#primitiveside

[exastrisnonnocere]

||| @primitiveside

The Ravenger is a hulk of a ship, bulbous and heavy-boweled like a bloated carcass drifting on the tides of stars in the emptiest reaches of space. She is a gleaming amalgamation of stolen parts and scavenged hull, scraped together over the long, storied lifetime of her captain, J'aku Niir. He is old for a merchant captain, bulky and lumbering like the ship itself, his dark hair touched by streaks of gray and his viridian skin set with the deep crags of age. Age doesn't mean much to him, though, not when it comes to a payday. Silas knows that from experience.

He knows it very well.

The details are fuzzy on their most recent pickup -- a single individual on bounty that cost the crew more than their fair share of bodies in the process. J'aku had been annoyed after, had bent his ear about the fucking dog, the fucking stray he had invited onto his beloved ship, and how had he repaid this hospitality? Like all dogs, of course. Uncivilized, untrained, leaving a trail of its mess up and down his hallowed halls. Silas had listened with little affect, well accustomed to the old Orion's temper after several months under his heel. He had not asked questions. He had not complained when J'aku took out those frustrations on him.

But he had been curious.

Very rarely would an Orion slaver like J'aku go out of his way for a bounty; they are not mercenaries themselves and pirates have little interest in law and order, so the only value in such an endeavor is playing middleman to another merc for a percentage of the take. If the percentage is worth a few dead crewmen, then the bounty itself has to be impressive. Thus, as he is escorted down into the cargo hold by a pair of J'aku's grunts, Silas is curious.

The cells are small and close together, a winding collection of heavy doors along a narrow corridor that spirals into the deepest, darkest parts of the ship. Framed by some of the barred windows are the wan, dejected faces of their contents, the various alien cargo of J'aku's humanoid trafficking enterprise. Some of them reach out for him, some scream and cry, adding to the desperate wailing that rises up out of the Ravenger's deep, hellish gullet. Others are silent. The silent ones know better.

They come to a stop. One of the grunts unlocks the cell, while the other hands Silas a battered black medical bag and jerks sharply at the leather leash snapped to his neck.

"No funny business, Fleetbag," he growls, "clean 'em up. Get out."

The leash comes off, leaving Silas in the steel collar and his usual tattered blacks as he steps into the cell, a shiver of distaste creeping up his spine at the familiar, claustrophobic surroundings. They close and lock the door behind him.

Better another dead dog than one of them.

[x-theevilinside-x]

@primitiveside asked:

❛ it hurts that you still can’t trust me after all this time. ❜ but for the true deadpan comedic value, they literally just met, for tiffany or sidney

Sidney had embraced seclusion as her new reality. She often questioned her own humanity, feeling detached from the world. Loneliness, a hideous companion, plagued her existence. Despite despising it, she recognized that seclusion was the sole path to reclaiming her life. The loss of loved ones and the trauma endured had led her to this decision. She vowed to never again be a pawn in someone's deranged schemes and illusions. For now, her focus was solely on fighting, training, and self-defense.

Her body harbored various weapons these days. A gun kept at her side, a small pocket knife that fits securely inside her boot, and another knife strapped to her leg under her jeans. One could never to be too careful. She had learned the hard way that danger could lurk around any corner. The gun provided her with a sense of security, a constant reminder that she was prepared to defend herself if necessary. The pocket knife, hidden in her boot, was her trusted companion, always within reach for any unexpected situation. And the knife strapped to her leg, concealed beneath her jeans, was her last line of defense, a secret weapon that gave her an extra layer of protection.  

There was no one supposed to be present, so when she caught wind of the resonant voice from behind, she was on the verge of leaping out of her own body. Sidney swiftly pivoted and created some space between herself and the unfamiliar individual. " Wow, what beanstalk did you fall from? " Her first initial reaction. With a shake of her head, she corrected. " Sorry, but do I know you? " Sidney wasn't foolish enough to allow this stranger to close. Maybe it was paranoia or maybe the icy cold look in his eyes. 

[giraffeiisms]

[ x ] @primitiveside

There was as sharp hiss as the shrapnel was pulled from her arm. Looking away so she didn't see the metal. She had stumbled into one of those damned hidden traps, and barely missed having her neck shredded.

"Oh please. You like me too much to let me bleed out."

Ellie scoffs, flexing her arm and moving each finger tenderly. There was some pain, but it wasn't about to stop her from comfortably using her gun. She had worse.

"Yeah I'm good, I can't believe I didn't see the damn trip wire."

[tagaloak]

the star-ship falls from the sky like a blazing serpent, red plasma-fire streaking across eywa'eveng's glittering night. lo'ak is the only na'vi awake to witness it, as it happens; far beyond the reefs, at the darkest edge of the east sea. the timing of his hunts have started to bleed into the late, solitary hours, venturing farther and farther from awa'atlu's bright shores.

bigger fish. better friends.

he wills his ilu to dash forward, its sleek body slicing through the tides, black waves that push them back as if to say, stop, go no further.

lo'ak does not listen.

the wreckage, assailed by the surf, burns over an islet that juts out of the sea like a throne of blades. payakan follows them, lurking protectively under the waters.

cautiously, spear gripped tightly between his fingers and raised above his shoulder, lo'ak climbs over the ship's hull. he only senses one survivor. a human. man-shaped. soaked and exhausted, as he crawls out of the ruined cockpit and lies on his back.

lo'ak feels a rush of hate. feels it like a parasite, needling into the back of his head. he grits his teeth. he raises his spear-clenched hand.

suddenly, a jet of water hits his cheek. payakan protests, warbling insistently.

"tcheh!" lo'ak hisses, snarling.

he redirects the trajectory of his spear, watching as it willfully hits an eel that was crawling into the ship through the broken glass. lo'ak kneels over its body, quickly thanks its flesh, and rips its head open. he drinks its blood, bites into the meat, to stay warm, to stay with the sea.

"eat," he says, harsh, but oddly paternal, as he offers it to the man, who watches with pearlescent eyes. lo'ak acts unfazed. "eat, or die."

33﹕   @primitiveside  hovers  over  receiver’s  shoulder  as  they complete  a  task .

[janitorialevil]

Metal hinges slowly open behind him. A slot labeled "FOOD" hangs open, attached to an unlit glass containment chamber in the room with him. Whatever is inside the pitch black box has a human voice, deep and at ease. "C'mere."

The high pitch scream that comes out of him is less fitting of a 6'4" man, and would have been more appropriate on a silver screen final girl. Despite that and the hand over his heart, he's still alive, yeah he checks he's alive. "Dude what the fuck man!" He sounds almost exasperated because he believes that this is just a prank by his coworkers. He squats down and prods at the little slot with the handle of his broom.

"Where did you even find this thing!"

[anarkissm]

the butcher bay correctional facility is an animal, in itself. sitting, sentinel, over toxic mines and unmarked graves; an unruly hive of killers, an invasive species, but ultimately lacking the lethal organization of a super-organism. to scar, they are big game. in cages, like cattle; confined and complacent and chewing their standard-issued rations. the hunter is here, now, to appraise the meat. crouches, perfectly balanced over a steel beam supporting the dark, high ceilings of its cavernous mines. concealed by the shadows and the electromagnetic stealth-actuator camouflaging his body, as he observes @primitiveside navigate the catacombs.

the tunnels lead into darker tunnels, and the darker tunnels lead into pitch-blackness. the human called riddick stops moving, suddenly. turns his silver eyes up. at the shadows. at scar. the hunter tilts his chin, intrigued. riddick's gaze seems to follow the motion, head slanting, mocking scar's curious gesture.

energy singes the air, as scar deactivates his armor's cloaking system. long, serrated blades shine from his wrist-gauntlet.

[oculusxcaro]

@primitiveside; riddick ordering an ultra rare steak:

It almost breaks her heart, looking down at the juicy slab of meat glistening on the plate and knowing it's not for her. Such a beautiful piece of meat was not so much seared as walked briskly through a warm room, the outside just sizzled enough to give off a tantalizing aroma to anybody with a working nose nearby. Of course, that included the waitress now walking back to the darkened booth situated at the back of the diner, bringing the wonderful treat to the strapping man who had yet to take off his sunglasses for whatever reason. One step, then two. Oh, how that steak taunted her, just the barest hint of steam still broiling off the seasoned surface. Outside, the meat looked like a regular steak but the inside would be blue as a summer sky. Her fingers tightened, Khare's eyes fixated more on the plate than where she was going because... well, if left to her own devices, she'd probably turn the other way to enjoy it herself, but the customer came first and after all, it was his order. "Your steak, sir. Please enjoy and let me know if you need anything else," Khare said with her trademark smile, setting down the plate in front of the man along with a glass of water. It hurt to put it down, really it did but there was still so much more to do tonight and besides, she'd really rather not get on the bad side of Mr. Sunglasses here. Even just sitting there made him look even more daunting up close, his eyes concealed behind unfathomable darkness. Whatever he was thinking was just as well-hidden behind a stoic expression but whatever Khare's thoughts on the matter were, a ding at the door brought her attention to the next customer, calling her away from the mysterious man.

[alphateamsfinest]

"Let's ditch. I know a spot."

"Took you long enough." The metal nail file was tucked back into her boot as she pushed herself up and out of the window she had been lounging in. It's not like anyone was really paying attention anyway, they still had time before they were supposed to be in the next location, and even more time before someone would really notice them missing.

The unwatched back entrance is opened without fuss, with no scratch on the outside to even indicate that it had been picked. "How far is this place? Should I have grabbed an overnight bag?"

[soulmissed]

@primitiveside: ‘ you don’t understand it now, but i think you will in time. ’

memes, accepting

the boy tilts his head, mimes the herculean man’s stance. a stance imitated unconsciously. mayhaps it is his body’s way of relaying fearlessness. undernourished and bruised and living fighting enduring.

a hand hovers, mouse-like, before his pants pocket. (the knife. dependable. swift.) is august faithful david? is riddick the behemoth goliath?

his hand recoils and gangling arm droops to his side.

“ there’s a lot i doubt i’ll ever understand. ”

[umbrellamedic]

"I'm just wondering what it was that took the life out of your face."

"Nothing!"

Bertha grabs her mask and slides out back into place. She's more pale than usual, sweating and unable to blush. How long since they last took on an Umbrella facility that has what she needs? Too long. If this one doesn't have an adequate formula of antivirals-

She refuses to think about it. Breathing behind her mask feels stuffy in a way it never has before. She can't take it off again, not until she can dose herself with medication. She continues searching through the lab they've cleared, hoping no stray bullets find their way through what she needs.

"Just antsy. We're too much time between missions; slowing down." Any excuse is as good as another. She can't think of anything better. "Don't concern yourself with it."

Her head hurts and her teeth ache. She isn't sure if her tongue is starting to swell or if it's all in her head. Everything is itchy.

[manufactoredxbyxdesign]

👀 + what'll kill you?

“At this point? Nothing.

The only thing that could stop the cycle would be the death of The Entity herself.

All the poison, fire, and knives in the world could not stop me if she remains alive. Where there is death in The Fog there is inevitable resurrection.”

[doctorbrown]

011, the last train compartment that's not full.

On the midnight train going anywhere, Emmett notes with quiet amusement, the words in his head adopting Marty’s voice, grin and all. The train has that quiet atmosphere of late-night, exhaustion claiming most of the passengers, the rhythmic chugging of the wheels beneath creating a steady enough vibration to lull most into a pleasant sleep and making it easier to breathe without the constant chatter filling the cabin and the occasional wandering eye of other travellers.

Cabin 30 is mostly empty, save for the few lone souls who, like him, sought peace and quiet on this lengthy journey. When the door slid shut, he caught a glimpse of the woman near the door, her dark hair peppered with long grey strands with a worn-out blanket draped around her shoulders smiling to herself, thoughtfully taking pen to paper.

There is an intense looking man towards the back and Emmett feels the need to stuff his hands in his pockets to keep himself from drawing any unwanted attention, unable to shake the feeling that to do so could be bad news.

Quietly, he stashes his small suitcase in the overhead carrying net and settles on a seat halfway through Cabin 30, equidistant from the other two passengers and more than enough to award him some privacy when he pulls out his notebook from his coat pocket and plucks the pen from behind his ear.

There are papers strewn across the man’s lap, interesting enough to hold his interest for what seems like five minutes at a time before he looks out the window into the black expanse, the only signs of civilisation the haze of light pollution in the distance, speeding by.

Curious, and after a few moments of contemplation, Emmett can’t keep himself from peering over to steal a glance or two at the man’s project.

“Work trip?” he asks somewhat awkwardly as their eyes meet, his voice a thunderclap in the quiet. “Where are you headed?”

Not five minutes later, two men in dark clothing sweep into the cabin, bringing a chill with them that pierces through his overcoat.

[akuzeisms]

  PLOTTED STARTER !     ⤷ @primitiveside

Jack was the one that Cerberus had paid for, but even going into the prison ship Purgatory, Katrina had other plans. She’d done a little of her own research, once they’d stopped at the Citadel to pick up a few supplies; with her Spectre status reinstated, she’d managed to find a little information on someone she’d only heard rumours about years ago. Of course, the average person could only find those rumours; with a little bit of digging, Kat was able to find a lot more.

Richard Riddick. An ex-con who’d gone missing years ago, the kind of story that smelled like Cerberus involvement. It wasn’t confirmed, of course, but with the way the details lined up, Katrina wouldn’t have been surprised if that was the case. Cerberus was well-known for having their fingers in far too many pies, usually ones that were questionable at best. If he was liable to be an asset against Cerberus should they turn on her, then she would need it.

Of course, Warden Kuril had decided that being a piece of shit was a better choice, despite the very life-threatening he’d made to piss off the Savior of the Citadel. Under fire, she’d managed to let EDI hack into a few of their systems from a nearby terminal, bringing up the prison block that her target was stored in; Jack had torn a path of destruction through half of the prison ship, and the place was little more than a riot. Jack had agreed to go back to the ship with Ashley, and with Garrus in tow, Kat was ready to get what she had come for.

Down a few destroyed hallways, she came across the cell; it’d yet to be released, which meant that with the ship going down, the poor guy stuck in there was liable to go down with it if he wasn’t freed. However, she had to be sure that he was ready to get out alive, or if he damn wall wanted to die here without a chance to do something.

“You Riddick?” She asked bluntly, standing in front of the closed door. “If so, and you want out of here alive, I’ve got an opportunity you might find a little more enticing than getting spaced when the rest of this ship goes up in flames.”

[ekbatdesebat]

‘ that’s quite a scratch you’ve got there.’ 

「   RP MEME :  RANDOM DIALOGUE 2.0   」  | accepting  

Leeloo lifted her head before looking back down at her forearm. She hadn't really registered or understood what he said but inspected the wound she's sustained during the fight only to shrug. It would heal.

"Mo kiba chtaman," Leeloo said looking the man over. "Deno o ou'man, ena? Fänkot adjïset sedan man soun souk? O deno maata'patou?"

[exastrisnonnocere]

'there's something inherently violent even about dice rolls.'

"Sounds like you're a sore loser."

The doctor is seated on a stool at one side of Riddick's cell, while Riddick is chained by his ankle to the floor. Being the boss's pet does come with certain privileges, able to come and go for the most part without too much difficulty, though not without an entourage. Lingering outside the cell are two Orions, one holding Silas's leash and the other in possession of Riddick's key. They have closed the door behind him, though. Silas is on his own.

It is something of a test; an experiment on his part to see just how far that leash stretches. It had taken a little convincing -- a whispered pleading in his master's ear, a few reassuring promises. Yes, of course it would be alright. Yes, he would entertain the malicious killer into submission, keep him docile for the ride. Of course he could be trusted. Hadn't he been a good boy so far?

So here he is, seated just far enough from Riddick that he cannot reach across and grab him, but only just. Silas does not expect that to happen. On the little table built into the wall, there are six red dice, facets marked with notches instead of the earth-standard dots. Entertaining the cargo.

Though, maybe that goes both ways.

"We don't have to play," he says with a shrug, and then leans forward into their overlapping space, hands laced loosely between his knees. "Maybe you're the kind of person who just doesn't put stock in luck. Me neither."

[serabellyms]

“A man with no enemies is a man with no character.”     ⤷ @primitiveside ✧ richard riddick.

“Ain’t that the truth. Can’t please everyone, no matter how much you bust your ass for them.” Kat swirled her drink in her glass, pondering the thought. “Except I think saying that is you giving the Illusive Man far too much credit. He just makes me think of wet tissue paper, or a wet paper bag.” Soggy, useless, and a pain in the ass. Unfortunately,as many times as they’d got the drop on him, he’d also managed to get the drop on them lately—and it was beginning to piss her off.

Downing the rest of her glass, Kat refilled both of their drinks. “You know… I’m glad you trusted me, back then. I needed people I could trust, that I could do my own research on, and that wouldn’t run the risk of being loyal to Cerberus. I mean, hating Cerberus is one thing… but unfortunately, they were good to us—in ways.” She hated to admit that fact. But Chakwas had summarized it perfectly, and it was a way that Katrina agreed with.

“Chakwas kind of put it in an interesting way, when I asked her if she regretted working with Cerberus. She painted it very differently; she said that we used their resources, and in the end, we took their best people and their best ship, and some of their best tech, too. Hell, EDI alone is an achievement—and she’s a hell of a resource. Even more so, now that she’s taken over Eva Core’s… platform, I guess? It’s given her ways to explore the world, and even help right down on the ground. And her knowledge of Reaper tech, codes, hacking and breaking them… I question what our chances would be without her help.”