[gcdlight]

# GCDLIGHT independent rp blog for an original goddess character, Skolkulv. original lore & pantheon. private, selective & mutuals only. loved by doe ( she/her , 20+ , GMT )

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carrd. aesth sideblog. playlist. pinterest.

hunting with @rottine , @lykourgus , @hamartaneiin , @skrimslis , @corlacus

[gcdlight]

sarah and her inability to decipher prophecy

[restoremyssoul]

they say if my dreams come up empty and i wash up on the shore, you would find me at the beach in every life, through every door

[gcdlight]

trying to design timefall gear for a dog I hate it here (I did this to myself)

[gcdlight]

happy prideeeee 🗣️ this is a blog with two bis

[inatcats]

Mountain Lion (Puma concolor)

Observed by jstivelman, CC BY-NC

[gcdlight]

death stranding verse // running against the tide

In years gone by, Sarah Harper, an ex combat medic, acted as a Porter to provide for her young family following the Death Stranding. Her DOOMs and athleticism made the navigation easy, she took pride in her work despite the circumstances. Still, it didn’t come easy, tormented not only by the nightmares that came with her condition, but a man from her past. Convinced he would act on threats towards her family, she left her Knot in pursuit of the man haunting her, hunting him down and killing him in the wastes. Carrying his body to the tar pits was the longest task, hauling over earth to dump him before he necrotised, and in taking a life she had inadvertently saved her own. In her absence a Voidout claimed her Knot, and with it the lives of her husband and daughter. All there was to return to was a crater. The rest became a blur.

Now known as the Scavenger, she roams the continent avoiding connection at all cost. She steals from Porters and others alike, taking great joy in tormenting the MULES, or going toe to toe with Demens if it means securing something better. Her gear is an amalgamation of various factions that she gathers during her attacks. No shelter, no Knots, just her and an attack dog at her side. Rye, a malinois mix, bares a set of chiral-titanium alloy canines and a custom timefall suit to protect him from downpours that was bartered with from the Cosplayer. She can be traded with, she has her means excessive violence of getting her hands on various items, if she doesn’t meet you with aggression first.

[gcdlight]

@maskend said… "listen, lady…" v stuffs the rest of their half eaten synth-bagel back into its bag, then into a pocket, and turns around. they have to look up at her, cybernetic eyes blinking purely out of habit. "i‘m kinda on a timer here... you gonna help me or not?"

Iridescent fingers pulled down her face with a prolonged groan of exasperation, it was too early for this or was it late? The sun was up and aching her eyes when she had swung her front door open to the incessant knocking. Last night’s alcohol was a taste still lingering on her tongue, the thought of some cheap shot screamsheet reporter clawing at her door for a story was nearly enough to turn her stomach before the hangover did. Claws dug to the wood out of sight, neck craning down to squint at the stranger, V’s words meeting her like a bundle of static. How the hell did they even get here? More so, what the fuck happened to them? They looked like they had just crawled out of the morgue, she’d certainly seen better corpses than what stood before her- was that a bagel?

“Wh-?” Her brain still hadn’t fully caught up, but she was aware enough to catch a glimpse of Arasaka logos further down the street. A chrome hand curled into V’s shirt, wrenching them forward. “Fuck it, get in.”

The door slammed and locked in her wake, pacing once then twice in a small circle to wake herself up. Pulling her dressing gown tighter across herself, the woman scowled slightly, a finger tipped with a claw outstretched to her new guest.

“If you even try to pocket one thing in this house or raise a hand to me I will kill you myself. Come.” Prowling down her hall to the kitchen, Seraph’s fingers traced back through her hair. Maybe she had taken a dodgy inhaler the night prior and this was all some freakish hallucination, gathering a glass of water and pivoting on her heel to be met by her home’s very real new occupant. Fuck. Settling the glass in front of them, she paused to pick up the bundle of white fur weaving between her legs. A cat, fur crisp and white, face sporting comically large blue eyes and a little pink nose dotted in the center. Pigeon, her dearest companion, outstretched in her arms before scampering up to curl around her neck as if he were an elegant fur scarf. Seraph was entirely unbothered, it was their routine, she missed the times his warmth wasn’t coiled around her, but the tenderness did little to stop the sharp bite of annoyance hinging on her voice.

“Tell me what the hell is going on and I might not go crying to those corpo fucks crawling the neighbourhood.”

[corlacus]

"That makes a fool out of me, then," he admits with a sheepish smile, hands warm enough now to itch at the nape of his neck. It must not be a pleasant dream to wake up to. The decor of his lab was not meant to be shared despite its contents. His footwork shuffles a bit at the constant sniffing, but he tries (and fails) not to make it too obvious how anxious it makes him. "I don't mind the blood that much. All the floors are padded with an easy-to-wipe material, but that should be the least of your worries. Speaking of..."

From a drawer, he pulls out a small first-aid kit. It's never seen use, or at least not in recent years. Heartman lays it on the recliner he'd earlier been pronounced dead in, inviting her to take a seat. "I'm no doctor, but I'm sure you could make better use of this than me. I would offer a treat for your friend's efforts too, but animals are quite the rarity in this area. Uhm, just a moment, I'll get you something that may help." He moves awkwardly toward the door, but turns his head at the last second. "Try to make yourself comfortable. I don't get many guests-" he offers, before disappearing into the hallway. The door automatically locks behind him, it can't really be helped, but it's only a short trip between there and the kitchen. He's sure she can manage on her own for a few short minutes.

He wouldn't lie and say he wasn't intimidated; she wasn't exactly easy to carry, and Heartman is more than aware of his lack of self-defense skills. Especially now, especially after her admonishment of his eagerness to help. Truth be told, it didn't matter to him. She could've been a MULE, or Homo Demen, or something else entirely; after Sam's departure a week ago, he yearned for another human being to speak to, face to face. It could be a scolding, an argument, a flirt, anything. He never realized how much he missed company until Sam's shortly graced him. He's grateful that Die-Hardman mustn't be watching right now, as he reenters the lab with a tray full of packets of biscuits and warm tea.

"Harper, was it? I'm glad to make your acquaintance. And I assume this is Rye?" The lab was never meant to be a shared living space, but Heartman lacks any better place; he pushes aside some of his sketches on his table and sets the tray on it, bringing the cup to her. "It's not the most diverse selection in my cupboard. Like I said, I don't get many visitors, and I'm not around long enough to enjoy much. But do help yourself. You have quite the extensive injuries and I have a chiral printer available for use, should you ever need anything. You should stay awhile," keep me company, please, "and rest. On account of my... condition... my bedroom hardly sees any use, so you may freely use that too if you'd like."

[gcdlight]

Sarah remained where she had slumped, half coiled as if she were to pounce despite the sickly pallor of blood loss washing over pained features. Rye drew back to her side, pacing circles though not once baring his teeth toward their kind saviour. Good, the last thing she needed was an unnecessary death on her conscience, let alone trying to find the nearest tar pit. Silence, mismatched eyes tracing his movements from the chair to the door where he disappeared from view entirely. Only then did she let free a breath she was unaware she had been holding, bloodied fingers running through her dog’s fur before dragging herself over to Heartman’s recliner.

Peeling bloodied clothes from her skin, she made a half hearted effort to fold them as to not leave his pristine lab a total mess. Glancing to her pack, a tired smile tugged at scarred lips. Saliva soaking the handle; Rye must have turned his attentions to dragging that in through the snow after his attempts at pulling her a limb at a time. His teeth had only managed to puncture her forearm, though dark bruises had begun welling in the other spots he had latched onto. The formally occupied bodybag made for a makeshift sheet to lessen the extent of blood streaks over the poor man’s furniture, hunting through her own supplies as well as the first aid kit offered.

Her head jerked up at the door whirring open once more, now somewhat clean. The lesser wounds had been cleaned and wrapped with a combination of gear, using strips of torn up fabric soaked in water to try to clear back some of the grime. Dark streaks of semi dried blood were swirled over her skin, laced with scarring and tattoos. The whale skeleton cresting her spine was mostly obscured by her pale hair, but she made an effort to turn herself, needle and thread pinched in her fingers.

“Sorry for the indecency but uh- hard to clean these otherwise.” Maybe once upon a time she would have been bashful about being sprawled in her underwear, but it was the least of her worries currently. The needle bit through her skin, teeth gritted as she pieced together the hole tearing into her side. Rye, nose twitching his grey peppered muzzle, came bounding over at the scent of food, rudder-like tail sweeping back and forth.

“He won’t hurt you, I’m surprised he didn’t when you found me… Must like you- ahhh ow fuck.” A pitiful groan left her, tying off the last of the sutures and dragging an already bloodied alcohol pad across it. Another scar, but she was alive, hard to complain about that. Her palm pressed a gauze to it, glancing at the tea. Well… It wasn’t as if she was in a position to go anywhere. “Thank you. You’re very kind, Heartman, kinder than most. I can’t much pay you back beyond cleaning the mess I’ve made here.” A bed. How long had it been since she slept in one? “I don’t want to impose.”

[semiotextiana]

im so sexy and fun and fucking doomed

[gcdlight]

Playing cat and mouse had its risks, but oh so much more to gain when you lived by taking whatever you could lay a hand on. Porters were the easiest to steal from, few carried weapons to keep her at bay though the catch was rarely worth it. MULEs? Now they were fun. Non-lethal, taking what had already been taken- but the real thrill was going toe to toe with the Homo Demens on the rare occasion their paths intersected. And intersect they had, and this time Sarah had lost the game. No loot, some cargo lost, and a few bullets tearing through skin and flesh.

The run was a blur, adrenaline driving her across terrain and higher into the mountains in search of an empty shelter. Shelter she found, whether it was empty or not she couldn’t have cared less, sinking into the snow beneath the overhang and letting blackness wash over her. Then warmth. Then light- and a ceiling?

Now that the chill had ebbed from her bones, the pain set in with a nauseating start, staggering back across the padded floor. He could hardly blame her reaction, waking up in what felt like a nightmare; eerie carvings of BTs hanging overhead and a dead man lying in front of her. Bleeding out or not, like hell was she about to go out in a voidout. Rye was at her side, head pressed to her still gloved palm and whining as the man emerged from the bodybag. Hardly a guard dog now, the stranger had not a bite nor scratch on him- unlike her. Her shoulder, forearm, even her damn calf. He must have joined in the effort to drag her inside at the cost of a minor mauling.

“You pulled me in here? Thank you, I…” Heartman is not a name, she wanted to retort, but weariness drew her bite back. “Harper.” A half truth.

Porter? Was he blind? If not for the trail of blood that she had traced through the snow, but the amalgamation of timefall gear she wore. The yellow of the MULES, marked with flashes of black and gold taken from the Demens, and whatever else she could get her hands on. Shedding her gear like a second skin, mask slipping free which a shuddering wince. “Rye, niður.” A command entirely ignored in favour of sniffing around their host, silence broken by the soft pitter patter of her blood against padded flooring as she slowly sunk back to sit among her heap of clothing. “I’m no porter, you- ah, you shouldn’t make a habit of pulling strangers in from the cold. I’m staining your floor.”

@corlacus continued.

[gcdlight]

lab work is so silly wym they let me have free access to shit like MRSA, parasites, and lethal chemicals with zero supervision

[nostalgia-eh52]

[mcflymemes]

PROMPTS FOR SILENT ACTIONS THAT SAY A LOT *  i wrote these with the implication that the sender doesn't say a word before they perform the action. adjust as necessary, send 'reverse' for the reversal of the prompt

[ tug ] sender tugs receiver behind them during a tense moment

[ pull ] sender pulls receiver out of harm's way at the last second

[ tuck ] sender stares at receiver and quietly reaches up, tucking a fallen strand of hair behind receiver's ear

[ yank ] sender yanks receiver closer to them, ending up in semi-suggestive close proximity

[ steady ] sender grabs receiver's arm to steady them before they fall over

[ walk ] sender moves around receiver and walks closest to the street as they travel down the sidewalk, keeping receiver away from any potential danger in the roadway

[ untied ] sender drops to their knee and starts tying receiver's shoe for them

[ spoon ] sender lifts a spoon towards receiver's mouth, encouraging them to eat

[ trace ] sender traces receiver's lips with their thumb

[ pin ] sender pins receiver to a tucked-away spot in the shadows to avoid being caught

[ neck ] without a word, sender dips down to receiver's throat and kisses them soundly

[ handheld ] sender slips a hand behind their back and grabs receiver's fingers as they stand behind them

[ carry ] without asking, sender takes receiver's heavy bags from them and carries them

[ lock ] sender and receiver lock eyes across the room

[ drink ] sender brings receiver a drink and holds it to their lips, insisting they take a drink

[ reload ] sender reloads receiver's gun for them in the middle of a fight

[ shelter ] sender uses their body to shelter receiver from an explosion or attack

[ carry ] sender picks up receiver and carries them off the battlefield and into a safe spot before running back to the fight

[ toss ] from a secret hiding spot only receiver and sender can see as they avoid an enemy, sender silently gestures to receiver to toss them (their gun, something valuable, etc.)

[ stairs ] sender offers out a hand to help receiver ascend or descend a staircase

[ cover ] sender covers receiver's eyes so they don't witness something gruesome

[ fix ] sender comes up to receiver and fixes their collar and/or tie

[ shake ] to convince receiver not to do something, sender hastily shakes their head from a distance

[ watch ] from a distance, sender taps on their watch to show receiver they're running out of time

[ i'll go ] sender gently pushes receiver back, taking charge and insisting they will handle the dangerous task

[ reach ] through a locked gate, sender reaches for receiver's hand

[ ship ] as receiver's ship takes off from the planet, sender waves to them from the ground and watches them leave

[ protect ] after someone threatens receiver, sender rushes over and gets right in their face to protect them

[ punch ] after someone attacks receiver, sender rushes over and punches them in retaliation

[ nip ] sender playfully nips at receiver's neck

[ knuckles ] sender kisses receiver's knuckles in a polite gesture

[ squeeze ] sender gives receiver's butt a playful squeeze from behind

[ danger ] as an all-powerful receiver is about to lose control of their powers and cause massive damage, sender finds their eyes and tries to talk them down

[ goodbye ] without saying a word, sender approaches receiver and kisses them goodbye

[ wipe ] sender wipes a tear from receiver's face

[ location ] without saying anything and giving away the surprise, sender takes receiver to a secret spot

[ hold back ] sender has to hold back receiver from attacking someone

[ game ] sender lets receiver win a game they're playing

[ shower ] sender joins receiver in the shower they're taking

[hollowprompts]

` * 𝐈𝐍𝐉𝐔𝐑𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐃 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒 : a mix of dialogue and action prompts. sent "+ reverse" to reverse the roles.

𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄 :

➔ you're gonna be okay , just keep your eyes on me. ➔ don't move - you're going to make it worse. ➔ it's not that bad. ➔ you saved me once before , now it's my turn. ➔ you fucking idiot , you weren't supposed to take the hit for me. ➔ i told you not to do that! now look! ➔ you're lucky that i know basic first aid , or you'd be dead! ➔ stay with me, okay? stay awake. ➔ i'll be as gentle as i can be , i promise. ➔ you're bleeding - oh my god , you're bleeding. ➔ you told me it was a scratch , this is not a fucking scratch! ➔ there's so much blood. ➔ next time you want to play here , just don't. ➔ stop fighting me and let me help! ➔ you're banned from doing anything remotely dangerous. ➔ you could have died , what were you thinking? ➔ if you die on me , i'm going to be pissed off. ➔ you didn't have to be so reckless just to prove a fucking point. ➔ the wound will heal but you'll have a scar.

𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 :

[ carry ] sender carries receivers muse to safety after finding them injured. [ stitch ] sender stitches receivers wound. [ hand ] sender holds receivers hand during a painful procedure. [ wound ] sender cleans receivers wounds with gentle and shaky hands. [ panic ] sender panics while trying to stop receiver's bleeding. [ patch ] sender patches receiver up using makeshift materials (i.e. torn shirt). [ fire ] sender drags receiver out of a burning building. [ pressure ] sender puts deep pressure on receivers wound while yelling for help. [ mouth ] sender gives receiver mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. [ change ] sender helps receiver change out of bloodied clothes. [ wash ] sender helps wash dried blood off of receivers face. [ shower ] sender helps receiver shower after an injury. [ broken ] sender tries to stabilize receivers broken limb with rope and sticks.

[gcdlight]

the queen of the wilds (by the crazy talented minilev!)

mutuals can reblog

[gcdlight]

more people should stumble upon sarah in the woods. find her at an old disused temple. find her at an overgrown shrine. maybe she’s holed up in an isolated cabin that provides shelter on a long abandoned hiking route. find her.