harbinger of war

@cmdr-strix

86 posts

my men told me i should make one of these. at least now i can keep an eye on them.

Name: [REDACTED] Callsign: "Strix" Rank: Commander Affiliation(s): Actium Company, ??? Birthplace: [REDACTED], UK DOB: [REDACTED] Age: ~35y/o Height: 194cm Weight: 105kg Pronouns: he / him

tags: strix.exe - posts in character cd c://ghost/ - posts out of character anonymous_strix.exe - anon interactions strix.cfg - character lore / backstory strix.ini - character writing strix.wav - character roleplay

personnel file playlist - TBA

[[ mod posts will be red. ]]

[[ hi, i'm ghost or whatever you want to call me, i don't really care. he/they. over 25. mdni. blog rules are free for all, if it doesn't say closed feel free to interact freely. just treat me like a human, yeah? ]]

[[ all opinions are my own. ]]

[[ main is @ghostsiriley // other blogs: @sgt-rook / @lt-crow ]]

#cd c://ghost/#strix.cfg

Irl footage of @cmdr-strix since everyone asks me how he looks like.

This is pretty accurate, yes.

Gonna print you a stack of business cards with this Pic on it once I'm back.

Plaster them in the mess while you're at it.

#strix.exe #malum ipsum.

Irl footage of @cmdr-strix since everyone asks me how he looks like.

This is pretty accurate, yes.

a-phoenix-must-burn

Phoenix watches as Strix stands, his eyes locked on the man’s careful, deliberate movements. It should worry him that Strix is locking the door. Not just locking it — dead bolting and barricading it. There’s no way that, in the state he’s in now, Phoenix will be able to open the door by quickly.

For some reason, though, Phoenix doesn’t mind. If Strix wants him dead, then he wouldn’t be here right now. That’s all the assurance he needs.

When Strix starts to unclasp the mask, Phoenix can’t help but lean forward a little bit. He watches, slightly entranced, as Strix shakes his hair out and looks at Phoenix.

Fuck, he’s hot.

It’s almost an issue how attractive Strix is. That mask is really doing him a disservice by hiding not only his face but his hair, too. Phoenix had to force himself to nod to snap out of the slight trance he managed to fall into. Lord only knows how long he was staring.

“Mhm. Definitely.” Phoenix looks down at the deck and smirks. “Deal us in again?”

Strix doesn't care when he sees Phoenix tense at the locked door. He doesn't explain, either. Phoenix may get to see his face, but he doesn't need to be told why he hides it. Why Strix goes to such great lengths to keep his identity secret. Why he's a god, not a person.

By all accounts, Strix knows he's attractive. He knows that on paper, he would be desirable. He has strong, sharp features. Striking eyes. Pretty hair. But being appreciated--it's not something that happens often, by nature of his work. Of his secrets. Of his mask.

Even still, his expression is flat. Unmoving. Nothing changes in the way he moves his eyes, neither of his brows move, his lips remain carefully neutral.

And he deals.

A ten of spades and a jack of spades. Perfect.

He watches Phoenix flatly, evenly, as the flop unfolds. Nine of spades. Seven of spades. Two of hearts. If the turn card or river goes his way, he'll have a straight flush.

"You're staring," Strix says. His accent is much clearer without the modulator, a careful, neutral British. It sounds almost fake just as much as it does natural.

#strix.exe #ashes and aces #sigh Phoenix and his appreciation for men #<- he can appreciate all men i love him

a-phoenix-must-burn

Interesting.

Phoenix finds himself watching Strix’s hands with curiosity. Fully tattooed, straight black. Distinctive. No wonder he wears gloves all the time. It must’ve hurt, at least a little. Phoenix could never imagine doing something like that. He had his three tattoos and he was fine with them. No need for anything drastic.

He can’t help but wonder if they’d feel different than non-tattooed hands.

When he’s handed his cards, Phoenix immediately looks at them. Out of habit, he scrunches his brow and sets his lips in a thin line. If Strix thinks Phoenix will lose, then Phoenix will act like it.

A seven of hearts and a seven of spades. Phoenix can work with that. Lady Luck was almost always on his side, after all. The communal cards are played and, yes, they’re exactly what Phoenix needs. Two more sevens and a nine of clubs. There’s no way Strix can win this.

They show their cards, and Phoenix is grinning like mad. “I win,” he says, not quite bragging but not so humble either. What secret will he take first? The answer seems obvious.

“Show me your face?”

The river turns out of his favour and into Phoenix's. Strix could almost laugh.

He doesn't. He doesn't move. Just stares at the cards as if they may share another secret with him.

"Hm," he hums, slowly gathering the cards back into the deck. Once it's straightened, neatened, he sets it aside. "Fine. A deal is a deal."

Strix stands. He wanders away, unhurried. And he stops in front of the door before deadlocking it. Chaining it. Deadlocking it again. And barring it. Neither of them will be getting out easily--but nothing will get in.

And he returns, sitting before Phoenix. His ungloved hands reach to push his hood out of his way, then grasps at the clasp holding his mask in place.

Part of him considers killing Phoenix after this. Very, very, very few have seen his face. It's not a list that grows typically. And yet, he pulls it off, shaking fiery red hair out. Normally tucked up into his mask, it spills free, wavy flames licking down his shoulders and back. Striking blue eyes fix to Phoenix. There are decades old silvery scars along his pale face, intersecting with faded freckles.

"Satisfied?" He asks, his voice low and rich without the modulator.

#strix.exe #ashes and aces

a-phoenix-must-burn

Phoenix stares at the food that pushed over before deciding that maybe a little more won’t hurt. Just to pick at while they play. He’s not being greedy, he’s just…still hungry.

“Oh, y’know. The usual things. Secrets,” Phoenix says as he starts to move things to the side. He grabs his bag, opening a side compartment and grabbing a brand new deck of cards, which he immediately tosses to Strix.

Secrets are better than any form of currency for Phoenix. There are a million different things he could do with good ones, and that’s exactly why he doesn’t use them most of the time. Makes people nervous, which makes them sloppy.

Not that Phoenix intended to really ask anything all that wild. He really was just here to have fun, and learning about the man across from him was part of that.

It’ll be fun to watch him lose. It always is with someone as confident as him.

“Same goes for me, I guess. Only thing that’s off the table is bodily harm. Got enough of that going on. If you wanna deal us in, I’d say now’s the time.”

Strix hums a bit. With his gloves on, he won't be able to open this deck, let alone shuffle it. He may be able to service and reload a rifle with ease with them on, but paper and cards... not near as easy.

The velcro and buckles holding his gloves and gauntlets in place give easily; Strix slides them off, sets them aside, and reveals completely tattooed hands.

He'd had it done years ago. It makes him identifiable, so he keeps his hands covered. But he doesn't mind Phoenix seeing it, not really. He offers this freely, knowing that he'll take plenty from Phoenix tonight.

"Mm, I wouldn't harm you, little bird," Strix says as he pulls the deck from its box and lazily shuffles it. Practised, even, as if he's done this a million times. And he has; many, many of their high-paying clients play. They all challenge him for the same reason: ego. They all lose. "I suppose I will ask questions when I win."

He deals the hole cards, Phoenix first, then himself. He checks his cards with a frown that's hidden by his mask. A six of diamonds and a queen of diamonds. Not the worst. Not the best.

#strix.exe #ashes and aces

a-phoenix-must-burn

Phoenix raises a brow slightly, but doesn’t say anything about the amount of food. He hadn’t specified what he would have wanted, but then again, Strix hadn’t asked. Not that he minds. Phoenix is still dealing with the after affects of being starved when he was in captivity, so he’ll eat a decent bit.

“You’re confident for someone who’s gonna lose,” Phoenix says, grabbing a bag with Chinese food in it and taking out one of the containers. He opens it and smiles at the sight of the egg fried rice, pouring some of it onto his plate.

He reaches over and grabs the root beer out of his bag, showing it to Strix and setting it down. “I don’t drink most of the time. Thanks, though.”

It doesn’t take very long for Phoenix to finish his plate and get a bit more before deciding that he’s finished. He just hopes that Strix won’t comment on the way that he hunches over his plate protectively, a habit he hasn’t been able to kick yet.

“Guess we should talk stakes, hm? Anything you won’t do under any circumstances ever?”

It’s always good to know just how hard he can push certain things.

Strix chuckles, a strange sound through the modulator on his mask. He's confident because he doesn't lose. It's amusing that Phoenix believes he can break that streak; if the little bird wants to soar on wax wings, Strix won't stop him.

Besides, maybe watching the horror dawn on Phoenix's face as he loses will be worthwhile.

"You won't win, so I see no reason to place limitations on your earnings," Strix replies airily, almost bored. He doesn't just think he'll win: he's certain. "Should you best me, you may have whatever you'd like. Though I do find myself curious about what you're after."

He slides into the seat across from Phoenix, watching as he hovers over his food like a starved mutt. Defensive. Instincive. Pathetic. Charming. Strix makes no moves to take it, instead pushing more food closer to him.

#strix.exe #ashes and aces

[Closed RP for @a-phoenix-must-burn]

Strix's quarters are, as expected of a man of his position, spacious. Spacious, but empty; there are no trinkets, no decorations, no hints of who Strix is. Just a military-made bed, a table with no hints he ever eats, a bookcase of so many tomes that it's impossible to get a handle on what he reads, just.. empty. A void where a person should be.

Well... usually, anyways. Strix ordered takeout in anticipation of his guest. It sits on the counter of his kitchenette. Almost taunting.

When his door opens, Strix straightens; his head tilts, the light glinting off of the glass of his mask. Even in his own quarters, he struggles to remove it.

"Hello, little bird," he says, striding over to help the man in, eyes taking in the injuries. What a shame; Strix despises seeing wounded birds. "I trust my men didn't give you too much trouble."

a-phoenix-must-burn

It’s relatively easy to get back to the Actium base, much to Phoenix’s relief. Maneuvering around with just one crutch to lean on is a bit of a pain, but he makes do. None of the soldiers give him a hard time when they recognize him, and they practically trip over themselves to help him once he says that he’s meeting with Strix.

He pushes the door open, a little shocked at how big the space is, as well as how empty. He doesn’t comment on it, though. Just lets Strix help him in, setting his bag full of snacks down by the take out.

“They were fine. Real helpful once they finally remembered me,” Phoenix says vaguely as he looks around. “One even walked me down here. Nice kid.”

The casts both on Phoenix’s arm and leg are decorated with signatures and little drawings, but there’s still open space on either. There’s a pad of gauze peeking out from under his shirt, covering the crook of his neck.

“Are we eating or playing first? I have a few decks in my bag in case we need them.”

Good to hear his men have manners; if nothing else, they have that over the Shadow Company dogs.

Strix helps Phoenix to sit at the table. If his hand lingers a bit longer on the man's waist than necessary, it's just business.

"You eat," he says, moving to bring over the takeout and a plate. It's all sorts of food, sourced from quite a few restaurants--he didn't know what Phoenix would like and... may have gone overboard. It's fine, though; whatever Phoenix doesn't eat, he'll throw into the trough of his men. "I won't have you complaining you lost because of hunger. I need you at your best to beat you."

And it's true... sort of. He wants Phoenix to eat. He doesn't know why.

Strix pauses at the fridge. "I have spirits, if you'd like. I wouldn't recommend them--they'll hinder your abilities. But if you want to play hamstrung, I won't stop you."

#strix.exe #ashes and aces

Eryx slipped into the office after a firm knock, placed a stack of filled out paperwork, a list of needed inventory, a mission request for a 2 month long op in good old mother Russia, and a request for 3 dozens of the soldiers, onto the table, before he took a stand at his usual spot where he waits for either an order or he's dismissed.

@lt-malum

Strix looks up from his work, watching as Eryx brings him more papers, more work, always more. At least it's filled out.

He looks it over. Two months. Russia--ah, he knows the client, then--and three dozen soldiers. Quite a few. More than they usually spare; Actium isn't large. They're elite. Five of their soldiers is twenty of any other outfit. So three dozen...

But he sees the mission. Sees the price tag. And he hums.

"Approved, Malum," he says as he puts the paperwork aside. "Try not to lose anyone to 'frostbite' this time."

"i try my best, but can't promise that mother russia doesn't plan something else for us. oh and i take the little mouse with me. that shadow commander bloke had lend us him, said something the line of: "showing some good will" or some bullshit like that.", eryx snarled and huffed.

"as if we need some good will of that bloke anyways--" his eyes fell back onto the table and all the paperwork on it.

"go and take a break; i'll finish the paperwork."

Strix's lip curls under the mask. Their firing orders on Shadow Company may be over, but that doesn't mean Strix likes them. Quite the opposite. He despises those government-leashed dogs.

But dogs have their use, and it would be foolish to ignore that.

Strix sighs. "Do what you must. Try not to get him killed. He's the only one with sense in that clownshow."

"sounds almost like i would leave him there deliberately. don't worry, i won't get him killed... for now. if he behaves. if not---"

he shrugged his shoulders.

"i might loose his corpse in the heavy snowfall."

"Then I'll lose your corpse," Strix says boredly. "Behaves or not, you're not to kill him."

It's not an empty threat, either. Strix will kill Malum. Malum, while being a bit of a weak spot for him, is also too loose a cannon not to have contingencies for. When Strix hired him, it was with the full knowledge he'd likely have to put him down one day.

When that day comes is up to Malum.

#strix.exe #malum ipsum

[Closed RP for @a-phoenix-must-burn]

Strix's quarters are, as expected of a man of his position, spacious. Spacious, but empty; there are no trinkets, no decorations, no hints of who Strix is. Just a military-made bed, a table with no hints he ever eats, a bookcase of so many tomes that it's impossible to get a handle on what he reads, just.. empty. A void where a person should be.

Well... usually, anyways. Strix ordered takeout in anticipation of his guest. It sits on the counter of his kitchenette. Almost taunting.

When his door opens, Strix straightens; his head tilts, the light glinting off of the glass of his mask. Even in his own quarters, he struggles to remove it.

"Hello, little bird," he says, striding over to help the man in, eyes taking in the injuries. What a shame; Strix despises seeing wounded birds. "I trust my men didn't give you too much trouble."

#strix.exe #ashes and aces #heh

Eryx slipped into the office after a firm knock, placed a stack of filled out paperwork, a list of needed inventory, a mission request for a 2 month long op in good old mother Russia, and a request for 3 dozens of the soldiers, onto the table, before he took a stand at his usual spot where he waits for either an order or he's dismissed.

@lt-malum

Strix looks up from his work, watching as Eryx brings him more papers, more work, always more. At least it's filled out.

He looks it over. Two months. Russia--ah, he knows the client, then--and three dozen soldiers. Quite a few. More than they usually spare; Actium isn't large. They're elite. Five of their soldiers is twenty of any other outfit. So three dozen...

But he sees the mission. Sees the price tag. And he hums.

"Approved, Malum," he says as he puts the paperwork aside. "Try not to lose anyone to 'frostbite' this time."

"i try my best, but can't promise that mother russia doesn't plan something else for us. oh and i take the little mouse with me. that shadow commander bloke had lend us him, said something the line of: "showing some good will" or some bullshit like that.", eryx snarled and huffed.

"as if we need some good will of that bloke anyways--" his eyes fell back onto the table and all the paperwork on it.

"go and take a break; i'll finish the paperwork."

Strix's lip curls under the mask. Their firing orders on Shadow Company may be over, but that doesn't mean Strix likes them. Quite the opposite. He despises those government-leashed dogs.

But dogs have their use, and it would be foolish to ignore that.

Strix sighs. "Do what you must. Try not to get him killed. He's the only one with sense in that clownshow."

#strix.exe #malum ipsum

You play poker, Strix?

A fair amount, yes. My men don't play with me, but I regularly do with clients. Why do you ask?

a-phoenix-must-burn

Wanna play? Winner gets…something or other.

I’m very bored right now.

I don't play without clear stakes. Name your terms and I'll deal.

Come to my quarters. We won't be bothered there.

a-phoenix-must-burn

Guess I’m proving the “house always wins” thing wrong tonight.

I’ll grab snacks on my way.

Ha. I like your confidence. I'll enjoy wresting it from you.

See you soon.

#strix.exe #ashes and aces

You play poker, Strix?

A fair amount, yes. My men don't play with me, but I regularly do with clients. Why do you ask?

a-phoenix-must-burn

Wanna play? Winner gets…something or other.

I’m very bored right now.

I don't play without clear stakes. Name your terms and I'll deal.

Come to my quarters. We won't be bothered there.

#strix.exe #ashes and aces #(aka he has a broken arm and leg and can’t do anything fun)#<- heheheheheheheheheheheheheeheheheheheheheh

Eryx slipped into the office after a firm knock, placed a stack of filled out paperwork, a list of needed inventory, a mission request for a 2 month long op in good old mother Russia, and a request for 3 dozens of the soldiers, onto the table, before he took a stand at his usual spot where he waits for either an order or he's dismissed.

@lt-malum

Strix looks up from his work, watching as Eryx brings him more papers, more work, always more. At least it's filled out.

He looks it over. Two months. Russia--ah, he knows the client, then--and three dozen soldiers. Quite a few. More than they usually spare; Actium isn't large. They're elite. Five of their soldiers is twenty of any other outfit. So three dozen...

But he sees the mission. Sees the price tag. And he hums.

"Approved, Malum," he says as he puts the paperwork aside. "Try not to lose anyone to 'frostbite' this time."

#strix.exe #malum ipsum #sighs i've ignored strix too long

You play poker, Strix?

A fair amount, yes. My men don't play with me, but I regularly do with clients. Why do you ask?

#strix.exe #ashes and aces #heh

a short know was on the door, before eryx walked inside the office; placed a clipboard of docutments and a pile of hand written papers on top of it.

"the report from my last mission."

@lt-malum

Strix looks up from his desk, ball-point pen dangling from his fingers. Malum's reflection stares back from the goggles over his mask.

"Thank you," Strix says, almost bored, before taking the clipboard. He rifles through the pages for a moment before he sets it aside. "Good work."

He just nodded and watched strix for a moment.

"When was your last break?, eryx asked and prepared his commander something to drink; debating if the other man had something to eat already and if he should get him something.

Strix hums. "Don't know. Been buried in paperwork," he says blandly as he signs something and sets it aside. He immediately grabs another set, flipping through it. It's clear, at least, that he's been at it a while.

eryx placed the glass back on strix' desk and leaned a bit against the woodwork.

"need a hand?"

Strix's head tilts up, staring at Eryx for a moment before he thuds a large stack of papers in front of him. "As long as you're offering," he says, but Eryx has known him long enough to know--he's got that small smile on his face under the mask.

he grabbed a pen and the stack of papers, before he planted his ass on the couch in the office, taking a quick glance over the document and wanted to sign it, before he saw somnething.

"since when do your pawns wanna have costumes? someone really asked for.... these giant inflateable dino costumes "

Strix's pen hesitates for a moment.

"Approve it," he says after a brief silence. His pen scratches along paperwork. "They don't ask for much. I can allow... some... strange uses of funds."

a low chuckle rumbled through his chest, before eryx put his signature onto the document.

"if you say so boss~ what could possibly go wrong with this right?", he said and leaned his head into his neck, looking over to strix.

"if you allow this, you surely don't mind if i use some funds to pay some stippers on the weekend.", eryx then added and gave his commander a cocky wink, before he ordered some food for them and went back to sign the paperwork.

Even through the mask, the frosty glare Strix gives Malum could melt steel.

"Pay for your whores on your own dime," he replies airily. "I pay you well enough to afford the good ones. Lord knows you won't get your dick wet elsewise."

#strix.exe #malum ipsum

a short know was on the door, before eryx walked inside the office; placed a clipboard of docutments and a pile of hand written papers on top of it.

"the report from my last mission."

@lt-malum

Strix looks up from his desk, ball-point pen dangling from his fingers. Malum's reflection stares back from the goggles over his mask.

"Thank you," Strix says, almost bored, before taking the clipboard. He rifles through the pages for a moment before he sets it aside. "Good work."

He just nodded and watched strix for a moment.

"When was your last break?, eryx asked and prepared his commander something to drink; debating if the other man had something to eat already and if he should get him something.

Strix hums. "Don't know. Been buried in paperwork," he says blandly as he signs something and sets it aside. He immediately grabs another set, flipping through it. It's clear, at least, that he's been at it a while.

eryx placed the glass back on strix' desk and leaned a bit against the woodwork.

"need a hand?"

Strix's head tilts up, staring at Eryx for a moment before he thuds a large stack of papers in front of him. "As long as you're offering," he says, but Eryx has known him long enough to know--he's got that small smile on his face under the mask.

he grabbed a pen and the stack of papers, before he planted his ass on the couch in the office, taking a quick glance over the document and wanted to sign it, before he saw somnething.

"since when do your pawns wanna have costumes? someone really asked for.... these giant inflateable dino costumes "

Strix's pen hesitates for a moment.

"Approve it," he says after a brief silence. His pen scratches along paperwork. "They don't ask for much. I can allow... some... strange uses of funds."

#strix.exe #malum ipsum #eryx would be so confused ngl #<- strix is too but he's like. ok. sure. can't see how this could go wrong.

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