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|| No better way to bond than beating the crap out of each other before getting lunch.

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4x01 - Way Of The Warrior

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. The question as to whether or not she was with Kingdom didn't really need to be answered in the moment- she'd attacked him and that told him enough. Either with Kingdom or semi-aligned; she needed to die. Just as quick as his fingers had wrapped around his pistol, her foot connected and sent the weapon skittering.

He growled in annoyance, her next strike hitting his gauntlet and hearing her knuckles crack against his drone. In the momentary pause, he threw out a right hook with the opposite hand, following it up with a second blow aimed at her temple.

@audaciious for a plotted fight!

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The color blue looks good on you.

Assume the worst, take aim. People & rabbits, they all run the same. Until there is no one else except you left to blame.

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Begging her ass off for an edible when she just finished vaccuuming up her dental treats. You cannot have weed you little personal space invader

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@galaxythixf said: ❛ all i hear are screams, every time i dare to close my eyes. ❜ - Fade to Sova

- epic the musical || accepting -

. There were only a few odd spaces on and around the base where one could hide away from the crowd of agents in the main rooms. In particular, this spot was barely frequented. There were better places to sit and watch the sunset if you wanted- with less potential to slip off the ledge and wake up in the infirmary to Sage kindly reminding you that her energy wasn't to be wasted on snapping your neck for no reason.

The sun had set long ago, leaving them only illuminated by the moon, a quiet conversation following the ebb and flow of the waves below. The more she spoke, the more he could feel her frustration brimming like boiling water, unable or unwilling to speak to others about what twisted through her. Sasha wondered if it was because she was getting tired- given her aversion to sleep, he always assumed she resented her limits.

You cannot stay awake forever, he'd finally said, brows furrowed, and her ensuing silence concerned him until she spoke again. How much of it was her own pain, and how much was Nightmare's influence? Did they feed off each other? Regardless, the only option was to carry her and try to force her to sleep (something she'd resent like any of them did), or try to help tire her out and give her mind something else to focus on.

"Then let us find something more invigorating to do then sit in the dark. I think you would do well at archery. Come, I can teach you." He offered a hand to her.

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@chronal-anomaly asked: "I know you don't want to, but the jet's gonna be the fastest way to get there. It's okay, just get it. I won't let anything happen to you." For Soldier, callback to his claustrophobia :eyes:

. The sneer he pulled was near instinctual at the thought of the jet. Glorified matchbox he'd called it more than a few times. There was no doubt that Lena was a capable flier, no doubt that she was right, even, nor doubt the jet was ready for the flight; it was the fact that it wasn't made nearly large enough for another person, much less someone of Jack's bulk.

"I'm not a horse," he grumbled, brows pinching inward. Even with his enhancements, that was less than feasible, unless he had learned how to walk on water recently. Her kindness felt patronizing in the moment- a nasty impulsive reaction and unkind to Lena of all people. There was a moment where he crossed his arms, looking away, mask reading off a dozen different small notes to him.

"Sorry." Said quickly, crossing his arms. "You're right. Let's get going before I rethink it."

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tfw you're told you have to work for the government or they'll kill the little girl you helped save

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. In a way, he could extend a measure of empathy for Spock's desire to slip away from the castle. Duty meant much to all of them, certainly, but one could not be expected to exist solely in droning lesson or the occasional 'break' of the warmaster setting Spock on his arse.

His motions were a practiced pressure, firm, but not sharp, working in gentle swipes and furrowed brows. He could see the twitches of Spock's jaw, the way he tried to keep from making it known his wounds still ached.

A bemused grin settled over his lips at the comment- he doesn't quite think of it as an offer for some escapades away from the state. Perhaps, though, it would let him keep an eye on the other instead of seeing the effects of his gallivanting after the fact.

"I don't doubt there are some differences, but surely you could see them in a museum," the tone is light- a formality, for the moment. Curiosity turned it into something more of a question. He couldn't exactly say he wasn't intrigued, after all.

IT FEELS WORN, EACH TOUCH and point of inspection, the skin, rough and hardened by time, labored by something else that Spock cannot be certain of.

Before now, he can admit that he hadn’t given it much thought. Many of the people in service to his father’s house are no stranger to violence, war, occasionally greeting death like a companion.

In ancient times, such a mentality would have been rewarded, flouted with scars, wounds like the tattoos of a warrior’s strength. In some ways, it is not so different in their present era, respected or revered; logic merely hones them, keeps that perspective like a warning.

Naturally, he wonders how the Doctor has come to it even if it is a distant thing, distracted of his thoughts by the sting at his jaw. His lips tighten, attempting — and perhaps, poorly — to conceal it.

“ It is different, ” he protests, weathered by history, “ You should see them. ”

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One aspect of Bashir reading as autistic is the way he goes into shutdown mode when under extreme emotional stress.

The big one is the fight with his parents in Doctor Bashir, I Presume, where he stumbles into the hallway and doesn’t even make it any father than just outside the door before collapsing:

Inquisition also features a similar Wall Slide when he’s in a holding cell:

I also get shutdown vibes from the scene in Tears of the Prophets where he announces that he’s unable to save Jadzia - he’s just folded in on himself, and he mumbles his lines through gritted teeth as if he has to force the words out. And there’s his behaviour in The Sound of Her Voice - withdrawing from other people is pretty basic depression and burnout stuff, but there are moments that feel very autism-flavoured to me, particularly when Kasidy tries to make small talk with him and he gives a clipped, one word response.

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I am so so so sorry for the sudden unplanned hiatus. Between some work, home renovation, health stuff, and getting back into art, I've been pretty exhausted beyond belief. And I think I was just on this site so much that I was constantly overwhelmed and exhausted and just refused to let myself take a break. The hiatus was definitely needed.

Unfortunately, I herniated my spine again and I'm bedbound for the moment. But I AM around on discord (I'm on dnd bc I can't stand the sounds and notifs all over the screen but I'm always about)

I'm coming back! If you'd like, some art I did down below! ft my dnd grump, Mythe (ver 2.0 tiefling edition)

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DISHONORED (2012, dev. Arkane Studios) // DRAGON AGE: INQUISTION (2014, dev. BioWare) // BALDUR'S GATE 3 (2023, dev. Larian Studios)

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Great Leon, now look at your surroundings

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@galaxythixf said: [ SLUMBER ]: sender picks up and carries the receiver because they're so sound asleep that they won't easily wake up. + Reverse - Fade to Sova

- carrying || accepting -

. From the time she'd joined them on the Vulture until they boarded post mission, Sova's attention remained split between objective and Fade.

Anyone could see she'd pushed herself too hard- what part of her deal with Nightmare strained her the most, Sova didn't know, and if it was Nightmare or just her lack of sleep, he also couldn't tell; either way, he knew she was beyond running on fumes. She performed admirable, nevertheless, just a missed opportunity here, a delayed reaction there, Sova's scope quick to pick up perceived slack.

A glance told him that the weight he felt on his shoulder midway home was her head, Fade's soft snoring mostly drowned out by the hum of engines. It was uninterrupted even as they touched down and Sova gently attempted to rouse her. When that didn't work, he instead carefully picked her up, cradling her against his chest and hoping the edge of his chestguard was padded enough by his cloak.

As certain as he was that she would dislike waking in the infirmary, he would rather her have a place to rest where Sage could keep an eye on any worrying developments while she took her well deserved rest.

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"Hey, Julian? I was going through my card collection, you know, for Valentine's Day? And I thought this was perfect for you. I hope you like it!"

. He takes the offered card, opening it with a bright grin on his face.

"Oh, this is fantastic, thank you Shy!" Arms wrapped around her shoulders, placing a kiss on her temple. "This is perfect, because I've got one for you as well! The bubbles apparently smell like strawberry?"

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2/11

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Tough week, innit?