Avi, Jacana said it was fine if you oversaw my pod closure. I know I said I wouldn’t go against procedure, but I want your face to be the last thing I see in the Milky Way. You can scold me while I enter cryo. See you soon, Macen

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@hopecaged
Avi, Jacana said it was fine if you oversaw my pod closure. I know I said I wouldn’t go against procedure, but I want your face to be the last thing I see in the Milky Way. You can scold me while I enter cryo. See you soon, Macen

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@hopecaged asked: [ CUP ] for aleksis from egor ??
ALEKSIS KNOWS HE’S HOT SHIT. He’s always been hot shit; the throbbing pulse of any party, the blazing sun in everyone’s sky. He’s the alpha wolf because his howl has always led the pack, has always turned heads in blind adoration. He’s charisma personified, animal magnetism made flesh.
So when he decides to take an interest in sad, sulky Egor Serling, he expects the praise to come flowing in for a free ego-boost. Expects Egor to dote with sugar-sweet words spun like honey on his salivating tongue. Expects Egor to pepper kisses across every surface he offers whether it’s skin or plaster. Expects worship to come in the form of bended knee and devoted mouth.
What he doesn’t expect is Egor staring long and hard at his exposed face once his mask gets pulled off. In the heat of their hands grabbing and fondling in one of Frank’s coat closets, Aleksis had hoped there wouldn’t be any hesitation to lock mouths. It’s not as though Serling had been that shy about slathering kisses across the bone-white muzzle of his mask. Hell, he’d even used tongue.
But now Egor’s put a pause in the passionate exchange as broad palms cup Dorsey’s cheeks in a tenderness as foreign to him as writing checks for charity. At first, it causes him to wrinkle his nose and squint an unimpressed leer that hopefully prompts Egor to get with the goddamn program.
“Wow. Just look at you,” sighs Serling. His thumbs rub soft, slow paths along Aleksis’ cheekbones. This makes long eyelashes flicker before there’s an impatient click of The Wolf’s tongue.
“Uh, yeah? Hello? ‘Course it’s me, slut. Y’know? Big Daddy Alpha ‘bout to rock your fuckin’ world? So just–”
“Y-yeah. You.”
Him.
Aleksis.
No, not just Aleksis, but Aleksis stripped bare – a creature pried apart and laid raw. It’s a strange kind of nakedness where he’s completely clothed except for his face. A face with pretty cheekbones, come-hither lips, hungry eyes, refined bone structure, sleek jaw. There’s nothing about his face that looks “bad” in the mirrors he preens in. And, yet, the more he’s stared into the reflection of his human face and traced each detail, each birthmark, each line, the more it’s looked (felt) wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong.
The wolf’s face, though, fits into all the seams where his man’s face doesn’t. Rather than prickle unpleasantly like his features are smeared into a blur of static, his lupine likeness fills the gaps and voids and glitches that he glimpses in too many reflections. His beauty has never been in question, but the weakness of wearing a face that doesn’t match the savage hunter of his wolf’s soul? An agony he could never explain, an unsettling confusion that had pimpled itself a blemish into a life meant only to splay immaculate.
So to be without his true face – his true self – curls his lip with the consideration to maul Egor’s mouth until he gets the picture. Because he just keeps staring and smiling. Smiling like he’s only done once before and it had been whilst beholding the Anomaly.
That’s when it clicks. Egor can see the truth that eludes all others – can glimpse what is both man and wolf, both beast and billionaire. He sees the fur where it isn’t, the ears that would be better pointed, the fangs shining where they should be. It’s all there, mapped out in the eyes that gleam bright behind tinted lenses. The eyes of someone cherishing what is special, what is rare, what is sacred.
A whisper escapes Aleksis before he can help it. “…Me?”
“You.” Egor’s thumb strokes down the fresh part of his lips. For once, Aleksis must look like a deer in the headlights with his gaze so hazily transfixed. Like he’s lost momentarily in those wide eyes, that dumb smile, the face marked up in too many stupid band-aids.
O-ow! Leks, c-care– careful? You– You’re like a wolf when you bite like that. Ow…
The memory plucks at something Aleksis is incapable of naming. And it presses him suddenly closer with an actural snarl in his throat, needing to crush his mouth onto Egor’s with ravenous intent, with heated vigor. With a legitimate hunger that tastes the lamb on his teeth and abruptly wishes he could savor his iron sweetness impossibly deeper. Wants that reverent stare burned into his being, into lusting meat and bone.
“Me–” he sighs, smearing the word again and again into Egor’s mouth between kisses as he throws his arms around his neck. There’s the clatter of his mask hitting the floor and he doesn’t even notice.
‘𝚃𝙷𝙸𝙽𝙶𝚂 𝙳𝙾𝙽𝙴 𝚆𝙷𝙸𝙻𝙴 𝙺𝙸𝚂𝚂𝙸𝙽𝙶’ 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙼𝙿𝚃𝚂.
@hopecaged said: [ WAIST ] from egor 🥲
In one forgotten cycle (among many, many, many forgotten cycles), they decide to build a Rube-Goldberg machine. It spirals through the entirety of Condition Detachment, level by level, from the top floor to ground. With the day always guaranteed to reset itself, the machine is the work of gradual planning over the course of sixteen loops, until they had created a process streamlined enough to assemble it in the span of an hour.
It begins, as much Rube-Goldberg machines do, with a marble. The marble travels down a tunnel towards a line of dominoes, which knock into a pendulum, which taps a needle, that pops a balloon, which drops the marble it had inside, and the marble falls into one of the cups on the makeshift mini-windmill, which is powered by an oscillating fan, and this process continues, getting gradually more complex as it reaches ground level.
They chase the marble down through the building. Egor is a few paces behind, not lucky enough to have a Slab that lets him teleport at will
The entire process culminates in a can of soda being snapped open, which they watch attentatively on their hands and knees at the base of the stairs. When fizz bubbles over the rim, they both explode, jumping up and screaming like fanatics at the world championship. Egor grabs him by the waist, hugging him from behind and peppering his neck and cheek and ear with kisses, rapid-fire machine guns pecks.
It’s nice. While it lasts. In a few more loops, they’ll be strangers again.
women only want one thing and its other women
immobiliter:
Why would I need one? Varric resisted the urge to sigh. At least out loud. In his head, however…
By Andraste’s Ass, he’d follow Vair to the ends of Thedas and back only to make sure he didn’t trip over his own… was it naivety? That didn’t seem like the right word. Vair was a mage; he therefore knew exactly what the world was and how it treated those like him. But there was an otherworldly-ness about him, an innocence and idealism that meant, in pursuit of the bigger picture, he lost sight of some of the details. Namely those that related to self-preservation and just general street sense. Knowing people. Knowing things. Knowing how to get specific things from specific people. That was why the two of them worked so well as a pair, he supposed.
Varric arched a brow at him from the other side of the table, a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. “ Well, no-one’s lying dead in a Lowtown alleyway for once which is more than what we normally achieve. ” He wasn’t opposed to breaking the law. How could he be in a place like Kirkwall? But he was opposed to breaking the law without any sort of plan. Since taking over his brother’s seat in the Merchant’s Guild, he’d learned a lot about covering his ass.
“ I just want to make sure we’re on the same page for when Aveline comes calling. Which she will. ” As good as she was at turning a blind eye where Hawke was concerned, Kirkwall’s Guard Captain still had a duty to the law. However difficult it was to enforce in a city like this one. “ How about we make sure your story’s water-tight so she doesn’t feel compelled to launch an investigation we would then have to carefully sabotage? ”
“That’s kind of you, to think of Aveline,” he said, mildly, following a short pause. Aveline had been good to them, after all; Aveline was practically family. Really, weren’t they all? Vair already felt more at home here, with this expanding circle of misfits, than perhaps he ever had back in Lothering. “B-but--you’re always thinking of us, aren’t you?”
Perhaps this was drifting from the original point. Still...
“Everyone is so different; there’s so much to consider. It’s--i-it must not be easy for you.” He offered a small, sympathetic smile. “You’re a good man, Varric. I’m v-very lucky.”
Vair’s hands now rested on the table, clasped but fidgeting slightly; they were hands that reached too often into the city’s gore. Kirkwall’s many lacerations were proving deeper and more complex than he’d bargained for--but, though keeping them clean wasn’t an option, Vair tried to tell himself his hands were redder from closing wounds than opening them. Just so with the invisible wounds: lies, avoidance, little betrayals.
Aveline will only worry. It’s kinder if she doesn’t know.
“Y-you’re better at this than I am. What would you tell her?”

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‘𝚃𝙷𝙸𝙽𝙶𝚂 𝙳𝙾𝙽𝙴 𝚆𝙷𝙸𝙻𝙴 𝙺𝙸𝚂𝚂𝙸𝙽𝙶’ 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙼𝙿𝚃𝚂.
@hopecaged said: [ GAZE ] from wenkie 😔
The evening winds down with the two of them on the couch, sharing a pot of decaf coffee and dessert cookies while the rest of Aeon says their goodbyes. Harriet doesn’t mind this. She likes her conversations with Wenjie, animated and furious and rousing. Few people challenge her, the way Dr. Evans does. She does not think it’s a stretch to doubt that few people challenge Dr. Evans the way Harriet does.
Wenjie is brilliant. Wenjie is infuriatingly naïve. She’s like a child who figured out how to skip rope with the hair of a giant. Their brilliant alchemist, who discovered how to synthesize the spirit realm into a distilled and measured substance. Still, in her duality, she’s ever seeking, ever searching.
(Her eyes, now, on the plush of Harriet’s lips. Seeking. Searching.)
Would Harriet be an experiment to her, too? The indulgence of a lingering curiosity? How much of Wenjie’s affection could circle back to her insatiable need to find out What If?
Harriet takes her by the chin, her thumb just barely brushing the bottom of Wenjie’s lip. She observes the physicist serenely, mirroring her fascination.
“You’re not going to get inside my head, Dr. Evans,” she whispers, before pulling her into a kiss.
forceblinded:
The conversation takes a surprising turn. Caspan’s stony expression even cracks, allowing an eyebrow to shoot up. ❛ It’s not for a lack of trying, ❜ he responds at length. In fact, the Order would recruit all Force-sensitives, especially the young ones, if only it had been possible. The galaxy spans too wide, however, for that to be feasible — and some are simply too elusive for their own good. He expects Ilar fits into that particular population ( the elusive kind ) –––– and even so, he somehow doubts he feels particularly hurt by the Order’s failure to collect him when he was younger. At least, he doubts that’s the reason behind his defiance right now.
It feels more like misplaced pride. The assumption that Caspan would require any grovelling from him confirms it. He waves his hand in dismissal. ❛ Relax. I won’t make you beg. ❜ He’s not entirely unfamiliar with the concept of dignity. The line between that and pride is precariously thin, but he likes to think he doesn’t usually cross into that darker counterpart. Usually.
He’d sink farther into the back of his chair of he could. ❛ I just can’t imagine why you’d do what you did. I told you the Order would come for you, and you decided to meet them halfway by digging around where you shouldn’t. Incredible. ❜ His timber peaks to imply his feigned amazement, all accompanied by an exaggerated shake of his head. ❛ Why should I help you after all that, huh? ❜
They’ve effectively circled back to the same question. Ilar grits his teeth tightly, keeping the feral urge to scream locked tight under his tongue. He hasn’t made it this far by flying off the handle, after all; he knows the value of words better than most.
So, after a long time, he says: “‘There is no ignorance, there is knowledge’.”
(If he’d lived here, he realises, he’d have recited it hundreds of times.)
“That’s your code. Right?” He leans forward, an elbow on the table. “I’m only here because you told me a lie, and I wanted the truth--knowledge--but that’s all I want. All I’ll ever want. So, you tell me what you want, and I’ll make us even.”
Truth is, the vast majority of people Ilar deals with are--to be polite--amoral scumbags. Even if most still have their own inner codes to live by, the Jedi are meant to be paragons, of a sort. That famous ‘no attachments’ clause could really screw him, here; how’re you supposed to find a foothold with someone who’s not supposed to want anything, material or otherwise?
He keeps watching Caspan’s face carefully. The Force may tell him how to spot a lie, but of course it wouldn’t be so kind as to let him know if he’s actually getting anywhere right now.
“I’ll give you my word,” he tries; not quite desperate, but getting there. “That’s a good deal--you’ve seen how seriously I take it, after all. Let’s stop talking about ‘why’ I deserve this and start talking about ‘how’ I’ll earn it.”
ramblinfrank:
“You thought he’d have said something that’d clue me into some kind of explanation for this little stunt of his.” There came a sigh as Frank wiped a hand over his face, “Nah I—heh—“ Another pause as he shook his head with a wry smile, “It’s funny, ya know? ‘Cos honestly, seeing you here all of a sudden…Some part of me was thinking you might’ve known something to shed some light on all this.”
While his hand slid into the inner pocket of his jack, Frank let himself collapse on the small sofa behind him. His hand returned with a pack of cigarettes and a lighter within its grip.
“…But it’s lookin’ like we’re both shit outta luck in that department.” Frank muttered while placing a stick between his lips before he cupped the end and lit the end with his zippo.
His gaze returned back up towards Egor and, with a quick, casual jerk of his head, he made an inviting gesture for the man to seat himself in the open space beside him.
“You did?”
In spite of himself, he buried a laugh in his hand. It was so stupid. It was so... sad. Everything they’d--everything he’d worked so hard for was threatening to unravel at the seams, and here they both were thinking the other person had the pieces they were missing. If only it were that simple.
Even so, it was reassuring not to be the only person who didn’t know what the hell was going on. More reassuring still that it was Frank, who exuded such effortless calm even now--enough that Egor’s hands had stopped wringing, simply resting in one other as he watched Frank light his cigarette, his eyes drifting awkwardly between his face and the open seat next to him.
“...Yeah.” He finally sat, shifting a few times to adjust the distance between them. More, then less. Then more. Less. They had always had a hinge between them, be it Aleksis or Colt--not until now did it occur to Egor that he wasn’t sure how to interact with Frank on his own. He set his hands on his knees, fingers drumming nervously. “So... what do you think?”
Are we going to die?
“I think--I mean, it’s Colt, not some--” He made a vague twirling gesture with his hands. “--it’s Colt. He’ll listen to us, right? This doesn’t have to end in... well. It doesn’t have to end.”
hangarsermon:
Why Colt would waste his time on Egor’s equipment when he’s ostensibly trying to kill all of them before the day is over is completely beyond Harriet. Whatever gadgets Egor is playing with in the Complex probably broke on their own due to his incompetence. Unlike most of the other visionaries, Harriet isn’t convinced Egor is entirely useless. Some of his ideas have genuine merit. But he’s a moron, completely out of his league in ideas much bigger than he can handle. He’s like if the first caveman to conceptualize fire tried to light it with water. Now that he’s found out about Colt, he wants to feel like his research is some important step within the hysteria.
It’s tempting to give him a reality check, but she bites the meat of her tongue. It’s too late to start a fight with someone she’ll be stuck with for the next ten or so hours. instead, she straights up, folding her arms across her chest.
“Fine, Egor. It would be idiotic to try and send you out, at this point, now that you’re already here.”
Company. Company is the last thing Harriet is interested in, especially when there’s a giant target tacked on to the word like an asterisk. Especially when it’s Egor.
It’s not that she hates him. Harriet hates very few people. It would be like hating tools. Most people have their uses, and anything worth using is valuable to some degree. But Egor is just so… much. And the nature of Harriet’s self-crafted image has backfired, with Egor. It’s essentially turned her into his favorite repository for venting. The rest of the day, she realizes, will be filled with rambling about his anxieties, his frustrations, his fears, his nightmares, his vexations, his aches, his pains, his puzzlements, his allergies, his gastrointestinal distresses, his rashes…
“You’re the one who showed me this submarine. I’d imagine you would be better suited to telling me if it’s safe.”
Harriet’s the most and least available person Egor’s ever met, always reeling him in then back out to arm’s length. She can be hard to understand, but he tells himself it’s just because she’s different, special, like him. Therefore, he’s always humored her eccentricities, even if right now he gets the feeling--just the tiniest feeling--that she’s annoyed with him. Harriet is Harriet.
“Wh--well, of course it’s safe. Don’t you trust me?” He puts his hand out, not really expecting her to take it; maybe one day Harriet’s bubble will break, but for now he’s used to pawing the air around her. “I got us all this far, didn’t I? You and Wenjie, e-everyone else--Col--...”
Perhaps it does make sense to trust more selectively. But that selection should still include him, obviously. ‘Should’. There’s a lot of things that should be and aren’t. He swipes his hand awkwardly through his hair but doesn’t feel it move away from his eyes.
“...I can fix this,” he says, a little shakily. He tries to pick at one of the bandages wound around his fingers, but it seems to keep sliding away. “I mean, I have to! All of this, it’s my work. Even--even i-if no-one--”
He looks down at his hands just in time to see his fingers slip through his opposite palm. It seems to happen so slow, one knuckle at a time, no resistance. At first, he doesn’t speak--just stars, watching his hands giving way to each other.
“Even if I--I--” He looks up at Harriet like she’ll be able to explain it. “I...?”
ironically since I started being less self conscious about writing out vair's stutter it's become a lot easier to convey his level of focus and investment in things through his dialogue? mainly because while it's not a huge stutter, it tends to increase and decrease with confidence or emotional intensity (as these things do), and if it's completely gone then one can assume he's hitting the Hope juice hard, which is a whole separate issue.
i think a lot about how vair tends to back off mentally and let Hope ‘defuse things’ when they’re too much for him. it’s one of their weaker qualities and one of the reasons he can be tricky to form close bonds with. he’s friendly with a lot of people, but doesn’t really allow most of them to ‘know’ him. being vulnerable, and raising/resolving conflict (at least in a personal sense) is really difficult for him--he effectively checks out, which inadvertently signals to the other person that they’re not close enough to warrant the effort.
i think about how these small distinctions between vair and Hope are probably starker to the people who know him best, especially his family. i wonder how that feels, seeing your child/sibling/friend just kinda fade out and become another person, right down to the way they talk and move and hold themselves. probably not super great.

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@soistarve sent ‘little mister perfect just has to stick his nose in everyone’s business.’ / :> carver @ vair i make no apologies
spiritfarer starters / selectively accepting
The Gallows have always been an undertow, steadily dragging him down to a depth where the surface is nothing but a faint shimmer. Not out of reach, but distant. Very distant. It brings back the drowned memories of hands floating in dark water, useless, Hopeless. He keeps coming back, anyway. Places like this need him more than the bright halls of the nobility--but that’s not why he’s here.
The truth is he checks on Carver all the time, even knowing that he wouldn’t want him to. The truth is that Carver seems calmer, more focused--maybe even happier. The truth is that Carver doesn’t need an overbearing older sibling any more and the truth is that he loves him too much ever to be able to accept it.
Being caught out was inevitable, though; he’s never been all that good at subtlety.
“Y-you look like... like you’re--l-like--” He can’t look at Carver at all, actually--still sees the round baby and the fussy toddler and the coltish teenager still growing into his own limbs. “--like you’re n-n-not eating properly. ”
There’s no convenient excuse this time. Templars overwhelmed by their duty? Of course they are. Mages in peril? Aren’t there always. He can only deflect so much, absorb the struggles around him for so long, before his own hurts bubble to the surface and take a drowning gasp.
“I-I was--I was just--” He turns his head and bites the inside of his bottom lip like it will keep the stammer inside. “S-sorry. I was just... I don’t know.”
super extremely late kiss prompts
@hopecaged asked: [ POP ] for colt from egor ??
IT’S AFTER THEIR FIRST DINNER WITH THE OTHER AEON MEMBERS. Egor’s riding high off the success of his beloved brainchild by babbling non-stop; a rapidfire rambling machine throughout the thirty-minute drive back to the Serling lake house. Colt simply listens, occasionally offering a nod or shrug to the “conversation” when prompted. But not because he’s hoping Egor will fade into the background as his own thoughts stretch and flex elsewhere. It’s… actually more of the opposite.
There’s just something about the way the guy gets when he’s thriving in his weirdness so unabashed at full-throttle. No shame, no hesitation, just pure and unfiltered Egor Serling. It’s the passion of it, the utmost sincerity in the shine of his eyes as he recalls the toast they’d all clinked their glasses to before parting ways for the night: To Aeon! To our eternity!
It’s the “our” that had beaded tears into the corners of Egor’s eyes and made Colt smile with less snark for the first time that evening.
When they pull up at the house, they don’t head back inside. No, Egor’s too restless with excitement and the gazebo at the lakeside is already a favorite haunt of theirs at this point. Colt himself isn’t ready to turn in and feels grateful for the cool wash of fresh, open air over his face as he follows Egor out into the dark with his hands in his pockets.
There’s the crunch of gravel beneath their boots and the call of a crane from somewhere in the reeds. Egor’s still talking (“--and the look on Wenjie’s face when he said that? Did– Did you see? Ohhhh, I wish someone had gotten a polaroid! A-and, I mean, of course, I knew that she’d–”) and Colt’s content still just to lean to the gazebo’s railing and listen. Ends up watching Serling pace back and forth in strides that rock his body with a rare, loose happiness rather than the stiffness that usually keeps him rigid as a deer perpetually terrified of bigger, badder things.
Then, Egor goes still and turns to face Colt with a long, contented sigh.
“The best part? We’ve only barely scratched the surface, Colt. There’s so much more for us to discover. And we’ll be doing it all together.”
The words resonate all the way through the Captain like the satisfying twang of a good guitar riff. Like he’s heard them before, like they slot into some kind of keyhole that eases the tightness of his ribs. Like how she had also turned to him with words like that, with smiles like that, with the stars caught in her eyes like that.
It really hits him that maybe, just maybe, there’s something beautiful in the unknown – or, at least, in those who like to chase after it.
Which is why Colt suddenly can’t help but close the distance between them. One, two, three steps and he’s there with an arm looping around Egor’s middle to pull him flush to his chest as he catches his mouth in a kiss. Not just a quick one, either. It’s slow and firm and heavily pressed into Egor’s mouth that’s finally been rendered speechless. In fact, there’s a long, lovely silence around them besides crickets and the water lapping against rocks.
Until there’s suddenly a very loud clatter that jolts Colt’s face from Egor’s. It’s got him scowling as he squints through the gloom for an answer, only to spot the culprit after turning his puzzled gaze downwards. It’s… Egor’s right foot, which had popped out behind him and knocked over a fancy candelabra. Unlit, thankfully.
Colt laughs. Nothing mocking or harsh, just… playful, amused, warm. Been a long (long, loooong) time since he’s laughed like that. “So, uh… Must’ve meant it was good, right?”
Egor – doe-eyed, flushed, lips parted – swallows hard, then starts a stuttering line to explain himself. So Colt just cuts him off with his lips folding over each word that spills out.
spiritfarer sentence starters part 4 change tenses/pronouns as needed !! some lines have been edited for clarity / length / ease of roleplaying tw : death , depression / mental health , language ( pt 1 , pt 2 , pt 3 )
‘it seemed like we finally learned to coexist. to manage, at least. but … it’s really getting stronger, isn’t it?’
‘I never took pleasure in destroying other people’s lives.’
‘you’ve never been this nice to me before! should I assume you need a favor?’
‘well, you found me, no use running from it anymore.’
‘the gods, in all their materialistic arrogance, have played a cruel trick on me.’
‘why in the name of everything that is holy and beautiful do you carry this horrible thing around?’
‘damn, I hate her stupid face.’
‘I was looking for you. everywhere I went, you were not there!’
‘I haven’t forgotten what you did. I will never forget.’
‘my life is empty without you.’
‘I’m multitasking like a champ. no one can stop me.’
‘oh what would (name) think of me?’
‘would she have judged me for my failure?’
‘as much as I hate it, it is a part of me now. it will be forever.’
‘I am so proud of you. so proud of your heart. so proud of your blossoming soul.’
‘I’m sorry to leave you.’
‘the only lesson I have left is to show you what we’re made of.’
‘this is the last thing I can teach you. that all things change, that all things end.’
‘I don’t really trust you, but what choice do I have anyways.’
‘I don’t know why, but I can’t shake the feeling that we’ve met each other already…’
‘I’ve only ever felt at home when surrounded by my work.’
‘what I loathed was this perception others had of me.’
‘maybe you could come on a little trip with me?’
‘I’m not feeling so hot right now. I’ve got a lot on my mind.’
‘has anybody told you how smothering you can be?’
‘I was scared. I thought that you had left…’
‘always such an adventurer. I’m so proud of you.’
‘I feel I could stay here forever…’
‘I’m sorry, I don’t know how I got this confused.’
‘I just need you to… take care of him.’
‘you’ve got the eyes of a damn killer.’
‘he looks broken. you broke that man.’
‘what is physical pain when you can have the thrill of your life?’
‘I know it sounds silly, but I’ve always loved a tricky situation!’
‘I love you so much I could eat you up!’
‘maybe I’ll stay out night and day. It has nothing to do with me losing my apartment.’
‘don’t come close to me. I have a rare disease where I hate when people talk to me.’
‘I have a wild imagination and you can’t stop me.’
‘I’m feeling out of control.’
‘I’ll make sure you pay for this, you murderer!’
‘ok, this is your chance, don’t mess it up. just breathe.’
‘you are a killer, you know that, right?’
‘something is wrong. I can feel it in my bones.’
‘you don’t have good taste and you know nothing!’
‘those are the eyes of someone who’s not sleeping.’
‘words can’t aptly describe the immensity of my joy!’
‘the duty of knowledge rests heavily on my frail shoulders.’
‘we are no longer bound by the laws of mere mortals.’
‘everyone knows the best pirate crimes are committed at night.’
‘I don’t remember ever being like that. so full of life.’
‘I never understood why they kept it from you.’
‘it’s not like you’ve ever shied away from death.’
‘I started screaming. it was the only thing those monsters could understand.’
‘I told them truths that would only reveal themselves later in their lives.’
‘I vowed to never let go again, and steeled my resolve.’
‘you cannot even accomplish a simple request. you have failed this task.’
‘I don’t remember us talking much during that time. I don’t think we had much in common.’
‘that’s how I wanna go out, holding the hand of the one I adore.’
‘it still felt like him. silent but dangerous.’
‘through hardship, they would learn. learn how to survive. learn how to be better.’
‘look at you. you look so frail.’
‘if you can hear me, you’re not alone.’
‘you’ll never be alone. you’ve never been alone.’
‘you’re the worst partner I’ve ever had.’
‘I am the enemy they would remember.’
‘right now… I don’t want to talk.’
‘nobody changes. anybody that tell you otherwise is lying. or trying to sell you something.’
‘the only thing I’d rather be is true to myself. that might make me an asshole in the end.’
‘none of this shit matters. none of it.’
‘it was nice while it lasted. it just doesn’t change anything.’
‘nothing’s ever gonna change. not even in the end.’
‘I am duty - bound to take that secret to the great beyond.’
‘my memories are hazy. or rather, they are too many. and I know better than to trust them.’
‘I’ll tell you what happened! YOU happened!’
‘little miss perfect just has to stick her nose in everyone’s business.’
‘things are really bad out here.’
‘you know what they can’t control? me.’
‘you are showing promise.’
‘don’t worry, I’m not a monster. I won’t start telling you my dreams.’
‘okay! I give up! I’m lonely! so very lonely. I hate being by myself.’
‘this room felt like a cage, and now… I am told that I am free…’
‘the freedom might be a trick.’
‘no, you are here. magic.’
‘you see I am adrift on an ocean of my own making.’
‘you are the one who listens. who knows how to listen. you can illuminate the ocean’s starless nights.’
‘these depths, I knew well, and had hoped never to visit them again.’
‘to survive, I thrashed and I flailed, so much so that I managed to shed my bond, along with strands of myself.’
‘odd things have been happening ever since you came around.’
‘I don’t believe in money and the concept of spending said money.’
‘only you, the chosen one, can resonate with its magic.’
‘that’s what I remember. the way it made me feel. I didn’t like it.’
‘nobody likes to be kicked when they’re down.’
‘I’ve been feeling like I’m losing my mind.’
‘from this period there is not much that I remember.’
‘it took some convincing for me to accept it for what it is: an echo of a previous self.’
‘and suddenly, I’m filled with sadness for I realize or remember one essential truth that, perhaps, I would rather not remember.’
‘you are the only one who understands the sea, that it is not something to be scared of but a miracle to be celebrated.’
‘only you can explore this strange world with me. an anchor, a buoy and a lifeline, all at once.’
‘you don’t find that creepy?’
‘I say what’s on my mind! I’m direct and precise. you should know that by now.’
‘I know you know something’s not right with me.’
‘you’re here and it helps.’
‘you need to stop thinking of such things. your past will always bring you shame.’
‘your past will bring you down. your heart needs to guide you forward.’
‘I need you to do something hard, perhaps impossible in your current state.’
‘that must have been hard. such is life. you live. you lose.’
‘flowers are resilient they remember that they want to grow.’
‘that’s what I like most about you. you were always the brightest part of my day.’
‘you look dejected. do not.’
‘you knew all along, you had to. did you think it would not end here?’
‘of all, only you saw the beauty within the depths. the wonders that have amazed and alienated me.’
‘I hope you see, now, that I am not to be pitied.’
‘such brilliance is a gift like no other.’
‘I am not getting better.’
‘I have lost too much. I am incomplete beyond repair. below the critical mass required for a continued existence.’
‘echoes of echoes can only last so long.’
‘you’re tough enough to not be broken.’
‘everyone needs a little bit of discipline in their lives.’
‘a lesson you should learn from this: if life is hard, you should not be hard to it..’
‘people have the ability to change. you have the ability to change. you can shape how you want to be.’
‘a useless object will not make you think of me, but lessons will.’
‘I just want to say, truly, from teacher to student, I am proud.’
‘never talk about looting with another looter.’
‘I feel empty now …’
‘I’m talking too darn much, again.’
‘I know when I’m not welcome.’
‘I don’t know why I get like that, (name). sometimes … sometimes, something happens, anything. a big noise. someone says something I don’t like. or has got an attitude. or has a bad attitude. and I just … it just gets so overwhelming.’
‘it just gets so overwhelming. it feels like I’m drowning. and I can’t breathe, and I can’t think.’
‘I just start seeing red. and then I barely remember what happened.’
‘I want to change, (name). you gotta believe me! please! I just… I don’t know how!’
‘we need to have a talk. I’m not going good, (name). like not at all.’
‘I know I act tough and all but truth be told … I don’t think I’ve ever been doing good.’
‘y’know, you really do get on my nerves, sometimes. always so … happy. or caring. just … sparkly. I don’t know how you do it!’
‘whenever I try to get better in my own, I just wind up sliding back in a dark place.’
‘I’m so sick of being angry all the time.’
‘I just think of myself. I act rashly and I wind up hurting people.’
‘do you think I can get better? do you think I deserve forgiveness?’
‘you’re smart but you’re an idiot.’
‘people, they’re made up of all the things they’ve done. good or bad, doesn’t matter. same for everybody. and you can’t even change your past, no matter how much you hate it.’
ramblinfrank:
There came a single risen brow as Egor stammered along, as if silently questioning the man if he was actually trying to test him. However, given the aforementioned events of the day so far, Frank came to understand the man’s complete disregard for his one special rule not being a move of disrespect so much as one of self-preservation fueled by heightened paranoia. Which, he’d admit, was more or less warranted.
Fucking Colt…
Frank’s brows furrowed for a moment at the thought before his gaze became almost searching over the form before him. Wait, maybe Egor had some information on Colt to enlighten him? Or—‘clear something up’—did he suspect him of defecting too? Of course Frank wouldn’t because that was fucking asinine and went completely against everything he’d been working towards, though…he supposed his attitude on the Slabs probably wasn’t looking so good right now.
Okay, so the guy’s reluctance to part with his Slab abilities was…justified.
With a long sigh, Frank’s palm ran down his face, ending with a light pinch to his bottom lip. It seemed like he was going to have to forfeit his own comfort for a bit here, but perhaps he’d find some form of understanding. Besides, it was Egor for fuck’s sake. If he tried anything—even with that Slab of his—Frank would be able to snuff him out easy.
“Yeah okay, sure, man.” He muttered, taking the few steps towards Egor and patting his shoulder before gripping it and leading the other man back around where he’d just came from, “Let’s take whatever it is back on into the recording booth then—that way it’s nice, private, and secure.”
Sometimes, up close, Frank looked older than he really was. It was something about his eyes--lines that seemed a little too deep for a man in his late 20s. He pulled it off, of course, but it served as a reminder that he’d seen far more of the world than Egor ever had--more than he’d want to. Even here, Frank and Colt had delved into dark places that Egor had respectfully avoided. Not that he couldn’t make reasonable inferences about what they were doing there; it just didn’t... fit with the vision he had for this place. Blackreef was supposed to be different. Blackreef was supposed to be better. Why did people have to keep trying to ruin it?
Why would Colt?
The sound booth was full of buttons and sliders that the tinkerer in Egor was childishly tempted to touch. As they entered, his hands lifted as if he might, for a moment, before he hastily shoved them both in his pockets. One of his feet kept restlessly tucking up and sliding against the back of his shin--there wasn’t enough room to pace like he itched to.
“So, uh--uhh...” His throat suddenly felt terribly constricted; maybe it was the topic, maybe it was the smaller space. “So, it’s just about--I was thinking--well, a-at least, I thought you might--”
While he spoke, his hands gradually lifted out of his pockets to wring anxiously in front of him. He found himself staring at them--skin that would never scab, covered up with bandaids that would never wear out--it was easier than looking at Frank.
“It’s just, Colt...” His voice lowered, softened into something sad. “It doesn’t seem right, does it? I thought maybe, if he was going to say something, it’d be to y--”
Something about it felt like admitting defeat--admitting, at least, that he’d never known Colt as well as he thought. Maybe never known him at all.
“--to, uh, to one of us,” he amended, falteringly, feeling like he was under a very intense spotlight. “But, ah, he didn’t. To me. So I thought...?”
"Egor! Egor, get up, there's a CLASS. FOUR. Ecto-Event happening in Karl's Bay right now! I already called Harriet, she says she's busy, but as the most prominent members of the society, we need to go deal with those ghosts. Right. NOW!"
“Nngh... is this--is this real?” Fia’s voice pierces into his dreams like a spectral blade. “Are you re...? Wh--Harrie--wha...?”
A small delay. Her words set in and he suddenly sits up very straight, as if he’s been doused with icy water.
“...A Class--a Class Four?!” He blinks up at her--blurry without his glasses, a smudge of peach and black--and reaches out with a fumbling hand to check if she’s solid. Then he rolls clumsily out of bed and starts scrambling for his glasses on the nearby bookshelf. “Shit, I can’t find--I told you, c-calling them ghosts is--is reductive--suh-scientifically inaccura--a Class Four! Are you sure?!”
at this point i don’t question what @valourie sends me any more - egor & fia

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'𝚃𝙷𝙸𝙽𝙶𝚂 𝙳𝙾𝙽𝙴 𝚆𝙷𝙸𝙻𝙴 𝙺𝙸𝚂𝚂𝙸𝙽𝙶' 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙼𝙿𝚃𝚂.
as promised! i might make an updated list, but these will keep us shippy fools going for a while! in the meantime, if you think of other ideas to add to the list, don't hesitate to let me know!
[ HAIR ] : as they kiss the receiver, sender tangles their fingers into receiver's hair.
[ WAIST ] : sender catches receiver around the waist right before they kiss them.
[ GRAB ] : impulsively, sender quickly crosses the room to where the receiver is standing, grabs them, and pulls them into a passionate kiss.
[ BRUSH ] : just before kissing them, sender tenderly reaches up and brushes a strand of hair away from receiver's face.
[ CUP ] : gently cupping the receiver's face in their hands, sender guides them into a tender kiss.
[ ARMS ] : sender holds receiver in their arms while they kiss them.
[ THUMB ] : sender gently runs their thumb across receiver's lips before leaning in to kiss them.
[ PULL ] : sender pulls the receiver close against them as they kiss them.
[ PIN ] : sender pins receiver against a wall and begins to kiss them.
[ STRADDLE ] : sender straddles receiver while in the process of kissing them.
[ TUG ] : sender hooks their fingers in receiver's belt loops, and tugs them in for a kiss.
[ GAZE ] : right before the kissing begins, sender gazes at receiver's lips, then back up at their eyes, waiting for them to make a move or give confirmation.
[ NECK ] : sender brings a hand up and rests it on the back of the receiver's neck, pulling them in for a kiss.
[ LAUGH ] : sender can't help laughing in the middle of the kiss.
[ POP ] : a la "the princess diaries", sender is so absorbed in the kiss, that their foot involuntarily lifts off the ground.
[ BREATHE ] : sender has to force themselves to stop kissing the receiver to take a break to breathe.
[ LIPSTICK ] : after the kiss ends, sender pulls away to reveal that the sender/receiver/both have lipstick marks on their face afterwards.
[ FOREHEAD ] : following the kiss, sender gently rests their forehead against the receiver's. basically a forehead touch but like. post kiss.
[ ANOTHER ] : following the first kiss, sender places another brief one on the receiver's mouth.
[ LEAVE ] : having just given the receiver a kiss of a lifetime, sender leaves the room, leaving the receiver to wrap their head around what just happened.
hangarsermon:
[ Harriet ] Oh, yes. Their coleslaw was divine.
That place was most certainly a front for shadier practices, but at least the owner was committed to making it an enjoyable dining experience nonetheless. She can respect the effort to maintain the veneer of legitimacy through a grift, even if it’s just a matter of soup du jour and fresh-baked pies.
[ Harriet ] I remember, Wenjie. See you soon.
It’s a fifteen minute ride on her scooter. The weather is brisk, but sunny. The café is in a seedier part of the city, parked neatly between a laundromat and a package store. This area reminds Harriet of her younger years, when Elanor had first kicked her out of the nest and she was scrambling to catch up with the world, washing plastic forks, lining her windows with socks and cellophane during the winter, counting pennies from couch cushions. Money is nothing, until it is everything.
She parks her scooter out front and locks it on the bike rack. Bright red and fashionably mod, it should be indication enough for Wenjie that she’ll already be inside.
The waitress gives her a table for two by the window, where a wilted plant spills across the sill. Poor thing’s being used as an ashtray. She has half a mind to take it home with her and repot it in new soil. Everything deserves a rebirth.
When the waitress returns, Harriet requests a pot of Gristol Breakfast and two teacups. It sits, steaming, between herself and an empty chair as she waits.
In some bizarre way, it makes sense that Egor was the one who introduced her to Harriet. He exists in the thin intersection between their fields of study--hopefully a little closer to Harriet’s--almost like he’s their big, tall, horribly disappointing baby. Harriet coddles his insanity. Wenjie slaps him back to reality. These sorts of circular endeavors exist everywhere in their friendship, and yet there is a sort of equilibrium to it.
Every other ‘friend’ Wenjie’s had in her adult life has held an ulterior motive, a barely concealed desire to use her for their own gain. But she and Harriet don’t want the same resources--hard science vs. spiritual enlightenment--therefore, there is no need to compete. Simple parabiosis.
The sharp colours of Harriet’s outfit make her stand out clearly in the dull room. She always looks too perfect; there’s a kind of unreality to her. Like the world faintly warps around her. Wenjie sits down without voicing any of this.
“Hello. You look very clean.” This is a compliment. Not all of their friends are as discerning. Calmly, Wenjie begins to pour tea for both of them. “How do you like it?”
Harriet seems like she would have a different answer for that question depending on who asked her. That’s fine with her.
“I don’t normally like Gristol Breakfast.” She finishes pouring her own cup. “But I suppose you remembered I like this blend. Milk? Sugar?”