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18+ crossover and oc-friendly RP blog for Samus Aran, space warrior.
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@entrusted-hatchling
Rules | Timeline | Verses | Bio
18+ crossover and oc-friendly RP blog for Samus Aran, space warrior.
follows from @soul-sparx
(( oh hey, just so everyone here knows, i'm chainging my name to Dorothy!! feel free also to call me Dot, Dottie, or whatever other diminutives come from Dorothy! ))
(( i know i keep saying it but im sorry for being gone so much. i will make a concerted effort starting this weekend to rp on tumblr more ))
Canon RPers, please reblog this post if you’re okay with interacting with other RPers who aren’t necessarily familiar with your canon!
Grunt's behavior was almost akin to a child seeking validation after doing something incredibly stupid. According to the file compiled on the tank bred Krogan, Grunt was physically a fully mature Krogan, an adult in the eyes of Clan Urdnot, after completing the rite of passage. Mentally, he was still a child.
"Yeah, there was a damn good reason for it. They were trying to stall an invasion from beyond known space." Grunt wanted to share more but also remembered from talks with Shepard that not many believed the Reapers existed.
Shepard blowing up the Mass Relay had officially been branded as an act of terrorism rather than an attempt to stave off the impending invasion and buy time for the Galaxy to prepare.
He wasn't nearly drunk enough to let that kind of information slip, nor chalk it up to a drunken stupor. "I've only been out of the tank for a few months, but I've seen plenty of action on the front lines, fighting gangsters, the Geth, the Collectors, I've learned much under my Battlemaster." He downs more ryncol, making less of a mess this time, but some still manages to trickle down his chin.
"You look like you've seen your share of battles too. I am interested to hear your stories, human."
Samus snorted. 'Human'. She hadn't been one of those for a long time, not fully. Even before she became the last Metroid, even if she'd never been infused with Gray Voice and Raven Beak's DNA, she was still barely human. She'd spent much of her life as a weapon, a thing to be pointed. Even now, she had trouble thinking of herself as more than that. That's all she was. A weapon that could think for itself.
"What's to tell?" She sipped the last of her drink. She wasn't exactly ready to spill her guts to a stranger either, "Just your average, run-of-the-mill bounty hunter. Former Federation, but that's about it."
She took note of his verbage. Months. Not many people still used months, in her experience. Just confirmed her suspicion that he wasn't Federation. His talk of battlemasters and front line combat made her think he wasn't some no-name criminal or bounty hunter, either.
Must've been with that other galactic government the Federation was in talks with. Citadel, Samus remembered. Didn't know if that was the name of the government or just their capitol, but it seemed important.
"So what's a fierce warrior like you doing in a shithole like this? Sounds like you and your friends at the table have got it pretty good. I'm sure you can afford a better scene than this."
🐝 * ― 𝑺𝑯𝑰𝑷𝑷𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑺𝑯𝑬𝑬𝑻.
send 🚢 or ( 'SHIP' ) if you ever considered shipping our characters romantically and want me to fill out the following form for our muses. bold all that definitely applies, italicize what could potentially apply. feel free to add more if you think certain options are missing or you just want to add more.
do i ship our characters together?: yes | no | not yet but maybe soon
would i like to ship with you?: yes | maybe, i'm willing to try | no
type of relationship i could see: childhood or high school sweethearts | exes | engaged | married | long-term relationship | crushes | unrequited love | fling | long distance | online relationship | just dating | new relationship | toxic lovers | friends with benefits
tropes i'd enjoy writing for them: friends to lovers | enemies to lovers | exes to lovers | fake relationship / dating | forbidden love | grumpy and sunshine | star-crossed lovers | surprise pregnancy | second chance | soulmates | amnesia / mistaken identity | forced proximity | secret relationship | slow burn relationship
would i rather plot first or jump right in and see where it goes?: develop their relationship first | jump right in | something in between ( what specifically? )
what now?: let's plot something | send me shippy memes | i'll send you shippy memes | write me a random starter | i'll write you a random starter
anything else i want you to know about me / my character / my shipping habits: ( put whatever you want here )
Darling Mario.
@red-man-of-mustache
What's one thing you've been dying to ask the mun?
He hadn't clued in that his attempt at conversation may have been taken as flirting. Grunt never really thought about these things, his mind was only ever occupied with battle and causing trouble. Still, his eyes widened in astonishment when the human female downed almost the entire drink in one sitting. Again... just like his Battlemaster
Still, now the Krogan tank-born felt the need to show off, popping the lid on the entire bottle of ryncol and trying to see how much of the bottle he could down in one gulp... most of it wound up on his armor. Despite the mess he'd just made of himself, Grunt still attempted what could only be perceived as a proud smirk, followed by a slow low chuckle.
"I heard you talking to the barkeep, almost thought you were my Battlemaster. But you're not, they're currently on Earth in Lockdown. Bunch'a human pyjacks pissing themselves just because Shepard blew up a Mass Relay."
Samus watched the huge man pour booze down his own armor in disbelief.
Then she snorted. It just kind of happened, she had no control over it, yet she couldn't deny that what she just saw was funny. The proud look on his face doing wonders to sell it. Maybe she had the wrong impression here. The rowdy entrance and pickup line had colored her expectations, but maybe this guy was just a big goofball. She could respect that, anyone who still had a sense of humor in this galaxy had a stronger will than she did.
"Ah, I know how that is." She said, hiding the remains of a smile behind her drink.
"A Relay, huh?" She'd heard of them, similar to Chozo Teleportals but on a grander scale. Supposedly the Federation were in talks with another galactic government to share technology and resources. It would probably only be a matter of time before the Federation started vying for more power over the others...that, or start supplying them with bioweapons. Either way, Samus was keeping her ear to the ground, "Sounds tough. Destroying something like that usually has a reason behind it, huh?"
(( posting for posterity because im a trans woman on tumblr. theres a small but very real chance my blog will be unjustly terminated next. ))
(( i;'m not on hiatus i just got a new stick and have been having a lot of fun learning how to play street fighter 6 with a completely new control set ))
"Purple Samus? I've seen-a some of your other suits but what's-a the occassion?"
@entrusted-hatchling The Call
"Had a bounty call on Vhozon. Can't deal with temperatures like that without my Gravity Suit anymore." Samus sighed, settling into her seat, "Damn frozen wasteland..."
Flirt with my muse and see how they respond.
You came across all sorts when traveling the galaxy, places like the Citadel or Omega Station attracted beings of all stripes. Humans, Asari, Turians, Salarians. Omega station however always got the more interesting characters. People with dark pasts or dark intentions, people who didn't want to be caught. Omega was a far cry from the clean and polished gem that was the Citadel.
Urdnot Grunt preferred places like this, he and his squad could get a drink, and if they were lucky, a fight. Battle was baked into a Krogan's DNA, fighting was one of the things their race was known for, and for good reason, all one had to do was look up how the Krogan saved the sorry asses of the Turians and Salarians during the Rachni wars. Grunt blinked when he heard a woman's voice, human, coming from the bar, it sounded almost familiar, almost had him believing his Battle Master was on Omega. But when he looked, he saw golden blonde hair rather than fiery red, the person was much taller than Shepard too, the outfit resembled alliance armor but... different, way more colorful.
Grunt lumbered over to the bar, his squad staying at their table, two of them getting in a very intense arm-wrestling match. "Hey pyjack! I need a ryncol!"
The Battarian behind the counter just rolled their many eyes, letting out a barely audible 'fucking Krogans...' before putting the bottle on the counter in front of Grunt, and sliding another drink towards the blonde woman. "And my squad, can't leave 'em dry." Grunt growled with a low chuckle, the Battarian groaning once more and grabbing another bottle before heading over to the table populated by rowdy Krogan.
"So... come here often?" Grunt asked, baby blues looking at the strange soldier woman.
Great...one of those types. Samus was no stranger to random bar patrons trying to flirt with her. Apparently she was very attractive. She didn't get it, but sometimes she was interested. This was not one of those times. She was just coming off of a mission, there was no galaxy-endangering threat, there were no Fed bounty hunters on her ass, and right now she just wanted to have a drink in peace.
"...Just passing through." She said in monotone, before taking a long swig. A long swig. Nearly two thirds of the cup gone in just a moment. Nothing hit quite like Devonian mead. A little sweet for her usual palette, but it was hard as steel. When she was finally done, she slammed the drink down, not caring how much foam she spilled.
(( <- she is learning that it's very hard to write a chronic alchoholic when the most you know about booze is "apple cider yummy :)" ))
Samus Aran
Was once human but has since become something different that surpasses the limits of humanity
Can absorb the energy from living beings to nourish herself
Has fangs
Is allergic to garlic
Conclusion: Samus Aran is a vampire.
This wasn't a shitty enough bar for that kind of behavior to be acceptable. Maybe further down south, sure, but this was Center City, god's sake. Ms. Marguerite appraised the one-eyed stranger with a quick up and down, and though her expression remained unchanged, she immediately assigned 'em a dusty IPA, to be delivered eventually. Hadn't even bothered to convert to local currency, so it wasn't like she needed to worry about her becoming a regular. Probably only had 200 on her in the first place, so the tip was out of the question.
Unfortunately, Ms. Riley Cross had long since vacated Strangelove's; as a rule, she rotated bars about monthly to herself avoid becoming too known. Ten visits in a month, or thereabouts -- not quite enough to become a notable face, given a four month cooldown in between. Of course, some bartenders drifted from bar to bar, which could be annoying, but they were exceptions to the rule, and broadly the system worked for avoiding notoriety. Couldn't imagine there were many gay-sex-cruising, sober, accountants who paid per-drink and tipped more than reasonably haunting Philadelphia. Indeed at the same moment that Marguerite finally popped open the cap on the last Victory Dirtwolf IPA, Riley was about twelve blocks southwest, 21st and South, finishing an evening of exchanging pleasantries at a pop-up flower bar. Blissfully unaware of the criminal seeking her head, she giggled at something her prey said, finished her orange juice.
Samus threw it back like it was water. It wasn't a particularly good drink, but it wasn't like she was paying top dollar for it. Besides, that wasn't really the point here. She could tell she'd committed some social faux pas. Clearly this wasn't the kind of seedy underground dive she'd gotten used to, even as near as this system's asteroid belt (where she, of course, stopped for a drink before arriving on this planet). Even so, it wouldn't hurt to try an old trick.
"So," She slid two hundred-seg bills forward, accompanied by a benny and a photo, "How's business around here? Do you get any interesting customers?"
Back at the ship, Adam had begun his own mission. Based on his research, local law enforcement seemed just as, if not more, happy to constantly surveil those they were supposedly there to protect as the wider Galactic Federation. Earthen surveillance systems were far less advanced, however-- a blessing and a curse, for this mission. They would be far easier to gain access to, but the lower resolution would be an issue for his image recognition capabilities. Something to work out while Samus out, surely making productive use of their undoubtedly limited time.