Born From Darkness

★★★★★★★★★★  — close combat ★☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆  — bladed weapons ( swords, dagger/s ) ★★☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆ — blunt weapons ( club/s, staffs )   ☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆ — ranged weapons ( archery, gun/s ) ★★★★★★★★★★  — superpowers / abilities ★★★★★★★★★★  — traps/setups ★☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆  — medic

any lasting injuries from combat? ) —

ultio has scars from when he was just a chestburster and got into a fight with clan of space rats in the ventilation system- they are mostly a bunch of rough shapes on his hide that look like fixed cracks. he also has a wound from a crowbar between the middle tubes on his back where a working Joe android stabbed him during a fight once, and a series of small indentations in his rib area from being shot repeatedly with primitive human weapons from before the pulse rifle age. none of these really impede him, but the space rat scars really piss him off.

fighting style?   ( bold any that apply. )  — commander / duelist / honorable / dishonorable / would have others do their fighting / stealthy / long-ranged / melee / technological / sorcery / superhuman abilities / has fought in a tourney / a lover of fighting / a hater of fighting / cowardly / reckless / strategic / uses underhand tricks / renowned for their skill / trained / untrained / keeps skill secret / won a battle / lost a battle /  ruthless / merciful

What’s your OTP for your Muse?:  Ultio/Marlowe would be the closest thing to an OTP, if not for the fact he’s going to kill Marlowe someday.

What are you willing to RP when it comes to shipping?:  Almost anything. Ultio’s nature makes it a necessity to be adventurous with my RP.

How large does the age gap have to be to make it uncomfortable?:   I really don’t care about age gaps, personally.

Are you selective when shipping?:  I’m not super selective, but there has to be chemistry between our characters. 

How far do steamy moments have to go before they’re considered NS.FW?:  I will probably tag NSFW as soon as things start to head towards heavy petting.

Who are other muses you ship your muse with?: I ship Ultio with his ‘mates’ Bourne and Marlowe, obviously, but I’m willing to ship with plenty of others, too.

Does one have to ask to ship with you?:  I’m okay with it evolving organically without me being asked, but if someone tries to force it in-thread, Ultio will probably attack.

How often do you like to ship?:  I like shipping quite a bit honestly but I hardly ever do it because I’m too shy to ask about it.

Are you multiship?:  I am multiship, and its either in terms of multiverse or not, because Ultio does not mate for life, his instincts motivate him to form as many connections as possible.

Are you ship obsessed or ship more-or-less?: I’m probably more or less shippy, because I like to ship, but I don’t want it to take over my blog or anything, obviously.

What is your favorite ship in your current fandom?: David 8/Walter is fun right now, but Hudson/Hicks is definitely an old favorite of mine.

Finally, how does one ship with you?: Just ask me about it! I’ll be glad to talk it over. :)

▌face claim  •  Xenomorph or Shemar Moore ▌name •   Ultio ▌age •  ??? ▌height • nearly nine feet as a Xenomorph, six feet and five inches as a “human” ▌species  • xenomorph ▌gender  • male ▌birthday •  ??? ▌sun sign • ??? ▌residence •  Agartha, a city drifting in deep space ▌marital status  •  single, but considers himself ‘mated’ to Marlowe and Bourne ▌alignment • chaotic evil ▌drink  •   blood, water

▌food •  meat

fluffy white nimbus clouds.   dark grey cumulonimbus clouds.   rainclouds.   a hurricane.   light spring breeze.   a sherbet-colored sky at sunrise.   hazy yellow skies. deep blue ponds of fresh water.   blankets of sparkling snow.   tornado winds.  monsoon flooding.   rich, orange sunsets.  soft, purple clouds at dusk.  heavy hail.   the rumbling of thunder.   icy sleet.  gentle snowfall. moss-dusted tree bark.   pink sunset clouds.   grey winter skies.  navy blue skies in the daytime.  cool mist in the morning.   leaf-bare trees.   giant ocean waves.   the full moon.  a cracked, dry desert.   rolling hills of prairie grass.   sweeping waves of briny seawater.   rocky, steep ravines.  rippling canyon walls.   spindly, cave stalactites.   creeping, green ivy.   lush canopies of leafy trees.   dense, white fog. a peaceful creek of clear water.   flowering cacti dusted with dew, catching light in the morning sun.   a bubbling, hot pool of volcanic sulfur.   sharp, grey mountainsides.   fossils nestled in chunks of rock.  a white sand beach.   deep imprints of animal tracks in the dirt.  soft, squishy moss.   uniform rows of birch trees in winter.  delicate mushrooms popping up in spring from beneath the decay on the forest floor. tumbleweeds jerking in the faintest wind across the desert landscape. light rain. summer wildfires.  a mixing of hot and cool air before a storm.  silent lightning in the static of summer heat. a windy blizzard. thick flakes of snow tumbling down from the sky. a tree standing alone in a barren, yellow field. a desert of loose sand and tall, orange dunes.   a pure blue sky.  a river of molten rock.   a grove of flowering trees.   twisting, mangled roots sticking up from the muddy ground.  bitter, cold winds.  tumultuous skies of stormy clouds. branches of lightning ripping across the sky.   a foggy swamp.   the tree-bare foothills of a mountain range.   sandy brown cliffsides.   rocky coastlines.   the violent shaking of an earthquake.   the mysterious sound of ethereal trumpets in the sky. the lights of the auroras borealis and australis.  a black sand beach.   a lone tropical island in the reef of shallow,   aqua waters.   underwater volcanic vents.   a herd of migrating mammals. tree branches growing heavy with ripe fruit.   light streaming down through the clouds.   a field of lush grain wading peacefully in the summer breeze.   the sound of insects and frogs teeming in the night.  natural diamonds nestled in coarse desert sands. a frozen lake.

tagged by: @chariotsofthegodsman

So he considers himself smart enough to perceive a certain instinctual feeling when he is being hunted, and he is feeling that now, a hot, acrid, creeping feeling of both being watched and being in danger at once- a rare thing for him, indeed, something he barely knows at all. He bares his teeth and lets a hiss forth quietly, spit dribbling in thick lines from his jaws as he slowly turns in pace, tail painting his wake like a sharpened streamer of a blade- he knows this place. It is his home, his Hive. He can defend it- will defend it- if someone has come for him, for them, for His.

Ultio hovers there in place, his tail curled in the air, wiry and stiff-strong, up on the toes of his feet, tense and prepared to move- to pounce or to lunge or to gallop, whatever need be to make the necessary distances or what have you to keep himself, and His Hive safe. He will not allow his humans or his android to be harmed- they are his, and his alone.

Ultio is aware the vents are not always the best hiding places, and he has found others, so, as he comes closer to the living thing, he descends into the wall, where his body’s shapes make him blend in with pipes and rods and shifting tubes that appear to be one with him- or, rather, him one with them, concealing him easily from sight but allowing him, as well, easier access to his victims when they pass by, with their careless invasions of his territory.

But this new living thing- it smells like something relative to a human, and yet not, and is certainly no synthetic. No, Ultio has long since grown used to the acrid-milk smell of them, the chemical scent they leave in streaks everywhere they go, poisoning the air- this smells different, alive and strange, almost foreign, even, a strange proposition to a Xenomorph that has never met a single thing that confused him.

And so he waits there, melted into the shadows, his dark armor a cloak of the artificial night as he listens both outwardly and inwardly, a mind equally as odd as its carrier drawing nearer... nearer...

aggressive | callous | cannibal | careless | compulsive | cowardly | domineering | envious | greedy | hypocritical | impatient | impolite | kidnapper | lazy | liar | lustful | materialistic | murderer | obsessive | over-critical | over-emotional | patronizing | sarcastic | self-indulgent | serial killer | torturer | touchy | traitorous | unclean | unpredictable | untidy | vain | vengeful

tagged by: @chariotsofthegodsman

1. ANIMAL. Scorpion 2. COLOR(S). Black, Grey, Brown 3. MONTH. October 4. SONG. Apex Predator, OTEP 5. NUMBER. 7 6. DAY OR NIGHT.  Night 7. PLANT.  Ivy 8. SMELL.  Metal, Blood, Sweat, Chemicals 9. GEMSTONE. Hematite 10. SEASON. Winter 11. PLACE.  Space, Mineshafts, NYC 12. FOOD. Beef 14. ELEMENT(S). Fire, Earth 15. DRINK. Blood, Water

Tagged by: @chariotsofthegodsman

A FACE YOUR MUSE MAKES WHEN HAPPY:

A FACE YOUR MUSE MAKES WHEN SAD:

A FACE YOUR MUSE MAKES WHEN THEY SEE SOMETHING THEY WANT:

A FACE YOUR MUSE MAKES WHEN THEIR BERSERK BUTTON IS PUSHED:

A FACE YOUR MUSE MAKES WHEN THEY SEE SOMEONE THEY DISLIKE:

((I would totally do this AU!! I love Noir and that whole aesthetic, as well as how easily it can be connected to the early nineteen hundreds in general. I’m a big sucker for it, especially specifically set in the twenties. :) ))

He’s born in an age of booze and gold, shadows and greys painting the world in the aftermath of the war to end all wars. He watches from the shadows, slowly growing, fed on a diet of dropped party favors and champagne dribbling over too-full rims, as women in flapper skirts dance on tables, and men sip their drinks and watch small fireworks boom in the skies. He recoils from the heat. 

He goes from a snake-like thing hiding in the cracks of the houses he slinks into to a small, cunning creature, lunging along on all fours, tearing into the rich folks’ little pets and letting them think it was the neighbors’ beasts instead. He sows strife and violence and he likes it, slinking between shadowy places. Detectives wander lazily through at his more severe antics, sticks between their teeth, between their lips, producing heat and smoke that he recoils from with dislike, always fleeing faster than he could be discovered when the feelings and the scents reach him. 

He transformers from a small thing into a large one, deadly and swift and unrelenting. He moves in the underbellies of giants that they build for him, roads hanging over other roads, trains roaring overhead and down below. He slinks into the tunnels and hunts down the less fortunate humans living in them, crawls onto the tracks and scurries along them until he can lunge down and collect an unsuspecting passerby. He is the danger in the annals of the infant metropolis that no one can define, perhaps the most grisly killer anyone has ever known.

He is Ultio- he is the vengeance upon them of all that came before, and he is death.