american-car-transporters-blog

[ameasureofpower]

@sonofrusalka Prompt: Stargazing

(Would have just copy pasted to the ask, but mobile sucks.)

It stings, doesn't it? The salt within the wind grates your narrowed eyes, shrapnels your skin, and burdens your thin, paper-like gown. It rubs your throat raw when you breathe it in, and, still, you desperately gulp it down like the nearly drowned. The essence must be so unlike the regurgitated warmth they feed you down below - that artificial embryonic fluid they pump through your nose, mouth and artificial veins.

Where are your tubes now, I wonder? You must have torn them out during your flight. There is a sheen across your skin both blood red and mechanical, mucous white. Don't worry. The streaks are hard to see in this limited light. Everything is. Except for that longing in your hollowed eyes.

You must know that you cannot leave tonight. That cold, lapping darkness just beyond the rail is deep. It will swallow you whole. And by now I suspect you would rather fly.

I take a step closer and now you turn. The panicked look upon your haggard face is almost precious in its lethargicness. It's the drugs that warp your mind. The drugs, the cold, the heat, the memories...too many to name.

No. Quiet. I won't hurt you. I won't touch you. There is no need.

They are hunting for for you. I hear them within the static at my ear. When they find you you'll have something to fear.

They will drag you down flights of stairs, chain you within a cell, peel your skin, take your blood, remove your limbs...

But for now you are safe here with me.

With battered sighs and a heavy heart you ask why I am here like I am the one running away - the one with something to hide, to fear.

I show my teeth and point up at the clouds that darken the moonless sky. I came to look at the stars, I say, while my eyes remain on you.

[remember-panchaea]

👻- As a ghost

                        “How long has it been?”

The wind is silent. It was howling earlier… It was all you could hear.

That’s a lie…

                                                    My heartbeat.

You could feel hear your heartbeat. It’s … there. It’s beating… you think?

                … What does it matter?

“You left me alone.”

You’re not really sure why you’re saying this. He won’t hear you. He won’t respond. He never responds. He always watches you with eyes that know the sort of peace you haven’t felt in years.

                                                I haven’t felt anything in years.

You keep waiting. In between every breath you take, every sentence you speak, every time you find your courage to speak to him.

To speak to this phantom.

“He isn’t real.”

                                 That’s what your psychologist said.

         She clearly knows the truth.

                                                     “It’s trauma, Adam.”

                  You can still hear her voice.

What if… it isn’t just trauma?

                                You’re looking up into eyes that are blue… blue.

You remember when your eyes were blue. Before the first attack, before you were changed forever, before the augmentations, before Hengsha, before Panchaea, before the world fell apart.

It cracked open and you witnessed its molten insides.

                                   You heard your heartbeat.

              As you drifted to the ocean floor, your conscious mind faded.

You remember… blue.

The ocean all around you, the weight crushing inward.

The weight of your failure the ocean’s dark depths, cold and frigid.

                                       … F r e e z i n g …

“Why won’t you leave?” you ask him. He’s been here for months. He’s hovering in the fountain, over the water. His feet touch it but every time you look down, you can’t… see his feet, his legs, his… anything. You only see him when you look in his eyes.

                  …His skin is so pale.

You never felt… scared… when you looked at him. You felt comfort. You felt belonging. You felt familiarity.

                                       It took you a while to realize who he was.

Long nights, where you sat on the bench in front of the fountain. You watched him, as he lingered, silent and unmoving. His skin was illuminated, like light filtering through water overhead.

                    Oil black hiding gleaming gold. He’s rusted now.

It’s been so long.

                              I can count the scars.

                                                 I remember where you got each.

                    I can see the stamp. It never faded.

                                      It’s faded now…

You’re not sure why he won’t leave. You’re here, aren’t you? Isn’t this you? Isn’t this your body, your pain, your skin, your aches and your sadness?

Isn’t this… your ghost?

                                              The ghost of you.

                    I died.

                                       I shouldn’t be here.

              Why won’t you let me go?

                                                                Please…

                                It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

                                                 …

                                                                I tried…

                           I’m so tired…

And you can’t help but feel

                             like he’s trying

                                       to bring you home.

                                                  You belong to the sea.

                                                                Your heart doesn’t beat.

                            …

                                           Y o u   a r e   n o t   r e a l

[houndofdetroit]

sonofrusalka replied to your post “sonofrusalka replied to your post “I’m going to kill Seb.” What did...”

WELL THEN. Long time no see, won't you have a bowl of cereal with me???

*Makes grumpy noises but scoots over anyway*

[chrisp30redfield-blog]

✪

One  ✦ = They don’t want to do this at all.Five  ✦ = They would die to be doing this!(Zero  ✦  = “Wat?!”)My muse would like too…✦ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧  dance with your muse.✦ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧  sing for your muse.✦ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧  ask your muse out on a date.✦ ✦ ✧ ✧ ✧  take a bath with your muse.✦ ✦ ✦ ✧ ✧  hold your muse tight.✦ ✦ ✧ ✧ ✧  lean onto your muse.✦ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧  kiss your muse.✦ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧  sleep with your muse.✦ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧  marry your muse.✦ ✦ ✧ ✧ ✧  watch your muse sleep.✦ ✦ ✧ ✧ ✧  cuddle your muse.✦ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧  go to a party with your muse.✦ ✦ ✧ ✧ ✧  watch a movie with your muse✦ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧  play video games with your muse✦ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧  steal horses with your muse.✦ ✦ ✦ ✧ ✧  cook together with your muse.✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦  support your muse’s hobbies.✦ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧  get drunk with your muse.✦ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧  watch your muse cry.✦ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧  send your muse away.✦ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧  make your muse trip.✦ ✦ ✧ ✧ ✧  deny your muse’s existence.✦ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧  slap your muse.✦ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧  crush your muse’s dreams✦ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧  set your muse’s home on fire.✦ ✦ ✧ ✧ ✧  kill your muse.

[onearmedsurvivor]

@sonofrusalka liked for a drunk starter.

Piers wasn’t one to drink too often, but there were mostly two occasions in which he would indulge himself into the drinks. One of them was his birthday, while the other would be New-Years, AKA, today.

He was with his colleagues from work, a group of a few people he knew well, as well as his Captain. Usually, he was the one to remain sober, since he didn’t like getting drunk, as well as he was everyone's driver but this time Chris was the one who insisted on taking the driving duty. Piers didn’t wish to poke and question his Captain, especially not on a night in which they’re supposed to loosen up, therefore he took this year for himself to enjoy.

After he was driven back to his home, Piers decided to take a short walk around the residence before he would actually go upstairs. While it was a risk, walking around tipsy and not fully coherent, he didn’t wish to just finish the night so early.

[kollerxvaclav-blog]

👤+ Tars Rytíř

“... Who the fuck...?????”

[sariifindustries]

A gold envelope in the mail. It's a card holding a pair of tickets to a Tiger's game. Hopefully the man will take a break and go.

     Sarif calls him up once he receives the card. He’s in good spirits -- feeling better than he has in a while. “Bit of a gift for yourself too, huh? Don’t think I know anyone else who’d be interested in a Tiger’s game.” 

[axgodxreborn]

sonofrusalka replied to your post “”

👀 

Look who’s back.

[frenetiicpony]

[ Flower Series ] Adam Jensen ;; Water Lily

Commission for @sonofrusalka

[rain-a-dragomir]

@sonofrusalka

Continued:

“Heh, I know. It’s an odd name. My parents were a bit. . . eccentric to say the least. They each gave my siblings and I somewhat uncommon names.” He mused aloud, letting his own flesh and bone fingers slide from the man’s grip. There had only been a moment of curiosity once it truly registered with him, that he couldn’t feel warmth of his skin. Or feel the beating pulse just beneath flesh. Only the strange smoothness that was of some kind of metallic / plastic, and the fact it wasn’t ice cold, nor warm. It wasn’t a sensation he was ultimately expecting, but as quickly as it had thrown him for a loop, it was shaken off. Rain smiled brightly, one of those genuine ones that reached a person’s eyes, as his sparkled in the dim lighting. “No need to apologize, I guess I had to make a fool of myself at some point. Though aside from that, it’s a pleasure to meet you Adam.”

Quietly he stood up for a brief second as his fingers fished for something deep within his pocket, only to pull out a small leather wallet. Sitting back down, making sure not to lean too far back upon the stool, he removed a small ebony card and placed it on the counter. While he still wasn’t entirely sure what the currency here was, nor could he quite remember the conversion rate. It was probably best to just let his bank take care of the issue, so once again drinks were on him. Hopefully that wouldn’t be a literal statement. “A music festival? Here?” He responded to the question with another that seemed a bit obvious that One, he hadn’t a clue. Two, he was here for something else, other than music. “What kind of music? Hopefully it isn’t anything that these younger kids are listening to.” He mused more to himself than Adam at that point, his Ice colored hues taking in the man in his periphery.

Rain noted there was an air about the man, as if he held himself in a different manner than most of the patrons in the bar. Rigid, coiled, loaded. The man was relaxed, but seemed ready for just about anything. He was also quite sure that Adam was keeping a close eye on everything behind those mirrored lenses, including himself. If he were to guess, he might have pegged Adam for some sort of Law Enforcement, maybe something in the armed forces? Through his Ice colored hues, he surveyed Adam for a moment, taking in what little features were visible. The angular face, neatly trimmed facial hair, the black coma’s that framed his hidden eyes. He hadn’t felt anything in his gut that said stay away, to not trust the man next to him, much like it had earlier in the week when someone attempted to run him over; but that was another story entirely. “I’m just briefly visiting, getting lost. Had to take a break from work when I got word my family home had been broken into, and a few things had been nicked. Heirlooms and such. So I had to travel all the way up to Germany to take inventory.” He explained in short. With no question there was more to the story, like the items that were listed as missing, or why it would require him to take a seemingly long journey just to check it out. “Odds and ends. Family roster, a few old books and such.” He said shrugging his broad shoulders.

[thorndale-industries]

What is the biggest headcanon deviation from the canon material that you have incorporated into the way you write your muse? Why did you come up with it?

Currently I guess it’s his haircolour *grins*.

I have no idea why they changed his hair from auburn/ginger to black, and I will never accept this. There is a crack headcanon in my verse that Robert had to dye his hair black because he lost a bet with Gillian (it was about eating 2 buckets of Ben and Jerry’s), but he will remain auburn/ginger in my story and in the comic when I get my ass to it one day.

Another inconsistency regarding his looks are his forehead marks, but that’s mostly the developer’s fault. In HR he has only one dot on his forehead that looks very mechanical, close to the ones other NPCs have, and in MD they look like in the first Deus Ex and he has 2 dots. I just say he got upgraded versions *shrugs*

The biggest deviation from canon is probably the way I handle nanoaugmentations later in the timeline. In DX1, there are very visible, constantly glowing marks on the skin, like a permanent circuit pattern. In my verse, nanoaugmentations are invisible as long as they are inactive and they create a very fine, blue glowing circuit pattern on the whole body -  depending where they have to work and what the machines are supposed to do (for example of they have to close a wound, the complete area around that will start to show this pattern).  To me, this makes simply more sense since they are tiny machines living in your body who are “asleep” until they have a job to do, and regarding the stigma visibly augmented people have and how experimental/classified nanoaugmentations are, it makes just more sense to keep them as hidden as possible. 

[houndofdetroit]

sonofrusalka replied to your post “I’m going to kill Seb.”

What did Seb do?

Kicked me out.

[chrisp30redfield-blog]

56. State 8 facts about your body, 20. Do you shower every day?, 78. What’s your dirtiest secret?

56. State 8 facts about your body.

“Eight? That’s quite a lot…”

1. Extremely flexible and agile for his size.2. Weighs less than appears to be.3. As much as he prefers maintaining a normal daily schedule, he have noticed performances are better at night.4. His hair growth seemed to take a hit after the P30 drug administrated. Not critically, but enough to make a difference.5. His body makes him self-conscious at times.6. His body is completely natural.7. There were many scars covering his body, however Wesker took care of most of them.8. He stands at 7 inches. You know what I’m talking about.

20. Do you shower every day?

“I sure try to.” He says, before adding. “Each night I end up spending in the living quarters, I make sure to shower before bed.”

78. What’s your dirtiest secret?

“I don’t have one!”

[onearmedsurvivor]

sonofrusalka replied to your post “That cyborg sure got some patience.”

I've been well trained.

With all due respect, sometimes descipline and self-control can go fuck itself.

[kollerxvaclav-blog]

👅 + cereal

“love of my fucking life. if it weren’t illegal i would eat cereal every day for breakfast.” 

[sariifindustries]

He draws his beard, or an approximation of it, on Sarif's face.

Write something on my muse ;;

     “Dunno if it’s a look for me. But seeing that it’s permanent marker… Guess I’m stuck with it for a while. Thanks.”