long-lost-protoss

[long-lost-protoss]

Just pure happiness and love. No evil. Just purity and innocence. I dunno what I’m talking about. But I look forward having a day off. LOL

Yes, I am still working on their names. 

[long-lost-protoss]

strong, shirtless man: *gestures to biceps* check out these swords bro

guy: uhh… don’t you mean guns…?

strong, shirtless man: no *flexes with audible SHIIING noise*

[long-lost-protoss]

why is Misopatris Like That™ and how has he not been culled

He’s like that because he’s just a sweet soft boy on the inside but being born Tal’darim has turned him into a sinammon roll full of Posturing and Drama. Epistrontis takes things more seriously and is probably at least 75% of the reason that his brother never got stabbed (not that Epi isn’t also a sweet and kind boy on the inside, but he learned the lessons of the Tal’darim better).

[long-lost-protoss]

Oh god the parkour incident

Xyldrun and Adarxos specialize in covert assassination, and a lot of their job involves them sneaking around and well, parkour. So the fact that while teaching, both Epi and Miso kept falling flat on their face was absolutely hilarious.

Misopatris 16

snrk

Miso is not the poster child for impulse control- no one who uses $300 hand cream is. He pokes his poor brother, makes his brother feel how soft his hands are, tries out new lotions on a whim, and decided to be a doctor on impulse (although he loves it).

@long-lost-protoss does Xyl or Ada want to talk about the parkour incident, or how Miso leaps on them to show his affection, or nah?

[long-lost-protoss]

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A post shared by Каракет Ариэль (@ariel.caracat)

“Again, Daddy! Again!”

By Каракет Ариэль

[long-lost-protoss]

WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH MY CHARACTER? (an ask game!)

Understanding a character’s flaws is key to making them well-rounded and believable, so send me a number (and a character, if there’s more than one option) and I’ll tell you:

a trait they have too much of  (ex. too much pride = arrogance)

a trait they don’t have enough of (ex. too little pride = insecurity)

a trait they express in the wrong way

a trait they’re ashamed of

a trait they’re not ashamed of (but maybe should be)

a bad habit

something they do that hurts themself

something they do that hurts others

a reason (or excuse) they haven’t improved on any of the above OR

a way that they are improving on any of the above!

[long-lost-protoss]

what does Ta'lack's scar look like

He's got a big one right over his eye, but being a Tal'darim, hes got a lot of little ones too!

[long-lost-protoss]

Reblog if your muse has scars.

[long-lost-protoss]

♬+ For Hannya and Onzi

Onzadyn was either asleep, or stubbornly pretending to be asleep because she knew full well that her living pillow couldn’t physically oust her from the couch. Hannya was feeling more than a little squished, but even after her strongest shove, the protoss had barely budged, so she had given up and resigned herself to being crushed. If she was spitefully humming a lullaby to try and annoy Onzadyn into awakening, well, the protoss would just have to call her out on it to get her to stop.

Really, it was good that Dynie was sleeping, if she actually was. It had been crisis after crisis, and even Hannya was feeling the strain. Poor Immardar and Onzadyn would surely be feeling the worst of it, since they were the ones actually in the line of fire when things spontaneously combusted. There was nothing wrong with sleeping off the stress of everything.

“Making a wish to let us go back to our homeland… Let us go back to our home, let us go back to our home, let us go back to our h-” Hannya didn’t know when she’d stopped humming the old lullaby and started singing.

At least Dynie still seemed to be sound asleep. Lucky her. Hannya knew that she couldn’t carry a tune to save her life. Embarrassed despite herself, she looked away from the cutely sleeping protoss and hummed a different tune. No one could prove anything… Right?

[long-lost-protoss]

She did miss it, in a way. The business of home life was something she had been sorely lacking in for more than half a decade. Though she wouldn’t be the first to admit it, it was calming to be among this kind of playful banter. Onzadyn sat as a quiet observer to their interaction, smiling and laughing lightly when the pen was thrown for a second time. She tucked her comforting cloak around her, nestling into the curve of the couch. 

Perhaps she could call this home, in time. 

“Immardar,” Hannya pretended to chew on her stylus to hide a grin at his expense, “I thought you said she had a full wardrobe.”

I said she likely had more than I did when I entered your service, Immardar huffed in response. Might I remind you that we both agreed that a single item of clothing was unfit?

Ignoring the mock-offended peacock in the room, Hannya turned to Onzadyn with a smile. “Apparently, the first time I took him out on one of these… expeditions, his armor got stained from all the soot and smoke. He’s been distraught ever since. I think that it can be cleaned off without much effort, but apparently I’m not the expert on protoss armor.”

Immardar put on an admirably snooty affect for a being without a nose. I look better clean, not covered in black smears from head to toe. It’s illegal to mar such beauty, you know.

“Immy! Stop that!” Hannya laughed, unabashedly, and chucked the stylus at his head; ignoring Immardar’s casual catch, she looked back at Onzadyn. “More seriously, or at least as seriously as I can manage with this comedian in the room, if I do have to make the trip you don’t have to come with me. I may not officially make the laws, but people do know about them- and sometimes I have to make examples of people who break them. If this person’s actually been smuggling more than guns without reporting it… The few things I don’t want being smuggled onto my planet are the ones that require examples being made.”

[long-lost-protoss]

Onzadyn tilted her head and half closed her eyes in humor, watching the exchange between Immardar and Hannya. It wasn't unlike the people she had come to befriend on Bacchus. Her hearts longed quietly for their times in the mess halls, or out wandering the busy red light district. Sadie, with her golden hair and brilliant smile, always did her best to make Onzadyn feel at home. Perhaps, home could be here too. She let her thoughts drift slightly, unaware, before catching herself. No time for that now.

Onzadyn sat back on the couch and curled her legs to the side, tucking them partially under her backside. I wish to come with you, and be of aid. If any danger arises, one guard is better than two, yes? And besides, I would love to see how this golden peacock of yours is in combat. She shot a playful look towards him, her eyes crinkling at the sides. It should be interesting.

“Immardar,” Hannya pretended to chew on her stylus to hide a grin at his expense, “I thought you said she had a full wardrobe.”

I said she likely had more than I did when I entered your service, Immardar huffed in response. Might I remind you that we both agreed that a single item of clothing was unfit?

Ignoring the mock-offended peacock in the room, Hannya turned to Onzadyn with a smile. “Apparently, the first time I took him out on one of these… expeditions, his armor got stained from all the soot and smoke. He’s been distraught ever since. I think that it can be cleaned off without much effort, but apparently I’m not the expert on protoss armor.”

Immardar put on an admirably snooty affect for a being without a nose. I look better clean, not covered in black smears from head to toe. It’s illegal to mar such beauty, you know.

“Immy! Stop that!” Hannya laughed, unabashedly, and chucked the stylus at his head; ignoring Immardar’s casual catch, she looked back at Onzadyn. “More seriously, or at least as seriously as I can manage with this comedian in the room, if I do have to make the trip you don’t have to come with me. I may not officially make the laws, but people do know about them- and sometimes I have to make examples of people who break them. If this person’s actually been smuggling more than guns without reporting it… The few things I don’t want being smuggled onto my planet are the ones that require examples being made.”

[long-lost-protoss]

Dark armor? Now, that caught her attention. What ever would you need that for? She drifted her thought towards Immardar, hoping to disturb her new employer as little as possible. Hannya held more cards than Onzadyn did in their little gamble for the Artifact. However, Onzadyn did have the fact that Hannya now had double the protection to wager. On this planet, she imagined all the help she could get was beneficial.

Onzadyn shifted against the door frame, padding from her spot over to an unoccupied section of couch. It was a bit too small for her liking, but it would do. Now, she directed her thoughts to Hannya. If I am to partake in this ordeal surrounding 'dark armor', then I am sorry to inform that I am lacking in that category.

All my fault? Immardar drew himself up, looking down at her with humorously exaggerated outrage. You startled me. I have only the one trick, you know! What else was I supposed to do? Actually attempt to de-escalate the situation like a normal protoss? I kick things. I don’t talk with them.

He smiled easily, the joke finished, and settled back down. The door up there is the cockpit, and you know where you entered from. The other one is quarters and the cargo area. The large door without the keypad has a shower, and you can raid it for clothes, too, if you feel inclined to do so. They might be a little large for you, but it is what it is.

[long-lost-protoss]

Once the all-clear was received, she began padding her way towards his energy. The pulse wasn’t hard to track, considering it wasn’t very far from her, and it gave her a chance to look around the ship before meandering that way. Onzadyn took her sweet time wandering the halls, touching a worn metal panel here and there. The construction of the ship was more obviously Terran in these halls, and in some places she had to duck to avoid hitting the frame of a doorway. Oh well. The price one pays for keeping the company of Terrans.  Besides, it wasn’t like she had much of a choice. She owed a debt to this woman now, and she wasn’t the kind to skip out with that on her shoulders.  After a short time of walking around and getting accustomed to this new environment, she made her way to the room. When she arrived, she quickly surveyed the room. Onzadyn had never seen Hannya without the expensive garb, but it didn’t come as a surprise to see that she had donned ‘comfy clothes’, as Sadie had put it once. Hannya seemed rather comfortable toiling away at whatever paperwork she was doing, so she turned to Immardar.  Well, what now? She asked towards him.

All my fault? Immardar drew himself up, looking down at her with humorously exaggerated outrage. You startled me. I have only the one trick, you know! What else was I supposed to do? Actually attempt to de-escalate the situation like a normal protoss? I kick things. I don’t talk with them.

He smiled easily, the joke finished, and settled back down. The door up there is the cockpit, and you know where you entered from. The other one is quarters and the cargo area. The large door without the keypad has a shower, and you can raid it for clothes, too, if you feel inclined to do so. They might be a little large for you, but it is what it is.

[long-lost-protoss]

An awesome cutie Shelara for awesome @long-lost-protoss! P.S: I’m thinking about opening requests for traditional sketches like this one, what do you guys think?

[long-lost-protoss]

Sexy Boy

Keep reading

[long-lost-protoss]

a draw your OTP I guess???

credit and tag me if u use it please~

[long-lost-protoss]

The bathroom she turned into was smaller than she had anticipated. Wide-set panels lined the floor of the room, with similar Terran structures along the walls. Human utilities were as expected, but what got her was the shower. It was...large, to say the least. It appeared as though it had been modified to fit someone to her stature than to a human’s. Probably for Immardar. She hummed to herself, standing at the threshold of the room. Well, time to bathe.

Her shower didn’t take very long, and was rather pleasant. Some soaps she recognized as concoctions fitting for her skin, which she used happily. Some vague thought crossed her mind that they smelled familiar, but promptly dismissed it. She found towels to wrap herself in, and shuffled into the closet area Immardar had spoke of. 

Not that her clothes weren’t dirty, but by the Gods, there was a decent amount for her to choose from. All sorts of textiles, patterns, and colors lined the inside area. She decided against being gaudily flashy (like someone she knew), and opted for a more toned down shirt and a pair of slightly baggy shorts. Once she was dressed, she donned her cape and accessories and sent a searching pulse out to find where the other two had gone. 

All my fault? Immardar drew himself up, looking down at her with humorously exaggerated outrage. You startled me. I have only the one trick, you know! What else was I supposed to do? Actually attempt to de-escalate the situation like a normal protoss? I kick things. I don’t talk with them.

He smiled easily, the joke finished, and settled back down. The door up there is the cockpit, and you know where you entered from. The other one is quarters and the cargo area. The large door without the keypad has a shower, and you can raid it for clothes, too, if you feel inclined to do so. They might be a little large for you, but it is what it is.