admin algaea actually had this drafted for the longest time and is releasing them right now as she comes back in a few days. remember the rule that if you reblog it from someone else, send them one back!
“we need help.”
“you’re gonna be okay.”
“be careful.”
“i am the romantic type.”
“don’t leave me to turn.”
“it’s called luck—and it’s gonna run out.”
“are you still breathing?”
“we’re shitty people.”
“are you flirting with me?”
“what’s holding you back?”
“i’m not comfortable with this conversation.”
“will you /ever/ be comfortable with this conversation?”
💬 DM | @apollygon ○ ○ ○
◆ oh .. with so many compliments, you may inflate my nonexistent ego.
◆ again, you flatter me, as you usually do.
◆ sometimes i wonder if you agree for the sake of agreeing, or if you really do ..
◆ hmm .. i’ve never seen either myself. i don’t even have netflix.
◆ twenty years seems like a gross exaggeration, but i will take your word for it.
◆ why debate a book that seems so well loved?
◆ i can’t say that i have but the title sounds intriguing.
◆ what’s it like to be colourless?
💬 DM | @hollow.bastion ○ ○ ○
◆ it really did take twenty years! I’ve just aged extremely well!!
◆ to be colorless, would be to be boring. or invisible?
◆ “The world isn’t that easily turned upside down... It’s people who are turned upside down.”
◆ what do you think of that?
◆ it’s a good book- v. introspective. I’d lend it to you, but I don’t have a translated copy;;
◆ I could always read it to you, though :)
bile forces its way up his throat. with shaky legs, he forces himself off the body and turns to apollo. dragging a hand down his face, dirt mixing with sweat and gore, he croaks out, “i think that’s the last of them for now—how are you holding up?” bishop’s body aches and burns at the same time, bruises splayed over his ribs, open wounds criss crossed over his arms from too many close calls. one of the mercs fucking headbutted him earlier and he’s pretty sure he has a black eye but—he’s still standing and that’s a victory.
“we should get to the statues quickly. you okay enough to touch them or should i? you’re quicker, but…” instinct tells him to do it himself, but bishop knows he’ll be slow and clumsy right now. “we won’t have a lot of time after the alarm goes off, so let’s get this done and get back to chariot.” bishop is surprised at how calm he manages to sound when he’s anything but—his hands are shaking and all he think is, fuck, let this end.
“Never felt better.”
Both he and Bishop are a mess, arms caked in drying blood as he stands before the other, catching his breath with a grimace. A long-range weapon can have its uses but when it comes to short-range fighting, Apollo’s bow had been all but useless, cylinder ending up back in his pocket at one point, fighting with pure strength. His knuckles are fucked. Torn up. The male’s stamina is also reaching breaking point after forming arrow after arrow, even using them as a tool to maim when rolling in the dirt with the mercs.
“I say we split- one statue each, meet in the middle, touch it together then high-tail it out. Normally, staying together might be smarter but we just don’t have the time. Sometimes the best way to have your friend’s back is to stay out of their way.”
tw: blood, injury
Runner’s high isn’t a myth. He’s always enjoyed it, burning lungs and legs going numb, a true and honest form of exhaustion. LSD trip nearly gone, it’s the first time that Apollo has felt like he’s truly in his own skin as he sprints, muscles protesting with every jarring step take upon bitumen. After splitting with Bishop and having offered to run the furthest distance, a mixture of his own beating heart and gunfire, plays in his ears when the other male reaches his statue first and triggers the alarm. This only makes him run faster, chest heaving and desperation bleeding into his thoughts; hurry up!
When fingers grip his first statue, so cool to the touch, he can’t help but slump forward, gulping down air. Now, more alarms are ringing, coming from all around (clearly, they weren’t the only ones desperate for points)- it’s somewhat disorientating. The streets will be flooded soon. Pushing himself up, he wills tired legs forward with a weary grimace, breaking once more into a run. More gunfire, shouts getting closer and closer, bouncing around an area that would normally be a place of peaceful activity. Despite the escalating chaos, Apollo keeps his eyes on an approaching Bishop whose forms grows closer with every meter covered, never once looking away. Make it to him.
When they meet in the middle, it’s like clockwork. Bishop arrives just before Apollo does, hand slapping down on the statue surface as Apollo comes to a stop. What was a smile of relief, quickly turns to unbridled concern, no time to catch his breath as he stumbles forward, hands reaching out for the other; Bishop’s shoulder has never looked more unnatural, sitting at a worrying angle, face beaded with sweat and clearly in pain. “Bishop!” The male ignores the statue (knowing that his ally has already touched it), first thought to physically support his friend.
With his attention diverted, there is no warning for the incoming pain that he is about to experience.
An object impales itself within Apollo’s side that was closest to the statue, eyes only just catching a glimpse at crimson metal as it slides back into its place of concealment. In hindsight, he will come to realize that his hip had pressed against a button in his haste to reach Bishop- however, as of now, the pain is enough to make the male emit a hurt gasp, hands immediately pressing against the right side of his abdomen. “What the fuck~” He hisses, teeth gritting as he steps away from the statue.
It’s weird, the shock makes it feel like he’s been punched, side a mixture of fire and shooting pain. He goes to say something else to Bishop but the words die in the back of his throat at the site of approaching mercs, their guns at the ready, not quite 100 meters from where the pair stand. With a grunt, he forces himself to straighten up, thankful when Bishop wraps his good arm around his waist.
Like that, they lean on each other, frozen, tired- fucked.
“Fate?” All this for some damn leaderboard points; The question makes his lips curl at the corners, grimly humorous even at a time like this. The fact that they haven’t been shot yet is amazing, groups now emerging from their left and right. There’s too many for Riot, yet he’s still shooting, enough to keep the mercenaries’ progression slow and cautious, ducking and spreading themselves out, keeping enough distance the pair and them. They’re drawing it out for views. It’s morbid, but true.
“Hey B,” This is it, famous last words. Making eye contact with the other, nails digging into his own side, Apollo musters as much energy as he can to delivery this last, smarmy line:
“To die by your side would be such a heavenly way to die.”
💬 DM | @apollygon ○ ○ ○
◆ there’s no such thing as a dumb question, merely a lack of observation
which leads to the question in the first place.
◆ mm.. close. lemony snicket. but you have the premise, so i’ll count it as
a point in the win column for you.
◆ the movie barely covered what occurred in the books … i hear they made
a series on netflix though. i haven’t watched it.
◆ the books are more interesting regardless. as always.
◆ what are you doing?
💬 DM | @hollow.bastion ○ ○ ○
◆ yet again, I am floored by your logic and 100% agree!
◆ and damn! I knew there was smth off about what I said. I’ll take that 1 point gladly :)
◆ I heard that too- I only just got around to watching stranger things, so it’ll take me twenty years to watch it tbh
◆ I’m currently debating whether or not to read ‘Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage’ again... The book is getting a little dog-eared though
◆ have you read it before?
sometimes, the world still feels like a dream - or like it doesn’t exist. they’ve fallen into a city cut off from everything else, a world that never was and the only people here are the ones that remain as shadows, lost. people that shouldn’t exist but do. people that were erased, but live as an afterimage.
there are a lot of shadows for such a small world - they may live on the flip side and an underbelly to the rest, but it’s still packed with many people that she won’t be able to get to meet before they disappear. and they all will disappear, eventually. after all, by all appearances that seems to be the point of this game. but all the people left behind by a world who has forgotten them is the exact reason why xiii finds herself surprised, though her face doesn’t show it. this is an entire pool that’s practically empty in the middle of the hot korean summer. granted, it is late and the sky that hangs over them is dark but it is a small wonder nonetheless.
her head turns to apollo next to her, and though he looks just as he always does with his small smile and his eyes brightening just a little at the water, she almost has to wonder if he did this for her. she doesn’t say anything, though. she never does.
just as her toes dip into the water of the pool with the cuffs of her jeans getting wet from the water, xiii realizes a number of things: that the water is cool to the touch yet it doesn’t seem like it, that she should take a photo to remember the moment by, that apollo brings to her more questions than answers. and in that moment, xiii also realizes that this is what she likes about him.
when xiii wants to look at him, her entire body turns to face him and that is a fact that could not be said for anyone else. “ are you going to swim?”
⎡ I WANT TO LINE THE PIECES UP , @apolloblck
”Yeah, I might hop in now, actually...You’ll join me right?”
His blood thrums. Nervous? Happy? Unsure? His blood is thrumming, loud in his ears, legs languidly swaying in water that laps at his lower shin. To be alone with another is quite a thing indeed. Better yet, the illusion of privacy is what Apollo enjoys best. Existing in a space without the overwhelming feeling of eyes on him. No noise. No false bravado. Just the sound of her- straightforward words delivered like a delicate song.
Xiii has a unique aura to her; analytical, purposeful words, a sharp tongue that he doubts has ever uttered gushy, flowery sentences like he’s become accustomed to in an effort to remain relevant and liked. Yet, he likes the sound of her honesty more than his own, even dry conversations concerning the weather or paint drying could sound sweet coming from her. So every time she speaks, Apollo is certain to listen, eyes never leaving hers and dopey grin in place. Pool lights reflect rippled light across his features, blues dipping into deeply etched smile lines as his head tilts to his right. “You can stay out of the water, of course... It’d be a shame, though, to waste the chance of having everything to ourselves. Or maybe that’s just me being greedy. Either way, I’ll be getting in.”
And he is, in a way. Greedy for her attention, foolishly relieved when he gets it. Apollo asks a thousand questions to Xiii’s one, unabashedly interested despite no encouragement. It’s an unconventional friendship, but it works. Sort of. Fishing his phone out of his pocket, Apollo puts it aside before gripping the bottom of his t-shirt, swiftly pulling it off before discarding alongside his phone. He’d come more prepared than the other, wearing shorts and a simple tee, intending to make the most of a reprieve from missions and the sticky summer heat.
“God, I hope it’s not too cold.” Apollo mumbles and grips the edge of the pool. Slowly, the male eases himself in, nose crinkling as the water hits his lower abdomen. “Okay, definitely not warm.” He hisses, reluctantly lowering himself further until his feet graze the bottom. Half-propped up on the edge, there’s the faintest hint of amusement in his gaze as he gives Xiii’s attire a once over, body slowly adjusting to the cool water.
“You know...” Apollo drawls, chin coming to a comfortable rest on his upturned palm. “Jeans are an interesting choice of swimwear. Can’t say I’ve seen it done before, but I’m sure you could make it work. Probably start a trend.”
💬 DM | @apollygon ○ ○ ○
◆ would i have messaged you otherwise if my thoughts were
meant for someone else? i just thought of you first.
◆ will you laugh?
◆ it’s a series of unfortunate events. for the irony.
💬 DM | @hollow.bastion ○ ○ ○
◆ well.. you got me there. dumb question!
◆ that’s the series by Bellamy Wicket, or something like that, right?
◆ sad, smart orphans with a nasty >:( uncle/guardian/twice removed cousin???
◆ I fell asleep during the movie TT
apollo’s quick clarification was almost as if he had been reading chariot’s mind. it should’ve put his thoughts at ease, but there was some bitterness that came with being talked down to (not that they were wrong). “yeah…okay i’ll do that then.” simply obeying orders was the path he chose for now; can’t be letting any weakness show. “as soon as we scout them out, i’ll find a good spot and fire from there. let’s try to avoid combat as much as possible, though — i rested up a bit during the walk here, but the both of you must be more tired than you’re letting on.” he looks up at the sky knowingly. “i’ll focus on taking them out, and you guys focus on getting out of there alive— i-is that…okay?” the sudden hesitation comes, chariot suddenly remembering that he was the newbie here (damn strategy games).
The fact that Bishop hesitated at all, niggles at the back of his mind, response both what he had expected but also somewhat of a slap on the wrist. Of course he wasn’t going to make Riot run around nor do something he’s uncomfortable with, he just wasn’t used to someone so reluctant to participate- Don’t be a dick, he mentally reprimands himself, shaking his head as though to clear the building paranoia and irritation from his thoughts. Riot’s genuinely hurt...naturally, Bishop would take his side.
“Listen, if you’re not okay with it- that’s fine.” He means it, to an extent. “I don’t blame you... But I mean, if we could get you to a secure position on a rooftop, it’ll work more in your favor anyway because I mean, there’ll be mercs on the ground regardless of whether we’re doing the side quest or not. Taking them out is our best chance of getting to the safe zone, in general. Plus, the darkness will work in your advantage, gives you better coverage I assume? It may make it harder to see though...” His voice trails off, hyper alert at the sound of distant gunfire. His lips purse, thoughts scrambling for a suitable ending to the scenario he’s found himself in.
"We need to go. C’mon, we’ll talk as we walk.” Apollo says with a comforting pat to Riot’s back as he brushes past, cylinder activating once more. Bow in hand and cocksure strength in his step, the male is good at playing the role of flippant point-chaser, but it doesn’t count for much if nobody else feels the same. Facing the pair, the corner of his mouth turns up, warmth clear in his grin. “I hate to be that person, but you’re a lot more capable than you give yourself credit, injured or not. We’ll be fine. Right Bishop?”
- OOC Note :if you’re still interested in plotting, pls like this post/hmu on twitter @blossomite. Trying hard to be more organized/wanted to explain in a v. rambley way my lack of IM replies.
Hey guys, this is just a quick apology- I know I have several unread tumblr/twitter IMS and I intend to get to them tomorrow (it’s currently nighttime for me). This is my first week back at uni, and I have a pretty full on workload, so in general, I’m not as free for replies as I’d like to be, nor is my motivation great at the moment.
I’m not much of a fan of tumblr IMs, and although still slow, have a better track record at replying on Twitter. Admittedly, I’ve been a bit slack there too plotting wise and I can assure you, it’s not from a lack of interest in other muses, it’s legit just my brain being shitty and making me shy about approaching/guilty for going days without replying, so I end up letting them all pile up.
As such, I’ve been trying to keep active with replies on dash but I realize how this may look if people are waiting on plotting replies and I’m sorry if you’ve felt offended/perturbed by this; it takes a lot more effort for me to brainstorm at the moment than it does to write responses/make muse development junk. I’d rather wait to reply to plotting messages when I feel like I can be helpful/contribute fairly to our brainstorming, and it’s just a bit of a rough patch at the moment.
Tl;dr: I’m sorry for being slow and posting things on dash without replying to IMs. I don’t find it easy to keep track of tumblr IMs and greatly prefer twitter. I am slow in general and very thankful for how patient people have been. Please don’t take my slowness personally- it genuinely is just me! I’m trying to work on this.
Apollo’s public/known photo-sharing account on elev8 consists predominantly of obscured headshots of fellow candidates and the occasional photo of himself. Nobody knows why, but Apollo always seems to keep XIII’s face fully shown (which always encourages comments demanding he does the same for himself- Apollo of course ignores and does as he wishes). Followers/sponsors have speculated in the past that the male may posses a private account, reserved for less edited/ informal photos and jokes. Nobody has found it- yet.
cat was used to attention.
be it his smile, his appearance, his voice, he was used to pulling in other’s attention, trigger a sense of interest and attraction. it’s been almost five years since he’s started playing this game and he was used to winning.
and then apollo came.
cat always thinks of him with a sense of annoyance and a cracked edge to his ego because no matter how much he tries and preens and impresses, apollo always ends up ignoring him.
he’s out grocery shopping when it happens again; the other candidates know him, smile at him, glance at him from the corner of their eyes, just waiting to approach, yet apollo couldn’t even be bothered to greet him. immediately, the annoyance spikes in him again and as the thorn in his side continues its twist and turn, cat can’t help but approach.
⟪ just what i was looking for, ⟫ cat starts, slim digits picking the packet of chips from between apollo’s fingers and dropping it in his basket. it’s purposeful and spiteful and he turns to give the other male a sweet smile. ⟪ thank you, apollo. how kind of you to help me out. oh- while we’re both already here, how about you walk with me for a bit? ⟫ it’s phrased as a question, but cat’s fingers are a cool, very much present grip around apollo’s wrist. ⟪ it’s been a while since we talked. ⟫
Five. Five seconds is all that it took before the other seeks him out. In his best effort to not be a complete jerk, he acknowledges Cat’s presence with a snort, eyes firmly focused on the shelf before him. No pushy male was going to bully him into rushing nor playing along, so despite the pressuring grip on his wrist (and the stolen packet of chips), Apollo’s verbal response is purposefully delivered slow. “Just a sec’... I’m trying to think of a good enough lie as to why I can’t...” Petty? Silly? Mean? Truthfully, it’s all one and the same to the male.
Lower lip jutting out as he mulls over what food to choose, Apollo mutters to himself, “I ate that one on Tuesday... Variety is good but then again, sometimes it’s best to stick with what you know.” A minute passes by in much the same fashion, spoken words intended only for himself and not the other, taking his sweet time. Finally, the male selects another packet of chips and promptly tosses it into Cat’s basket. “You’re paying. Thanks.” The delivery is flat- a on-negotiable tax for the pleasure of his company. In challenge, he raises his brow as he looks up at the taller male, daring him to say no.
Come on, give me a reason to walk away, he thinks, lips barely containing his infamous shit-eating grin.
“You wouldn’t mind doing that for little ol’ me, right? I might actually get your name right this time, if that’ll sweeten the deal.”
TESTOSTERONE BOYS; a playlist for the resident chaotic loverboy. [ all songs are linked to youtube! ]
life itself- glass animals | paint me silver - pond | electric indigo - paper kites | insecure - shane | is this how you feel? - the preatures | on + off - maggie rogers | talk talk - george maple | youth - glass animals | cream on chrome - ratatat | cortisol - d.d.dumbo | doing good - milky chance | people vultures - king gizzard and the lizard wizard | pollyanna - dz deathrays | greek tragedy - the wombats | somebody else - the 1975 | stardust - asgeir | come on mess me up - cub sport | down by the water - the drums | sweet disposition - the temper trap.
