A Shot in the Dark

I'm Terri Jones, and all I want is the freedom to ask "Why". ((Pseudo-independent RP / Ask blog for a Protomen OC. Will RP with anyone.))

[askarandomcitizen]

Writing on the Wall

[askarandomcitizen]

heathwhohathnoname:

He wasn’t so worried about, well. The rest of her. Her body should keep the spine insulated enough. As for her face, well he had been trying to fill in the gaps for her faceplate. It should hold up. 

He grinned as he nodded. “Of course. Got to have all our gear ready.” He couldn’t help it. It was time to really leave a mark on this town. A very, veryt visual mark. 

A small huff escaped Terri at the grin, though she wore her own muted version at it, hidden as it was. “Right, right. Well...” One more breath, rolling her shoulders back, servos giving a small whir as she moved to the door. “I’d say serious faces, buut..Well. Let’s just get to the job.” With that, she walked out, posture shifting from friendly to tensed as she darted down the sewers. She’d walked the path there before, checked the route over and over. The good news was they could stay underground for a good chunk of it.

When they did reach their waiting point, the skies were turning from bright to darkened once again. Normally they aimed to move and strike fully at night, but the patrols recently had caught onto that habit, making a change needed. 

Their break point was one of the older buildings in that part of town, a lower floor with plenty of exit points and a good path towards their destination, mere minutes away. Terri kept to the doors, stalking near silently between them. Considering everything she lugged, it was quite the feat.

[askarandomcitizen]

Writing on the Wall

[askarandomcitizen]

heathwhohathnoname :

He couldn’t have his partner getting knocked out of commission by his own wares now, could he? Plus, with the state of her arm and the tearing it caused, there had been a lot of rambling on the subject. The very state of it was a personal insult to Heath.

Playing with his HUD, he marked the same target on his map. He grabbed his satchel and pulled out the new collapsible shield and the mask. He patted them both before sliding them back in. “And the usual gear to cover our escapes.” he grinned. This was the same but different. Hitting closer to the center of town though. And plus…

He grinned and pulled out the serape. “Even got the stage clothing ready.”

The paper was folded, tucked neatly into a breast pocket for quick reference, and she nodded, optic flickering at the sight of the mask. It was an odd make, somehow familiar, and yet...not. Another blink. Ignore it hushed in her mind, shooing away the scent of ozone before it could linger further.  "R-right.” A cough.  She was nervous about those EMPs. Her arm going inert was the least of her concerns, the shielding on the rest of the cybernetics was not exactly the most solid. Especially her spine. Still, she reasoned, best not to focus. “You have the voice modulator in that thing?"

In turn she grabbed a series of metal plates, strapping them to her remaining human arm with practiced efficiency; a new layer of armour, just in case the metal one couldn't move fast enough. Then, her fringe was pushed back as she scooped a helmet from the desk, sliding it on with a soft click. "Mhm, yeah. Slip in quiet, slip out loud and then quiet. We've got a few hours to cross town, so let's get to it."

[askarandomcitizen]

Writing on the Wall

[askarandomcitizen]

heathwhohathnoname:

It had started off more of a thought than a plan. A drunken suggestion, a way to get the blood pumping again. That’s the headspace Heath lived in. That’s what he was good at. Picking people up. Setting the fire. And god did this place need it.

He had learned a few more things watching Terri. How to be quieter. Move quicker. Not use as much energy with each hit. He had been self taught and while it had worked well in the past, in this city? He needed a bit of refinement.

And KILROY had given him that chance.

He got a chance to whip out his old charisma. To show this City that Wily and his forces weren’t invincible. That they didn’t have control. And if they didn’t have control, how could they keep them safe? Or be the City’s hope?

The cracks had begun, and he couldn’t help but grin.

He nodded at her plan. “Sounds good. As for the Snipers though….” he slid across the floor, the ramshackled wheels of his chair squeaking slightly. Grabbing a few cylinders, he pushed back toward Terri. “I finally have enough materials for the EMPs. And they should be strong enough to affect them even through their armor.”

He offered a few to Terri. “They shouldn’t effect the your arm with the new shielding, but you probably still would want to be out of the blast.”  

Terri blinked. Or. Winked. Honestly at this point it was hard to tell the difference, but she took the EMPs carefully, inspecting one up close with her human hand. The cybernetic fingers twitched at the thought; that shielding had been one of a few upgrades Heath had absolutely insisted on after seeing the state of her prior gear. 

Several drunken rambles had been dedicated to the subject, and a decent share of sober ones, too. 

The EMPs were carefully put on the back of her belt, out of reach for accidental jostling. “Yeah, i’d...rather not be unable to use this thing. Considering we know they’re going to step up their game this time around.” She moved back to the map, pulling off the part of the patchwork papers that marked their target, flipping it over to show potential points of entry. 

“Which, uh, by the way, means we really need to be quiet until we’ve got a foothold. If we’re going to be interrupting the regularly scheduled broadcasts.” She held it up for him to see; one point was a low entry, with a slog upwards likely. Another involved them splitting up, her gaining access from up high, drawing attention to let him slip inside. 

“You got your mask ready, speaking of?”

[askarandomcitizen]

((Have a Terri))

[askarandomcitizen]

Writing on the Wall

To say everything had been going to plan wasn't strictly true.

The duo had managed to pull off some daring stunts in the prior months. The aim of the game had been similar each time; hit a broadcast centre, engage in hijack of the airwaves, push what they could on their end whilst gleaning all they could in the meantime. They’d suffered some injury, and setbacks aplenty. Their window of entry and exit had grown shorter, but their methods had refined.

Terri would often sneak in first, between the patrols and dodging the screens, neutralising what she could quietly, efficiently. When she didn't, she would follow behind Heath's entry, picking off those who weren't attracted towards the noise and gunfire to keep his back covered. She would frequently rush the broadcast centre once the main threat was down, ensuring the room's guard were out of the way and covering Heath-KILROY's path.

KILROY. That name had begun to be whispered about the streets, much to the Loyalists' chagrin. Someone who again and again had, in their minds, singlehandedly broken past the guards and beat back the growing ire. Terri found it highly amusing, and a fantastic cover were the worst to pass. They'd look for one when there were two. If anything did happen, that would leave one free to break out the other, or to keep to the fight.

Not that she dwelled on the worst more than she needed to.

Now, in their little base of operations, they were putting forwards their plans for the next stage. Gleaned data showed them how to take over the images as much as the airwaves, and they were already considering where next to hit. The issue at hand now was location; the outer centres had been hit, but going more central was much, much more risky.

"If we go in between the morning patrols and bunker down about this area" she began, pointing to their makeshift map (a result of many scouting missions, patched with overlaid papers to change parts corrected), "then we can hit them about four in the afternoon when they do the change of the guard in the plaza. Gives us a good five minutes of disorganisation before they can hit out harder....though...that leaves the Snipers still. Hm.."

[askarandomcitizen]

Thirty seven times reconfiguring this pistol and i’m still not sure the trigger pull is right.

It’s too heavy.

...

Maybe that’s for the best.

[askarandomcitizen]

25. — return

“So it’s come to this, then?”

The charge had been a success. The Light Brigade had rushed the Tower, pushed their way through the guards, and even now continued to fight off the oncoming robots that flooded the halls.

The room was in shambles. Detonations in the lower floors had sent shockwaves upwards, shattering windows and knocking over furniture. There was no denying the reality of what was unfolding. There was no way the Loyalists could turn this around.There was no way Wily would be leaving a free man.

He stood at the end of the room, coat billowing in the harsh wind. Papers and ash flew between him and Terri, many of the cabinets set aflame. Clearly, the old man had accepted the loss, understood that this was the end of his reign, and had decided certain information would never come to light. Were the situation different, Terri would be rushing to save them, to preserve the facts.As things stood now, she was less inclined to do so. Both father and daughter had pistols drawn, aimed firmly at the other.

“Stand down, Wily. You’ve lost.”“I’ve not lost until i’m either dead or in custody, Teresa” he replied with a low laugh. “Until that happens, there’s always another hand to play.”“Don’t call me that.”“Why not?”Her optic flickered, grip tightened on her weapons. “Not my name anymore. Hasn’t been for years.”“You cannot abandon your name, just as you cannot defy your blood, my dear.”

 A sinister grin grew as another hand reached into his coat. She fired a warning shot that clipped his arm, flesh torn and burnt and cauterized in an instant. A yell, and it dropped limp, but the other kept their weapon steady.“Put down the gun.”“After you just shot me?”“Final warning.”He laughed then, a horrendous, sickening laugh that made Terri wince. It tore with the wind, with the fire and the smoke.

“So, you think you’ve won?”“The Tower will be secure soon, those remaining loyal gathered up and detained. The RM systems are destroyed, and you have no where else to run” Terri replied plainly, keeping her gun trained on him as Wily shifted on the spot. “There’s no think. Either way, this ends.”“And will you lead them?”“No.”

That made his smile crack. “You did not lead this?”“This is the people’s revolution. I’m here as a figurehead, and to make sure you don’t get away.” Her thumb pulled the hammer of the pistol. “Nothing more.”“You expect me to believe that?”“There are no crowds for either of us. Just this burning wreck.”“And yet-”“Drop. Your weapon.” She looked done with words. He grinned back, lopsided and feral. Another detonation below, the ground shook and glass rained down.Three shots rang out.

Two figures fell.

And then there was nothing.

[trickormemes]

One Word Writing Prompts

Send me a number 1 thru 50 for a word that I’ll use to write either a headcanon, drabble, or starter. Send 🌀 for a random number instead.

01. — first 02. — kiss 03. — final 04. — numb 05. — broken 06. — wings 07. — melody 08. — rules 09. — chocolate 10. — nostalgia 11. — heartbeat 12. — stranger 13. — confusion 14. — bitter 15. — afterlife 16. — daybreak 17. — audience 18. — endless 19. — fireworks 20. — wishing 21. — birthday 22. — tomorrow 23. — oppression 24. — agony 25. — return 26. — protection 27. — boxes 28. — hope 29. — preparation 30. — beautiful 31. — lies 32. — underneath 33. — hide 34. — diary 35. — unforeseen 36. — conditional 37. — gone 38. — clear 39. — heartache 40. — wired 41. — insanity 42. — foolish 43. — words 44. — study 45. — love 46. — skies 47. — stars 48. — lucky 49. — shake 50. — punctual

[fantaxi]

Send 🍳 for a heated debate with my muse

[askarandomcitizen]

did you smooch her

....Excuse me?!Please do not be implying what- dear god no, not the Huntress, what?!

I’d rather stab her than do that, thanks you very very much!

[askarandomcitizen]

flashback!

A nondescript alleyway in a City on the edge of war. Nothing much of note compared to those surrounding, but for one oddity emblazoned against the wall.

ALBERT THE KID IS GHOSTING.

A strange line indeed. Written as wild protest against the world, or the ramblings of someone with no other outlet, the origins of the graffiti was something of a mystery amongst the locals. Many times it had been washed away, painted over, and many times it had returned. It was an oddity that drew the eyes of many, both friend and foe.

Terri stared upwards at the scrawl, comparing it to a scribbled imitation in her notebook. It had changed some in the years, little parts changing from how she’d transcribed it, but the words still resonated. Somehow, it felt…personal.The chances of it being as such were slim to none, and she mused how many others had the same thought.

“You’re here again?”

She didn’t even turn to the new voice, though the book was snapped shut, tucked back into her coat. “Yeah, suppose I am.”“So goddamn predictable, girl” huffed back, hands shoved in her pockets as she sauntered over. “It’s just some dumb writing, right?”“It’s one of the few bits of history this City’s got, Jen” Terri sighed, adjusting herself. “I just hope it survives what’s about to happen.”“You nervous?” Jen asked, coming to a stop and slamming her arm over the other’s shoulder. That drew her eye away, with a weak smile.“One way to put it, I guess.”“Yeaaaaah can’t say I blame you that much, I mean, this means a lot to us all, buuuuut…” A lopsided grin, and she pulled the shorter Terri closer. “You’ll be alright, girl. You best be.”“What, thinking i’m going to do something stupid?” Terri asked, and Jen’s smile cracked.

“Considering everything? The whole "Give up everything I own”, big speeches, rallying calls and plans for after you’ve put in place missing a certain someone? Gee….I wonder" was her retort, concern creeping into the otherwise high-energy woman’s tone. “What could have given me a hint?”Terri gave Jen a sad look, optics dimming. “I’ve no intention on dying, Jen, c'mon.”“Yeah but you’ve no intent on being involved with what comes after. Bit shady, ain’t it?”No response from Terri for that, her gaze drawn back to the writing on the wall. Jen’s followed, and for a brief time there was silence.“So his name’s Albert?” Jen eventually asked, clearly not comfortable with it.“…Yeah. Albert William Wily.”“Yeesh, what a name. Way too many W’s, and much too stuffy, right?” She stuck out her tongue.“Teresa Victoria Jones is hardly not.”“Can it.  You’re Terri Jones, at most. Ain’t no Victoria in you.”

Terri grew quiet again, biting her lip. “We’ll see tomorrow.”“You’re overthinkin it again, you know, girl” Jen sighed, arm slipping down to rest on her hip. Terri flinched. “You chose that name and you’ve chosen your path, right? So, trust that. Enough people trust you to lead this shit, so you should-”“The Lions are leading it, Jen, not me” She corrected, with a small cough, figeting slightly under the grip. “I’m just a figure to prove a point.”“That a Wily’s just human?”“….That the kid’s not ghosting anymore.”

A hand grazed the other. A breath. She’d made her choice. 

[askarandomcitizen]

♦ - HOARD

♦ - HOARD - something that is precious to them

Terri had never owned a lot. When all began to move she'd donated what she could, redistributed what little was hers in the face of what she saw as inevitable death. No sense taking books to the grave, now was there? Or pots, pans, bedding...

The Lions had made great pains to ensure the books, especially, were preserved, but there was one she was too reluctant to let go of. Most of the pages had been torn out, and what little she had found had been recreated in inserts. The thing itself served as journal and reminder, and when all was said and done, she decided her innermost thoughts were not for the world to peruse.

One argued it'd be worth seeing the inner workings of a Wily child turned against their father, but she shook her head. What was about to happen would strip her of any anonymity and privacy. She could at least keep this.

Even now, a world away, or..not? She still wasn't sure, and thinking on it was too much of a headache right now. Literally. A pinch at the bridge of her nose as she carefully pulled it from a breast pocket as her back was turned to Heath, working astiduously at his bench.

The pages were worse now. Smeared with some strange, irridescant dust. It bemused Terri, but as her fingers brushed against it she felt something inside resonate.

At least she still had that privacy.

[askarandomcitizen]

☂ - THUNDERSTORM

☂ - THUNDERSTORM - a difficult or miserable time in their life

There was an argument.

There was an argument and she had left. In her state, she had taken what she owned and walked out. What was happening, it wasn't healthy for either of them. Wild escapism, at best, and at worst?

Self-flagulation.

She'd set up some small safehouse across the City, and had taken it on herself to make things right. Enough was enough. But she couldn't amass some great force. She was no leader, but she was a fighter, and if fighting was all she knew, if it was what she had been remade to be-

Don't think like that. He wanted that.

She stalked the streets alone, wrapped in the vestige of a system that she rejected, to protect those caught out by it. One of those attempts had turned fowl, her robotic arm shot, plating fracturing with the repeated strain, and a knife in her leg. She'd given the citizen a chance to run, at least, and without any painkillers to hand that had to serve as her anaesthetic of choice.

Sloppy, she thought. Normally, there'd be no way she'd fail. This...her mind was too distracted.

There was no way she could run fast enough to escape the oncoming Snipers. Not in that state. So she hid amongst garbage, doing what she could to still her breathing, temporarily disabling all electronic systems. A risky move.

Her spine went limp, her body ached and hurt. They stopped to inspect the rubbish pile, and she felt herself slipping. Red optics glazed across every nook and cranny, and they raised a buster to fire-

The shot hit right next to her foot. The smell was atrocious, and it took all she had to not yell out. But she held still. Like a corpse. Eventually, the units decided they were mistaken, and split off to investigate the surrounding area, giving her chance to reactivate it all and drag herself out of the rubbish and into the sewers.

Everything hurt. Errors cropped up with wild abandon, and she felt every motor reset and click back into place. Her leg was, at least, not bleeding too badly yet. That'd come later, she thought, gritting her teeth as the manhole was slid back in place, and she came to a rest a short while away.

"Hah...hah...hah...okay...Safehouse is half a click away..." mumbled between everything, the world a red and spinning blur to her now. A shake of her head. "Up, Terri. Get up."

Her body didn’t react. She didn’t want to get up, didn’t want to move. In fact, after months of this, after everything, a very, very quiet voice in her head had grown louder, stronger.

The grim mood settled on her like a lead blanket, and she slowly shook her head.

“...Not today. Get..get up.”

[monstrousthingsrp]

Monstrous Headcanons:

Because we can’t all just put brains in jars to see how they tick.

♦ - HOARD - something that is precious to them ✿ - DECAY - an old memory, from childhood perhaps ⚔ - DUEL - a meeting or relationship that was important to them ♥ - STAKED - a jarring event, something that changed their life/outlook ∇ - TOMBSTONE - who they are versus who they appear to be ☼ - DAYSTAR - a secret they don’t want coming to light ☂ - THUNDERSTORM - a difficult or miserable time in their life ⚖ - SCALES - how well they balance their good and bad impulses ϟ - LIGHTNING - something they thought they’d left in the past, returned ☢ - BIOHAZARD - the most dangerous thing about them to others ♬ - DIRGE - a habit, hobby, or obsession they can’t seem to shake ■ - LAIR - where they live, work, or spend most of their time ☠ - DEATH - the closest it’s come to touching their life

Ask on-anon or off!

[exorcist-on-paws-blog]

Reblog if I'm allowed to send you in character asks even if we have never talked before.

[themusewhomuses]

Send in “Flashback” for a scenario of my muse’s past.

[brigadierinwaiting]

I live for the day I win the fight Finally I get to choose what’s wrong and what is right I will be the king And I will be in charge of everything I have the right to reign I never need your permission again I hope you’re on my side Traitors cannot hide when I am king when I am king

“Finally, something interesting’s happening! Let’s see how this unfolds.”