ᴀᴠᴀᴛᴀʀ ᴏғ ᴠɪᴛᴀʟɪᴛʏ.

the loneliest moment in someones life is when they are watching their whole world fall apart, and all they can do is stare blankly.

[darkchanneled-blog]

MORON.

   It would take more than a few millennia to exhaust how infuriating the Vanguard can be.   “ Excuse me?  ”  He’d roll up his sleeves if his armor had any.   “ I might not be an Adept, but that doesn’t mean I can’t do it. ”

    This isn’t something Jason taught him. But it’s something he probably would have. It would be as easy as asking Kazar for help, or any other trained biotic Adept in the Alliance. Mason doesn’t ask for help. The swirl of bluish glow surrounds his arm as he reaches out — and still, nothing. He thinks aloud, not meaning to admit defeat yet.  “ …. What am I doing wrong ? ”

      “ YOU ARE GOING to hurt yourself if you continue.” Or maybe he’ll pop the blood vessels in his eyes, Kazar muses. Though despite his disdain, he doesn’t laugh or claim victory when the Vanguard finally laments. Instead, he sounds much like a doting mentor when he speaks-- “ It is an incredibly powerful biotic move, and many are not capable of manifesting the sheer power and energy it requires. ”

[darkchanneled-blog]

NALMAYA.

    Nalmaya eyes his bondmate with a measure of suspicion when he catches the flighty energy lingering in the air. He wonders, briefly, if Kazar really is up to no good, but he will say nothing about it and address him as if he had never caught onto it at all.

        “ Occupied, but not unwell, though I missed you terribly. ” He leans back against the table where all his data has been strewn about, palms resting on its surface. When he speaks, there is a smile in his voice, “ And what of you, my love? You know that I worry. ”

    “ I AM WELL as I always am. ” Kazar steps closer, reaching out for length talons to curl around the jutting edges of Nalmaya’s hips, tugging the smaller Collector backward with ease and against his chest. The appendages normally clutched to his sides shift suddenly, grasping around the other man’s chest. 

A low chitter leaves him, more akin to a rumble as he nuzzles affectionately along Nalma’s slim neck. “ Good. If you were unwell, I would have to find what made you so, and destroy it. ”

[darkchanneled-blog]

JAVIK.

       “ Of course not. If you did, we would not be having this conversation. ” Javik folds his arms across his chest, cocking his head to the left just slightly. “ It does not matter to me as much as it matters to them. You could, at the very least, give the authorities less reason to bother you. ”

Though he would admit to himself that the smell was anything but pleasant. As tolerant as he may be of the scent of gore, it still would be nice to smell something a little less putrid once in a while.

   A HAND NONCHALANTLY brushes off his shoulder, flicking away a piece of... something. While he may have cared more about hygeine once, it’s hard to do so now without a sense of smell and constant blood getting stuck between the cracks of his plating. Besides--- Kazar has already gone fifty thousand years without a proper shower.

Instead of agreeing with Javik, though, he opts to complain with a grunt;        “ I cannot reach most places. I am not flexible. ”

[darkchanneled-blog]

     “ HMM. ” THE WARRIOR seems rather reserved, although there’s a certain air of mischievous playfulness that another Prothean would be able to pick up on with ease. “ How has my dearest been today? I’ve not seen you in a fortnight. You look well. ”

@enigmaticancient

[darkchanneled-blog]

JAVIK.

       “ You have — ” He squints. What is that? It’s too thick to be blood.

 Javik reaches out, brushing his finger against the mush and… Oh. He sighs. “ It is residue from the eye of a ravager. Why am I not surprised? ” An obvious rhetorical question. There was plenty of reason for him to not be surprised.

 Mock exasperation meets his expression and he reaches out, rubbing the mush back onto Kazar’s face, a hum more nearly akin to a trill rising behind his closed lips. “ You need to wash better. ”

“ AH. ” KAZAR’S EYES squint as fingers brush against his plating. Well, this would explain the looks he’s been getting. Collectors covered in gore and blood isn’t well appreciated in the eyes of the public. “ Do you think I really care about washing? ”

[darkchanneled-blog]

   “ DO I HAVE something on my face? ”

@shapedbywar

[darkchanneled-blog]

MORON.

    PRIMITIVE ? Forget the specifics, and how begrudgingly accurate the term might be in a literal sense. It strikes that familiar chord within, and he tries harder. Harder.

     Any harder and he might pop a blood vessel.    “ If I were a million god damn years old, I could do the weird shit you could do. Plenty of human adepts can use flare. ”  He won’t admit defeat and mention he isn’t an adept.

    “ AND IF YOU were a million years old, you wouldn’t be nearly as annoying. ” Or maybe he would be. It’s hard to tell, really. Kazar peers closer at him. “ You aren’t an adept. ” He would know; Mason never shuts up about being a vanguard. “ You’re one of the obstinate ones. ”

[darkchanneled-blog]

MORON.

     “ Of course I fucking am. ”   He isn’t entirely sure if he is. But he’s not about to let some glittery insect tell him what he can and can’t do. 

     There’s a few minutes of flexing, unnecessary grunting, teeth grinding. All he can muster is a lash tugging a book off of a shelf from behind Kazar to hit him in the head. “ I can do it. Just give me a second! ”

    KAZAR DOESN’T DODGE the book, and it clacks against his head and falls to the ground. Each eye on the right side of his head squints, blinking unevenly. Of course he’d do that.

With what sounds like a snort, the Collector turns away, the unimpressed atmosphere radiating off of him. He glances over his shoulder, and speaks in the most Prothean-y tone possible: “ I should have figured. The biotic skill of a primitive is always pathetically limited. ”

[lovetoomuchstuff]

Mass Effect 3 ➝ star clusters  [2/4]

[darkchanneled-blog]

   “ ARE YOU EVEN able to make a flare? ” As always, despite being somebody without a face, Kazar shoots Mason a disdainful and judgmental look. “ I doubt it. Show me. And the impact of a charge doesn’t count. ”

@dragooned 

[darkchanneled-blog]

ugly ass kett

    “Pitiful scum that can’t even hold their own homeworld against a single race. You deserved to lose it.”

[darkchanneled-blog]

willreignite.

“Alright then,” she replied simply, not going to push it any further. It was his choice and he knew himself better than she ever would.

“I could blast your head off but that might be considered as assisted suicide and you made it clear you don’t want that. All I can do is offer you some alcohol. Not the healthiest route but it sometimes helps, even if just for a moment.”

        “....If only I could rip my face plating off to gorge myself on it.”

[eccco]

Visit Original Link

please just listen to this

[darkchanneled-blog]

shapedbywar.

    “Of course, Kazar.    What kind of friend would I be if I did not defend you?”

“A bad one.” He surmises though he’s quick to scoff, the sound a contemptuous warble. “Unless you’d rather not be seen allying with a Collector.”

[darkchanneled-blog]

willreignite.

“A therapist? Come on. I’m rather someone who needs one instead. Just thought venting out might help you in one way or another. But apparently you’re not for it.”

    “Believe me, talking about it will not ease it.” Not when it feels like it all sits in his chest with the same weight of a black hole. Long ago he’s accepted that there are things that one does not find help for, let alone a method to make the pain go away. In time, the tolerance simply grows. 

      “No.” The response is a simple one, flat and deadpanned in contrast to the sarcasm earlier. “But thank you, regardless. If it would help, I would talk of it.”

[darkchanneled-blog]

shapedbywar.

@darkchanneled

    “You are the most honest person I know, lying is beneath you.”

    “Oh, yes. I’ve never told a lie. I am glad you agree.”

[darkchanneled-blog]

willreignite.

“Wouldn’t that be considered just being sarcastic instead? I know too well you are capable of that. That’s what I get for playing nice.”

“Doubtful acting the therapist to anyone with five hundred centuries of trauma and memories as a Reaper slave is realistic, Commander.” Dripping with sarcasm as his words may be, he pauses, adding almost delicately; “Not that I don’t appreciate the... thought.”