What even was Vi's life right now? She had been sentenced to prison for how many years on account of theft and had been actively counting the days until she'd be let out or even if she would be let out and now all of a sudden, she was out and heading towards The Lanes. And it was all because some pretentious enforcer was putting her trust in her for some stupid case that would hopefully lead her back to her sister. The stars couldn't be more aligned for her.

Vi's lip curled up in annoyance as the enforcer brought up a map of Zaun that, at first glance, was insultingly inaccurate. It looked like a mosh of random shapes drawn out to try to replicate the undercity but the cartographer clearly wasn't trying. "Can I see that?" Vi asked as she held her hand out for the map and once it was in her clutches, she gave a smug smile as she ripped it up. "We don't need that," The fighter spoke as she simply let the scraps float to the ground. "I know a shortcut."

Her way was a shortcut, all right, but it sure wouldn't be for the seemingly inexperienced enforcer. The other woman's build alone showed her all she needed to know. Vi gestured for the woman to follow her and once she moved away a patch of brush with her arm, she glanced back at the enforcer and smirked. "There's your starting line. Now hop to it. Get it?" Vi asked before she effortlessly dropped down some odd feet onto a rooftop. The enforcer wouldn't be able to do it and that'd be the end of that...right?

@warpaiint asked:

"The room is now empty, nothing left to throw." - Caitlyn / Jinx

"Just means I gotta get creative."

@warpaiint asked: ❰❰ HURT ❱❱ sender is hurt protecting receiver - cait and vi

The anger that boiled up within Vi was immense as blue eyes caught sight of people coming in after herself and Caitlyn. She shifted to swing but was restrained in a tight grasp. Her eyes went frantic witnessing her companion being injured by a stray bullet meant more for her. In total panic, Vi threw off her attacker to be free.

"Cait!"

She raced to her side and took out someone's jaw in the process. A swift and loud crack was heard from her fist connecting and shattering the jawbone. Her fury was palpable and the attackers found that out first hand as Vi held nothing back in her swings and anger. Beating them away, she sprinted to Caitlyn only to skid onto her knees to reach for her.

"Easy, easy. I'm right here. Come on, let's get you somewhere safe, yeah? I've got you, Cupcake."

This was a new brand of torture Kotallo was wholly unprepared for. He found himself pushed back against a wall in Memorial Grove after having just returned from his duties at Hekarro's side for the day. Alarmed, he captured Aloy's left wrist in his hand as she attempted to wrap both arms around his neck. The glazed cast to her eyes was unnerving enough that he looked over her flushed cheeks and easy smile with a frown.

Immediately, Kotallo glanced over Aloy's shoulder to where Drakka, Ivirra, and others had gathered around to drink one of Desert Clan's famous brews. The scent of redthorn peppers and sourfruit was stark enough in the air around their fire that he realized what had happened.

"What did you do to her?" he demanded with a gruff growl at Drakka while Aloy tried to fumble at the clips of his armor.

With patience he didn't feel, Kotallo softened his voice as he lowered his gaze to the Nora huntress. "Aloy, stop. It's the drink."

"We're just having a night off! Join us, Marshal! It'll be good for you! I envy your position right now," the new Desert Clan Commander said with a bright laugh. "It's not everyone who can get the Champion fighting to rip their clothes off."

"You should have warned her," Kotallo snapped back with irritation.

"Relax, Marshal. She's an adult. I've no power to stop her curiosity."

"You didn't have to encourage it," he grumbled as Aloy finally did manage to free the first fastening of his chest plate. Kotallo cursed the lack of his other hand when he couldn't keep her from pressing her lips against the leaping pulse at his throat. By the Ten, she was going to kill him, and she didn't even need a weapon to do it.

"Aloy," he said again on a frustrated sigh, trying to find a balance between discouraging her behavior without hurting her feelings. Sourfruit had a way of...overriding one's emotions and inhibitions even without the aid of fermentation. "You don't want to do this," he said softly.

"Why won't you touch me, Kotallo?" She pressed another open-mouthed kiss to his throat and the Marshal let his head fall back against the wall as he groaned. Killing him. By the Ten, she was killing him right here. "Don't you like me? Is it because I'm not Tenakth?" Despite the way her hands now spread across his bared abdomen with want, the innocence in her question was enough to bring some semblance of logic to his poorly functioning brain.

The laughter of those around the fire nearby reminded Kotallo of just where they were. His eyes met Drakka's smug, smirking gaze over Aloy's shoulder. Kotallo's promised violence. Later.

Dipping his gaze back down to Aloy, he worked to reassure her with quiet, soft words. "Aloy, you're drunk. It doesn't matter that you're not Tenakth. I like you as you are. But you're asking for things you don't mean."

"How do you know?" she asked with a pout. Kotallo could see that stubborn set of her shoulders despite the way she draped her arms successfully around his neck this time.

"Because I know you wouldn't want an audience if you really meant what you were asking."

Aloy looked up at him from beneath her lashes as she smiled sweetly. "We can go somewhere else," she suggested, one of those sneaky hands of hers dipping down for her to hook a finger in the front of his armored skirt. Quickly, his hand whipped down to recapture her wrist to prevent her from discovering exactly what he thought of her. He pulled her wicked hand away from his groin and encouraged it behind his neck instead since it was undoubtedly a safer place for her to hold onto him.

In a singsong voice, Drakka piped up at the fire. "Have fuuuun, Marshal. You can thank me later!"

And even as Aloy was killing him, Kotallo vowed to end the smirking shit in the arena tomorrow. Or at least take him down a few pegs. Hekarro was unlikely to allow him to kill Desert Clan's Commander even if he deserved it.

Managing a deep breath to gather every ounce of his restraint, Kotallo finally dipped his head to press a soft kiss on Aloy's forehead. "We'll find you a cot to sleep this off," he muttered.

He staggered in shock when Aloy leaped up to cling to him, even wrapping her legs around his waist. It wasn't her weight so much as the unexpected action that had him fighting for his footing. This was most assuredly not helping his erection. Using his arm to hook under her, Kotallo hiked her higher to ensure she didn't discover it pressing against her backside as he carried her from the fire. The sound of Drakka's taunting laughter followed them.

Not trusting the troops to not take advantage of an inebriated Aloy, Kotallo carried her straight to his own quarters and settled her down on his bed. It was a mistake, he realized, for the moment he saw her sitting there and waiting expectantly for him, desire swamped him. But he was not a randy recruit to give in to baser wants.

When he stepped away, Aloy made a sound of disappointment. "Where are you going?"

"It's not right, Aloy."

By the Ten, were those tears? His throat clogged with panic when she indeed started to sniffle. "You don't want me?" she asked, her voice broken.

Unable to resist the urge to comfort her, he stepped close again and dropped down to his knees in front of her. His hand reached up to cup her cheek while his thumb swiped at her tears tenderly. "Not like this, love," he said softly.

"Why?" she asked, her hands moving to grip desperately at his wrist. She held his hand close to her like a lifeline.

"You're drunk, Aloy. I can't take advantage of this."

"But what if I wasn't? Would you want me then?" she asked as more tears fell.

She undid him. In such simple ways, she could unravel any amount of control he had. Hadn't he vowed not to make his feelings a burden for her? Aloy already carried the world. She carried the expectations of entire tribes along with the unwanted feelings of far too many. He didn't want to add to that burden. But here, in a moment of weakness when she wasn't likely to remember, he found his tongue loosened.

"I always want you, Aloy." The admission was quiet and private, but the words seemed to bounce around the confines of his quarters. Already, he wished he could recapture them and swallow them back until they never left his lips.

But then, there she was smiling with such sweetness that he found himself feeling too greedy. He ached to kiss her. To taste the lingering alcohol in her mouth and share in some of that reckless abandon it had granted her. Instead, he reached forward to plant a chaste kiss on her cheek followed by another on the end of her nose.

"Sleep, Aloy. You'll feel better in the morning."

Before he could move away, she tightened her hold on his wrist. "Can you stay? You don't have to touch me. Just stay."

Logic argued it was a bad idea even as the rest of him reasoned something as platonic as sharing the same space in sleep was harmless. Staying won, only because Kotallo found he'd lost the will to resist any more of her pleas.

"Scooch over, then," he murmured, smiling when she beamed at him and immediately made room for him on his bed.

@warpaiint SAID: ❛ you’re lucky that you’re cute. ❜ - Stray

⚔️ I can’t remember what meme this is from // CLOSED ⚔️

The little feline meowed in response.

They were alone alone in these ruins. Sniffing out for mice to catch just to sustain themself. Aloy had sent them scurrying at first but after a while, they grew curious and decided to follow her. Observant and silent they were as they followed. At least until one of the crumbling devices hanging on the wall they had been using as perch abruptly collapsed as they jumped off of it. The sound had startled the woman, and that was when they had been spotted.

They were alarmed, but only for a moment before the cat began to cautiously approach them. A few tentative sniffs at the air as the little creature slowly crept closer and closer. Then, a meow. A hoarse, tagged little sound, but no less adorable than any other. Curious and good-natured, hoping for a positive response that wouldn’t startle it and send it scurrying off with a loud yowl or screech of fright. A meow that asked a question.

Verena wasn’t entirely certain where they were. They’d smelled the creatures before, but memories were distant and foggy, as soon as they managed to shape them, a strong wind would blow them away. But there was a strange familiarity to the two-legged beasts that roamed this alien world---something they knew on a deep, intimate level, but couldn’t wrap their mind around.

A blue light on the side of the dragon’s head began blinking, reflecting off their scales as its intensity grew. The glare in their eye drew a hiss from them, and for the millionth time, Verena sank their claws deep into the earth, attempting to fight the will of the metal parasite the beasts had implanted into them. Pins and needles traveled down their neck, along their spine, through each one of their beating hearts until they infected every bit of the dragon. The metal skeleton fitted over their wings screeched as the gears turned and Verena’s wings were forced open. Pins and needles turned to shockwaves and daggers beneath their scales, until finally, the dragon unlatched from the ground and stood to their feet. 

Dust gathered in tiny clouds with every step the dragon took on the dry earth. Up and out of the darkness of the cave the beasts hand bound them in. Outside of the pen was a chute constructed of wood and metal scaffolding. Verena had torn it down several times before they’d managed to perfect the control their metal parasite had over them. The beasts could hide behind their masks, but Verena could scent the fear on them as they worked with quick, shaking fingers to unlatch the metal cage around her muzzle. The dragon snorted, shaking their massive head and sending the two creatures tumbling back down to the floor. They might have turned on them, pried open their jaw against the will of the parasite and burned the flesh away from the beast’s bones, but the blue light flared and a streak of white hot pain faded the image of the beasts from their mind, killing the fire while it was still in their chest. No matter how hard they resisted, their feet moved forward on their own accord.

When their vision returned to them, the men were gone, and they had strapped her into a harness forged of metal and leather. The fur of their armor whispered as they stepped off the scaffolding and onto the dragon’s back. Verena felt the weight of three creatures pile on top of them, and watched as they rapidly fastened themselves to the saddle. By the time they were all firmly attached to the dragon, the scaffolding was at its end, and finally, the dragon could raise their wings.

Metal groaned as it struggled to match the force of the dragon’s beating wings, and with a single thrust of their legs, they were in the sky. Even if the air was dry and their will was no longer their own, at least these creatures had not deprived them of the sky. 

The day passed, mundane as the last had. The beasts used Verena’s strength as their own, forcing the dragon into battle against massive metal beasts. When it was finished they would step down from Verena’s back and pull the smoking corpses apart, lashing different components to the dragon’s back and legs until they were nearly too heavy to fly, then they returned to the beasts’ den, took their prizes, and offered the dragon a meager meal. Their world had nothing truly large enough to sustain a creature of Verena’s size, but they’d gone for much longer on much less food before.

They were crushing a boar whole between their teeth, enjoying their fleeting moments of freedom in the sun, when a scent on the wind made the dragon pause. Ever cautious, ever curious, Verena raised their head, ignoring the warning beeping from the machine inside them. Their eyes raked over the small crowd of the compound, but as soon as their gaze settled on a single one of the creatures, their body contorted in pain. Deeply implanted in their left ear socket, the metal parasite flared to life. Verena screeched, people were shouted in alarm, and as the enormous dragon stumbled to the side, its tail crashed into one of the metal spikes along the wall. They could smell blood, and the rancid, burning scent of metal. It was their blood, hot enough to corrode the very object that had split open their tail.

“Shit, shit-!”       Boots beating against the cold floor, Bill sprinted as fast as he could from the wave of figures behind. Strangers and coworkers mingled together, making the most horrible noises as they washed after him like a flood. Zombies, it turned out, were far worse than those old films and books could have prepared him for.       And I thought fuckin’ biofuel converting killer robots was gonna be th’ worst thing this year!       “Fuck off!” He turned halfway on his heel, chucking his empty rifle into the crowd; wasn’t like he’d find any bullets in here, and he didn’t need the extra weight.        Wasting no time in stopping, he let his momentum slam him right into the door at the end of the hall, his hand scrambling for the panel that would let him inside.       “C’mon, c’mon, c’mon-” He fumbled the passcode in and slammed his palm against the reader. The door seemed to take an eternity to open and every second, the horde grew closer. He squeezed inside the room the second the opening was wide enough and tore the curved blade from the loop on his belt.        “Close, damnit-” he jammed the door’s controls and exhaled shakily in relief as it slid back shut. Scant heartbeats later, he heard the sound of bodies thudding into the door.       He stumbled back, staring at the door. It held... for now.       Looking around the lab, he weighed his options.        Option One) Wait for the horde to break in, be ripped to shreds, probably still get eaten by Faro’s plague.       Option Two) The horde gets bored or can’t get in. Faro’s plague does instead. Still get eaten by the damn plague.       Option Three) Wait and die.       Yeah... he didn’t like any of those.        He cast his eyes upon the cryogenic tube- the only working one the lab had... working in theory- and groaned. He’d never believed in this project, not really, but the pay had been good. Now, it was looking like it was his only option: Four) Jump in the tube and freeze to death.        It wasn’t the worst death he could imagine... peaceful, in it’s way.         Numb, he punched in the commands to the Tube with practiced detachment. It hissed open and the chill clawed it’s way into the room. He started to climb inside, then hesitated. What if that Zero Dawn project, whatever it was, worked? What if this stupid cryogenics chamber worked? What if there was something after the Faro plague? Someone to let him out?       He swore to himself and closed his eyes. If there was something after, did he want it? Well- on the big off chance that all of those ifs turn into something... I can make my choice then, he decided, putting additional commands into the console.         As he began to climb inside, he paused one last time before activating his Focus. He scrolled rapidly through his audio library, knowing exactly what he was looking for.         Finally reclining into the Tube, the first notes of Styx’s Renegade began playing in his ears. He’d had stupid fantasies about the apocalypse and listening to it as the world faded away. He just never thought..

A bright-eyed raw recruit might’ve been flattered in being so trusted with a mission of diplomacy and secrecy. But while Garrus Vakarian was new to the Special Tactics and Reconnaissance division, he definitely wasn’t a babe in the woods. He’d been in and out of Palaven High Military long enough to know he shouldn’t be flattered just yet. 

Still, he carried himself like a Turian military specialist ought to as he made his way to the embassies where his escort waited. 

She was to bring him back to Horizon Dawn herself: an unsanctioned and wild place, potentially a death trap. 

Hopefully not. 

“...Ambassador.” Hesitant-- she stuck out like a sore thumb to his eyes, but his guard was lowered here. “Garrus Vakarian, Special Tactics and Reconnaissance. I’m the Council Spectre assigned to your case.”