”Do we get three guesses, or…?”
"Go for it. First two don't count, though."

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sheepfilms

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祝日 / Permanent Vacation

if i look back, i am lost

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shark vs the universe
almost home

izzy's playlists!
Monterey Bay Aquarium

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
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cherry valley forever
Sade Olutola
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@arcblxde
”Do we get three guesses, or…?”
"Go for it. First two don't count, though."
nxvabomb replied to your post: “G...
[//waves.~]
"Guess who's back, back, back. Back again, 'gain, 'gain."
{۞} — Though the Warlock’s visage was concealed by her own helmet, she raised her brow in curiosity, noting the underlying critical tone in the other’s voice.
"It’s a party trick, for sure," she chuckled lightly. "Though I wouldn’t say that they ‘run’. I like to think that their kind has learned to be wary of every Guardian.”
There was a truth in her voice as she answered the Hunter’s question. Her tone stood unwavering, like hers.
"It also helps that I shoot left-handed—it tends to confuse them."
She took a step forward, offering to shake the other’s hand in proper greeting.
“My name is Valkyrie. Valkyrie Ardra. What’s yours?”
Gaze flicked down first to the gun -- left-handed, duly noted -- and then to the hand, extended as if in offer of peace, friendship. Acta only just managed to bite the scoff of a laugh that threatened to escape, taking the handshake for what it was if just for the temporary greetings.
One handshake. And then release.
"Your demeanor betrays you as someone I'd sooner have as a diplomat than any kind of soldier," she noted, not quite as curtly as before. Rather, musing, as she rolled her shoulders. "Actaeon is the callsign, and it, graciously, is the only name that matters."
The smile, tight though it may be, was apparent in the way she canted her chin, the lilt to her words.
"What brings you here, hm?"
{۞} — “I know,” the Warlock replied, but her stance remained the same. As she aimed down the sight, she moved to the left and fired once. Twice. Three times.
A pained cry from the Vandal a few feet behind the Hunter pierced the air. As its lifeless body hit the ground, it was then that she lowered her weapon.
"You missed one."
Well --
She hadn't flinched when the other had shot each time, but she had blinked with each bullet, a faint reaction that she wanted to drill from her reflexes. She was grateful for the helmet, and looked back to the other Guardian only after the Vandal's body fell.
"Such a marksman, you are," she said, a bit scathingly, no tremor in her voice. "Do the Fallen run from your very name?"
"Hey, now -- I'm not sporting a second set of arms, so don't mistake me for a Vandal, yeah? I see where you're pointing that gun of yours."
His empty magazine is ejected, disappearing in a haze of transmat energy as he inserts another and racks the bolt on his rifle. The spent container is returned to his Ghost, to be cleaned and loaded again whenever he has a few peaceful moments alone. The flashing red zero in his HUD ticks upward to a comforting four, a nod given over to Actaeon as he begins to walk forward, his motion tracker sounding the all-clear.
"We shall indeed," he murmurs, looking over his shoulder to make sure he isn’t advancing alone. It’s been a very long time since he’s had any company— Most days are spent removing whatever high-ranking Cabal he can find in the immediate area, nights spent slept away buried in the dunes while his armor dripfeeds him the water and nutrients he needed to stay alive. Threes hardly ever went to the Tower. Earth was a home to him only as far as being part of humanity went, and Mars meant a lot more in nearly every way.
He steps over the bodies of the newly deceased aliens carefully, scanning the room for anything that might prove useful. A quiet upwelling of contempt demands he tread upon the corpses of those that desecrate his homeworld, but he doesn’t have the strength to crack through bone of that density with just his heel. He is uncomfortable, miserable memories jostled loose by Actaeon’s passing use of the word commander. Give him a day and he’ll be back to normal.
He smiles quietly to himself beneath his mask, reminding himself to be happy. If you can’t make yourself smile, then no one else will. He hums to himself for a moment, air spent whispering a chorus of a song found in the ruins of the old world.
"Oh baby it’s oh so cold in this place, Oh maybe it’s all so close to the bitter end, Oh maybe it all just burns like a living hell, I’m all alone, and here comes the dawn.”
Actaeon follows -- she does, of course. She is not terrible enough to shoot him in the back and carry on alone to the light that peeks idly through broken stone. She knows her place, knows the point of this life that she's been returned to; self-preservation comes first, but there is a greater reason for being around, she thinks. And self-preservation might bite her in the ass if she leaves him for dead.
(She owes him. It's admitted ruefully to herself once again, and she simply presses lips together and shoulders her gun with a scuff of her boot against the ground.)
She does, however, look at him curiously when the humming begins, a silent reaction to the not-so-silent action.
"Whistling while you work might bring an audience," she notes, appreciative and a bit joking in the manner with which she speaks -- it's clearly not disapproval that marks her words, but rather a camaraderie borne of shooting things in the face. No matter how temporary this pseudo-alliance might turn out to be, it is what it is. "Do continue. If we're lucky, you'll start a concert going, and we can educate the Cabal on true classics while strolling through their corpses."
She thinks she's funny.
this is the funniest thing that’s happened to me in destiny yet
you ever playing a video game and die in such a bullshit way that you need to go lie down for a few hours to recover
arcblxde said: the nine are nerds
agent-of-the-nine said: you shut your mouth guardian
You are to charge this one at three times the proper rate.
Also, fill her boots with tentacles.
"what do you mean there's no black x on my fa--... you really thought it was a tattoo oh hon"
This is still the single dumbest thing that has happened to me on Destiny. It is also the best. I’m so glad that palaninizzle could get it from his PS4.
agent-of-the-nine replied to your post:agent-of-the-nine replied to your post: ...
what is gum
an ancient relic, a delicacy of times past. it could be chewed indefinitely.
Old soldiers’ habits die hard, and it’s easy to forget that not every Guardian is culled from an actual military source. She’s a little less Sunsinger Guardian Luther and a little more First Lieutenant Luther as the micro-fabricated grenade boils around her glove.
The Blink is a little much.
Fuckin’ Hunters.
The opening volley of arc and solar bombs tears the majority of posted Knights and Acolytes into so much foully-stinking plasma, and the Hunter’s round of lead pops the heads of the survivors. Begrudgingly, Luther has to admit that despite the lack of discipline, Actaeon’s not too bad at shooting Hive. This place is wrong, in the sort of way that only alien architecture can. But the sun is with her. The way down is split into dual staircases, and Luther gestures the Hunter to take the right-most one while she the left.
There’s nobody at the clearing down, but goddamnit, there is procedure. Paige is gonna follow it.
It is a grin that appears underneath her helmet, bright and cheery with the thrill of the hunt, burning in her blood (though that could be just a hole in the terraforming; either way, it applies). Shooting Hive is not difficult per se -- it is incredibly simple, a matter of aiming and firing over and over until heads pop, until ash forms, until dust falls. It is easy.
She's enjoying herself, truth be told, and tossing a glance back to her ally, she's directed in a certain place. Again.
Actaeon bites her tongue, keeps the dry reply unspoken, and does exactly as she's told, even as she tries to tally up the score in her head. It could be better, she thinks, and the pulse rifle dematerializes in favor of a hand cannon, trusty and...
Well, maybe a little overconfident.
"Be a little more zealous, my friend," Acta says, an upward curve to her tone.
Send me (ノ◕ヮ◕)ノ for a description of how my muse would kill yours.
agent-of-the-nine replied to your post: looks at the icebreaker longingly. looks...
you’re welcome
;(
xur if i pay u in gum will u give me 1 strange coin in return
Names are important. Names have powers. It doesn’t matter if it’s living or not.
Ichihara Yuko, xxxHolic (via melolune)