot of Aged Rum into the glass

Add a full shot and a quarter of a shot of Melon Liquor into the glass. The rum and Melon Liquor will dampen the blow from the rest of the ingredients, and bring out the flavor/color of the drink.

Add in Mountain Dew to the rest of the glass, or until practically full. Try not to add too much. You can use the rest later to add to the drink (highly recommended)

Stir your glass with the back end of a spoon and enjoy once mixed!

This is probably the most alcohol you may ever consume in your lifetime. However i am also highly excited at how well this drink came out! I was halfway afraid that none of this would mix well and that there would be “waves” to everything when making this drink. To my absolute shock and joy everything blended together smoothly. There will be a “kick” to it on the first go. However it will be a smooth kick, not at all like Moonshine or Absinthe. It will be a very pleasant and surprising motion that will make you have a small jig in delight of how well it came together. Sometimes it’s stuff like this that make me the most happy with how well it all comes together. If you’re not fond of anything remotely tasting like Licorice, give this a hard pass. There is that taste to the drink, and that mostly comes from the Absinthe. However everything else levels the flavor out and it is a surprisingly good mixture. Do note that you should not drink more than one. After having the one drink i was completely intoxicated. And that was pretty much after half the drink was done. So drink with moderation and caution!

Things are pretty desperate, and I have searched and searched with only a couple of potential leads. Please, if you or anyone you know has knowledge about help for battered women in South America (Brazil), or immigration law knowledge for the US, drop me a line. She has until Friday to figure out what to do. After that, she’s very likely going to be homeless.

More under the cut. 

(please don’t mind the brightness of the picture)

So i’ve been thinking and pondering lately to take a stab at making a unique mixed drink from my story universe, the Kohart universe. And i figured that one of the most Iconic things would be a popular drink from Dracicanna known as Gor’Kitan Cider (spelled Gorkitan in some earlier drafts). What i’ll do is give you a little passage of what exactly Gor’Kitan Cider is, and then tell you how to make it ^ o ^

“Gor’Kitan Cider: This Alcoholic drink is made from the fruit of a certain type of tree indigenous to Dracicanna. The “Sweet Tree”, or Kre’Gor, is one of the few fruit bearing trees on the planet. Many describe the fruit as being similar to a cross between a Pomegranate, an Orange, Mango, and a touch of Apple all rolled into one fruit. This fruit and it’s sweetness have become a very popular item of trade and export both on and off world, and even across galaxies. The translated name of course shows how ironic this is. For Gor’Kitan actually translates to “Sweet Fruit”. The fruit itself has been used to make many things. From Wines to Ciders to sweet candies and treats made from both the fruit and the peel. A one of a kind drink from a one of a kind fruit from the Andromeda galaxy.”

-How to make your own Gor’Kitan Cider-

Ingredients:

1 bottle of Pomegranate Juice

1 bottle of Mango juice (if you get the Pom Pomegranate and Mango combination you can skip this step)

1 bottle of Strongbow Cider (while i would’ve loved to try it with the Honey flavor, the original format will do, however you can try all of them and see how it changes the taste!)

Some Gran Gala

Directions:

Select a size of glass for your drink. I used a smaller glass, almost the size of a coffee mug, but you can select a larger glass if you wish.

Fill the glass with a small amount of crushed ice. About a quarter of the glass will do. However if you feel like being traditional/fancy you can use shaved ice instead.

Fill the glass almost halfway with Pomegranate and Mango juice. Be careful and make sure you have an even amount of both juices. DO NOT MIX. Just fill it till you are halfway.

Add in either half a shot, a full shot, or two shots of Gran Gala. This depends on the size of the glass. For my glass i used about Half a shot. You may want to use two shots if you are bumping it up to a normal glass. However no more than two shots are recommended.

Fill the rest of the glass with your Strongbow Cider.

Mix your drink with the back end of a spoon. Don’t use the head of the spoon to keep the drink from spilling. But mix it until you have a nice reddish pink color to the drink itself.

Enjoy!

>>> Pinxie is now accepting commissions! <<<

I’ve mulled over these adjustments for a very long time. I’ve got new offerings, new prices, clearer guides and, hopefully, some very interesting options! 

The one I want to call the most attention to is my new clothing design option. It’s in its infancy as a commission offering, so only a few models are available as examples. However, any WoW race is offered, and any body type can be created on demand. 

I’m doing all of my orders by form this time; please use the form found on my official website to get in touch with me. 

Not everyone is comfortable with doing that sort of thing and it should be a decision that needs to be respected. Not looked down on or even regarded as an “alien” concept. Now a lot of this stems from the way society is wired and it’s honestly an archaic concept. It’s this mindset of “well these people/characters like each other, obviously they need to have sex!” and all of that noise. And again, i’m not going to lie or say that i’m above that. I do have those thoughts from time to time if not often. However i know better than to force things. Yes i will prod every now and then but if a person isn’t comfortable with that, then they arn’t comfortable with that.

Anxiety can do a lot when it comes to Roleplay or even anything else. So if doing that makes you anxious then you shouldn’t do it. And no one should force you to do so, and even then no one should brow beat you for doing so. Everyone Roleplays they way they want to. Some like to just engage in carnal desire and others just like to have a nice story or world build. There is room for both and both should be accepted and welcomed. And honestly that should be the mindset of everyone. Just because ERP or Sex Roleplay doesn’t happen, doesn’t mean that there can’t be touching interactions or moments of sincerity. It doesn’t mean that a person is less of a Roleplayer, nor should they be treated as though they are in some way handicapped. It’s a conscious choice and it’s often a choice of comfort and trust.

That’s my two cents for everyone who Roleplays and feels like they are in this situation. Cause everyone deserves to Roleplay. Aside from people who abuse others through Roleplay. Cause i have seen that shit.

Reblog and see who leaves you a kiss in your ask box. ;)

captainrasmot:

doom–slayer:

It was another quiet day at Watchpoint: Gibraltar.  The DOOM Marine once again found himself isolated on an exterior part of the base, overlooking the Alboran Sea as he lost himself within his thoughts.

It was nice to have a moment of peace and quiet.  He never thought it possible after the constant battles he had fought against the minions of Hell.  Every second of his life was a fight for survival, killing and maiming demon after demon.

It was a burden he chose, but after the mess Samuel Hayden had caused on Mars, unearthing the Slayer and unleashing Hell’s forces, killing thousands of humans…

What he would give to tear Hayden apart piece… by piece.

The DOOM Marine suddenly pulled himself out of his thoughts as a noise came from behind him.  Nothing loud, but like that of a footstep.

He had a feeling his isolation wouldn’t last very long.  The Watchpoint was always under a constant patrol.  Keeping his arms crossed and his head down, the DOOM Marine continued to keep to himself as company would join him.

((Hi! This is my Sci-Fi RP blog, just in case you’re confused i also run shadowsofflame, and when i saw your blog i decided to use this starter you tossed out there xD; I hope you don’t mind! But you can check the “Character info” on the main page of this blog, i am using the one that most fits the Overwatch Universe, Tom Neumann.))

“So wait, why are we here again?”

There was a deep sigh inside his mind. “I told you, dip shit, we’re here to see if we can get some of those fancy thrusters that Overwatch made.”

“While i get that, why Overwatch thrusters? Weren’t the ones made by the director supposed to be “Superior to everything created” or some shit like that?”

This time there was a short laugh. “He wishes. I told him about the flaws in that thruster system myself, and you saw how well they held up. Nothin’ but god damn shakes like fuckin’ shingles.”

“Ugh, good point. Let’s just find some and get the hell out of here … apparently some of the members of Overwatch come back here from time to time … and i don’t want to be shrek’d by a gorilla today.”

A snicker sounded from his skull. “What? No dicks out for Harambe?”

“Shut up Pallas.”

Tom groaned and rolled his eyes as he continued to walk slowly throughout the facility. At least the A.I in his head wasn’t being TOO much of an asshole today. But he was extremely hesitant to walk into Watch Point Gibraltar after setting the experimental “Exo-Frame” down in a secluded area. Which was a lot more work than he realized. The entire Exo-Frame constantly shook and jittered when even putting a small fraction of thrust to the entire thing, and it only gets worse when going any Mach speed.

It’s days like this that he wished he could just pull a Robo-Cop and just slap a jet-pack to his back. But no such luck in that regard.

Continuing forward he activated the air cushioning for the feet of his suit. The large bulky suit of powered armor was now far more stealthy and quiet than it should be. In fact that was the entire point of most of the suit systems, stealth. Project Titan was not meant to be a well known project at all but instead a secret weapon. Pretty much like a far more secret and black ops version of the Manhattan Project. Just with genetically altered and cybernetic augmented kids with Powered Armor that runes on a Micro-Fusion generator capable of flattening maybe 5 city blocks or more if it went critical. You know, the type of thing that would give Geneva both a heart attack and a fit of frothing seizures at the sight of.

And that was the one thing he sucked at reminding himself of. How not to be seen. Though he was pretty good at stealth, there would always be one or two times where he would just be visible enough to catch a glimpse of. Tom shook his head as he continued to walk through the facility. He stopped for a moment to glance upwards with a slight smile widening on his face. There hanging up above in near completion was a space shuttle. The allure of going to space and being among the stars was seemingly engraved into his veins. A sense of excitement would flood his senses whenever he saw a space shuttle, or see astronaut suits, or even a good old fashioned rocket. He even respected and admired the scientist, Winston. The “man”? was fairly good in his area of expertise. Space and space flight. And while Tom would love to meet him, he had a guy feeling it wouldn’t be on the best of terms.

With a slight sigh he pushed on, moving in a light jog. There had to be a computer center or some such around here. Someplace he could find either schematics or a inventory of thrusters that he could replace the Exo-Frame with. And when he can do that, he can travel the world. Provided he makes sure to fuel both his suit and the damn Exo-Frame. But still.

His gait came to a screeching halt as his eyes widened.

At the top of a flight of stairs was someone in armor. And while it looked vaguely similar to his own it was … different. As though it was sleeker and more modern but also with a number of features either chopped off or replaced. And even then it seemed … off. An aura of foreboding and dread seemed to hang over the suit itself. But that only magnified his fears. Was this one of the others from his project? one of the other test subjects? Or was this a different project all together? a Modernized and streamlined version to replace Project Titan? And if the sense of dread was not created through some property of ESP, then what?

Before Tom had even a second to react or do anything, the speakers of his own suit started to instantly play a song. Tom blinked twice.

“Really Pallas? Really? You have to pull THAT out. Right fuckin’ now?”

At first it was the small footstep.  Then, something clicked on.

Was that… music?

This was not what he needed during his moment of peace.  The DOOM Marine was already quaking with anger in his current situation, that he didn’t need to be bothered.

When he turned around, he found another man.  However, it appeared that this person was donned in power armor as well.  It was unlike the Slayer’s Praetor Suit, as it seemed more streamlined.  Much like the UAC’s Elite Guards before they were slaughtered by Hell’s Demons.

Something seemed odd, however.  He didn’t seem to register as a friendly in his helmet’s HUD.  He had dossiers of Overwatch downloaded into the Preator Suit’s databanks, and nothing popped up on the figure in front of him.

That music was starting to irritate him.  If this were an intruder…

Maybe it was time to let out some steam.

The DOOM Marine cracked his knuckles before walking towards the armored figure.  With a charging swing, he launched a punch right next to the man’s head, denting the steel wall behind him, making a loud *GONG* that no doubt terrified this person.

The Hellwalker brought his opaque visor close to the man’s eyes, to where one could just barely see the cold, blue eyes of the Doom Slayer.

“Pallas. How about we do as the man says. And please shut off the music.” Tom said very calmly.

A grunt was emitted from the speakers before the music was shut off. He nearly let out a sigh of relief, but the figure in front of him gave him pause. Tom took one side-step, away from the armored figure, before tilting his head slightly. The reflective visor of the helmet didn’t show anything. It was for all intents and purposes like looking at a mirror. Now that he had a good line of sight with what he was dealing with, Tom tried to figure out what it exactly WAS that he was dealing with.

The eyes underneath were human, so it was in fact a human operator of the suit, or at least humanoid? Even with the current levels of tech available, to be able to throw that type of a punch would require augmentation on the level of his own. That or it was MORE advanced than anything seen before . . . which would be absolutely ludicrous. But not far fetched. Talon always had a program or two from what he gathered . . . and there is the fact that Talon may just be lap dogs. But something on this scale? And then there’s the fact that he was here in an Overwatch station. Not exactly something Talon would repeat twice. Not that that they wouldn’t TRY to . . . but still.

No that didn’t answer the feeling of dread . . . and now anger? Tom furrowed his brows inside of his helmet. This guy was giving off incredibly big bad vibes, something he only felt with a person with Telepathic abilities. Was he even human anymore? He zoomed in on the suit itself. It was built for space, or at least for hazardous atmospheres. Even more than that it looked like it could probably take an absolute stomping if possible. There were of course letters and numbers, specifically the D-22 printed on parts of the suit . . . but then there was something else. A sigil of some kind, a rune? Maybe some sort of new age tattoo? no . . . there was more to it than that. The neck guard was smart, made Tom wish he had one of his own to be purely honest. He had to admit that had he not been in his suit, he’d be a little terrified.

His right eye became a bright red as Pallas spoke into his skull. “What? You’re scared of the mother fuckin’ Doom guy? You should be~”

“. . . Doom guy? The fuck are you talking about?” Tom turned his head to one side, as though he actually and fully WAS talking to himself. “All i know is this guy has a lot of damn armor. Also, stop reading my thoughts! That’s very very very disturbing.”

There was a snicker. “See, i knew i should’ve pushed the Director more to feed you psychopaths some good old classic games. Also, you’d know if i was reading your mind, brah.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake” Tom put one hand over the visor of his helmet. “What the entire flying fuck are you talking about?”

A long, slow, drawn out, and very tired sigh echoed in his skull. “See, if you spent more time actually doing something to sharpen your skills instead of oggling some korean chick-”

“Okay, for one. Her name is Hana Song, or D.Va.” Tom put both hands on his hips, looked at the Doom Marine and turned away slightly lowering his voice to a whisper. “And for two, have you seen her piloting skill? I mean she’s incredibly cute and all, but . . . god. DAMN.”

Laughter roared in his skull. “Man oh MAN are you fuckin’ whipped! Hahahaha! No wonder your ass can’t get fuckin’ laid!”

“You know what, Fuck you. This is neither the time or place to question that sort of shit, and i am not going to pull a YOU and force myself on her.”

The laughter ended before a growl came into his mind. “You are lucky i need your ass alive.”

“. . .” Tom rubs the sides of his helmet. “Let’s just drop it okay? So what? Are you saying this guy is . . . from a game?”

A loud groan came from Pallas. “No you idiot! I am saying this guy is dressed UP like the guy from the games, or at least has a very very convincing cosplay. Fuck it could even be an Omnic. But he looks metal as FUCK.”

“. . . There are days where i want you removed from my brain. This is all of those days fucking combined.”

Before Tom could actually say a word of greeting to the Doom Marine, the entire facility suddenly went into emergency mode. Red lights started blaring, alarms sounding. And multiple computer screens brought up not only the armored figure in front of the Doom Marine, but also his face outside of the armor itself. Revealing a very young man, more like a kid than a trained soldier. Various warrants and bounties started trailing down the screens. From the CIA, DoD, FBI, NSA, KGB, SIS, even the United Nations. The name of Tom Neumann, former member of Project Titan was very visible on all of the screens. Along with a very very convincing and long line of crimes.

Tom looked at the screens, looked at the Doom Marine, the screens, and just heaved his shoulders. “I hate my life.”

“Don’t worry. I got something aaaaaall set up buddy~” The voice of Pallas, to add insult to injury came on over the speakers. “Knock ‘em dead cupcake~” As soon as Pallas stopped talking, another song burst out loud and clear from the suit speakers on repeat.

It was another quiet day at Watchpoint: Gibraltar.  The DOOM Marine once again found himself isolated on an exterior part of the base, overlooking the Alboran Sea as he lost himself within his thoughts.

It was nice to have a moment of peace and quiet.  He never thought it possible after the constant battles he had fought against the minions of Hell.  Every second of his life was a fight for survival, killing and maiming demon after demon.

It was a burden he chose, but after the mess Samuel Hayden had caused on Mars, unearthing the Slayer and unleashing Hell’s forces, killing thousands of humans…

What he would give to tear Hayden apart piece… by piece.

The DOOM Marine suddenly pulled himself out of his thoughts as a noise came from behind him.  Nothing loud, but like that of a footstep.

“So wait, why are we here again?”

There was a deep sigh inside his mind. “I told you, dip shit, we’re here to see if we can get some of those fancy thrusters that Overwatch made.”

“While i get that, why Overwatch thrusters? Weren’t the ones made by the director supposed to be “Superior to everything created” or some shit like that?”

This time there was a short laugh. “He wishes. I told him about the flaws in that thruster system myself, and you saw how well they held up. Nothin’ but god damn shakes like fuckin’ shingles.”

“Ugh, good point. Let’s just find some and get the hell out of here . . . apparently some of the members of Overwatch come back here from time to time . . . and i don’t want to be shrek’d by a gorilla today.”

A snicker sounded from his skull. “What? No dicks out for Harambe?”

“Shut up Pallas.”

Tom groaned and rolled his eyes as he continued to walk slowly throughout the facility. At least the A.I in his head wasn’t being TOO much of an asshole today. But he was extremely hesitant to walk into Watch Point Gibraltar after setting the experimental “Exo-Frame” down in a secluded area. Which was a lot more work than he realized. The entire Exo-Frame constantly shook and jittered when even putting a small fraction of thrust to the entire thing, and it only gets worse when going any Mach speed.

It’s days like this that he wished he could just pull a Robo-Cop and just slap a jet-pack to his back. But no such luck in that regard.

Continuing forward he activated the air cushioning for the feet of his suit. The large bulky suit of powered armor was now far more stealthy and quiet than it should be. In fact that was the entire point of most of the suit systems, stealth. Project Titan was not meant to be a well known project at all but instead a secret weapon. Pretty much like a far more secret and black ops version of the Manhattan Project. Just with genetically altered and cybernetic augmented kids with Powered Armor that runes on a Micro-Fusion generator capable of flattening maybe 5 city blocks or more if it went critical. You know, the type of thing that would give Geneva both a heart attack and a fit of frothing seizures at the sight of.

And that was the one thing he sucked at reminding himself of. How not to be seen. Though he was pretty good at stealth, there would always be one or two times where he would just be visible enough to catch a glimpse of. Tom shook his head as he continued to walk through the facility. He stopped for a moment to glance upwards with a slight smile widening on his face. There hanging up above in near completion was a space shuttle. The allure of going to space and being among the stars was seemingly engraved into his veins. A sense of excitement would flood his senses whenever he saw a space shuttle, or see astronaut suits, or even a good old fashioned rocket. He even respected and admired the scientist, Winston. The “man”? was fairly good in his area of expertise. Space and space flight. And while Tom would love to meet him, he had a guy feeling it wouldn’t be on the best of terms.

With a slight sigh he pushed on, moving in a light jog. There had to be a computer center or some such around here. Someplace he could find either schematics or a inventory of thrusters that he could replace the Exo-Frame with. And when he can do that, he can travel the world. Provided he makes sure to fuel both his suit and the damn Exo-Frame. But still.

His gait came to a screeching halt as his eyes widened.

At the top of a flight of stairs was someone in armor. And while it looked vaguely similar to his own it was . . . different. As though it was sleeker and more modern but also with a number of features either chopped off or replaced. And even then it seemed . . . off. An aura of foreboding and dread seemed to hang over the suit itself. But that only magnified his fears. Was this one of the others from his project? one of the other test subjects? Or was this a different project all together? a Modernized and streamlined version to replace Project Titan? And if the sense of dread was not created through some property of ESP, then what?

Before Tom had even a second to react or do anything, the speakers of his own suit started to instantly play a song. Tom blinked twice.

Reblog this message if you encourage anyone that wants to draw your OC to do so.  No need to ask for permission in advance.

Go for it.  Draw my OC.  If you want, I’ll even give you reference posts.  Go to town on it.

You are welcome to draw my OC and surprise me with the result.  Seriously.  In fact, I encourage it.  I will proudly display whatever it is you submit to me regarding my OC.  There is a chance that I will squeal about it for several days.

The evening was proving to be quite full; she hadn’t counted on being asked to dance so many times. Breathless as she made her escape, grabbing up a fluted glass from the tray of a passing servant, she wet her lip and dry mouth. The liquid was palest pink and bubbly; it melted like sugar on her tongue when she took the first delicate sip, notes of fruit and spirits. It fizzed down her throat warmly and brought a flush of color to her flesh right up to the slightly elongated points of her ears.

Pressing a gloved hand to her mouth she kept the giggle building in her stomach from escaping like the bubbles in her drink. She felt warm from more than just the champagne, her skin slightly damp, she didn’t rightly remember the last dance she’d attended. Well, a social dance that involved civility, genteel smiles and political prancing.

There had been other forms of dancing.

Her mind vaguely dredged up visions of lowered lights, pulsing goblin beats and bodies closely pressed while they writhed in a pantomime of carnality. Red and white curls shook as she cleared her mind with a shake of the head. Pushing the thoughts behind her with a sigh she silently scolded herself, there was no going down that path tonight.

Taking a step backward she hadn’t been paying attention to her surroundings. She must have looked just a bit lost. A bare foot caught the edge of a cloak, the material slick and made all the worse with her lowered sense of coordination. Snapping her eyes shut she waited with bated breath for the ground to come up to meet her as she fell, but the impact never came.

Gradually dark lashes fluttered open, the warm press of another body held her safely on her feet. Tilting her head upwards warm friendly eyes meet her own a hint of laughter around his mouth as he grinned.

Was he laughing at her? Color flooded her cheeks at the clumsiness of her actions, her mouth pulling into a tight pout, her pride bristling in embarrassment.

There was a strange spike in the blood of some of the guests, some form of energy beyond the calculated norm. Every single one of the denizens of the planet had an inherent current of energy in them. From the humans down to what were called “gnomes” if he recalled. And yet with these elves there was something else in their blood. Something that made the reader jump to extreme highs whenever one came close. Almost like they were Irradiated. But that couldn’t be right could it?

Shaking his head he took a glance at the rain soaked cloak. He should have probably dried it off before stepping in from the rain. No matter. It’s not like it was that much of a danger and he had to make sure to take as many readings and logs as he could. Despite the lower tier of technology on this planet, they have been visited by creatures from not only other worlds, but that could travel faster than the speed of light. He scoffed a little as he overheard them talking about the politics between their faction, the Horde, and the so called enemies. The Alliance. A brutal blood feud between two different groups of which at one point resulted in slavery? Where exactly had he heard THAT story before? Scowling at himself he shook his head. No sense getting involved. It’s their world they’ll either wake up or self annihilate.

His eyes widened as he heard the slick squeak of the cloak as someone stepped on it. Turning just at the right moment he whipped his arm around the back of the person and slipped the device away. Blinking twice he started to smile and grin as he recognized who it was. It was the woman he met when he first arrived on this planet, the place called Azeroth. Luminarra. He chuckled at the irony of it all. The fact that she couldn’t tell who he was just made it all the more amusing to him. And then she asked for a dance. Were his head not hidden his cheeks would have been obviously flushed. But it seemed like that’s what she had been doing the entire night. With a smirk he lowered his head towards one of her ears.

The air seemed to shimmer at the edge of her vision, sent a chill up her spine as she pushed off Rasmot’s arm and spun herself around to face towards him. Her timing had been off, her reactions sluggish between the burn of alcohol and the physical exertion of dancing the evening away in frivolity. A gloved hand flashed out as she caught the dagger midflight on a trajectory towards her brazen new companion’s chest. The blade bit into the glove and left a nick across her palm as it slide across her grip until her fingers could grasp the pommel. She counted herself lucky it had had no guard to interrupt the seizer.

Perfectly still, she held herself there, blue eyes darkening as she lowered her head, arm extended out with the weapon. Very slowly Lumi moved the limb off towards the side, the muscles taut. Tension sang up her spine, her small body shaking a moment in anger and it was a sobering thing.  Somewhere in all the flurry the wine flute had been forgotten and tossed away.

Blue fire flashed in her eyes as she held the dagger aloft, the voice that rolled from that dainty mouth a touch rough at the edges and bled through with a heavier hint of her Gilnean accent, “Ya are dismiss’d, Night. Be gone from mah presence.”  Uncurling her fingers she allowed the blade to drop, but where it should have hit the floor it was swallowed by inky blackness.  Another faint waver of movement and then the world settled, the music from the band filled the empty space between Lumi and the alien she’d had the pleasure of meeting once before.

Blinking slowly, her mood shifted just as the situation had, her eyes softening at the man’s familiar appearance. A brilliant smile replaced the frown and she stepped closer to Rasmot’s looming stature. Stretching on tip-toes her hands found his face, graceful fingers caressing the line of his cheek bones to hold him, to guide him downward as she rose to meet him.

A tingle of energy filled her fingers, gave them a soft blue glow that would have been a marginal heat to the bare flesh where her gloved fingers made contact. Ghosting across his mouth she hovered there, breathed out her mana like a sweet perfume. The lips moved but said nothing, the spell coiling out to skim the surface of his body like a second set of armor. She wove her illusion carefully, her mannerisms hidden in the shadow of his hood so that the normal passerby would have only thought it an innocent enough kiss.

She didn’t even know if the glamour would hold with his alien physiology, but if it held should the hood be forced away the man would have taken on the appearance of a full blooded Sin’dorei male with the very same colorations.  The duration being a few hours at best or until she broke it. If it held.

“Permission grant’d, friend,” whispered quietly before the spell came to full fruition and her mouth connected. A soft and affectionate offering lingering only for a few haunting seconds more before she stood back a blush across her cheeks.

When she brought his head down he stared into her eyes and watched the whispers of blue arcane energy float about his face. Just barely noticeable underneath his clothing, a purple shimmer came from a necklace. That was what he was looking for and he fumbled to pull out the device and take readings as she coated him with the disguise. He was able to take some satisfying readings and put the device away as he closed his eyes and the new disguise took hold. As the spell was woven, the illusion seemed to morph instead of becoming something like a mask it was almost temporary. As though his entire body was changing in some way. The pain was thankfully less than transitioning to his true form.

The hood actually fell away to reveal the full on changes when the longer ears pressed against the back of the hood. She would be able to see through the disguise with some concentration. For others, unless they were really skilled Magi and were focusing? they’d barely be able to tell he was not one of them at all. It of course was temporary and the slight fading glow of the necklace indicated as much. They probably had a few good hours at most. Just like the old days. The kiss she gave before the hood fell away brought a blush to his cheeks, the disguise making it a crimson of course. If anything, his hair was also slightly longer with the disguise, two long lengths making something like bangs on either side of his head.

Luminarra let herself be swept out to the dance floor once again for the umpteenth time that night. There were no complaints, she was thoroughly enjoying herself. But this had been a face she hadn’t expected to see, well, not so soon after their last encounter. A smirk set to her lips as she raised the hand resting lightly on his shoulder up to caress across the sharper angled cheekbone of his bone deep disguise.

“Nice trick,” she finally managed, mesmerized by the duality of her vision the newer features overlaying the older. She clicked her tongue against her teeth, a smirk gracing her features, “I think I prefer your ‘other’ self.” Flashing him a shameless smile she tapped his lips before putting her hand back into its proper place within the dance. But even as she said it the color rushed to her cheeks and the very tips of her ears with the stirring of the too recent memory.

A soft shiver went up her spine as she pressed her face forward enough to take in a deep breath and his scent with it, “I’d be mindful though, the Forsaken would love ya’. In more ways than one if ya’ get my drift.” A faint incline of her head would have directed his vision should he have followed her lead to a group of undead off toward the lefts of them conversing avidly about the frivolity of such endeavors.

The humor hadn’t bled out of her eyes yet as she stuck her tongue out at him in a playful manner, “But I don’ think I’m inclined to share ya’ tonigh’.”

“I would ask what you mean by that … as far as i can tell they don’t seem to be the type interested in mutual conversations.” He smirked and whispered into her ear. “But as far as sharing, i don’t think i will let you out of my grasp either … unless you wish it.”

A small simple motion parted them as he gently twirled Luminarra with one hand, spinning her slowly and gently before pulling her into his arms. Despite years of rust, he still had some of the practice he had done drilled into his head. And this was going far better than the first ever dance he had in the Orsina palace. He smiled warmly however to Luminarra and pressed a kiss to her cheek. Enjoying in her fragrance as she took in some of his own scent. The smell of Cinnamon was tangible, along with a sort of berry scent. Almost close to a cherry or strawberry. But it wasn’t so much sweet as it was soothing. As though it was meant to warm the soul. And then there was the scent of natural herbs of various types. Sage and nutmeg.

A very colorful string of words left the dainty woman’s mouth in the tongue of her father. His translator would have picked up bits and pieces of something to do with orcs, mothers and unmentionably devious bodily positioning. And just as suddenly as the words had left her mouth she began to fall forward, eyes impossibly wide, forced into silence. Every limb locked up, frozen and refused to work as she willed them to move, the panic filled her ears with the rushing of her own blood.

Poisoned, of course the dagger had been poisoned; it had been Night after all. Silently she prayed to whatever deity that might be listening that it was merely a paralytics and not something more lethal.  

Stupid girl. Lumi’s thoughts betrayed her, she knew she should have been more concerned before but the temptations of the man next to her side had been too much to ignore. It had all been too much indulgence, too much extravagance. “Couldn’t have anything for free” the voice spoke with a laugh inside her head, “pay the price”.

Finally he found the one he was looking for. From her angle she could briefly see alien glyphs on the screen before they turned into Common horde symbols and reversed so she could read them as well as he could. At the top the screen were the words “patient status” and next to it in flashing read was the word “Critical”. Rasmot read through the entire status readout in an instant. The holographic screen dancing as he checked through all of her vitals and found the problem. With a glance to make sure no one else was coming he set the hand held device to one side and pulled out a pouch from underneath his cloak. Nimble fingers produced two vials. One with a earthly brown substance and the other with a red allure like blood. From the pouch he also produced a some sort of device like a gun.

He quickly rammed the vial full of the brown liquid into the port at the back. A click and hiss was instantly heard as he pressed the nozzle against her neck. There was no prick or feeling of pain, just a dull hiss and a creeping warming sensation flooding her veins. He pulled out the vial revealing only a quarter of the contents were used and pushed in the red vial. This one he administered for longer and pulled away to reveal almost 75% of the vial was depleted from use. The first sensation mixed in with the second chemical and created a tingling sensation all throughout her body. Like every pore and every hair on her body was lighting up with static electricity. He put the vials and injector gun away and picked up the hand held device.

A smile crept onto his face as the readout said “Toxin neutralized, patient recovery expected shortly.” He pushed the button on the side and placed the device back under the cloak and placed a hand softly on her cheek. With a nod he gently helped her back onto her feet and made sure she found her own footing without much of his help, just holding and helping her upright.

Gradually the feeling returns to her limbs, starting as a tingling in the fingers and the toes and then spreading outward throughout the rest of her limbs until every last trace of the paralyzing agent was neutralized. It took several more long moments before she could stand once again on her own and then to speak, her voice coming out a tad softer than she’d intended, “I hate bein’ indebted but thank ya’ kindly for actin’ so…”

A smirk had pulled at the edges of her lips, the cool night air making her shiver as a droplet of sweat slithered down across her bare back and into the low hem of her scanty party gown. She just managed to finish the comment before leaning heavily upon the railing of the balcony they’d taken shelter in against the noise and wandering eyes, “quickly.”

A flush of color rose in her cheeks as the warmth spread with languid hands through her veins with the workings of whatever herbal and medicinal concoction he’d injected straight into her blood.  Luminarra still felt heavy, the weariness of the night taking its toll on her small body. Flashing him a weak smile she summoned up a small crystal with the twist of a hand, pulling mana from her surroundings and condensing it into the object of her desire.

Bringing it to her lips, she breathed out another working of blue threaded magic activating the crystal with a bell like chime and a hum. Another gesture and a small explosion of flames called into being a phoenix just big enough to seat two. There was strength enough still in her to vault the railing and take to the air.

An elegant swoop had the great bird catching Lumi effortlessly, tired and worn it took her a bit of effort to arrange herself properly side saddled and all the way forward to make room for Rasmot.  Carefully leaning over she offered a small gloved hand to the alien and a tender smile, “Join me for a flight? I’ll even let ya’ holds the reigns.”

And it was close to their location.

“How high does it go? what’s the altitude range?” He began as he climbed over the railing in one smooth motion.

It was almost practiced how well he landed onto the back of the phoenix. As though this type of thing was natural to him on some level or was natural to him. Rasmot made sure to seat himself as close forwards as possible, mostly to prevent the hostess from falling off. Taking one glance at his device before putting it away and swirling and swerving his head quickly before he found the right direction.