Normally, Joker didn't leave the bridge much. Walking anywhere, even with the upgrades Cerberus had given him, was still kind of a crap shoot. One wrong move and he'd break a hip.

But he wasn't an idiot. Despite Kat Shepard insisting she was fine, he could tell otherwise. And he'd be damned if he left her to stew in her own misery.

Which was how he found himself outside her cabin door, wondering if he was, in fact, being an idiot. Well, too late to turn back now.

Send "Who put that there?" for our muses to realise they're standing underneath mistletoe together [accepting]

"Who put what where?" Garrus asked as he started looking around in all directions. It wasn't immediately clear what Shepard was referring to, and he almost asked her for clarification before he looked up and saw a sprig of a green plant hanging from the ceiling over their heads. Still a little confused, the turian tilted his head to one side as he eyed the weird thing. He had seen them throughout the ship, mostly near doorways, and he was at a complete loss as to why they were there.

"This?" The former Archangel reached up to gently tap part of the mistletoe. "Still not quite sure what these are for," he admitted with a slight raise of his shoulders. "Read something about witchcraft and how many witches would hang herbs over doors to ward off evil or something." Now Shepard knows that he reads strange things when he's bored, but that's fine.

if it were up to him, shepard would have long left the Citadel by now. But Captain Anderson and Udina are still in talks... about what, he has no damn clue. (If it were Shepard who had command of the Normandy, he would have dragged any information on Saren out of Udina, political niceties be damned — why forward it to the ambassador, anyway? isn't it Shepard that answers directly to them now? at every turn, the Council seem to hinder him more than they're helping him — and taken off as soon as the Council had declared him a Spectre. But he's guessing that's probably one reason he isn't in Anderson's shoes.) C-Sec Requisitions, too, are dragging their feet with the new prototype equipment that's supposed to be en route to the Normandy.

Between the interruptions, they've been informed that they can expect to be ashore for about a half a day more. Shepard isn't all that surprised, considering the involvement from both Udina and Citadel Security Services.

Shepard's never been interested in tourism. If he were at any other post or on any other planet, he would have lingered near the Normandy if he weren't already aboard it. But there's a first for everything. This is the Citadel, after all. And while the Presidium Commons aren't his cup of tea — too quiet and bright and much, much too clean, almost uncomfortably so — escaping the Presidium is quick work via rapid transit.

He's not exactly sure where exactly he got off the shuttle, but it's dense and it's most certainly commercial. The sidewalks are bustling, and the endless sprawling of sights and entertainment is impressive: a vast improvement to the numbing tranquility of the Presidium.

He finds a bar at the end of a nearby street. If he were on shore leave, he might have gone ahead and drunk himself stupid. After all, how else should one celebrate this... new responsibility? (He supposes that's all it is. For all that Nihlus spoke of the unfettered freedom that Spectres enjoy, Shepard is still little more than a sitting duck while Saren runs wild doing God knows what and God knows where. So the Council finally believed him — big deal. Until they've got Saren in cuffs, calling this a celebration seems premature.)

He turns the freshly opened bottle of beer on the counter before him. Even if there's little actual accomplishment to celebrate, having his first drink as a Spectre alone sounds like a miserable idea. But there isn't anyone in particular he wants to share a drink with. Except...

Clearing his throat, he offered a bottled water. "You wanted it to be picture perfect, but... it's not over," he said, voice rasping a little over perfect. A bruise had started to form on his cheek, a little gash over one brown eye that had been steri-stripped. He wasn't walking as tall as he usually did, almost stooping.

And yet, he still managed to offer something of a smile.

@serabellyms said: ✨

🐝  *  ―  send ✨ or ( ‘SPARKLE’ ) and i’ll tell you at least one thing i like most about you, your blog, your portrayal, or your muse    /    ACCEPTING ↷

I really love how good you are at plotting! Not even only for your own interactions with someone, but the way you've helped people, such as me, build AU verses for characters. You always have good, solid ideas. I could send you a random video of a canon character you don't even engage with the source material with, and you'd have ideas for where I could start building a Mass Effect AU for them. This is beautifully demonstrated in plotting threads with you, because, and I'm sure many people here can relate to this, my input for plotting can often be like:

umm erm ummmm erm i just think it woud be neat if these two interacted -marge simpson holding a potato meme-

“i’m the type you want to go to war aside - not against.”

Winter paused before answering, her face composed and scrupulously neutral. Viewed from a certain angle, that might be taken for a veiled threat; or else meant to reassure, tilted in another direction. Holographic, she thought.

Of course, the headmistress of Beacon Academy had a certain reputation for… eccentricity, and although Winter didn’t yet know the details, General Ironwood had hinted that Salem was more than she appeared. It seemed unwise to presume she had spoken without care or consideration of the present circumstances. Winter–

She respected General Ironwood a great deal. No one could doubt his good intentions, his heart, his resolve. Winter would never hesitate to say he was a good man.

But the General was also, in her private estimation, a poor politician. His indifference to optics and the fickle tides of public opinion could be admirable, in the right moment, but to sail incautiously into treacherous waters was not a virtue. They were all fortunate that the Valean Council had declined to treat this brazen transgression of their airspace as an infringement on Vale’s sovereignty. They would be fortunate again if the nervous, excitable press did not seize upon Qrow’s drunken slander and her own unbecoming outburst to inflame the situation further, in the minds of Vale’s people if not in reality.

Winter held Salem’s gaze steadily; all of this ran through her mind in the course of a single second, automatic. Her father’s daughter.

Perhaps the headmistress intended it as a test. General Ironwood summoned her here to recommend her for some purpose, she knew, although she couldn’t fathom what. But if this conversation was to be a proving, let her pass or fail with honesty.

She exhaled, inclining her head a fraction. “Whether aside you or against, ma’am, I don’t want to go to war,” she said. “But if war should come to me, I will fight for the principles that have always guided me; for justice, and the defense of life and dignity. That is what matters to me. I… fell short of that, and I take full responsibility for the altercation between myself and Qrow Branwen yesterday evening.”

Even if he had started it. Winter felt a muscle spasm in her jaw as she quelled that twinge of childish outrage.

Munday asks! // Accepting!

@serabellyms asked:🤗 — are there any rpc mutuals that you’d like to meet irl? 🎁 — what have you accomplished in the rpc that you’re proud of? ✈️ — ever traveled anywhere interesting?

🤗 — are there any rpc mutuals that you’d like to meet irl?

Oh sure! I've met a few IRL, and most of the time, it's been pretty okay, but I am a little bit more wary after a particularly bad experience with one of them becoming my roommate and it.....not ending well (it's a long story). But just meeting people is definitely different, and I always enjoy making new friends.

🎁 — what have you accomplished in the rpc that you’re proud of?

UH, when I first joined a super long time ago, I was in the T.ron fandom, and I wrote a fic and posted it, and C.indy M.organ, who plays L.ora B.aines and Y.ori in the original film liked it. Which is pretty damn cool (but I guess technically isn't really the RPC?)

So, uh, in that case, I took the time to create a timeline for the G.od of W.ar games, since there are quite a few more than just the core five, and it can be confusing where they all fall.

✈️ — ever traveled anywhere interesting?