shadowsolaris

[shadowsolaris]

Danny's playlist, organized in order of lore/background/story... specifically for "The Way of a Stray"

[shadowsolaris]

The Way of a Stray, P3

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The room Daniel woke up in was decorated nicely, a little too nice for his opinion, but he didn't say anything... The curtains pulled over the floor to ceiling windows, and they did nothing to quiet the sound of rain hitting the windows. Leather chairs and a small table set up by the windows with a forgotten chess game still sitting there.

The nightstand next to him with a nice lamp, a book with a bottle of pills sitting on top of it. The door to the closet was open, the lights off.. the door to the bathroom was also open, but the lights had been kept on.

And across the large room was a nice desk with papers strewn about it, computer screens on, and a rather big man he didn't recognize in a dark colored combat gear with red details sitting there, running a hand through his brown hair.

Those blue eyes move over to where Danny is now sitting up. A sweatshirt he remembers putting on when he went out with that other fella is all bunched up on his arms, his modified jeans still on, pockets empty of any and everything, his prosthetic is not attached and is missing... his curls are a mess and falling over his forehead, his face all flushed from sleep, rubbing at his mismatched eyes and trying to get his vision to clear enough to see who was there.

Danny heard the accented greeting, then the chair moved... heavy footsteps making their way over to him, feeling a hand on his shoulder and listening to fabric shift as his new companion crouched down. He could hear him talking, but the language he spoke didn't make sense to him. He seemed to realize that he couldn't understand when Danny gave him a confused and disoriented glare.

A chuckle, then the grip on his shoulder tightening as he's shook a little before the soldier starts talking in English, the Australian accent notable. Making Danny's head spin as he tried to wrap his head around what was going on.

"It's Daniel, right?"

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I wonder if the moth I saved from the rain this morning knows how much its tiny existence and attempts to fight my hand as I picked it up with a piece of paper meant to me

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Headshot meme

[shadowsolaris]

Oc Post... Nikolai Volkovitch, aka Nicholas (Nick), and Daniel Brooks (Danny).

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Nicholas... that's what Danny knew him as. He posed as another lost soul to draw him in, sink his claws in, and bring that stray to his new home with the promise of shelter, with a new family, a new purpose driven by revenge and anger.

Did he know bringing him here might be worse than letting him fall further from his place amongst other fallen stars? Yes, yes, he did... He'd led multiple strays back here, watching them sign their lives away to a man Nicholas had come to associate as a reaper in human skin.

He watched how his stray - how his fallen star - is compressed, broken, and reshaped. Watched that light as it left his eyes, which now bared a dull, empty expression. Like he was staring off into space, a space he used to shine brightly in. Now, only flickering occasionally, in a pattern he could no longer understand.

Nicholas watched as his stray sat out in the grass, away from all of them. Away from the accented voices, away from languages he couldn't understand quite yet. Sitting with the fireflies that buzzed and blinked around him. He watched as he carefully cupped a small bug like it was the most important thing in the world to him.

Watching the light of the firefly blink and flicker in the safety of his gloved hands.

His feet led him over before his brain had a chance to catch up, squatting down next to him, bringing his hand up only to hesitate. He broke this man by touching him once before by leading him here to this group. Empty promises that seemed to reflect in the mismatched eyes staring back at him now.

He had expected him to pull away, to save what was left of himself before he had a chance to shatter it beyond repair. But he didn't. He leaned in, resting his masked cheek in the palm of his hand, gloved hands opening to show him the firefly safely cupped in his hands. The small light blinking and flickering, reflecting in both of their eyes now. He saw it now... he understood.

Nick brought his other hand up to cup his face, empty gray eyes filling with warmth softening as he held his stray... his star... his firefly in the palms of his hands.... pulling him into his chest, blocking out the rest of the world for the time being... Just like Danny had done with the light bug... keeping him safe, keeping him secure, letting him shine brightly, to flicker and blink without the world watching...

Then... letting him go. Leaving him alone in the dark again.

[shadowsolaris]

A little directory for The Storage Room...

Current list of OC's on this blog: Daniel Brooks, Nikolai "Cheshire" Volkovitch.

-OC Posts-

Daniel Brooks - Oc Info Post here

-- Fics --

The Way of a Stray

P1 - P2 - P3 -

-- Other Posts --

Danny's animals... p1 - p2 - p3

Playlist... here

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Nikolai Volkovitch (Nicholas Rose)- Oc Info Post here

-- Fics --

Fireflies - here

-- Other Posts --

[ Will appear in "The Way of a Stray ]

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[shadowsolaris]

; - ;

I wanna hug him, so... so bad...

I humbly request food for the og Makayuri nation... anything at all... 🙏

Ask and you shall receive....

OG! Makarov x OG! Yuri,

pretty short, but I may continue it soon heheheh no warnings, just sad Yuri :(

Sweat clung to Yuri’s brow and beads gathered and trickled down the sides of his face, soaking into the pillowcase beneath him. His poor heart pounded and thundered wildly, his body unconsciously trembling, as his mind screamed for him to wake up; and in the thick silence of the night, with only the soft rise and fall of Makarov’s breath beside him, Yuri’s bright blue eyes snapped open.

He let out a small gasp, eyes wide, and his chest heaving as though he had just barely reached an exfil point in time. His sleep shirt was now damp and clinging to his skin, and almost in disgust, Yuri found it to be suffocating. With a small groan, as to not wake the other, he swung his legs off the bed, the cool air hitting his clammy skin. He tugged the shirt over his head and wiped his face with its dry edges, desperately trying to slow his racing breath.

Another one. Another fucking nightmare.

And the worst part of it all, was that he felt the bed dip from behind him and weight beginning to shift as a deep inhale was pulled. Makarov was awake. Yuri closed his eyes, head tilted down as the other wordlessly moved up and towards him from behind, wrapping a tired arm around his soldier’s waist. 

“Another one, Yura?” 

Makarov mumbled into the shell of Yuri’s ear, causing a shiver to crawl down his spine. The dirty blond hesitated, before nodding. 

“Да,” 

Yuri finally murmured in a defeated tone, his voice barely above a whisper. Makarov hummed softly in response, his mismatched eyes still half-lidded, struggling to focus through his exhaustion. He took a quiet moment to adjust, placing one leg on either side of his lover. Now with his chest to Yura’s back, he placed his stubbly chin onto his shoulder, while both arms wrapped around his midsection. 

“You can always talk to me, любовь…”

No. 

He could never speak of what cursed his dreams, not ever. Not to him. 

I can’t. 

How could he? How could he explain the horrors that haunted him, the ones that twisted his dreams into nightmares? How could he describe the flames, the gunfire, in a way that would make sense to Makarov? And the suffocating guilt. God, the guilt that gnawed at his soul for following Makarov’s path. For helping bring “glory” to Russia. 

He loves his country, Yuri does. He just wanted to see it do better, to recover after their latest failure and collapse of The Soviet Union– but at the cost of so many innocent lives? 

How could he even explain how each nightmare began as a dream? A dream where he manages to escape his fascist lover’s iron grip? How he runs, a desperate attempt at fleeing the fire, but then, only when he believes he is about to get away, the sun’s flames close in, and the earth cracks beneath his feet which then forces him to face the chaos he helped create?

…

“I know.” Yuri said softly. 

[shadowsolaris]

average konni group chat. excuse my terrible photoshop

HSHSHHDJHDJKKD PERFECT

[shadowsolaris]

OC Post

Meet... Nikolai "Cheshire" Volkovitch, more information below the cut.

Name: Nikolai Volkovitch Nicknames: Niko, Ches. (Alias: Nicholas Rose) Gender: Male (he/him) Height: 6'2" Age: Thirty-eight (38) Eye Color: Gray

Relationship Status: Single

Date of Birth: October 15 Place of Birth: Unknown Parents: Unknown Sibling(s): Unknown Children: Unknown

Operational Status: Active

Languages Known: Russian, English Affiliations: Kortac (Former), Konni (Current)

Positive Traits: Assertive, Charismatic, Confident, Decisive, Efficient, Goal-oriented, Hardworking, Productive, Reliable, Respectful, Self-disciplined. Neutral Traits: Honest/Dishonest (Flip flops depending on the situation), Caring/Uncaring (He cares for some things, but can be very uncaring for a lot of others), Helpful/Unhelpful (Picks and choosed when he wants to be helpful). Negative Traits: Cynical, Impatient, Impulsive, Irritable, Manipulative, Pessimistic, Secretive, Spiteful.

Nervous Tells: Soft chuckles, Looking towards the person he trusts the most in any given circumstance, Shifts his weight on his feet. Habits: Avoids eye contact in groups, but when there’s fewer people, he tends to stare. Doodles on everything, papers, desks, skin, ammo, weapons… and switches between certain dialects/accents. He carries comfort objects with him. Has everything anytime something is needed. Carries a pocket dictionary despite having access to the internet. Can’t sit in a chair correctly.

Other Notes, IMPORTANT

He really lives up to what they call him, “Cheshire”, that mischievous smile, and his ability to just disappear when you take your eyes off of him. It’s unclear if he plays mind games on purpose or if he doesn’t realize he’s doing it. But needless to say he’s charismatic in an almost unnatural way and can be manipulative.

He almost reminds me of a snake, sneaky, and strikes fast without warning, deadly accurate, and can somehow make it feel suffocating. Preferring to slowly choke than quickly stab. He contradicts himself, and it’s a roll of the dice with him.

The only person he seems to get along with is Daniel Brooks. There seems to be something between them, but they’re both not the most reliable with body language and social cues. They understand each other in a way that I can’t. And it’s both interesting and terrifying. Best to avoid them if they’re together anywhere.

He’s not closed off. In fact, he talks to anyone… Specifically, targets or potential threats. Information gathering and infiltration is something he’s great at. He’s no doubt has quite a few targets on his back, but he doesn’t seem to care.

He doesn’t seem phased by any threats, just smiles and looks amused, almost like he’s enjoying the chaos. Though he does get worried if Daniel is anywhere near the chaos. As stated before, there’s something between them. If we need to get to him, go for the other.

DO NOT ENGAGE DIRECTLY... If he needs to be caught, restrain him. Keep an eye on him always. No less than three people in a room with him at a time.

Report by: #$@%!&?

[shadowsolaris]

any advice for someone wanting to make a cod oc for the first time? thank you!

love ur blog btw:) sending love!

Oh gods, hello Anon! Sorry it took so long to answer this, put a lot of thought into this... ; - ;

My process for making CoD oc's, well oc's in general, is a little all over the place. But I usually start with a name first and foremost, and sometimes the name changes as the creation process goes on.

I focus on personality first. Sometimes, if you have a vague idea of what you want your character to be, where your character is based, or who your character surrounds themselves with, this is the easiest place to start for me.

Figuring out a characters personality is fun, and nothing is set in stone when you make characters. I have a list of personality traits saved to my phone, categorized in positive, negative, and neutral. Of course, these vary depending on a person's opinion on what is classified as positive or negative in personality traits.

Making a playlist for a character is also helpful. Songs create a vibe. Adding different songs throughout a playlist can create a story. Like my oc Danny, he came into being when I first heard "A Sadness Runs Through Him" by The Hoosiers... which was the first song on his playlist, and then I added other songs to it.

Having an idea of your characters personality, you can start to figure out how they would react to certain things and how different situations affect this character. I start at the present moment with a character (if you have a group/part of a timeline, they are attached too) and then work backward to their back story. Where are they now? How did they get here?

Appearance is what I struggle with the most in characters because I want them (for my own oc's) to be realistic. That's why back story is helpful for me, because I know where the character is from, the environment they grew up in, and varying other aspects. And that also changes. It changed a lot for Danny, and many different times over the years, he's been existing. In fact, he wasn't a CoD oc to begin with, but I universe hopped him into the CoD universe.

Nothing is set in stone with oc's they're your character, you make them how you want them. The creation process varies depending on the person. And if you are stuck trying to figure out different aspects of a character, grab a dice or use a digital dice! That's how I figure out gender/pronouns for my oc's...

Also, if you can't figure out anything else quite yet... color pallets can be a good start, find one you like and build something around it!

I hope this helps! Or was some good advice? I know it's a bit all over the place, I'm very chaotic with creating characters lmao... Thank you for the ask, Anon!!

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Graves: ... has anyone ever asked what the fuck is wrong with you? You specifically and not anyone else in your life?

Laswell: No...

Graves: Ah, firsties. What the FUCK is wrong with you? Because there is definitely something wrong here

Laswell: Why- Why are you the first person to ask?? Not even my WIFE has asked!

Graves: Oh, I know a ticking bomb when I see one, I usually go for them in recruitment

Laswell: ... how many people have asked you what's wrong with YOU?

Graves:

Graves: I lost count...

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Makarov: What is a hero without a villain?

Nolan: Useless.

Makarov: What’s a villain without a hero?

Nolan: Successful.

Price: So… what you’re saying here is that we all should be villains?

Makarov: Not ALL of you. That little one with the pointy hair can stay a hero.

Price: Soap?

Makarov: Yeah. I like his energy but his boyfriend is scary.

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Bad hair day ✂

[shadowsolaris]

Part 2 of this post

Daniel Brooks considers himself a strong man. He'd faced plenty of hardships in his life, not having a stable home, living on the streets, and fighting over scraps like a feral dog at such a young age.

He'd been shot, stabbed, tortured, blown up, you name it. And he's still standing... though after the incident with the tank, he found cracks in his hard shell.

Staring at the mirror in a temporary apartment, he didn't see himself like he used to. No, not when the person staring back at him looked so... broken? Metal replaced his left leg, and the healing burns covered his thigh, hip and a majority of his side and stomach.

He was used to scars and the memories that they brought with them. But these were different. These marked the beginning of a new life and a past one that ended by betrayal and abandonment.

He didn't know when this all happened, when they found him, when an offer was put on the table and a deal was struck. He didn't know who dealt the cards or rolled the dice, who moved the pieces that landed him here... staring at someone he no longer recognized in the mirror, while another presence hovered behind him, blue eyes staring into his soul, wrapping arms around him, rough fingers carefully tracing the edges of new scars as he was walked backward out of the stranger in the mirrors sight.

Past him would have cursed and fought current him, beaten him to a pulp and left him to rot for turning his back on his commander and finding safety and comfort in soft sheets and a new home in the arms of the enemy.

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[shadowsolaris]

Looks like a cat who is about to knock a mug off a shelf, and you pull a spray bottle on him, and he just pushes the mug off anyway as you spray him with water.

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Priorities with the graves/adler family

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Part 1 of another project I don't have a name for.

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Danny remembers the flames, the warped and twisted metal that had become his tomb. He remembers the pain, the dirt under his nails as he drags himself from the burning wreck.

He remembers the fear and the uncertainty, hearing his commanders voice over the coms, taunting and cocky before the explosion brought everything to a stop. Voice replaced by crackling flames, screams from his teammates, screams from his own throat.

What he doesn't remember is how he got out after he dragged himself from his inevitable grave. Only a hazy recollection from a mind focused on survival. A blurry figure, hands grabbing his burnt and broken body until everything faded to white.

He doesn't remember much from that day, some things he's not too sure if what happened was real or not...

But he remembers that he was in that tank.