#solgun

Başı boş bir yalnızlık

Güçsüz omuzları

Eziliyor ağır yorgunlukta

Sızlıyor kalbinin ıssızlığı

Derin iç çekişlerde

Solgun bir ruhsuzluk

Karanlık kuytu köşelerde

Sarıyor bedbaht bir korku

Ağlayan yıkık viranelerinde

İşitilmiyor hiçbir sonsuzluk

Kesilmiş, acıyan hüzünlerinde

Seni bulduğum yerde kendimi yitiririm,

@solgunslinger

Ordinarily, Toaster would have told a Guardian asking him for assistance to go and locate the nearest garden centre, find the largest cactus they sold, and utilise it for locating their g-spot. He’d come to find their tendency to try and drag him into their odd jobs rather perturbing.

Sol was different though. Toaster liked Sol. So when she had proposed he help with a task she’d been given, it was only with slight reluctance he agreed. It annoyed him it would be helping the higher ups of the city, but he relished the opportunity to fight alongside her. Particularly against those big, ugly, naked mole-rat looking Cabal. He sat in her Jumpship, making final checks to his weapon systems, attaching his supplemental armour, and performing a few stretches. Something made him pause however, and he turned to observe the planet they were approaching. He squinted, before letting out an audible groan.

“Aww fuck. Mars? Seriously? No one told mentioned going to Mars. I fucking hate Mars.” Toaster remarked, moving up to the cockpit to slump beside Sol. “Nothing good ever happens on that shit-hole and its always populated exclusively by cunts no matter what universe I go to.” The Cyborg informed her. It was less his usual grouchiness, and more a tone of genuine exasperation and displeasure.