spicykvnt

Current Mood in One Gif

What are you watching? Series or movies discussion/ reccomendation

I watched Big Little Lies 1&2 recently and that was an incredibly fun show. Stellar cast as well.

Fruits of Contention - Wayrest

8:30pm, Last Seed 21
Dibella's House of Common Pleasures

^{With @Spoopy Scary}

---

Despite having spent a reasonable amount of time at Dibella's House of Pleasures, Relyssa had found she had not yet become accustomed to the frequent noises that echoed down the hallways. Leaving her room for any reason had to be treated as an extreme sport for the most part - a desperate dash to the bar without any of the patrons making eyes at her. She'd felt secluded as of late, stuck between the plush four walls of her suite, with only wine for company.

At any time when she thought that stepping out was an option, she would take a glimpse from the window and the sight of the pitiful droves of people was enough to remind her to stay locked down for now. There was also the dangerous matter of the bounty on her head. Not that anyone knew that she had the tiara, it did play on her mind - satisfying her ego more than anything.

The knock at the door came as a welcome distraction. Wine in hand she moved to the door, her frame dressed unusually in a white silken outfit, billowy and comfortable - the picture of couture. She had found that in red, the walls simply swallowed her up.

She gave the stranger a curious look up and down, her gaze was just about inscrutable until the corners of her mouth pulled into a tiny smirk. On any other day, she might well have snapped at the stranger's abrupt greeting -- but, she had been terribly bored. "I don't know that you could afford my rates..." the Breton answered. "But is that truly how you address all of the women here, hmm?" she remarked, arching a brow at him as she comfortably leaned against the frame of the door.

“I, uh… what?” The Imperial man stammered, then suddenly blinked. He looked around at his spot in the hallway, back at the door, and back to the woman. “This isn’t right,” he muttered. “There were supposed to be mercenaries… sells-- shit! Lying fucking merchants…”

Finch huffed a deep, soothing sigh and combed sun-tanned fingers through his thick and messy black hair. His smell was a mix of sweat, ocean spray, and the ale he had spilled on an earlier stranger, a stark contrast from the floral scents perfuming the upper floors. He looked back up at Relyssa with tired blue eyes, resigning himself to the twist of poor fortune he thought had befallen him.

“I, um... I’m sorry milady, I must’ve confused you for someone else. Uh, I’ll excuse myself then.” He then quickly added, “By your leave.”

Clearing her throat with a soft and small chuckle, Relyssa eyed Finch once more, stepping back only slightly from the doorframe, feigning some surprise at his words, as if in an attempt to disarm his embarrassment. “The language!” she laughed out, blinking quickly. “My goodness,” she added, rounding off with a sigh. She gave a quick side glance at the large, bulky item that he carried. Obviously he was seeking Gustav; who was staying in the next room over. Relyssa’s curiosity had been perfectly piqued, and it wasn't often that profitable opportunity literally knocked, especially not an opportunity to put her in Gustav’s company once more.

“I hope you’re not implying that a woman like me couldn’t be a mercenary,” she added, the giggly facade being swept aside quickly for another raised brow. “Hmmm?”

“No, hence my earlier address.” Finch said impatiently. There was a fidgety twitch in his foot, like a spinner working the treadle of his wheel. “I mean no disrespect milady, but if you would speak plainly? I have very little time.”

It was by this point that it became clear the young sailor’s voice wasn’t as irritable so much as it was anxious, like he was in a rush to be somewhere and for a very important reason. One could construe such fleetness as a mild panic, were he in any less control of himself. The pleading look in his eyes spoke to at least that much, as did his fingers twisting around each other as if he were about to break them. He didn’t have time to play her games, he simply wanted to get straight to business so that the Everard bastard wouldn’t have his head. Part of him also wanted to resent her, just based on how he was dressed; fine clothes and jewelry adorning his fair, smooth skin, manicured nails and luscious hair, all signs of a spoiled woman too far removed from society to understand any real struggle -- but to do so took too much energy that he had no intention of wasting, and he was far too distracted to care about such things. So, he instead settled for ambivalence.

“So come in then,” Relyssa answered. Even if Finch was short of time, she had nothing but time on her hands. “Take a seat, and a deep breath while you’re at it.” she said as she turned on her back on him to walk across the room - her hand motioning to an armchair set up by a small table.

Her mind wandered curiously to what the stranger was looking for, he was in desperate need of assistance -- perhaps simply a bodyguard? It couldn’t be, as anxious and fidgeting as he was -- he had the appearance of a capable individual. It was clear that there was a shadow of threat at his heels, and that interested her enough to not send him straight along to Gustav. Maybe she really could be of assistance to him.

Clearing her throat, she placed down her glass of wine and instead reached for a container of water, and a clean glass from the sideboard at her bed. “So tell me, what is ailing you -- what brings you to my door?”

“Like I said, a job.” Finch sighed as he paced his way into Relyssa’s room. There was a bit of relief that took some weight off his shoulders, but there was still the matter of negotiating a contract. He took a deep breath like Relyssa said, and sat down, shifting uncomfortably to accommodate the shield strapped to his back. “Though I need to ask, how… flexible is your company? I have to admit to you, the work isn’t exactly, uh… scrupulous?”

The young man twiddled his thumbs anxiously as he awaited Relyssa’s answer.

While pouring out the water, Relyssa took note of Finch's manner, and at the ominous tone behind his words. This was interesting indeed. Glass in hand, she turned again to face him, with a smile. "Rest assured, I don't believe in sending out just anyone to work. I would send only those most suited to the task at hand, so as not to create any liabilities..." The Breton took care in placing the refreshments beside Finch, another soft movement of her hand was the indicator to drink it.

"They are as flexible as they need to be, and they take their work seriously and get results." Taking an uncharacteristically soft approach, she sat down opposite Finch, offering him another smile as she crossed one leg comfortably over the other. "I can see that this is of great importance to you," she remarked, tilting her head inquisitively. "But I have to ask," she added, before he could speak up, "are you in some kind of trouble?"

“I work for someone much more powerful than me who wishes to see his bidding done in a timely manner.” Finch said simply. “Within a day. Without signing an agreement, I can’t share too much with you. Simply put, contracting a third party allows us to take some of the heat off of him. Creates discord. Something valuable was stolen from him by someone very dangerous, and I want your help to retrieve it. So, technically nothing about this is illegal…”

Relyssa nodded slowly, closing her eyes as she thought it over. “I understand,” she said sympathetically. “I’ve been the victim of thievery too,” she paused to run her tongue over her teeth, narrowing her eyes that glanced off into the middle distance.

After the momentary pause, she resumed a warm expression having mulled it over. “I’m sure we can be of assistance. My only concern of course, being just how dangerous this thief is… I don’t know that I want to put the lives of my good men and women in jeopardy for a petty squabble between a thief and your powerful employer… Sometimes such efforts can prove... “ she paused again, meeting Finch’s eyes with her own - a cold gaze. “To simply not be worth the risk. You must understand, yes?”

“If they cannot handle a thief, then I’m not sure if I want to endanger your men and women either.” Finch said, trying his best to keep pace with Relyssa’s careful maneuvers.“I won’t lie to you. I don’t think I’m as well spoken as you, and I can’t pretend I know how all this works… but I don’t feel comfortable telling you the name of a score without reaching an agreement. If you decided to contact them, that would put a target on my back. Survival I do know well. But if it helps to sweeten the deal, I can provide a down payment.”

“I like you,” Relyssa commented, smiling in Finch’s direction. “But you’re asking me to put my blind faith in this job, and in you. I’ve no doubt in your own skill, and I want to trust you, just as I’d like you to trust that my mercenaries are more than up for such a task. I just…” the Breton paused again, a smile flickering over her lips as she brushed her hair from her shoulder. “I value their lives, and I value them personally,” she shrugged nonchalantly, breathing out a soft chuckle. “A down payment would do well to build the trust between us, of course.”

“Alright then.” He said. There was a definitive certainty in his voice. “I’m thankful, really,” he commented as he untied his sash from around his shoulder, “this thing has been a pain in the ass.”

As he began to untie the fabric around the large, bulky object previously on his back he added, “Also, if it sweetens the deal at all, I already have a plan to retrieve the item of interest… and I’m open to any input. All I ask of your people is to help me execute it. Here—“

The old bedsheet was finally thrown off the mysterious object for Relyssa to behold a shield. It was wide and tall, and scaled with thick dragonhide. The rarity of such material after the Dragonborn slew most of them was second only to the rarity of its craftsmanship. The glimmering sheen across the scales reflected the orange candlelight from behind, as if the harsh glow of dragon fire flashed across its surface. His sharp eyes watched Relyssa carefully, expecting that she’d know full well the value of such an item.

The immediate effect that the vision of the scaled shield aglow with flame did it. She was not expecting it.

Relyssa flinched, only just, in her chair. It was as if she had been sat in complete darkness, only for someone to tear back the curtains to blinding light. The opening of a window that she had done well for years to keep closed, barred down, and covered.

Frozen in her seat, her hand gripped at the arm of the chair enough for her skin to burn a hot white. A memory resurfaced, clawing its way out of its grave with absolute vengeance. What was simply the chorus of pleasure in the walls of the house, turned to bitter and piercing screams in her ears. The rattling gurgles of death and unbridled screams of agony, encircling.

"Take that," she stammered out, averting her gaze and removing herself from her seat in her attempts to veil her fear. Once more she turned her back on Finch. In her chest she felt her ribcage as it tightened, her legs held her upright only by the sheer force of will to not fall in front of him. "Take it next door, my associate," she muttered. What had been a bored attempt at obtaining information, had left her feeling ill and like the rug had been yanked from under her feet. There was a cold and uncomfortable sweat on her brow. "He'll issue the paperwork..."

At first there was smiling, when Finch noticed the impact had stricken Relyssa; then a frown when her reaction seemed… far more severe than he could have anticipated. He was on the edge of his seat, ready to help, only to falter when Relyssa began to speak and finally signed her verbal consent to a deal. He smiled again. “Of course, milady,” he said. “I look forward to working with you.”

The Elder Scrolls: Legacy

A collab featuring many friends.

21st First Seed,
Evening, Guildhall

It was hardly the spread that many would expect for a welcome feast at the establishing evening of a new guild. It looked as though it would hardly feed a family of four. A roasted chicken, a plate of potatoes, a bowl of salad vegetables, and a simple cheese platter.

But there was at least a pièce de résistance. Right in the centre of the table. A dark looking cake with a sticky glaze and slices of caramelised pear adorning the top in a pretty circle. It was so fresh from the oven that steam still rose from it, carrying the aromatic wafts of ginger and spices into the air too.

As much as she loathed paperwork, two new pages of parchment were held in her hands. Two new applications. An Orsimer woman, and a lofty Imperial gentleman… Together they were sure to add to the beautiful array of characters that were already forming in their ranks. Ivy chuckled fto herself at the sounds of the footsteps upstairs as individuals got acquainted, settled themselves into their new home. Ivy also glanced at the closed, and most likely locked, door of Dro’Sintaba’s office. She hoped he might at least make an appearance…

As for herself, she’d donned a fetching gown for the occasion. Teal velvet that was long in the sleeve and high necked — sophisticated and classy. Several golden bangles adorned her wrists and ankles, and a thick golden choker was wrapped around her neck, coiled in the shape of a serpent with two tiny emeralds for eyes. Atop her head was a rolled bun of ruby red hair, knotted and voluminous. Her baby hairs were slicked into curls and placed flat against her temples with some kind of wax. She felt as fetching as she always did — ready to once again greet whoever decided they were hungry.

Ivy hoped there was enough to go around…

The lazing young man didn’t do much more than stealing glances at the redheaded Dunmer lady at center stage – huddled up in one of the more comfortable chairs, and wrapped up in his cape to keep himself warm, Ioannis hoped that he’d ‘contributed’ enough to the total feast effort by having dragged a boar all the way to here. With such a great gift, who would be expecting him to do things like helping with placing the dishes? Not to mention that he had come from a long way.

Hoping that the gigantic Argonian he’d caught a glance at would not end up feasting on the boar all by himself, he decided to break the ice with the red woman.

“So, uh, is the paperwork all good?” He asked, his gaze aimed at Ivy’s eyes.

Ivy, at the sound of a gentleman’s voice, turned her head in his direction — finding the form of the Imperial in his chair. He was well dressed, smart in fact and it pleased her to see it in the same manner that it would have pleased her had he been in rags and ruffled. She was simply happy for the company.

Bringing her fingers together, she formed a triangle and nodded in his direction, her smile inviting. “Oh yes,” she began, her accent blossomed from her mouth. “Very good indeed, you’re a smart one — we need creators here,” she finished. The Dunmer continued to look him over in as non-intrusive a way as she could.

“The boar you brought is fantastic,” she remarked. “Too late to prepare it for this evening but we can cure it! It will be especially delicious that way…. Although perhaps I could ask you to carve out the belly beforehand. Roasted boar belly would be… Quite the dish,” she said with a wink.

“Sweet Mara, please not me,” Ioannis thought to himself as he imagined having to carve the boar open, while shooting back a cozy smile at the woman. Had she just winked? “Oh, Dunmer women,” he thought. “Never change.” Of course, Ioannis had learned (the hard way) not to go about philandering in an environment completely new to him, but since when could a youth of his age cease such thoughts?

“I’m afraid I don’t have my trousse handy, and plus, I don’t have much experience with it either… Surely there’s a better butcher here than I,” Ioannis replied, stretching his arms. “I’m better at putting them down than handling the carcass, anyway,” he added, extending the index finger of his right hand, pointing it at the cake and making a ‘poof’ sound, throwing his hand up with the imaginary recoil. “You know. Like that.”

“La’Shuni can clean the boar.” The young Khajiit offered, placing a delicate forkful of chicken in her mouth, chewing thoughtfully as she regarded Ioannis with unsuppressed curiosity; he seemed far too clean shaven and sure of himself to have been much of an adventurer, she reflected. The insinuation that the Imperial hunted without knowing how to harvest game sat poorly with La’Shuni, but she put that aside for now. She wasn’t one to indulge herself to judgemental thoughts without reason… most of the time.

“This one is a huntress. She’s certainly found her way into more carcasses than her mother would approve of, La’Shuni thinks.” she smiled politely, cutting off another sliver of the meal. She tried to pace herself when she ate, not only to avoid looking too improper around company, but pacing herself made herself feel contented on less food than if she simply devoured what was before her. Out in the wilds, you didn’t have a secure source of food, and it could be a while before you came across an ample amount again on long journeys.

Ioannis turned his head towards the Khajiit upon her remark about cleaning, quite relieved. “I normally hunt small game,” he replied, not wishing to seem inexperienced. “Fowls, quails, mostly pheasants. The boar’s, uh… it’s a happy accident,” he added, not wishing to disclose all of the details.

Aud gave a rare little smile as she tore into a thigh of the chicken. She'd never been a paragon of courtesy at the meal table; there was little enough time for that among the Skaal. And so, her heavily-accented voice came out muffled by meat, still carrying that smile across on it: "a few hunters among you, then?" She looked back and forth between Ioannis and La'Shuni. "We should go together sometime."

The creaking floorboards issued enough warning of the next approaching member that the lumbering argonian could hardly surprise anyone with his arrival. Lifts-Many-Boulders turned the corner, following the sound of conversation and smell of food to find a guest in the guild house accompanied by a recently slaughtered beast. He paced up to them, though the agonized creaks of the wooden floor beneath him made it sound more like stomping, and made a curious appraisal of the beast as he scratched at its tusk with the end of his claw. What strange beasts.

“Miss Ivy?” He said. “I can carry to the kitchen.”

“Ah,” Ivy chirped out, letting the sound roll from her tongue happily -- she was really rather unsure of where to divert her attention as one by one the guildmates rolled in -- either straight from their first quests or fresh from their bedrooms, having unpacked and settled. She took a long look around the room and the happiness could not have been more evident in her. The way that she rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet, and in the way that she hummed quietly. “Thank you Boulders,” she said, placing a friendly touch on his gargantuan arm as he sidled off with the game.

Upon feeling the thumps on the floor, Ioannis turned his head with cautious anticipation – he’d heard that this Guild had its share of misfits, but he did not expect something like… assuming from the vibrations, an ogre. He suppressed the thoughts of going for his air bow, considering that a shot would likely do no more than piss the creature off, and that the other folks here would not be at such ease if the looming giant were hostile.

To his surprise, it turned out to be an Argonian, an overbuilt one at that. He thought of asking it whether it fell into the cauldron as a child or not, but its curious demeanor implied to Ioannis that perhaps it was mentally… special. He shot a smile at it, raising his hand as a greeting gesture. “Hello.”

Boulders cocked his head to the side as he looked Ioannis up and down. Skinny man? He was so little and the boar was nearly as big as he was! It might have been easy for someone like Boulders to hunt, but it must have been like fighting a wamasu for him. Looking at the boar, he found only a single wound on its body. Boulders nodded his head in appreciation.

“You must be strong warrior to kill big beast in one blow! Welcome to tribe.” Boulders said in awe to the little man before walking away with the boar in one hand. Before he turned the corner into the kitchen, he said again, “Welcome to tribe!”

The priest had not spoken up yet, content to nurse his drink in silence while he observed his new allies, smiling at their banter -- and at Boulders in particular. The priest and the behemoth had gotten along well since their meeting at the notice board and Rhillian had become even more fond of the Argonian when he saved him from a fiendish water-goblin. “Welcome indeed, kinsman,” Rhillian said and raised his glass to the other Imperial in the room. “You have a curious weapon there, I must say. What is it?”

As Boulders approached Rhillian to engage in the conversation, everything quietened down for Ivy. She swayed to the centre table — cutting a slice of the spiced cake to place beside a plate of potatoes and chicken. She still had their secretive leader to tend to, after all. With a roll of her eyes she glanced over her shoulder at the corridor that led to his suite, and then back to Rhillian. With a slight murmur under her breath she began to make her way down the hall to drop it off, content in the fact that a good night was going to be had.

Mass Effect: Cat and Mouse

---

Night had fallen on Omega, if it even could. It was forever in darkness, after all. There was always the distinct change of pace, however, when the curtains were closed and the worst of society came out to play. There was one place that they all flocked to - Afterlife. It seemed that the music only got louder as more hours passed, unsettling the atmosphere around it with the loud and thrumming sounds, off-putting and obnoxious to most, but effectively attractive to the wrong sorts of crowds.

Watching like a predator from above, Odette stared down at the flocks of people moving in and out of Afterlife. A cosy platform to move around, without joining the peasant class below. As she made her way across the station, she was thinking over just what made each individual that she saw tick.

In some cases she even thought of their weaknesses. The staggering human that was alone was just asking to be mugged on his way home. She closed one eye, as if aiming down at him from behind a scope to take her shot. His languid movements simply made it too easy.

It was also the realisation that she was itching for some danger.

A creature of habit, she longed for her personal quarters back at base. That was where she would finally relax and unwind in her own way — with music of her choice, read, and then perhaps to write. Quiet, contemplative hobbies that didn’t require her to spend time in the company of anyone but herself. She couldn’t do that here, not until her mission was complete. Until it was, she would continue to feel the itch.

As if by some twist of fate, she caught wind of the voice of a child below. Afterlife was behind her now, but this was still too near for children to be around. Curiosity got the better of her, and she leaned beyond the bars of her platform to get a closer look, and there he was. Callan.

Wasting no time, she slipped under the veil of her cloak once more, just a shimmer until the light eclipsed and she dissolved into the background. Carefully, and yet surprisingly deftly, she scurried down the scaffolding to the lower ground, right in front of her ex-colleague. Two of his cronies were with him too… If things got heated, her wish for violence might be answered.

As the trio pushed forward, and Callan was about to close the distance, the cloak shimmered again and the woman reappeared, expressionless, mere metres from him; “it’s time to talk,” Odette said, as blunt as always.

Callan blinked as his former handler appeared in her usual manner, out of nowhere. Fausion and Kollek remained silent, more surprised at her sudden appearance than their leader was. But they remained composed as he instructed them to be before they’d left the base. Around them the usual crowds of Omega ignored the encounter entirely, every other person pre occupied with their own affairs.

“Fausion, Kollek, stay here. I’ll return shortly,” The biotic commanded, then turned his eyes to Odette. “Very well. Let’s talk somewhere quieter.”

“Have you made up your mind? The last time we talked was, stressful.” Callan stated, feeling he’d said just the right word. Confident he was out of earshot of his two underlings, as both the armed soldiers leaned against a wall and waited.

Walking forwards with Callan, Odette glanced sidelong at him; “if I had made up my mind, you would know about it,” her tone was grim and heavy. She meant it.

Unable to look at him any more than was necessary, she turned her head forward, catching the small details that littered the place. “You have friends here, then?” she asked, briefly looking back at Fausion and Kollek over her shoulder, she had no effort to put disdain in her stare and instead remained stoic. “You have… A life,” the woman stated. “Are you happy?”

“Not sure if ‘friends’ is the right term. But they’re loyal, so are the others in my group.” Callan stated calmly. He trusted Fausion and Kollek enough, they were paid well enough and he gave them plenty of freedom when not called upon.

“I’m much happier than when I was a part of Cerberus. I have actual freedom, the only times I was happy at Cerberus was when I was out on mission.” He added, truthfully.

Omega was far from a paradise but it offered its own version of safety, well until the last few days when Odette arrived. Part of him did miss her, she being his only real friend while he was in Cerberus. But her arrival was troubling in its own way. He couldn’t think of many scenarios in which Cerberus stopped trying to hunt him down, particularly if they knew he was on Omega. They’d just send agent after agent after him.

“Are you happy in Cerberus, Odette? Honestly?” He posed the question, curious how she’d answer after their encounter a few days before.

Quite frankly, she didn’t know where to begin with the question. She was happy in the field, as Callan himself had expressed. She was happiest working, and to be given work, and she hadn’t been one to question her work before - nor be questioned about it. Her face gave a telling scrunch as she mulled it over. “I do what I do because the work is important,” she said - like a mantra that had been drilled into her. Unflinching at the implications of it, and the deeper meaning. “I have a purpose with Cerberus. Yes, I am happy.”

Once more, her gaze shifted to Callan, the little things about his appearance that had changed now that’d found his freedom, she exhaled slowly, thinking on his words, honing in on one aspect. Torture. “You said that they… Hurt you?”

Callan nodded as Odette gave the answer he figured she would give. She’d been a part of Cerberus for a very long time now. They were a ruthless organization that heavily used propaganda with its operatives to ensure full loyalty. It took Callan some time to break away mentally because of this, he’d been practically spoon fed a diet of it since his abduction as a child. Odette hadn’t undergone the severe beatings, torture and mistreatment that he had. Though a part of him still hoped he’d be able to break her away from the savage group and see what he saw all those years ago.

“Yes. As I said last time we talked, if I could remove my armor and show you the scars they left on me. Incisions from surgeries, lashes from torture and injection points from the chemicals they pumped into me. All to make me stronger, more obedient and submissive to their demands.” Callan stated, recalling the moments they’d strapped him and experimented on him or brutalized him when he didn’t perform to their perfectionist standards.

“Even beyond the physical pain they tried to condition me for total loyalty. They took me away from my family when I was a kid because I was a biotic. Then raised me to serve them, to kill without question. Whenever they weren’t treating me like a human lab rat they’d stuff me in a cell until they needed me again.” He added, recalling the facility they’d kept him on. Even after nearly two decades from the day he was brought to that ugly world to be raised as their live weapon.

Shaking her head, Odette practically dug in her heels at his words. She didn’t want to believe him, but there were too many gaps in her own memory to verify his explanation as a lie. Never had she seen Callan, or some of the other biotics for that matter, in any of the other quarters. She would only ever get to see him on assignment. So where was he for the rest of the time? Then there was the question of where his rage came from. “I would know about this, I would know if they were hurting you,” she said, stopping in her tracks - stopping herself from placing a hand on his arm.

Was that what she struggled with so much? That she followed Cerberus so blindly and with such unyielding conviction that she missed what was right in front of her? That she was also blind to the torment. Odette could at least see it now, his truth laid bare in the smouldering embers of his eyes.

She broke their forward march by making her way to the rungs of the walkway unceremoniously. “I was arrested after you left, I think I told you that. They kept me in a cell for five days. I know that they can be cruel.” Odette explained, watching down towards the lower levels, and the blurring figures that carried on. “But their cruelty… It is for a purpose… This is to better humanity’s position in the galaxy, to strengthen us. Don’t you believe in that?”

“No, I honestly don’t. They’re a human supremacist organization. You’ve seen how they treat aliens, the lack of care and total non association with anyone who isn’t human,” Callan stated with blunt honesty. “There’s a reason whenever Cerberus is mentioned in the greater galaxy it's despised.”

Ever since his arrival on the space station and greater Terminus space he’d been exposed to more alien life. He integrated Turians, Salarians, Asari and others into the Void Angels. Otherwise they would’ve been snuffed out of existence without a glimmer of hope. It had taken time to wash off the incessant anti-alien indoctrination that Cerberus had burnt into his mind. He knew Odette was far from a hateful person like far too many in the organization that Callan encountered.

“And I am once more sorry that happened to you, Odette. If I could have done it any other way I would have, but that would’ve put you in much more danger. I was always on a leash with them, if I wasn’t so powerful with my biotics I guarantee they would’ve put a bullet in the back of my head.” He added, his tone shifting from sympathetic to certain. Callan saw things in Cerberus which his ex handler never even knew of. They were experts at keeping such disturbing details from their own people.

“Is that what they want me to do? Put a bullet in the back of your head?” Odette asked, looking to Callan - for guidance, almost. “They sent me here to retrieve a criminal, dead or alive. Yet…” She stopped, bringing her thumb to her lips as her eyes narrowed. “Yet what I want to do is to help you.” She began to slouch over the rail, as if deflating. “I don’t know how. I know what I know, I know how to shoot -- I don’t know how to help you, but I want to try.”

Her face scrunched again, and she straightened up. It stung to show that side of herself, especially since it was such a foreign one. “But I need results. Cerberus needs their results. There is only one way off this station for me. That is with you, dead or alive, or in a bodybag. Anything else is unacceptable.”

“You’re a good person, Odette. Even after all these years apart I still know you are. I don’t honestly know how you could help me. If you leave and tell them you couldn’t get me they’ll be enraged at you, and still send more agents after me until the deed is done. The only thing I can do is keep running further away until I have nowhere else to run. Even then the Illusive Man’s reach spreads further than either of us can imagine.” The biotic replied, speaking from the heart to his former partner. He leaned against the railing next to Odette, his eyes hanging over the filled streets of people unlucky enough to find themselves on Omega.

“If you want to put a bullet in my head I won’t stop you. But that is the only way I’m going back, in a body bag. If you take me back alive I guarantee I will level every fucking single thing I see with that damned logo on it until there’s nothing left but dust.” He added, staring directly into her deep blue eyes. The assertiveness in his tone blisteringly obvious.

Unbeknownst to him, Odette had not been listening, and was instead focussing on the drop from this platform to the next, squinting as she worked through the physics of it. Finally, she reached out to grab his arm at last, with as reassuring a squeeze as she knew how to give him, she met his stare with her own - her determination and desperation in her eyes. “So shoot me.”

With her free hand she grabbed her own shoulder, marking out the spot, “I can take it. Shoot me off the platform. I can survive the drop, but I’ll be too hurt to finish the mission. It’ll buy you time.”

“What? Are you serious?” Callan began to say, protesting the sudden idea. Then rapidly thought over the logistics of it. It was bold, but he had faith in her. Callan always did. Then spoke again with a reluctant nod as he drew his gun. “This is going to hurt, I’m sorry.”

Then with a firm squeeze of the trigger he fired directly in the spot she demanded he did. The Carnifex heavy pistol roared in his hand, Callan silently wishing he had chosen a less powerful sidearm. His leg lifted her up and over the shallow ledge, to drop below. Around him the people of Omega stared in shock, several starting to run away in fear of more gunshots. As Odette began to plunge over the side he made resounding eye contact with her another time, a rare smile etching onto his features.

She wished that she was as stoic in pain as she was at any other time, but Callan was right. It hurt. It hurt enough to take the very air out of her lungs - so much so that she couldn’t even speak while he began to force her over the edge. Her extraction would take her to the nearest Cerberus facility, “See you… soon,” she groaned from behind clenched teeth - hoping that he knew what that meant.

Odette couldn’t smile back, instead, she screamed from the railing to the bottom. It was her job to sell it, the blackout at the platform, the heavy thud and clatter of the crate that she landed on was the final blow, that Omega was over for both of them.

Callan broke off the gaze at his falling friend and silently holstered his sidearm. The ex Cerberus human experiment turned gangster walked back the same way he came as the crowds where the shot still echoed dispersed. Violence on Omega was more common than almost anything else, it was rarer closer to Afterlife like they were. As the biotic returned to his two underlings they said nothing to him, then went on their way to meet the Asari arms dealer.

Callan’s thoughts were filled with Odette, as he hoped she would survive the plan and they’d end Cerberus’ hunt for him. He knew she was one of the greatest agents they had, and it was not the last time they’d see each other.

Current Mood in One Gif

<Snipped quote by Stormflyx>
stop drinking

@Inkarnate

Current Mood in One Gif

@Stormflyx

same

Like Creator, Like Character.

I've mentioned this a number of times, but my character Raelynn was definitely at one point an outlet for the darker side of myself. She's very unlike me in that she's selfish, cruel, and closed minded; but her positive traits we definitely do share. She has a love of knowledge, is ambitious, and can be incredibly compassionate but what surprised me most was being able to write her when I was having depressive episodes and it felt like a healthy release as opposed to doing something toxic. Her inner thoughts and fears very much mirrored mine and that actually surprised me a lot.

Fruits of Contention - Wayrest

Great post as always, @GCold.

At first I wasn't sold on what Relyssa would be doing -- but I feel like she's perfect for a bit of something like this. And, I mean.... dangerous black market weapon? It almost writes itself...

Greetings!

Hello everyone! I'm Bryn, a young woman with a fair share of interests and just coming out recently off a long RP hiatus, so my skills might be rusty. However, i'm still eager to get back in action.

Hope we all get along!

@ShiningValkyrie

The only way to get not-rusty is to just join in!

Hope to see you around soon!