A HERO, A KING, A GOD.

[cfhyperion-archived-blog]

I know there were replies & starters in my queue just now, and I know I said I will just have reduced activity, but actually, this blog is going to get inactive. 

It’s really unhealthy for me to be on here, and that’s probably my own fault more than anyone else’s. I apologize for everything, but it’s really awful for my mental health, and I need to take care of that.

For now, this blog is archived. I don’t know if I will ever come back, or if I will delete — I haven’t decided on that yet. But for certain I need to leave for now.

If you wanna catch me, I’ll be over at @servethefuckingbeam & my skype is traumflammen. 

Thanks for anything else and understanding, and sorry for this. 

[iigniiferroque-a]

@cfhyperion continued from x

Morals? And what’s that?

Some four hundred odd years are a long time, even for some monsters. Long enough to lose too much on the way, long enough to be broken and rebuild yourself only to be broken anew, time and again. Time enough to decide, somewhere along the line, that enough is enough, and build your own morals. For instance…

“People die all the time.” She shrugs off the tip of pride that she feels at the receiving end of his approval. It’s always nice to find points of connection with this man. “ Survival of the fittest, strongest, whatever it was. If you ask me, that’s just making room for the right people.” The handful of loved ones that you want to prosper and you’d slaughter countless others for. In the end, that’s how the world works: you carve yourself and your close ones a space, defend it nail and tooth at any cost, and if you can’t stand by that simple principle or are too weak to do the dirty work, well… who’s to say you don’t deserve to die?

[cfhyperion-archived-blog]

                  Sometimes he wonders what things she must have already                   gone through; what she had experienced and lost. 'cause                   that sure as hell didn't sound like she wasn't talking about                   things that had already happened, to some degree at the                   very least. Then again he assumes these things were just                   bound to happen if you lived that long. 

                  (Not that it matters much; not long as he can protect. And                    if he's being honest, he'd turn against her or Grendel in a                   heartbeat if it was necessary to keep Angel safe; even if it                   had to mean his doom. She doesn't need to know that.)

      "There's still too much trash around. Got a lot to do left."

[pastismyown]

“What life? You don’t have one of those.”

She’s missing something, obviously, but she’s also not about to drop the conversation because he’s not answering her questions. There were a lot of things kept from her from times before she arrived on Helios, but not all of it was on purpose. Yet the single word answer  somehow felt personal, considering they were talking about the Pandora mainstay Mad Moxxie.

“What, did she dump you? Is that it?”

[cfhyperion-archived-blog]

      "Manners, Nat. Have you ever actually heard of that?"

                  Fine. He's just going to ignore her now. As childish as                    that might be; he's not going to murder one of his best                   assassins over that. Put too much effort and time into                   her, really — would be a shame to wreck all progress                   they've made. 

                  So he settles back and grabs the first stack of papers                   on his desk. Ugh. Quarter reports of import. Couldn't he                   least get anything interesting? 

[servethefuckingbeam]

    He could talk the devil into setting himself on fire.

[cfhyperion-archived-blog]

@weaponsdonotweep

      “ — come again?”

                  His way of saying ‘don’t repeat that or I’ll shoot                   you several times’, actually. 

[cfhyperion-archived-blog]

"I don’t like the adjectives ‘new’ or ‘longtime'—they suggest there was a past before me."

Welcome to Night Vale, Listeners

      "Oh, don't be ridiculous — of course there's been        people before you. Whether you like it or not."

                  To be fair, he's only half listening; the latest finance report                   from HR makes him contemplate of just how many people                   he has to get rid to make that somewhat acceptable again.                   (All of them seems like a nice option, but sadly one he'll                  have to scratch.) Furrowed brows are stuck on his face                   (as well as it translates) over the paper anyway, though.

      "What bothers you about it anyway? You're here       now, so, don't see your problem at all."

[grcndel]

never have i done anything wrong, ever, in my life

i act out once and this is how you respond??? damn?? and then you sit there? and wonder why i don’t just tell you shit?? fucking fight me

[cfhyperion-archived-blog]

maybe we wouldn’t have this problem if you would actually talk to me 

[cfhyperion-archived-blog]

tfw your own bodyguard (& life partner) teams up with the enemy

[servethefuckingbeam]

    He could talk the devil into setting himself on fire.

[cfhyperion-archived-blog]

"What’s a few lives?"

Welcome to Night Vale, Listeners 

                  See, this is why he likes her. She doesn't try to give him                   these big moral speeches about what's good and right,                  she sees things. He's doing this for the greater value,                   and if that means to sacrifice a few, well, then bad luck.                  Nobody cries after them anyway; and the most would                  act similar, even if they don't admit to it.

      "I knew you'd understand that."

[cfhyperion-archived-blog]

But also I wanna know what the other planets think of Pandora. Like, from how little input we get overall, it seems they don’t care at all, and I always thought Pandora was like early Australia, where everyone sends their criminals to forget about it. And the terrific thought I have at this is that, considering the whole history is written by victors thing, if Jack succeeded and controlled the Vault, if he had wiped off entire cities and landmarks to achieve his definition of order, would the people outside not congratulate him on bringing civilization to this shit hole of a planet? Would that not make him, least to the outside, really the hero he thinks he is? 

[cfhyperion-archived-blog]

timcheals replied to your post:I just killed Nish purposely while the voice...

I did the same thing last night , whoops

ampleinnuendo replied to your post:I just killed Nish purposely while the voice...  

nice.png

firstdegreefraud replied to your post:I just killed Nish purposely while the voice...

whoa there satan

this is like my fifth rerun i need to get creative. friend of mine beat the entire game equipping solely hyperion wherever possible just so he could go “ha, beat you with your own weapons” 

[cfhyperion-archived-blog]

I just killed Nish purposely while the voice modulator is on, so the last thing she hears is Jack. Because I'm awful.

[cfhyperion-archived-blog]

"I want the K."

Kisses ; 9: Jawline Kiss

There is nothing soft between them; nothing that would make one think of anything more than a relationship born out of mutual need and using one another. Bruises are nothing rare, neither are bleeding marks on either skin, little reminders that someone was there, claimed, wrecked, owned. And he wouldn't have it any other way, if he's being honest to himself. Not that he would say it out aloud to the kid and blast his ego (he probably knew by the fact alone that he kept coming back to him, metaphorically as literally), but he liked the thrill of Rhys' teeth on his own throat, liked the taste of his own blood in aggressive kisses, liked the painful dark spots his skin would show afterwards, and liked all the little marks left on Rhys' own.

He doesn't even remember how things started, or when. Seems like it had been going on for a while already.

(He is surprised he even found any memory of that at all; it seems like a thing that would not make it to the data stream, but it laid on one of the Hyperion servers, hidden away, and an assumption is made that it has been left behind by the person he is supposed to be, thinks to is. He doesn't think Rhys had a hint of half the access he had, anyway, and the files already at his grasp. He'll make use of it later.)

How it's gonna end he's also not too sure about. But he knows when it's gonna end, and that's on his terms, without the kid getting any say in it. Not this time, not when the physical component escapes him.

Blue flickers around the sleeping boy, digital lips not quite making contact with his jawline, fading right through, body glitching up at the try of contact. It inflicts something he assumes pain on the code, and that's. Nice. That's the closest he'll get to it. He'll take it.

Thanks, kiddo.

[cfhyperion-archived-blog]

Tags are... full of odd pet peeves I don’t really understand either. 

[cfhyperion-archived-blog]

A little boy on my way home showed his mom my cel shaded jeans super excitedly and told her how cool they are. ♥ Also, here’s my current starter call if you wanna.

[pastismyown]

She’s a shit bodyguard; she knows that well enough by now. Natasha had never exactly seen the job as something she was interested in (hadn’t she been hired to be assassin, anyways? Whatever), but she figured the whole ‘getting involved with the person you’re guarding’ thing had been a bad idea. And seeing Jack drowning in emotions he never should’ve ever felt causes her to start to realize why. It was personal. She’d never had to guard Nisha, but apparently she should’ve been.

Stupid, fucking, murderous vault hunters. In another life she probably would’ve been one herself, but the bastards were barely better than the monsters populating Lynchwood. Her contempt had started out as simply mirroring Jack (easiest way to get him to warm up to her, right?), but the more she watched, the more she hated. The opening of the first vault had been heard around Pandora, and she’d heard a few bits and pieces about Elpis. But it really did take being up close and personal with Handsome Jack himself to get the whole picture.

It really was true that no good deed went unpunished.

The moment of thought distracts her, and she’s slow to stand back up with Jack. She can hear incoming hostiles and pulls her sniper rifled off her back, aiming the sight towards the noise. “We’ve got incoming. We need to move.”

The few brave bandits were taking their dear sweet time, probably due to the absence of gun fire not necessarily a good thing (she’d sat on some of the taller buildings in Lynchwood in the past, picking off the scum of Pandora with a laughing Nisha behind her keeping score). The temptation to pick off one of the idiots was there, but it would alert them all that she and Jack were still there. 

“All due respect, but I’d really rather keep the vault hunters away from the vault and your siren. How ‘bout we finish that up and come back here after?” Her mind wasn’t clear; she had too many conflicting ideas fighting for attention. But the hunters had to go; that much was obvious.

[cfhyperion-archived-blog]

      "That, too."

Obviously — he didn't mean that the very first thing he would do is just rip apart these goons for not doing their job, for not for doing the one simple thing that could have given their worthless life just about any sense of purpose at all. He would very much like to, of course he would, but there are more important things to do. Getting out. Getting Natasha and him out; and Nisha home, and then getting the fuck to these slagged brained Vault Hunters and tearing them apart, all of them, one by one, with his own hands. And once he's done that and opened the frigging Vault, he'd burn Sanctuary down to ashes, have them all know what grief and fear felt like, have them all pay.

The mask only translates half the expressions ranging on his face, anger and grief and fury and disbelief. And she is way too light when he holds her body securely to his own, too light and too still.

(He'll fucking carve into Lilith for that later. For them to take everything close to him one by one — through a fogged mind, for a second he realizes the one standing right next to him now is all that is left, a thought quickly drowned in emotions he doesn't want to accept.)

      "Yeah. Le- Quick stop home, and then we'll fucking burn them to the ground."

Least he's awake enough to actually get moving, even if his vision, shit at his best days, seems to lack even more and there's some tripping in it. Not enough to fall, though. Even if it's sheer will power that keeps him up.