monsccn - Tumblr blog

[monsccn]

                                    He had this look in his eyes                                              that made you wonder                                           just how m a n y people he’s killed. 

                                    ( And this… )                                             grin                                          that made you realize

                                         he’s probably lost count.

[monsccn]

Times have been rough and I find it hard to sit and concentrate as much as I would like, so I often try to just do a page full of very simple sketches, poses, whatever to practice. Keep details to a minimum, stay on track, etc. Just gotta draw and not sweat the small stuff. Monsoon is the victim of choice this time. 

[monsccn]

A last time for everything…

[monsccn]

We fight for justice

In a forgotten place

Fulfill our duty

Then vanish without a trace

We are the winds of destruction!

[monsccn]

[monsccn]

[monsccn]

Sam’s Zandatsu (斬奪)

[monsccn]

@ciircumserpent

     While the world turned and focused on the events that made the most noise, Desperado reaped the benefits of blind eyes turned elsewhere. Sometimes interest was perked, a nose would sniff to close, but in the end there was hardly a cause for concern. Information still flowed, data got lost, and silent blades reaped the rewards.

     In a warehouse remotely located well away from civilization, delicate treasures were stored by secretive organizations that whispered plots of new world orders. Patriots, madmen, made no difference to Monsoon. He deployed to kill and steal, what he’d take will benefit future upgrades to his cybernetic body. 

     What he wasn’t aware of was another shadow that wanted the same thing as he did but, well, they weren’t so quick to kill. They’d nearly collided when Monsoon glided behind a guard and slit his throat...

[monsccn]

beginnings

     Desperado had to have existed prior to 2016 (the wiki’s date) as Monsoon survived the Killing Fields ( 1975-1979 ) and, we assume, joined the PMC a handful of years afterwards after his near death in a gang shooting. I’m not going to say Desperado was under the radar before the events of MGR but it didn’t make a whole lot of noise until 2018.

     He became a cyborg early on thanks to Desperado and, no doubt, went through many upgrades as cybernetic technology progressed. I feel it wouldn’t be a stretch putting him around MGS 2 and 4′s timeline considering MGR follows at 2018 where he is slain by Jack the Ripper.

     With what we know about Desperado and how their purpose is to disrupt the peace and fuel the war economy. Monsoon, during his early years with the PMC, thrived as a solo assassin. The support and merge with World Marshal and Colorado’s Senator took a lot of that away from him. Having to work so closely with Armstrong is... unfortunate.

[monsccn]

                 Starter call.

[monsccn]

you… complicated motherfucker…

[monsccn]

(     *     ‘SALEM’S LOT PROMPTS   !    

——     stephen king.

❛  alone. yes, that’s the key word, the most awful word in the english tongue.  ❜

❛  the basis of all human fears. a closed door, slightly ajar.  ❜

❛  crying was like pissing everything out on the ground.  ❜

❛  there are no words for childhood’s dark turns and exhalations.  ❜

❛  a child who counts the cost is a child no longer.  ❜

❛  if a fear cannot be articulated, it cannot be conquered.  ❜

❛  the only thing more natural than death was sex.  ❜

❛  at three in the morning the blood runs slow and thick, and slumber is heavy.  ❜

❛  if a man dethrones god in his heart, satan must ascend to his position.  ❜

❛  the bestiality of the night rises on tenebrous wings. the vampire’s time has come.  ❜

❛  it would have been better if there had been pain. pain was at least real.  ❜

❛  there is every possibility that some of us, or all of us, may live and triumph.  ❜

❛  the act of moving forward at all became heroism.  ❜

❛  in the midst of life, we are in death.  ❜

❛  horror is destroyed by boredom. love is a dream.  ❜

❛  the town cares for devil’s work no more than it cares for god’s or man’s.  ❜

❛  it knew darkness. and darkness was enough.  ❜

❛  we’d all be scared if we knew what was swept under the carpet of each other’s minds.  ❜

❛  there is no life here but the slow death of days.  ❜

❛  it is almost as though the town knows the evil was coming and the shape it would take.  ❜

❛  it seems the more you have the more aggressive you become.  ❜

❛  without faith, the cross is only wood, the bread baked wheat, the wine sour grapes.  ❜

❛  houses absorb the emotions that are spent in them.  ❜

❛  the people elected me. but who elected the people?  ❜

[monsccn]

      As the world 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘴                And I fight for air…

                  As I 𝙘𝙧𝙖𝙨𝙝 and 𝙗𝙪𝙧𝙣                            Like I just don’t care…

                   It’s ᴍʏ ᴅᴀʏ to be brilliant.

[monsccn]

                 Starter call.

[monsccn]

J E T S T R E A M

       Sam slept deeply and, for him, for once, it was one of these nights that went by without leaving a single trace, a single memory of where his awaken mind, while his body was resting, had wandered.

       Usually visited by nightmares of his past life too, he welcomed this perfect absolute absence of dreams, at least of the memories of them when he awoke at dawn. It felt like an angel had been laying by his side during the whole night to soothe his anguish, to cure him from his pain, watching over him. It had been the case after all.

       Several times, during the night, the samurai smiled sleepily, all groggy, a drowsy affectionate smile, while his calloused hands roamed over Monsoon’s form, under the blankets. Then he’d go back to sleep, to his dark sleep, his dark hollow sleep.

       It was his voice, this loving voice, calling him using such gentle words, that woke him up. The big guy was still trapped in the tangled bedding, obviously missing the body that had been so close to him all night long.

       — Hey… He rasped in a husky throaty voice, made even more guttural and deep by the sleep deprivation and the alcohol he had consumed, his narrow sunken eyes, gleaming with something that could only be called happiness, scrutinizing Monsoon’s silhouette, registering each detail of this precise moment.

       He threw his head back slightly, beckoning for another kiss, hungry for love, when they hadn’t time for it. Not now at least.

       — I hadn’t slept like this in years. Not after the murder of my father, Sam finally replied sincerely, throwing a complicit tender wink at him.

       A gentle reflex. Before leaving the warm bed reluctantly to stand up, naked as the day he was born. Whistling softly, he then wrapped his strong hairy arms around Monsoon’s slender form and faked to pick him up only to press his scarred lips against his shoulder blade.

        — What about you ?

     “ I slept well. Not much of a surprise considering the man I had wrapped myself around. I’ll have to steal you away to my room next time. “

     Nay a single thing about this morning struck up an unpleasant nerve for the assassin. He felt content, without caffeine, for the first time in years. While he smiled and gazed into the mirror, a brush pulled back white hair from glossy eyes. It was set down the moment Sam stepped within Monsoon’s sphere of personal space / his posture naturally resting into the burly man that so kindly supported it. Too bad they couldn’t stay this way for the rest of the day, lounge around and continue last night’s bliss.

     Body still damp, hair wet, he would not say no to an invitation for a shared shower. Might be tight quarters, Monsoon didn’t care. Could he make up a believable excuse for tardiness? Maybe. Two minds coming together to create just a few more moments of delinquency. He feels like a teenager again; defiant and wild, running drugs, killing competition, and indulging in his desires. Get carried away with a kiss, hands wandering...

     “ Ah, Minuano, I already knew we’d make a good team. How wonderful this leap of faith has turned out. The deal breaker is how you make your coffee.  “

     A joke, of course. The smile framing pale lips remained to show ever clean teeth. He breathes a sigh before pulling away only to turn around and loop arms around his Samurai’s shoulder. When did they have to leave? Not soon. Please not so soon. He’d kill for the ability to slow time and fool around ( the mischievous glimmer hadn’t left his eyes ). Hand dropping, fingers brushing Samuel’s chest. Hard to believe someone like Monsoon could be so tempted with such a brute in command over both of their heads.

     The ride out, the retrieval, killings; there would be time for messing around while waiting for extraction. Listen to him... How disgusting his thoughts were. Where had his restraint gone? Shaking his head with a small chuckle, he pushed them away and sent a signal for his weaponry to be retrieved and his ID added to the roster.

     “ If only you could read my thoughts. We’d get nothing done if I were in charge. Shower? “

[monsccn]

Monsoon doodles for stress relief.

[monsccn]

Sakurai and his team did it. They really fixed Snake’s ass. Legends.