#blissfcl

[mantis-scope-moved]

Disorderly Conduct

@blissfcl

Garrus Vakarian was no longer working for C-Sec, and hadn’t been for years now. He’d figured after a dishonorable and swift exit, they wouldn’t exactly like when he visited.

And yet here he was, temporarily signed on as a “consultant,” which was a glorified way of saying ‘local hero who knows how to handle things better than the average officer.’ It’s about time somebody thought so.

And honestly, Garrus was just finding something to do while he waited for Palaven command to give him something worth more than petty crimes like drunken, disorderly conduct at Afterlife-- which was, coincidentally, exactly what he was called for.

Better than nothing, anyway. 

The thrumming music was pleasantly familiar, for all that it elicited some bittersweet memories.

Though not quite the way he saw fists flying. That was a keener familiarity to the Turian. 

[willreignite]

“That’s my blood. That’s a lot of my blood.”

“Here’s some medigel. Administer it on your wound and you’ll be able to do somersaults tomorrow.” Her tone of voice was typical for small talk.

[salvatiicn-blog]

@blissfcl | cont.

      Hᴇʀ ᴘᴇʀsɪsᴛᴇɴᴄᴇ ɪs astonishing for someone so seemingly soft, fragile. A reminder to not judge by covers alone, that there was more beneath than a simple facade could contain. Of course it is — that is a huge part of the role she plays, after all. A starring role she needs to execute exorbitantly well.

      An act, mayhaps, but not to him. He didn't care much about the Faiths before her; vain little dolls, breaking from the slightest bit of pressure. There was no need to care for them because they wouldn't last long enough for such feelings to be developed, something that had been painfully obvious from the start. They weren't Faith; they were some meager preparation for the sister to come. and didn't he know from the start that she would be the right one? It had been a fight to actually get her into the family; more than she would ever know. He doesn't need a revelation to know how much the Father mistrusts his very judgement, but as time showed, he had been right about the girl with her hands currently in his hands and on his shoulders, forcing him to keep still when his body ached for movement.

      (A reminder of other times. Sit, and behave — but her touch is softer, and the memory is vague at best, just deep enough for it ti enstill a certain type of obedience not within himself and to stay under her hands, enduring her endless little touches.)

            "I'm merely trying to remind you to remain careful."

      Things lately had turned out to be rather stressful, more so than usual. The signs were worsening, the Father said, and oh, didn't they all feel it? Not in the same way as he would, of course, but there is something resonating within the baptist's soul as well, something whispering of the end times. Times to keep an eye out for your family, more so than usual.

      Being around her soothes the worries, even if it cannot wash it away. With certainty, it's the bliss taking effect on him as well — less than to some other unfortunate souls (the wrong approach; how could one overcome their sins and truly atone if they hid them  away from themselves? They could not hide them forever; not from the Lord, but it's an discussion often gone through — violently, sometimes — and never accomplishing anything) — but it's there, and he will have it sitting on his skin and inside his lungs for days again.

      Just like the pollen from the flowers she chose to place onto him will stick to his clothes. A hardship to get them out, but worth her smile — most of the times.

      She rambles, and he listens. It's unlike him to stay silent for so long, but there is no need to interrupt her trail of thought — it comes to it's natural conclusion sooner or later regardless, and then, just then, does he raise his voice, although it's the soft, near lecturing tone he likes to use so much.

            "I am not questioning you or your strength — all I am is expressing my worry for my own sister. Am I not allowed to do that? Is it not my duty to look out for you even if you do not need me?"

      A reminder, it is. They both walk on a thin line of tolerance, but it would be worse for her to fall onto the wrong side of it.

      Worries, cast aside momentarily as she fishes out his phone (he can catch a glimpse of the ignored notifications on it, and being the main connection between their home and the outside, it just sits as another string of stress at his heart) and he rolls his eyes as she opens up the camera, but he will humor her for now. If she takes comfort in things like that — and from experience, she does — she shall have it.

      It is what a brother is supposed to do, after all.

[donewithhope-blog]

I know he can be a bit overbearing at times. He feels things so deeply that he bears them on his very flesh, but you have to understand that he and I- We care about you. We want the best for you now that you're here, and this close to joining our family. Deny him his carnal pleasure if you must, but don't deny yourself this true chance at happiness, Deputy. Join us. I made you a flower crown and everything.

domestic violence. minor shoplifting. people ignoring the speed limit. all things that rook thought she was in for when she signed up to work for the hope county sheriff's office. murderous, ‘religious’ cults with hallucinogenic drugs and forced tattoos of your supposed sins, however, was NOT. 

faith’s voice is almost angelic – or as close to angelic as rook can imagine. her experience with angels being nonexistent pretty much. it’s a strange sensation and rook is almost tempted to ask her if she could just pick up a radio and talk to her normally but feels as though it’d probably be a stretch. 

‘we care about you’ ‘we want the best for you’. it was a load of shit if she ever heard it though wording it like that wouldn’t do her any favours. john brought out the snark she tried to keep down, as if unable to control herself around him. despite exposure to the bliss she was much more clear-headed around faith than him. 

     “Why should I? You’re drugging people and John is taking their skin. If this is happiness then I don’t want it. If you have to force people to join you then it isn’t true happiness.”

[tcnaciious-a-blog]

@blissfcl continued from here (x)

          “You’re speakin’ my language now! I always enjoy taggin’ along with you,” she grinned, swinging her own bat. It wasn’t her preferred weapon but sometimes it was good to go with the classics. Of course, she was also hoping for a bit more gruesome action. Oh well, there was always next time. 

          “You get to see all the action. I’m hopin’ these guys’ll put up a fight. It’s always more fun then. Or maybe hired some goons!” She grinned.

[risenspectre]

😍

Send 😍 if your muse finds mine ATTRACTIVE.         

--// Well, hot diggity gang. Three in row. If she can floor him in one move and step on him, he will give her his own verdict on her. ))

[takuh-vollthepredator]

A ship to home

Takuh was on a ship headed to home world. She never really went on such trips but she was asked to join to bless the hunters and reward them in the name of the God of Hunt. She walked down the ship halls and paused. There sat a female. She has never really seen many females, just the few on occasion. Takuh walked to her, "The God of Hunt is pleased with thee.", she signed her prayer and nodded. Sitting down next to her, she really noticed how she was much shorter she was. Poor Takuh, being small and weak must of been a curse placed on her. "I am Priestess Takuh-Voll. I am pleased to see a strong female huntress.". She nodded and laid her one hand across her lap, but in her left she still clung to the spear she always brought with her. It was her only proof she had ever hunted. A skull of a human dangled from it and mandible horns with feathers of a bad blood she killed as well. "What is your name?"

@blissfcl

[masterhuntrcss-archive]

MUSE AESTHETICS: HORROR EDITION.

BOLD WHATEVER APPLIES & tag people. add stuff & even change the format to your liking! naturally, repost; don’t reblog! TAGGED BY found & stolen TAGGING @finalvlog @safefromsin @blissfcl @donewithhope @gcdsaved @paternosis @you and your mom

CLASSIC.

black and white. powder puffs. red lipstick. winged eyeliner. white kitten heels. black lace lingerie. icy blue eyes. rain.  abandoned cars.  skeletons. acid. poison. voyeurism. switchblades. strangling. overcoats. looking over your shoulder. trans-atlantic accents. private detectives. dinner parties. haunted mansions. cobwebs. perfect blonde curls. kitchen knives. shock.  cellars.  dust. ghosts. dark alleys.  empty streets. horn-rimmed glasses. radiation. zombies.  serial murder. suspicion. paranoia.  the city. witches. the devil. cannibalism. conspiracies. amulets. abject terror. the American South.  the  American  Northeast.  England. analog cameras.

CRYPTID & URBAN LEGEND.

aliens. blinding light.  dark woods. driving at night.  claw marks.  bite marks.  men in black. memory loss. dismembered bodies. sewers. flashlights.  cell  phones.  video cameras. cars with  tinted  windows. unlabeled cassette tapes. bugs. big cities.  urban crimes.  clowns. something rustling outside your window. glowing light. unsolved mysteries. suburbia.  mirrors.  the american pacific northwest.  the american midwest.  hiking. backpacking.

GOTHIC.

gaslights. corsets. ballrooms. candlelight.  mist.  starless nights.  full moons. cobbled streets. horse-drawn carriages.  mysterious strangers.  bogs. moors. forests. mountains. castles. velvet.  silver.  brass. gold. jewels. domino masks. the opera.  dangerous romances.  tragic romances.  violins. roses. lilies.  empty graves. crosses. cemeteries.  snow.  ice.  the gallows.  crows.  milk-white skin.  ambiguous illness.  fangs.  pointed nails.  something howling in the night. capes. gloves. top hats. straight razors.  lightning.  pipe organs. underground caverns. bats. mice. rats. ravens.  wolves.  cats.  pearls. attics. talismans. axes. wood. isolation in a room full of people. vampires.  werewolves. ghosts. coffins. western europe. eastern europe.  bones.  churches. catacombs. mausoleums.books.

PARANORMAL.

malevolent spirits. seances. spells. missing  bodies.  hidden graves. white noise. static.flickering lights. rings of salt. demons. poltergeists. dark histories.  old buildings.  cold air. wells. urban exploration. a dog barking at unseen things. iconoclasm. black ooze. old photographs. dark bodies of water. crucifixes. priests. possession. exorcisms. dolls.

SLASHER.

bloodbaths. massacres.  wanton nudity.  newspapers.  leather jackets. letterman jackets. converse sneakers. obscured faces.  social unrest.   bonfires. lakes. babysitters. high school. lockers. a scream in the night. dead leaves in the fall.  exhibitionism.  jack-o’-lanterns. passing shadows.  outdated television sets. nightmares. psychiatrists. hospitals. unstoppable forces. gunfire. police. landline telephones.improvised weapons. halloween.secrets.  revelations. cut wires. character masks. scrunchies. wild curls. jeering children. parties. fire. swearing. revulsion.  california.  the  american  midwest. ambulances.

THRILLER.

daylight.  fluorescent lighting.  neon lights. morgues. unwavering eye contact.   tension.  lit rooms.  empty rooms.  killer in plain sight.   a dog digging in the newly-planted flower bed.  steely gazes. paperwork. anagrams. codes. convicted killers.  missing persons.  law enforcement. federal agents. small towns.  paranoia. subdued terror.  dimly-lit parking lots.  a noise in the distance

[salvatiicn-blog]

blissfcl replied to your post: "Its a logical question. Would you rather me call...

i’m so upset you tagged me in this

if i suffer so do you

[ahyesreaperscouncilor]

Ooc: hey i dont know if you remember me but i used to rp with you-a g e s ago on pronetosilence/protheanspaceteam.

Well that was ages ago, but yeah I kind of remember.

[tcnaciious-a-blog]

A VERY DESCRIPTIVE PROFILE OF YOUR MUSE.   REPOST, DO NOT REBLOG, with the information of your muse,  including headcanons,  etc.  if you fail to achieve some of the facts, add some others of your own !

NAME.  Faye “Milo” Sheppard NICKNAME(S).  Miles, Red, Babygirl ALIAS(ES).   Flickr AGE.   28 years old SPECIES.    Human...mostly GENDER.    Cis female ORIENTATION.   Pansexual/demiromantic INTERESTS.     The ocean, space, food, creatures, fighting, drinking PROFESSION.    Contract Assassin/Bounty Hunter/Recon/Freelancer (takes about any job she can get) BODY TYPE.  Curvy, soft, with underlying muscle EYES.    Deep blue (left) & green (right) HAIR.    Thick, red, slightly wavy SKIN.    Lightly tanned with freckles mainly across the bridge of her nose but some on her shoulders FACE.   Heart/diamond shaped face, medium delicate nose, full lips, large upturned eyes, long lashes. HEIGHT.    5'3″ (160 cm) COMPANIONS.  Verse dependent. ANTAGONISTS.  Kaine Riggs & Roman Steele COLORS.  Green, Red, Gray, Black FRUITS.   Cherries, clementines DRINKS.   Tea (sweet & unsweet) ALCOHOLIC BEVERAGES?  Whiskey, long island iced tea, rum SMOKES?   Occasionally DRUGS?    Occasionally DRIVERS LICENSE ? Yes

TAGGED BY: the fricken amazing @desxderium TAGGING: @carrionfeigned @violentnonretirement @fcxrcin @tenacioushound @blissfcl @fayith @simple-geometry @spikyhairedsilhouette & anyone else who wants to do this. Tag me though 

[salvatiicn-blog]

"Its a logical question. Would you rather me call you 'Daddy'?"

     Hᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡs sʜᴇ only does this to test him. Just like her mere presence is a test, or rather, a never ending string of such. For his patience, his faith, his control of the situation. He’d say he did pretty well so far — he is trying his best to save her soul from the depths of hell that she lunges herself into, and while it’s hard — like holding someone who’s hanging over a pit and literately tries to not only not help you, but to drag you down into the darkness as well — he’s getting a feeling for how she is working.

     Not necessarily doing anything for the headache that sits right behind his eyes whenever she talks, but they’ll get there. He’ll get her there. A challenge, testing — he won’t shy away. He won’t let the devil win by giving up on her before he hasn’t done everything to have her confess, have her strip the sins from her very body and soul alike, have her reborn.

     Then she says shit like that, and his entire patience is gone, and he wonders if he’ll need an exorcism for this one. (Not a problem, really. He has the means and all the time in the world to get whatever is sitting under her skin out; be it banished, cut, burned or something yet different — they will get the evil out of her, one way or another.)

           " — you’ll have to land here to do so, little bird.“

     And if everything fails, he can still break her fragile little neck, as you would with any other sick animal.