sebastianxashford-blog

[sebastianxashford-blog]

stellabenoitx:

Stella looked a little out of place at the moment for the hub’s usual atmosphere, in the sense that she was a bit overdressed; her favorite heels clacking on the floor as she walked. The keys to her 1971 Datsun 240 Z in hand, twirling idly between fingertips as she waltzed through the corridor. She was itching, getting desperately claustrophobic at that, needing to get out of the hub in order to seek some fresh air and have a little fun. Anything would be better than laying in her living quarters staring at the ceiling while she contemplated loopholes to not being permitted on the working floors off-shift. It’s considerably tragic in her frame of mind to not be surrounded by tools in the hangar until the wee hours, sometimes getting few hours sleep– but it was a perfectly content means of working herself ragged. That was what had made her happy, now, well she was less so. 

“Yo, the party bus is leaving. If anyone wants to go get weird in the capital– the departure time is,” a pause followed as she spoke aloud to basically anyone within earshot. Her gaze briefly shifting to her watch, “Well… now actually.”

No powers unless necessary. Of course. Considering the remote to the TV was out of arm reach had to be considered an emergency, though. Boredom was killing Seb. He usually hung around the Hangar, tried to squeeze himself into every test flight possible or spent some time at the gym. The latter being much more of a motivational issue than anything. In the privacy of his own four walls, a small construct formed out of pure energy reached out to grab the remote, bringing it back to his side as the blonde laid in bed. Too tired to work out, too bored to lay around doing nothing. That seemed to be a running theme within Atlas those days, the tension cuttable as everyone tried to work with the new no-fun rules. Maybe he just needed a walk, to see something else but the facility for once. Sebastian stepped into his pants and grabbed the bare necessities as he flung his door open. Just in time to overhear the engineer's words.

Sebastian allowed the door to shut behind him with a bang, leaning against the protruding doorframe, head cocked. “You had me at leaving. And weird. What’s the plan, grease monkey?”

[sebastianxashford-blog]

malia-ward:

“Trolls? Well, bridges and caves aren’t the same things but I see your logic now. You’re too big to be kept underground. Forests sound about right or a top of a mountain.” She sighed, trying to picture where an actual troll might live. No a giant. Oh her head was all kinds of messed up right now. “What’s an Ent? Is that like a giant ant? I didn’t know you were into all that nerdy stuff. Do you dress up like Gandolf on Halloween too?” Her eyes widened. “Oh, what does he say - you shall not pass! That’s Lord of the Rings right? Say it!” She clasped her hands together, now thoroughly invested in the reenactment that she was expecting now.

Hearing the elevator ding to the floor she’d selected her blue eyes flashed towards the panel and she started punching in random floors to delay the end of their conversation. “Oh my wildest dreams don’t involve seeing the stars but I appreciate the effort there Ashford.” Her lips stretched into a smile at his words and there really was more she wanted to ask but her mind kept bouncing around. “Oh forget abiding by the rules, those are for suckers, you have clearance to the hangar and I’m feeling just bored enough to stir up some trouble.” She wasn’t entirely being serious but if he’d take the bait then she’d roll with it.

“Wait- you can’t just say something like that and pass over it so blase. If your into some kinky shit then no need to be embarrassed. Everyone’s gotta get their kicks somehow.”

“And too pretty, those baby blues wouldn’t be the same in shady underground lightning.” Something was strange about Malia, the fact that she acted almost...like an overly excited toddler over nothing, really. A very confused child. For a moment, Sebastian tried to puzzle the pieces together. Trying to figure out how she got inside the facility on some kind of drugs. Shrooms, maybe. But if those were the case she’d be talking even weirder shit. And Malia, in general, didn’t seem like the type of person to go on those type of trips. “An Ent is a giant, sentient tree technically. Oh come on, this is common sense. Everyone loves Tolkien, you’re just odd for not doing so. I don’t - well, I did once. And I’m not going to say that for the life of me. It’s too late. I should’ve done that before you entered the elevator.” 

Sebastian was about to push himself off the wall and step out as Malia punched the panel, selecting random floors for the elevator to continue its journey. Speaking of children. There he was, remembering why he never would want any. Instead of complaining, the pilot flashed her a wide grin and settled back against the cool metal of the wall behind him again. “Oh, you say that now. But have you ever actually seen them up close? In fact, have you ever gone into anything a bit more...sturdy for higher altitudes than helicarriers and commercial planes?” Sebastian pressed his lips into a thin line, considering her words. He did have clearance for the hangar. He did have access to machines that were far more fun than the good old carriers that were usually used to transport teams on missions. He did fly some mean maneuvers. “I could see what I can do for you to take you on a test flight. But if you throw up, your tongue will clean up every little crevice. I mean it.”   

“Why should I be embarrassed? For not being boring? C’mon.” Sebastian scoffed loudly, chuckling as he reaching for the panel to press the floor that’d lead to the hangar. “Do you want to take a ride or talk about my bedroom habits? I can do both but  neither are fun when you only talk about it.”

[sebastianxashford-blog]

malia-ward:

@sebastianxashford

The med bay was not one that Malia frequented often due to her advanced healing qualities, but she wasn’t fully immune from needing a checkup. Sure she was going to be fine here in a couple of hours but the few broken ribs she’d suffered in training sure hurt like a bitch now. The point wasn’t to get hurt but she liked to test the extent at which she could push her healing. Which is why she’d been given a minor pain reliever that left her in high spirits. Leaving the bay and following the path towards the elevators, she unwrapped the lollipop she’d been given and shoved it into her mouth. That was probably the only good part of being on this floor. If you got the right nurse, they still had candy for those agents who were good. 

Waiting for the lift to come she shoved the wrapper into her pocket and grinned when the doors opened and another agent was inside. “Agent Ashford.” She nodded her head after stepping in and pressing the button to her floor, lighting up the panel. Turing to Sebastian she smirked and leaned up against the back wall, taking the sucker out of her mouth. “Don’t you like live underground in that hangar? What are you doing above ground? Did someone remind you that giants don’t always have to live in their caves? Better yet, when are you going to take me up for a plane ride? Pretty sure you owe me that.”

How much meat was too much meat? Four steaks, probably. He did, also, get two pieces of asparagus, however. That should’ve evened out the balances, calmed his raging, upset stomach. But it didn’t. Even the lady behind the food counter had looked at the tall blonde weirdly as he piled steak after steak up on his plate. There was enough space where food could fit within him. He needed more than normal people, at least that’s what he told himself. In fact, his eating habits had been horrendous even as a kid. Before he made that insane growing spurt, Sebastian had been a short, pudgy kid with a bit of a gut. Not much had changed, aside from the fact that he grew nine inches within one summer and turned from a pudgy kid to a painfully awkward lanky one. That didn’t get fat after looking at a big mac for two seconds. 

Did he regret eating too much in the mess hall? Sure. Would he repeat the same the next day? Absolutely. Leaning against the cold surface of the elevator inside, Sebastian almost lazily dragged his eyes toward the opening doors as Malia stepped inside.  She looked far too happy, considering he was - not really - going to die of overeating. “You’re talking about trolls. Tiny, fat, ugly little beings living under bridges. Giants live...I don’t fucking know, but Tolkiens Ents lived in the forest. Which, Ent literally means giant in old English...” Blonde brows furrowed as he quickly thought about his words himself before shrugging it off. “I have a feeling that you’re just using me to get your ass in one of the nice planes. I’m hurt, Malia. Really, my heart is bleeding for beeing so blatantly used for your own, selfish bargains.” The elder muttered dramatically - thumb briefly brushing over the outside corner of his eye in feigned sadness. “Well, ‘thing is, I’d have taken you on a ride long ago. Showed you the stars, have fun, fulfilled your wildest dreams  - but unfortunately, Atlas has a new ‘no-fun’ rule. Can’t take anyone in there without getting my ass whipped. Which, given time and place, is nothing I’d be against, honestly. But that’s a different story.”

[sebastianxashford-blog]

scarletxbeauty:

She couldn’t say she didn’t like it, after being in this place for a year, she leaned more on the Weapons department. Nothing like firing guns and well, learning how to use one well. It didn’t matter to her if she was just at a Level 1 position, knowing that she wasn’t the only metahuman here, was mind blowing. Frankly she was interested in all departments, hand to hand combat, tactics, the whole nine yards. Plus there were pretty interesting metahumans, along with their powers, and she was curious to say the least. She watched as the others examined the weapons, knives even. “Preference to a knife than a gun?” she asked.

Why, out of everyone, Sebastian had to go and fetch the equipment for one of the jeeps was still beyond him. Maybe they had mistaken him for a horse. Other than that, he usually didn’t have much to do with the SUV’s the transportation department prepared for missions. Yet, still, the pilot was making his way to the weaponry section with a handy letter from one of the higher-ups to get inside. After handing someone his note, Sebastian - impatiently - waiting for them to come back with the equipment, hands buried deep in his pockets to look around in mild boredom. Blonde brows ceased at the young womans question that, what felt like, came out of nowhere. “Neither. I got two fists and, best case scenario, am sitting in a jet that can bomb what’s in my way. Knives and guns...fancy, useless things for those that don’t know how to fight without.”  As always, Sebastian was the kind of person to put his foot in his mouth, say whatever came to his mind first before actually thinking. 

[sebastianxashford-blog]

intangiblecharlie:

Charlie let out a breath, happy be showered and out of her work clothes for the day.  The brunette couldn’t deny how lame these new security clearances were, and as someone who was both only level One and somewhat of a wanderer, she found herself a little more bored than usual.  She bit her lip, venturing from her unit to find something, or hopefully someone, interesting, and she grinned widely when she happened upon someone walking in the opposite direction as her.  She changed courses, running to walk alongside them with a small smile.  “Where are you headed?  Are you looking for someone to join you?”

Night shift. The best - and worst - shifts of all. Sebastian preferred them over the early ones, having to wake up at four in the morning wasn’t really his thing, but he also enjoyed a nice, full night of sleep. A hand was roughly brushed over his nose as Sebastian dragged his body through the corridors to start his nightly shift in the hangar. Nothing too over-the-top. Just a couple of test flights, for when the engineers fixed one of the newer models of jets. The pilot yawned loudly, scratching the back of his head where a messy mob - nothing else could describe the hair situation he had going on - was standing up in all directions.

Blue orbs landed on a familiar face as a female voice spoke up. They worked together  - well, in the same location at least  - and more than often, Sebastian would allow her to look over his bike if anything stopped working. Minor failures, he could fix himself. But when it came to more sensitive matters, he preferred someone who knew what they were doing to look after it. Shrugging a broad set of shoulders, Sebastian motioned toward the thick iron door that lead to the tarmac that lead to the hangar. “Work, if you want to tag along, go ahead. I don’t have much to do, well, not a lot that’s happening tonight aside from some fixing shit on a couple machines.”

[sebastianxashford-blog]

“I almost got kicked out of eighth grade for selling ‘Playboy.‘”

[sebastianxashford-blog]

TASK #2 One. Work outfit, 

Two, three, four. Casual outfits, usually whatever falls into his hands first. Five, six, seven: Accessories favorite shoes

Now Cha-Cha real smooth

[sebastianxashford-blog]

strayxatlas:

@sebastianxashford​

Stray was tall. He was used to towering over just about everyone around him, and even had a small kink in his neck sometimes after a long conversation with those significantly shorter than him. Sebastian, on the other hand, well - as partially annoying as it was to have to look up, it was a nice change of pace. 

He found the man in the hangar, which was the best bet for anyone trying to hunt down the pilot. Idly, in the back of his mind, Stray couldn’t help but wonder how he even managed to fit into those cockpits. Did they make them longer in front or something? Or was he scrunched up the entire time like trying to fit a regular person inside of a miniature clown car like some bizarre circus trick?

Ah, the mysteries of life. 

“Ay there, mate–” He approached, voice too loud, cheerful and booming through the room. Vega, his constant companion, galloped ahead of him on massive paws, hopping up onto his back legs to greet the blonde with a frantically wagging tail and pink tongue rolling sloppily out one side of his muzzle.

Stray caught up to the pair, a lopsided grin very-much-so matching his dog’s expression on his face, “how the fuck are ya, huh? Been a long while, ain’t seen y’ ‘round much since the blackout - got ya’ll locked away down here here or what? “

Which suddenly reminded him, figuring he’d better account for his own reason for being down here, the clearance for the hangar no longer nearly as accessible as it used to be, “got pulled by engineering, carrying some shit down here for y’ all- limited access, y’know? Thought I’d make sure y’ were still alive while I had the chance.”

Sebastian was hunched over a box, searching for the pair of gloves he had...well, misplaced. They couldn’t have gone far in the huge, spacious hangar that held several planes, ground vehicles and other, various types of mobility. Of course not. The tall pilot stood up, straightening his spine to give his surroundings a critical look. He wasn’t the most organized, no. Sure, he could scale a coconut tree faster than most, but having a clean working space was a concept alien to the blonde. That alongside the fact that people actually liked pumpkin spice. 

The sound of large, heavy paws scratching against the concrete floor had Sebastian turning around. Just in time to catch the tank of a dog before it could’ve thrown him to the ground. Ungloved hands quickly wrapped around the massive animal while, simultaneously, trying to lean his head back as far as possible to avoid the wet, dog-glob loaded, tongue. “Stray - man, you’ve never looked better. Did you get a haircut? Your head looks so much more proportional now you handsome man.” Sebastian said obnoxiously loudly, cupping Vegas jaw as his fingers scratched the short fur behind his ears. Barely even acknowledging the man approaching. 

Finally, he gave the dog a gentle push to get back on all fours before he looked up at Stray, a matching grin on his face as he saw his bulky friend. “There you are, new you couldn’t have fixed that fat head of yours over night. You and Vega just have too much in common. Smell kinda questionable weird, you’re both hairy, big heads with small brains — you could be twins.”

 “Well, after the...situation we’ve had shit to go. Couldn’t just waltz upstairs to find your ass. Especially when you found me first. Glad you’re alive, though. What happened to you? I mean, I doubt you flew out of the building bird style. Unless you’re keeping secrets from me. God, I could just perfectly imagine you with a nice set of wings. Beautiful, truly.” 

Dumb & Dumber | Stray & Sebastian

[sebastianxashford-blog]

thaliatlas:

There was a reason things like this weren’t frowned upon. Good reasons, important reasons, reasons Thalia had a major tendency of ignoring. This specific case, just as an example, was frowned upon because it was weird - majorly weird, stalkerishly weird. That all being said, it wasn’t going to stop her because as a rule of thumb, what other people thought generally had no hold on Thalia and therefore, rarely held her back. Today it certainly wasn’t holding her back from spying.

Curiosity killed the cat and all, but these days, around the Hub, it seemed to Thalia that someone had to take one for the team and do some snooping. Tensions were high, after the power outage, after the implants, after a lot of what had been going on recently and, while she had no concrete reason as to why finding something out, anything out, was necessary, she just had a feeling, and as per usual, Thalia’s actions were dictated by feelings.

It was in the middle of trying to find anything tangible to use as a spring board point for this investigation she was trying to forge that her eye caught sight of something, someone. Thalia hadn’t meant to be staring for so long, and honestly hadn’t even realized she was, until that someone made the shift to turn in her direction and she had to make the dodge behind the nearest corner.

Stupid chip. Stupid needles. Stupid people having to break into Atlas and fuck shit up. Sebastian stuffed his belongings into the designated locker, filled with clutter and paperwork he’d been pushing away for days. Being the responsible adult Sebastian naturall was. Almost out of habit by then, the pilot scratched his short nails along the patch of skin, covered by his sweater, that held the chip. Sure, it was easier than a badge. But no one in that goddamn building seemed to know what privacy meant. Rich thoughts coming from someone that didn’t acknowledge anyone elses privacy.  

The locker door was slammed shut, a heavy duffle bag thrown over his shoulder as he spotted a blonde head that quickly disappeared behind the nearest corner. He cleared his throat, adjusted the weight on his feet. “Come the fuck out. Pictures cost $35, a conversation $2 for every minute.” His words were, more or less, of jest. Yet the annoyance was clear, unusually so, in his deep voice. They had just gotten their new policies, what little they were allowed to do. Meaning he wouldn’t even be able to go on any nightly rides. Any- and everything fun was pretty much prohibited by the director.

“You know, creeping around is really giving off a fucking bad vibe.”

[sebastianxashford-blog]

stellabenoitx:

“Yeah, you’ve really got my grand scheme all figured out. Sitting idly on my ass waiting for other agents to do the dirty work, one hundred percent sounds like me. Question, what is an acceptable form of bribery in order to get you to keep that little secret between us?” Eyebrows raised, insinuating a feigned sense of being serious, though she’s not the least bit so. The brunette isn’t necessarily intending to come off as pugnacious as she might be, the idle quips just come rather easily to her in nature and often color her mannerisms.  

“I am aware that braun has its moment to shine. Permission to be a sarcastic wench is still within my grasp though, I think. Pretty sure it’s always an option.” This time, her tone is just a pinch more jovial, content to make a jibe at her own expense.

“Jefferson. You know, like Jefferson Airplane – the band? Pioneered psychedelic rock?” Explaining any aspect of her system of naming seemed like a somewhat pointless endeavor, and thus it was swiftly shrugged off. Stepping back and out of the way as it is suggested she does so. “He is coming along. Though, this whole mess is going to likely serve as a set back. Any damage done to the hub is going to be priority so, i’m not foreseeing it gets polished off as soon as it might have been otherwise.”

Instinctively, as most would, the light emitted from Sebastian caused her to take an extra step back– for precaution sake. Waiting patiently as he’d cut through the heavy metal. “Ah, see, if that was the case we might have actually been bff jills. The dude from Prison Break was an engineer, I could have planned your escape routes.” Carefully stepping through the newly created access point, she half spoke over her shoulder “What exactly is your plan anyways, coming down here?” Stella of course knew why she’d deemed getting into the hangar important, but most others had seemed to run for containment or the med bay. 

“I accept cash, credit and checks. Also materialistic things such as cars, real estate and jewelry.” The elder joyfully shot back at the woman. The tip of his tongue collided with the roof of his mouth, the clicking loud and obnoxious in the quiet hallway. Of course, the situation was glim and they didn’t even know the whole extent of the situation. Aside from knowing that something had gone horribly wrong or someone seriously fucked up doing their job. Which, if Atlas was anything, they were thorough. One persons mistake couldn’t possibly cause a black out the size of what they were facing. 

“You’re always a sarcastic wench?” A feigned confusion was evident on Seb’s face as he turned his head toward Stella. 

Feigned confusion that turned into bewilderness. “Yeah, Jefferson  Airplane. Okay. I’m glad we don’t have any Zeppelins, otherwise you’d call them Leds. How creative.” The words were more of a mutter than anything, hand scratching the rough texture of his chin, stubble brushing against his skin. After Stella took it upon herself to head into the hangar first, Sebastian slowly followed, ducking to fit through the hole to avoid bumping his head. “Damn it. He’s looking good so far, don’t forget to make Jefferson a bit more sturdy than the rest. Save in the tank department and add a bit to the frame. Not that I’m messing with your job.” The last part was accompanied by a mischievous grin on the tall pilots face.

“Maybe someday we’ll get out bff jills time. You know, Atlas doesn’t pay nearly as nicely as you’d think. A heist would probably not be a bad idea, financially speaking. We could be rich, bathing in champagne, surrounding by nice people, your private plane waiting...” The man was mostly rambling, absentmindedly, as his gaze wandered through the familiar hangar hall. One of his favorite places, in all fairness. From motorcycles to passenger planes, Atlas stored every vehicle in the huge space of the storage hall. Usually, filled with engineers, mechanics, pilots and drivers alike. It was the messiest, most organized place of all. Sebastian turned his head back to Stella, shrugging his shoulders. “Why did you come down here? We tend to go where we know we’re the most useful.”

[sebastianxashford-blog]

zoexcastille:

”Yeah it really is a shame, how I would love to be a walking flashlight,” her dry tone revealing her absolutely nonexistent amusement at the thought. “Can’t you construct a giant light bulb or something? That’d be useful, at least.” She hummed then in playful consideration, her mind taking a quick detour from the seriousness of their situation, “although, now that you mention it, x-ray eyes could be useful in a lot of ways. Fun, too. Wouldn’t even need to turn the lights on then.”

Arriving at the weapon’s floor, she went ahead and released him arm all together - it was dark, but she was the certain the man could handle a flat surface on his own without gravity deciding to see how far he was capable of bouncing. Her eyes fell on the opened door at his direction, and her expression wasn’t unlike his either, all concern and cautious suspicion. She glanced up at him, and nodded in agreement, her demeanor immediately falling under the influence of her years of training - words few and carefully selected, quiet. For as much as she normally adored being the center of attention, when it came to business, Zoe was proficient at becoming nothing more than a fleeting little shadow. 

“Wait here,” she whispered, her tone fading from the air as quickly as it was spoken. Taking soft, silent steps forward toward the door, her empathy stretched wide in front of her as she moved, sensitive and detecting. The last thing she wanted was to be surprised if there was something - someone - in there that didn’t want to be found. 

She felt ahead of herself, moving towards the opening, and when her eyes confirmed what her empathy implied, she looked back over her shoulder back towards the pilot, “clear. But it feels like someone was here, not long ago.”

“That’s not how I work. I can make one, sure, but it won’t give off any light. That’s like creating a fake flame thrower.” The elder scoffed as a judging glance was cast her way, an obvious tone of amusement that matched hers at the joke. “Yeah, you could also work at the airport, scanning people for drugs and confiscate them for yourself.” 

 Sebastian watched quietly, slowly following Zoe inside despite her words. The weaponry room was pristine, nothing left lying around which was the way it should be. Atlas was adamant on remaining a sorted, orderly environment, the room they kept their weapons was no exception. Long fingers traced along the edges of one of the drawers, tightly locked and held in place by several, clearance required panels. Big blues shot up as her voice spoke up again and Sebastian found himself staring at her for a quiet moment. “Could’ve been another Agent, I doubt we were the first ones to think of flashlights. Maybe they just left without closing the door when the lights turned out-” As he approached the young woman, his eyes fell on an open case. For the life of his, he couldn’t remember what had been kept inside. The pilot took a quick step aside, reaching for one of the flashlights close by and clicked the device on. The concentration of light was directed at the open drawer, clearance panels hanging off the sides, displays black and cracked. 

“Zoe? I think you’re right. Someone was in here. Someone didn’t leave alone.” His eyes met hers again, concern mirror hers.

[sebastianxashford-blog]

zoexcastille:

A audible sigh with an an eye-roll that was, sadly, lost to the darkness. “Yes we’re going for the generators - where else would we go? And I don’t plan on hot wiring anything, nor do I intend to barbecue us. We’re going to find out what happened, what caused this - Atlas pays people to take care of the generators, that’s not our job.” She knew that getting the generators going was far outside of her set of abilities anyway, and she didn’t suppose his expertise translated to them, either.  If there was an easy solution, a straightforward ‘start’ button, perhaps, then of course she’d do what she could to get the power back on, but her objective was more centered around why this happened in the first place, who - or what - was responsible. Atlas paid good money for people to handle the electrical workings of the facility, and they paid her to sneak around, find things, and gather information. And she was damn good at it. 

Zoe trusted her feet - once she fell into a rhythm it would be easy to pick up their pace and sprint down the rest of the flights of stairs, but she felt caution floating around Sebastian, and so compromised - speeding up just a bit, but not enough to risk a misstep. They were coming to the 5th floor when he mentioned the detour, stopping for flashlights - she wasn’t thrilled with the idea, but it did make some sense. She figured that there’d be flashlights somewhere down in maintenance, but she was unfamiliar with the layout down there, so it would be a waste of time searching for them when the armory was right here.

“Yeah, fine - okay. Although, our way is more fun, don’t you think? And I think Atlas owes us a little leeway to enjoy ourselves with all this going down.” She argued childishly, coming to a stop and moving right for the door instead with the large “5″ above it. Pulling it open, eyes darted down the darkened hallway, dim emergency lights the only thing lending reference to the layout. “You know where they’d be? I usually just stop at small arms on my way out, I haven’t done very much exploring through here.”

“Then let’s get going. You know, right now, right here, I’m almost annoyed at the fact I didn’t turn into the human torch or you got the power of ...being a walking and talking flashlight. Or x-ray eyes.” With a loud sigh, Sebastian patted the hand resting on the inside of his arm. Their plan was technically not having one and going with whatever they found at the generator they were heading to. After the weaponry room, that is. His steps were careful as they walked down, mostly because he knew if he tripped he’d pull her to her demise as well. She was a small, petite woman and doubtfully would be able to stay on her feet, let alone catch him, if he succumbed to gravity. 

Once they reached their destination - somewhat - Sebastian loosened her grip on his arm to take a step inside, looking around the dim lights of their surroundings. He’d been in the weaponry room before, a couple of times to make sure the helicarriers were properly equipped. Nothing major, though. Usually, his expertise laid within the fighter pilots rather than merely transporting a team from one destination to another. Sebastian turned around to locate Zoe in the dark, gesturing her to walk closer toward one of the heavy iron doors that, usually tightly shut, was slightly ajar. Which, certainly, wasn’t supposed to be that way. The elder waited for Zoe to catch up, blonde brows furrowed. “Unless we’re all forgetting protocol, which I usually don’t mind don’t get me wrong, but the weaponry room is not supposed to be accessible and open for everyone.” He muttered under his breath, shooting a confused glance at the blonde.”

[sebastianxashford-blog]

recklessendangerisms:

Reid threw himself down into an opposing chair and propped up his legs. He stared out the window, chewing at the corner of his lip in thought. “I don’t know… Maybe. I’ve never really tried anything like that. Shock might kill me,” he contemplated, jabbing a finger at the air between them as if pointing out the idea quite literally. “I imagine potatoes don’t talk for a reason. Getting smashed would hurt like a bitch. There’d be so much screaming…. Yeah… I’d probably die of shock. Getting my arms cut off though? They wouldn’t grow back.” He laughed, imagining the next scenario. “You’d have to go find them for me and hold them to my torso till the skin knitted itself back together.”

The young trainee was enjoying himself up here, high in the sky with Sebastian. The older man was quite the individual. While most of the other agents stuck strictly to the book, Sebastian seemed to handle things more like Reid did. It was a refreshing relaxer to ignore the rules for once.

He turned his head to look toward his pilot with a wide and mischievous grin. “You probably shouldn’t crash the plane though. I might survive–I mean–but you, you’d be mashed potatoes. And I can’t have that. You’re my ride home.”

Sebastian nodded, hand on his chin as if he was seriously considering the various scenarios. Sure, Reid would still feel the pain but unlike others, he’d know that the arm he had just lost would attach itself. If, as the younger had said, someone were to hold it to the open wound. For some reason, the pilot found the others powers incredibly fascinating. He’d seen and been around a few agents with healing powers in his years with Atlas, but manipulations and telekinetic powers here or there, the fact that some people had the power to regenerate themselves just seemed amazingly useful. And fun. “Good point. But if you’re nothing but mashed potatoes, but you’re also in one place only...like a meat puddle, technically, you should be able to piece yourself back together right? Just technically speaking. If you don’t die from shock.”

The elder crossed his arms behind his head, sank lower into the chair and crossed the ankles of his stretched out limbs. Rules had always been more of an...optional way of life for Sebastian. Whether it was in the army, where his fathers name had been able to keep him in a good position with the higher ups or in Atlas, where, whether or not they followed the rules, the coorporation would keep an eye on them anyway. Thus far, his rule breakings had never extended their boundaries, as the furthest he’d go was to take someone for a flight. Atlas had their eyes on them anyway and as long as they didn’t use their powers without orders, they wouldn’t risk being annihilated.

Sebastian mirrored the trainees mischievious grin, shifting his position to rest his elbows on his knees. “I wouldn’t say that too soon. I don’t necessarily need a plane to fly. But if It crashes before I could get out, I guess that’d be kinda shitty. Don’t worry, I’ll get you home in enough pieces to regenerate your ass.” 

Reid & Seb ||

[sebastianxashford-blog]

stellabenoitx:

Hazel eyes narrowed, scrutinizing a particular sketch that gave her hope she could manually trigger the door alignment but it came with the prerequisite of having to cut into the initial panel of the wall in order to even have access to the door’s sidebar mechanism. It’s do-able, but then again she could teleport into the hanger itself and aim to drive something through the door. Plenty of the vehicular transportation within included weaponry, and shooting at the door seemed like an option of sorts, but alas she risked injury to anyone in passing by such a measure. 

Part of her hesitance in immediately acting as she mulled these things over was that her brain had a tendency to offer multiple plausible solutions to certain scenarios, like having several pieces of a puzzle laid before her on a table but each one would fit in place. It was merely a matter of deciding which was the most reasonable of the lot. 

Stella was somewhat abruptly pulled from her train of thought by the all too familiar voice. Sighing, the brunette had inwardly cursed the chances of it being Sebastian that’d come across her. “Great, Crash Bandicoot has arrived. Oh happy day.” The sardonic tinge to her tone is noticeable, and almost always present in her encounters with him. 

However, she can’t really deny that it’s probably the more efficient option out of what she’d been considering thus far. Begrudgingly Stella moved to push herself up off the ground, shuffling papers back into the folder at hand as her gaze shifted towards him. The flashlight falling idle at her side, casting some shadows as the light carelessly illuminated the ground. “Alright champ, let’s see what you’ve got. Maybe you’ll earn yourself a gold star sticker.” 

“You know, sometimes, force does get you somewhere rather than brains. What were you even trying to do? Sit here and speculate, waiting for Atlas to turn the power back on?” Hands resting on his hips, Sebastian watched as Stella pushed herself off the ground after piecing together the individual papers she had gathered around herself. Despite his usually snarkiness and remarks, Sebastian held quite a lot of respect for the mechanic. She was passionate about her work, did what she loved and that was something he could appreciate. Not that he’d actually tell her that.

“Don’t even try to sound sarcastic, I’m saving you a shitton of time.” Clearing his throat, the elder gestured for Stella to take a step back as he, obnoxiously loud, started to rub his hands together. “By the way, the new machine you guys are working on...what did you call it again? Jeff? Is that coming any time soon or still in work?” Sebastian asked as two large hands were placed on the cool metal of the hangar doors. Their approach was different, obvious one of the reasons they usually stood in mids of pilots and engineers alike, fighting for the life of it to be in the right. 

With the electricity of the facility down, Sebastian had to find himself a different source of energy. He took a deep breath, didn’t want to use too much or too little. They didn’t know who or what was behind the heavy, closed doors and the last thing they needed were injured or dead agents. The hallway was suddenly illuminated by bright lights, cast by the mans hands as he took a step back, brows creased in concentration. Which was probably a first sight for Stella, to see him trying to pull himself together for once. Keeping the beams of pure energy minimal, they acted more like a concentrated laser than anything. Cutting away the thick metal bit by bit, melted it where the energy hit solid material. Once done, edges of the metal gleaming red, the cut out piece fell backward into the hangar, leaving a door-like shaped hole in its place. 

“I should’ve chosen a different route. Jewelry heists or something like that. Now, after you?” 

[sebastianxashford-blog]

“You can’t foresee all the consequences of your actions — But that’s no excuse to do nothing. “

BASIC

NAME: Sebastian Jordan Ashford NICKNAMES: Bastian AGE: 30 BIRTHDAY: August 8, 1986 SPECIES: Metahuman GENDER: Male PRONOUNS: He/him

FAMILY

MOTHER: Maria Ashford { deceased } FATHER: Martin Ashford { deceased } SIBLINGS: Noah Ashford {Older}                   Christopher Ashford {Older}

PHYSICAL ATTRIBUTES

FACE CLAIM: Armand Hammer RACE/ETHNICITY: Caucasian NATIONALITY: British/American  HEIGHT: 6′5″; 196cm WEIGHT: 220lbs; 92kg BUILD: tall, athletic HAIR: Messy  HAIR COLOR: Blonde EYE COLOR: Blue  SKIN COLOR: Pale  DOMINANT HAND: Right ANOMALIES: Have you seen this horses legs  SCENT: Masculine ACCENT:  (x) PHYSICAL DISABILITIES: None LEARNING DISABILITIES: None ALLERGIES: nuts DISORDERS: nothing official NERVOUS TICS: finger tapping QUIRKS: interrupts, can be incredibly obnoxious, misplaced any and everything

LIFESTYLE

RESIDES: The Hub, Room #666 - Washington, D.C. BORN: Miami, Florida RAISED: George town, Cayman islands VEHICLE: Metisse Hammer MK3 PHONE: iPhone 6 LAPTOP/COMPUTER: Self built gaming PC PETS: None

EDUCATION: High School degree CAREER: Transportation/Fighter Pilot  EXPERIENCE: 11 years EMPLOYER: Atlas - Project Gaia TRAINED IN: Hand-to-Hand combat, survival, pilot training for jets, helicopters as well as helicarriers, Avian combat

POLITICAL AFFILIATION: - RELIGION: Atheist MISDEMEANORS & FELONIES: None TICKETS AND/OR VIOLATIONS: Speeding, insulting an officer DRUGS: none SMOKES: yes ALCOHOL: Yes please DIET: Meaty and fatty. Sometimes a piece of salad

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Heterosexual MARTIAL STATUS: Unmarried CHILDREN: None AVAILABILITY: Available LOOKING FOR: Nothing

LANGUAGES: English, Carribean english

PHOBIAS:  Autophobia- Fear of being alone or of oneself. HOBBIES: Flying, hiking, boxing, camping - he’s an outdoorsy type TRAITS: Spontaneous, extroverted, confident, reckless, blunt, has a frontal lobe issue SOCIAL MEDIA: None

FAVOURITE

LOCATION: The hangar, gym and usually bars GAME: “Ladies and gentleman, this is the pilot speaking. I was just dared 20 bucks to fly a loop with this baby. Hold tight.” MUSIC: Rock, metal SHOWS & MOVIES: Horror movies, mostly FOOD: Junk food. BEVERAGE: Beer COLOR: Blue and greens

CHARACTER

MORAL ALIGNMENT: Chaotic good MBTI: ENTP ENNEAGRAM: 8w7 ENNEAGRAM ROLE: The Challenger TEMPERAMENT: Choleric WESTERN ZODIAC: Leo CHINESE ZODIAC: Tiger Valor without caution leads to recklessness. PRIMAL SIGN: Wolverine Strong, proud, and emotional, those born under the sign of the Wolverine are born leaders who can rise to a challenge with the best of them. Like their animal namesake, Wolverines never back down, even to much bigger opponents. Their powerful presence and confidence in battle intimidate even the most resolved competitors, allowing them to achieve unlikely victories in territories that most others would fear to tread. With such a strong personality, one might expect members of this sign to be serious all of the time, but in reality nothing could be further from the truth. Though less pronounced, Wolverines show their playful side often. In fact, if given the opportunity, they would prefer every day to be a lazy day filled with good food and rousing entertainment, but they also know that if they want to achieve their goals they must get up and fight for what they want. HOGWARTS HOUSE: Gryffindor ILVERYMORNY HOUSE: Thunderbird TAROT CARD: The Sun SONG: Danger Zone - Kenny Loggins [x]

[sebastianxashford-blog]

Reid & Seb ||

@recklessendangerisms

Technically, this wasn’t allowed. By this, the tall pilot meant hopping into Atlas property and taking Reid for a short trip over Washington. They had no clearance to be taking off, nor were they allowed to simply fly one of the planes. Yet, there they were, above the clouds, watching the stars from up close. It wasn’t one of the jets, they were fun, but also quite uncomfortable. Too loud and suspicious to be flying over cities, quite frankly speaking.  A couple of buttons were pressed on the Helicarrier, autopilot set in place as Sebastian pulled himself out of the chair. He stretched, groaned loudly as he walked through the empty space of the plane. Would they get shit for their nightly trip? Yes, yes of course. Did it really matter? Not for a Nihilistic asshole like Sebastian. They’d drag his ass mostly, since he was the one flying the plane and of a higher level than Reid, but Sebastian was too cocky to believe they’d actually kick him out of the project. They also lacked pilots that were willing to get themselves into compromising situations. That flew carelessly, unafraid. A curse and a blessing at once. 

“You know, if we crash, since I dont trust that autopilot at all, would you be able to regenerate yourself when you’re...you know...mashed potatoes? Figuratively speaking, I mean.” Sebastian asked as he plopped down onto one of the empty chairs, long legs lazily stretched out, head cocked aside. “Or if your arms are cut off by one of the blades...would it grow back? Just interested. I’d never intentionally crash a plane....unless you want me to.” The elder muttered with a shrug, blue eyes darting toward the monitors he had just left behind before dragging them back to Reid. 

[sebastianxashford-blog]

agent-summers:

“Ropes just make sense” She spoke slowly, her head nodding exaggeratedly with the pace of her notice as she tried to process what he was telling her. Cassandra knew he could be an open book more or less, shameless, but there was only so much information she really wanted to know about someone and unfortunately this was an image that would be locked into her mind for a long, long time. Her nose scrunched up slightly at the thought, her eyes linger on him for a moment as her head reeled back a little “Sometimes- sometimes filters are a good thing, Ashford. Seriously” That was rich coming from the girl who tended to speaker her mind about anything and everything. But she wasn’t about to blast her weird kinks out for the world to know about. Not that she had any.

Her eyes darted down to her attire. Not the most practical given the situation they were in but she was a woman who reacted and then thought later. She was about to go to bed when the Hub went dark so it should have been expected that she’d be in something a little more comfortable than tactical gear “I don’t even have a resting bitch face and you’d be in your jammy-jams if you were scheduled for a briefing at 0500 as well so shut it” She snapped, not wanting to hear any more on the subject of her choice in clothing. Cass just wanted to know what was happening and how they were planning on fixing it. The longer the power was out the more chances of something terrible happening there were “It’s not always that easy. They think they’re monsters- they’re volatile. No, not all of them want to learn anything yet but they’re going through shit. They’re in units because they aren’t able to control their powers, Bastian” She, for whatever reason, had a faith in everyone that was unbreakable. She believed in people- humans and metahumans alike

The smirk displayed on Sebastians face as he brushed past her with the light couldn’t be described as anything but one of those shit face grins. Privacy, whether it was his or anothers, wasn’t something he concerned himself with usually.Especially if it made someone uncomfortable. “You were asking for it, let’s be honest.” The tall pilot muttered with a shrug of his shoulders, a hand loosely resting in the pocket of his pants. She’d known him for a while, how shameless Sebastian could be. She was the goddamn same, after all.

“No, I wouldn’t. Because I don’t wear pajamas. I’m an adult, thank you. I would’ve run around naked, probably. Which doesn’t make your situation better.” Despite the grim situation, the grin on Sebastians face didn’t falter even once. He was a die hard optimist when it came to these type of things. Much to Atlas’ distaste, considering he flew the way he lived  - always thinking it’d turn out fine now matter how little thought he gave the situation at hand. Leaving the man in plane wrecks more often than they’d like to. The flashlight was aimed at the blacked out panel keeping the doors securely closed in front of them, a loud sigh leaving his lips. He placed the light between his teeth, crouched down to get a better look of the device. Bastian shook his head lightly, leaving the panel be as he turned around to Cassandra. He applauded her point of view, that she could be so positive about these people behind the locked doors. But he didn’t share her opinion. “I’m not saying they don’t deserve a second chance. But there are people working their asses off, day by day, their whole life devoted to people that might not even want that chance. They’re dangerous and most don’t want to get help. They want to do whatever the fuck they want because they feel like they deserve it. You can’t save everyone, Cassie.”