reliquiiae-blog

[reliquiiae-blog]

text message starters pt. 1

[ text; ] this is a terrible idea

[ text; ] fuCK you f*ck your cartoon hotdog husband fuck his stupid sunglasses and FUCK the ketchup kids (and fuck THEIR sunglasses)

[ text; ] i need help.

[ text; ] i don' t know wh a t to fuckign do w i th myself a nymo re

[ text; ] i got a dog!!!!! I GOT A DOG!!!!

[ text; ] please let me come over and pet your dog?

[ text; ] anyway i'm bleeding, like, really badly. no worries though i'm good

[ text; ] i love death and dying

[ text; ] i fucked up. i fucked up really badly.

[ text; ] I BROKE EVERYTHING

[ text; ] AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

[ text; ] don't freak out but i'm in the hospital.

[ text; ] leave me alone.

[ text; ] i said not to talk to me.

[ text; ] QUICK WHAT'S YOUR FAVORITE HIGH SCHOOL MUSICAL SONG

[ text; ] some-

[ text; ] this might be the last text i ever send you.

[ text; ] i'm going to do it.

[ text; ] i'm sorry.

[ text; ] fCUK I PUNCHED MYSELF I NTHE FACE

[ text; ] i'm playing club penguin and you wouldn't believe the shit these 9 year olds are saying to me

[ text; ] you okay?

[ text; ] i'm so worried please text back please please please

[ text; ] 'i don't drink coffee,' i say, before chugging an entire pot of it

[ text; ] what would happen if i just, like, downed seven five-hour energies. does that equal 35 hours of energy

[ text; ] brb, descending into hell.

[ text; ] it's 3 am and i can't sleep

[ text; ] GO TO BED!!!!!!!!

[reliquiiae-blog]

PROFILE: richard simmons.

the prolonged war was over, now. has been for a while. kimball had to shoulder two armies, a few in the feds still didn’t completely trust her. felix was dead, locus was gone; a huge relief, if anything.

the reds & blues were still waiting for someone to come get them. the longer they waited, the more it felt like no one was coming; & the longer they waited, the less simmons cared about leaving, anyway. he’s grown to like chorus  ( don’t ask him how, he doesn’t really know, either ). he’s comfortable around his squad, found a family in them he wasn’t quite expecting. a thousand & one times better than the excuse of a family he was born with. he couldn’t just leave them.

familiar voice over the comms interrupted his maintenance on a needler. almost didn’t believe it, not at first, thought he was imagining things. the weapon just about fell from his hands when it registered who it belonged to.

with church’s, well, destruction, & then washington merely disappearing…tucker & caboose had taken it a little hard. for the reds, it was difficult to get used to a practically empty team of blues. why would the former agent come to the maroon armored first? wouldn’t he want his team?

it took him a moment to himself to respond, hesitance laced within breath.

❝ …washington? is that you? where the hell have you been? ❞

Washington half expected the reaction, but also didn’t quite expect it at all.

Taking a moment to let the silence wash over them, David shifted his glance to other objects - including the one in his hands. There were more important matters to discuss than where he had been, but he guessed he owed an explanation. Though, he probably should’ve saved it for Tucker and Caboose first.

   “I’ve been off-world. Stole a ship, got the hell out of here, went to do my own thing for a little while. Hard work being a vigilante... Or, I guess I’m a bounty hunter too. Depends.” A pause. “Haven’t really lost track of you guys either. I’ve been making sure nobody gets to you, but... Well, it’s proving to be difficult. Hargrove still has some old operatives trying to seek some sort of revenge.”

Straight to the point, he reminded himself.

   “Anyway, I’m not here to stay. I’m actually here because I need your help with something.”

He glanced to the item in hand - some sort of alien technology and a container for something, he had guessed. Though, whatever it was, he couldn’t read the inscriptions on it and therefore couldn’t open it. Knowing that Simmons was rather smart, he hoped that he might be able to decipher how to read it and reveal what it contained.

After all, it was more trouble to just obtain the damned thing.

   “I found something in my travels, something that was obviously valuable to someone because I took it off a target that was well known and had a large bounty. It’s some sort of alien tech, but I can’t make heads or tails with it and the writing. I hoped that maybe you could help me open it - seemed like the same things that were here...” A pause. “... I could just ask Grey about it, but I’d rather not.”

[reliquiiae-blog]

PROFILE: codename “locus”.

The card had directions to a known abandoned warehouse. It was, of course, a fitting place for someone who wanted to be invisible to lay low.

In the warehouse, Locus had set up a small place underground, a small holographic map set up on a table and the ability to switch to a board with all the known details of Felix’s escape, what he’s done and where he may go from there.

Beyond that there was one makeshift cot and a large crate that clearly held an assortment of weapons if the SAW sitting on the top was anything to go by.

He knows if Felix catches him, he was going to either get a knife to the chest or a bullet in the brain. Or both.

His only help was someone he wouldn’t call an old friend but rather a hopeful ally.

David followed the instructions word for word. Good thing was that he managed to find his way to the warehouse with little to no trouble, his eyes glancing over it briefly before slowly entering the area.

A warehouse - and an abandoned one, at that - was a pretty clever idea for someone who wanted to lay low and hide. Though Washington had a different approach to hiding, which usually involved faux identifications and simple hacking to alter any camera feed of himself, he was mildly impressed with the choice of location from Locus.

Finding the exact spot, Wash looked over the setup that the other had. It was actually pretty good - for himself, he always had these things on hand. All weapons were carefully stored away, knives were in multiple compartments in his armor, and he’d sleep wherever he could.

This was probably a better setup.

   “Alright, I’m here. You gonna fill me in or am I going to look around and find out for myself?”

He then wandered over to the table with the holographic map, looking at it a little curiously. A bit of tech that must’ve proved to be helpful in many situations - Washington put it in his mental list of upgrades he could use for his travels.

Call To Arms (An Unlikely Team) ||CLOSED||

[reliquiiae-blog]

PROFILE: alpha.

“We’ll need them too- Trust me. We need all the help we can get. This new Project is…”

He shook his head, but then spoke aloud, speaking to someone else entirely. “Loyalty, can you bring up a couple pictures as I talk? …Thanks.” By that command, a little hologram flickered up, briefly displaying the Freelancer logo before changing to all that Washington had been trying to get at: Agent profiles.

“This can’t be a divide and conquer affair. There’s no leaderboard, and the Agents are tight knit. And, I kinda don’t want them killed either. Lola can get into their heads and break the false memories, maybe, but there’s the other Beta fragments to deal with too, and she’s not… Strong, as them. She’s a double fragment, but…”

The hologram seems to shudder at the very mention of ‘Beta fragments’, but, as if to cover it up, it winks out and starts displaying the first Agent. And it’s Delta. That same ridiculously green armour, but now a sniper rifle in hand. Name listed as Dallas Church, role as sniper, module listed only as ‘heavily modified master key’.

Seeing the AI made him tense, briefly - his trust in AIs was still very low, and the scar on the back of his neck had to show for it from the time Epsilon was implanted. That was so long ago, years by now, but...

Washington took notice of the agent profiles, the same agent profiles he had tried to obtain for himself, and looked over “Dallas Church” with the profile they had on him. Seemed strikingly similar to the Delta he knew; the memories of York stirred up. It might have been just him, but that green armor and the name of Delta as his freelancer name had really hit home for him. Nostalgia, perhaps.

He had paid attention to what Alpha was saying, however. After a moment, he took a deep breath.

   “They won’t be harmed. I’ll try and get in contact with the others to help, but... It’s hard with people wanting me dead and taking any opportunity to try and use the Reds and Blues against me.”

A pause, as Washington rubbed the back of his neck instinctively.

   “I’ve been wanting to target this place for a while, and I’ve been trying to get the information on all the agents. They have the files much more secure...” Washington quickly grabbed his datapad, glancing over the screen briefly before looking to Alpha once more. “... Got my hands on the AI profiles only. It’d take me ages to get to the agent profiles, so this night is getting better. But...”

[reliquiiae-blog]

@lavahandles liked (x). 

Go figure he’d be returning to Chorus so soon, and for the most unexpected of reasons - while his old friends were relatively safe, as someone who’s running around and keeping tabs on them, there were still some risks. From what he could gather, they were being hunted. From old operatives of Hargrove or just a few people looking for some sort of revenge, it didn’t matter.

He would’ve just told them, but this time it was too dangerous. He had to take care of it himself.

Washington did try to avoid detection from the Reds and Blues as he operated, setting up a temporary base far away from their locations, but there’s no way he could avoid them forever when his targets were edging closer to them and organizing strike attacks. That’s where he would get caught.

He’d manage to gun down one of the targets, with precision aiming through the skull, but someone had to have heard it. Someone should’ve known he was there.

   “... Should’ve gone with the knife.”

Lowering his weapon, he gazed around the area behind the orange visor. He was really hoping nobody heard it.

[reliquiiae-blog]

SEND “BEEP” FOR A RANDOM TEXT FROM MY MUSE.

I’ll randomly generate a number between 1-29 for one of the following:

A funny text

A sad text

A scared text

A late night text

An excited text

A taunting text

An angry text

A frustrated text

A concerned text

A loving text

A confession via text

An accidental text

A wrong number text

A text that wasn’t sent

A text for help

A helpful text

A comforting text

A drunk text

A bad idea text

A rude text

A long text

A one word text

A text asking for advice

A final text

A flirty text

A hyper text

A weird text

A sarcastic text

A heartbreaking text

[reliquiiae-blog]

(( i’m finally on since it’s the start of holidays! i’m gonna be doing drafts, making a few themes for christmas, and then i’m gonna set up a queue ready to go! i’m honestly excited to be back on w/ash. i’ll be coming up with a new formatting style too! ))

[reliquiiae-blog]

( resetprogrampfl. )

“Well, what’s easier? Somehow procuring an AI to run a Project you shouldn’t even be thinking about restarting, or ripping all of those fucking AIs right out of a monster’s head when it was vulnerable?” God the bitterness just pours out through the gaps in his words now, angry and upset. This is a fresh wound, angry and bleeding. “But of course when they found out we were fucked up too much - most of us - to run modules they just turned us into their brainwashed Agents-”

He cuts off, mumbles a “Sorry, Loyalty,” that doesn’t seem to be directed at Washington, and tries to control his breathing.

When he finally seems calm enough to speak, he looks Washington straight in the eye, raising himself to his full height. “I- We need your help. We need everyone’s help.”

Maybe it wasn’t the same Alpha. Maybe this one was bitter, angry, too long on the run with only himself and his AI to count on. But his purpose didn’t point towards taking down somebody he needed help from.

At the moment Alpha started rambling, Washington reminisced quickly on the Alpha he knew. Not as aggressive, that was for sure. Not as bitter as well, though it was still a predominant trait. The man standing in front of him, with near venomous words, nearly made Wash fall back into his old habits - retreat and regret. Yet, he stood steadily, waiting for the man to recollect himself.

David had learned a thing or two about taking on the stress like this.

Though curious as to who Loyalty was (at first, he assumed it was the AI, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on which AI it was that had Loyalty as their trait), he pushed the thoughts aside, keeping quiet for a moment as Alpha then asked for his help. At first, David wasn’t sure if he was able to give the help the other required - he had been in and out of contact with the Reds and Blues, with encrypted messages that’d take them forever to decipher. He was a lone wolf now, not a pack leader. But, he couldn’t not help.

      “I... I don’t know how much help I’ll be, anymore. Last I contacted the Reds and Blues was a month or two ago. But...” A pause. “... I’m going to give you all the help I can.”

[reliquiiae-blog]

( resetprogrampfl. )

A soft grunt, a hand reaching up to rub at his face tiredly. “Thought my face would tip you off. Or my voice…” A flash of bitterness runs across his face, but he ends up just shrugging. “I certainly remember you. Running two teams of near useless sim troopers all around the place trying to fight the fucking Meta. God, I’m not sure whether to thank you or sock you in the face for that. Maybe if the EMP hadn’t gone off, we’d actually have been offed a little more permanently, and this never would have- Okay, okay, I know Lola, I’ll get to the fucking point.”

He brings his eyes up to meet Washington’s and, for the briefest of moments, they seem to glow. When he speaks, it’s full of so much sheathed anger and bitterness that it barely seems like it could be him. “You can call me Alpha. After all, that’s what you told me I was.” A laugh. It’s not happy. “That’s what I am now. Agent-fucking-Alpha, ‘Hyper-Lethal asset’.”

      “... Shit.”

Shit.

It really was Church. Or, Alpha. Either way, Washington felt a cold wave wash over him, and he couldn’t distinguish if it’s fear or relief. Maybe it was neither. He didn’t know how to react, how to feel, and now that he was well and truly speechless, he didn’t even know if he could manage the words he wanted to say.

He had so many questions swarming in his head, but as soon as he mentioned being the Hyper-Lethal asset, he flinched. He hardly ever flinched but it was his first reaction. Was he an agent of the new Project Freelancer?

Something didn’t add up. Either he was here to take him down, one of the last remnants of the old Project Freelancer, or he genuinely needed his help, for whatever reason. Though, he did mention that he was a wanted man. There was no way that his goal was to take him down for Project Freelancer. Besides, there was something about a rogue AI and freelancer, but he couldn’t exactly get the information required...

      “I thought you were gone. How the fuck did you end up an agent?” A pause. “How the fuck did you survive?”

Was he the same Alpha he remembered, truly? Wash couldn’t be sure, his stormy colored eyes watching the other, warily. Paranoia was a bitch.

[reliquiiae-blog]

( flowercrownedmeta. )

He tilted his head to one side, considering the idea before giving a pleased nod, still purring away. Seemed he could multitask. Either way, he was already picking a route in his mind.

‘We can go around the ship. That would be nice. We can swing around the mess hall and pick up some snacks too.’

Nodding, Wash grinned as he relaxed immensely in the other’s arms. The idea of going around the ship and dropping by the mess hall for snacks seemed to appeal to him, and quite a lot as well. He decided in his mind to go with chocolate for a snack, if there was any hidden away somewhere. Surely he could remember where everyone stashes their sweets.

      “Seems like a great idea! Let’s go do that.”

[reliquiiae-blog]

( resetprogrampfl. )

There’s a laugh, and in no way containing even a single drop of humor. It’s a bitter thing. “Yeah, that’s almost an understatement.”

Compared to the hustle and bustle inside the bar, the night air was quiet, few people on the streets. In fact, there was nobody at all in this back alley that led into the bar, except some drunk passed out way at the back. It was far enough from them, either way.

Briefly, eyes unfocus, as if listening something only he could hear- Washington might catch the smallest glimpse of the neural implants that housed AI as the man turned to glance back and forth in paranoia. And, an AI chip nestled within.

But then he’d turned to face Wash again, refocusing, and the glimpse was gone once more. He leaned against the wall, a little bit of exhaustion allowed to seep in for a split second before being snapped back again. Hidden. “God. You know how long it took me to try and find you? And you weren’t even where I thought you were gonna be. I was literally just about to find a guy to take me all the way to fucking Chorus, and then…” A helpless gesture towards Wash. “There you were. Not with my team though, which complicates the fuck out of- Oh.”

He stares off into space again, and when he turns his attention back to Washington it’s with an unsure look. “…Uh. Yeah. Do you know who I am?”

Washington had noticed the AI chip. He didn’t question it, at first, but then it took him the moment to realize that the other had an AI accompanying him. Last he checked, only freelancers got those kind of implants, and he definitely didn’t remember this guy being around during his Project Freelancer days. Besides, the Meta would’ve gone after him. He was sure of it.

Then he mentioned Chorus.

He was going to go to Chorus in search of Washington, and... Also his team? What did he mean, Wash wondered, as he looked at him with slight confusion. The only teams he was with were the Reds and Blues, and since the Federal Army of Chorus and the New Republic didn’t count, there was nobody else he could refer to.

      “No, I don’t know who you are. I’ve been... Preoccupied, trying to get information.” He paused, tempted to take his helmet off, to try and maintain direct eye contact, but he didn’t risk it just yet. Instead, he decided to monitor the other, analyzing him, trying to work out what he did and didn’t have on his persona. It was sort of like a scan, but it was incredibly hard to get that tech to work. Seems it wasn’t going to agree with him anytime soon.

David sighed quietly, before slowly reaching up to remove his helmet again. At least he felt safer to be able to do so.

      “I haven’t been on Chorus in months. Kept my tracks covered up. Couldn’t risk anyone trying to find me again... And yet, here we are.” A pause. “So you know I’m Agent Washington. Who are you?”

[reliquiiae-blog]

( brokenunscmonster. )

Locus flinched at hearing that name, the name of his armour, reminded once more he hadn’t been human for the longest time. He tried to calm the itching panic that rose with haunting memories of the past.

“Felix is alive.” he felt the words leave his lips and fall through the air heavily. He knew this news wouldn’t be the best but he shifted, head turning to sweep the area with his eyes.

“I suggest we go elsewhere, Lykos.” Locus said suddenly, someone passing and nodding to Locus with a low ‘Baem’. Locus sneered at them from within his helmet and moved to leave Washington.

If he followed then he did, but Locus needed to get out of sight. It was a risk doing this. He flicked Wash a card, and in moments, his gear activated and he was just…

Gone.

Lykos. The name David had made for himself, the name that people grew accustomed to calling him, the name that Locus had just referred him to. He didn’t know why it bothered him to hear his new codename, but he guessed that old habits die hard.

Before he could question how Felix was alive, Locus disappeared. Wash was about to follow him, about to let Locus lead the way, but he figured that it wasn’t going to be that easy. Seems like he wasn’t the only one who had to keep out of sight, for whatever reason. His was to avoid the prying eyes of bounty hunters that wanted him dead or alive, wanted the bounty on his head.

Still, he walked in the other’s general direction, walking almost blindly before he decided to find a place to hide, away from prying eyes. His armor would usually give away who he was, so it was always better to stay in the shadows. Not that it was anything new.

At the least, Locus gave him a card. Maybe it’d tell him where to go to meet up with Locus soon enough.

Wash held the card in his hand, pausing for a moment, before reading it.

Call To Arms (An Unlikely Team) ||CLOSED||

[reliquiiae-blog]

incalllescent:

–  indie agent south dakota from rvb blog

                     selective, oc friendly, crossover friendly, multiship

rules, dossier, mun, verses, navi

[reliquiiae-blog]

( resetprogrampfl. )

Those white eyes only get wider, turning over the response over and over in his head and practically spinning with it- All the while, his AI having gone dead silent in his mind. All this time looking for any trace of what had happened to his team, to find help- And it’s arrived right in front of him. He wants to say it too - ‘I’ve been looking for you, thank god you’re here, can you help me save my own’ - but he bites his tongue.

Oh, yes. Washington - the real, live Agent Washington - has asked him a question.

“You’re-” A sudden tensing, adjusting the sniper rifle slung across his black, white eyes darting back and forth. Maybe he’s being paranoid, all this running having gotten to him so much he sees danger when there isn’t any. But god dammit, if he’s as skittish as a horse, at least he has good reason for it. “I know who you are. …But not here. Walls have ears. And we’re both wanted men.”

And his voice is still the same as ever. Of course it is. He might be Alpha now, not Church, clad in a brilliant white trimmed with icy blue, instead of the mere pale blue. But a voice doesn’t change. Even if it’s harder from being a fighter, a Freelancer, their Hyper-Lethal asset. They didn’t even change his appearance, although once upon a time those eyes had been blue, instead of stained white with memories.

Alpha’s already moving, hopping off his chair. If Wash wants to look like they’re leaving together, fine, but Alpha’s ready to clear out. This was far more important than the original reason he’d come anyway.

His voice was just like how he remembered Church’s voice to be. It was weird. He knew Church was well and truly gone and yet this stranger, who sounded almost the exact same, made him question if he was really gone. It couldn’t have been Church, could it?

He knew who he was. It seems he couldn’t quite cover up the fact that he was Agent Washington. Or maybe, he knew who he was because of his vigilante name.

David shrugged it off.

The ex-freelancer watched as the other shifted out of his chair, leaving Wash to pause and make a swift decision as to whether he was going to follow him out or not. On one side, the white eyed man had said he was also a wanted man, he knew who he was, and it seemed that he wanted Wash to hear him out. On the other side, Washington found it remarkably hard to trust someone so easily, so quickly, since what had happened on Chorus. His word on being a wanted man alongside him made Wash quickly debate if he was speaking truthfully or not.

In the end, Washington decided to believe him. After all, if he was to pull any remarkable stunts to take him down, he would’ve done so without going through the extra hassle to get him away from the crowd and to somewhere where the crowd wouldn’t listen. Wouldn’t acquire information.

      “Alright. Lead the way, and I’ll follow.” He’s glad that he had hidden compartments where he kept some knives, to make him feel more secure, less vulnerable to attack. With the way his heart was still racing, he knew that he was still paranoid about whether or not he was getting himself led into a trap.

It might be wrong to follow a stranger, but something told him he should.

      “Whatever you have to tell me must be important.”

[reliquiiae-blog]

[reliquiiae-blog]

Send “That doesn’t look like a scratch.” for my muse to react to yours finding them bandaging a wound.

[reliquiiae-blog]

In which Tucker tries to have an intervention about Wash’s addiction of adopting cats. 

Wash feels are just too much today