MURDERER.

an echo of inflicted evil.

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hi

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i lay myself seductively across the dash

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wait what the fuck is up with formatting posts now why is this shit broken

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nine just murdered me i hate it HERE

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sunscathing

      silent  is  the  phoenix  as  assassin  speaks   ,   holding  back  the  quips  poised   &.   ready  ‘ pon  the  tip  of  silver  forged  tongue   ,   allowing  this  ball  of  liquid  chemical  rage  to  voice  his  frustrations  like  that  of  a  scared  cornered  animal.  it ‘ s  almost  ironic   ,   isn ‘ t  it   ?   for  mercury  to  be  going  through  nearly  the  same  thing  yang  did  back  at  beacon   :   the  fear  of  the  unknown  while  being  under  watch  for  ones  sins.  she  supernova  remembers  the  countless  hours  of  interrogation  at  the  hands  of  law  officials   ,   festival  organizers   ,   ozpin  when  he  was  still  around.  how  she  was  kept  locked  away  under  heavy  surveillance  until  things  were  figured  out.   &.   they  were.   but  not  in  the  way  she  had  hoped.  dare  sunny  dragon  say  she  feels  a  tinge  of  joy   ?   for  mercury  suddenly  atoning   &.   being  placed  in  the  same  shoes  yang  had  suffered  in  years  ago   ?   she  dares.   yang  doesn ‘ t  speak  up  just  yet   ,   but  brows  do  perk  in  response  to  his  plight   ,   scathing  eyes  glancing  in  his  general  direction  ever  so  slightly.  moment  of  thought   ,   a  scoff   ,   then  she  strikes.  

     ❝ let ‘s  get  one  thing  straight   , ❞  she  starts.   ❝ you  didn ‘ t  break  me.  not  you   ,   not  emerald   ,   ‘ an  sure  as  hell  not  cinder. ❞   no   ,   he  didn ‘ t  strike  a  chord   ,   but  he  did  manage  to  light  the  spark  of  an  undying  determination  within  ignited  soul.  back  stiffens   &.   she ‘ s  rising  to  her  feet   ,   brows  narrowed   &.   prosthetic  stretched  high.   if  mercury  looks  close   ,   he  can  see  how  eyes  slowly  shift  to  that  of  a  vibrant  red  sunset.   ❝ i  could ‘ a  let  this  ruin  me   &.   i  thought  it  would   ,   but  i  fought  like  hell  to  keep  it  from  happening.  i  had  the  choice  to  turn  things  around   &.   grow  from  it.   ‘ an  if  all  you ‘ re  gonna  do  is  sit  there   &.   mope   ,   nothing  is  ever  gonna  change.  we  all  get  .  a  choice.  even  you.❞   fool  ,   you  shouldn ‘ t  stare  into  these  eyes  of  fire.  girls  can  bite  back  just  like  the  wolves.  knuckles  curl   &.   she  exhales  a  breath  of  smog.   ❝  ‘ an  the  name ‘ s  yang.  not  blondie. ❞

           there’s a brief, blinding moment in which the best course of action is to grab the closest solid object he can reach and hurl it at yang’s head - see what it does and how much of a fight it gets him. maybe he can goad her into finishing him off here and now. save him the ordeal of trying to explain everything to someone who would never understand. no matter how much yang has convinced herself that she wants to know or that she completely understands where he’s coming from? no. she couldn’t ever understand. not really. not even as mercury bristles where he sits, jaw working as he listens to her talk. oh, but still. despite the pure rage that festers under his skin at everything that dare look in his direction. despite the way mercury just wants to be left alone to sort through everything in his own head before dealing with someone else? still - all the strength in the world couldn’t stop the way the corner of the wolf’s mouth quirks upward as yang tells him that they didn’t break her. “trust me. if we wanted ta break y’ then... let’s jus’ say that we wouldn’t be havin’ this conversation, yang.”

          still, there’s less bite to his voice. less anger behind his tone as mercury leans back and tilts his head, canting his chin in her direction absently. “an’ fer the record? i ain’t mopin’ - call it... uh, buyin’ my time. till one’ve you lets yer guard down and i get what i want,” he can call it whatever he wants, she can call it whatever she wants - it doesn’t change the fact that mercury is a cornered, wounded animal in here and he hates every second of feeling vulnerable. like hell is is about to give her the opportunity to take advantage of that. it’s not so much that he has anything against explaining it to her. hell, there’s a small part of the assassin that wants the phoenix to know why he is where he is and why she is where she is. it’s simple enough. “my choice? th’ one i took when i ended up stuck in whatever the hell it is you wanna call their vendetta?” a shrug, gaze shifting to instead watch his own hands where they sit in his lap. mercury black wasn’t proud of many things in his life. what was there to be proud of? his name as an assassin, a butcher, under cinder fall? no. there wasn’t much there. but he did have one thing. “either i went with cinder or i was killed off somewhere in the forest from bloodloss or some infection or maybe i’d even jus’... starve ta death out there? i dunno. don’t really think ‘bout it no more.”

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i’m a simple nev. i log in, harass zero and rb some stuff to merc’s sin blog and then i go to bed

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          mercury + boderline personality disorder (bpd)

          of the nine main signs/symptoms of bpd, mercury has displayed six - those being ‘unstable relationships’, ‘unclear or shifting self image’, ‘extreme emotional swings’, ‘chronic feelings of emptiness’, ‘explosive anger’ and ‘feeling suspicious or out of touch with reality’ - it’s important to note that he has never and likely will never reach out for counselling or therapy or ever be in a position to attempt to treat his bpd with medication or anything of the type - while it doesn’t stand as a way to excuse anything that mercury has done in canon or he does in interactions, it does work as a way to explain his thought process and behaviours when taken into account.           causes of bpd commonly follow a traumatic experience as a child. it goes without saying that mercury’s childhood was traumatic in more ways than one. along with the constant state of fear he was exposed to when it came to his father even being in the same room as him a lot of the time. his father was a constant stressor, a constant form of ‘discipline’ and a domineering figure who very quickly proved to be the only parental/mentor figure mercury had in the first 18 years of his life. it’s safe to say that he’s experienced his fair share of trauma as a child.             this means that the majority of mercury’s relationships are often either strained or non existent as well as his constantly shifting mental state/view of himself - he’s difficult to pin down and even more difficult to get to appreciate his own difficulties, let alone face up to them to someone else. he tends to have more mood swings than not and his temper can be highly explosive (especially considering that it’s usually his go to when dealing with something that upsets him) and while mercury may state that he is in complete control of his headspace and that it’s all just how he is - that’s not entirely true

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sunscathing

      still  as  irritating  as  ever   ,   what  a  fool  yang  was  to  think  mercury  black  would  be  any  different  despite  being  wounded.  teeth  grit   ,   annoyed  comes  the  roll  of  scathing  eyes   &.   the  sigh  from  lips.  as  much  as  girl  phoenix  wishes  to  lash  out   &.   snap  at  him  for  his  gods  awful  stubborn  nature   ,   she  refrains   ;   she   ,   too   ,   would  be  hesitant  to  talk  about  anything  with  someone  once  deemed  a  target  to  destroy.   an  enemy  embodying  the  very  definition  of  inferno.  slumps  back  against  the  wall   ,   head  tilts  up   &.   she  fixates  on  the  ceiling  for  but  a  moment  before  ultimately  shifting  attention  ‘ pon  whirlwind  once  more.  even  if  just  looking  at  him  makes  fire  grow  in  belly.  ❝ no   , ❞    she  answers.   ❝ i  just  think  it ‘ s  silly  to  babysit  you  without  knowin ‘  anything  outside  of  that  shitty  attitude  of  yours. ❞   a  lighthearted  jab   ,   yang  speaks  in  silver  forged  sarcasm   ,   a  sharp  language  she  knows  mercury  knows  all  too  well.  she ‘ s  trying  to  make  this  work   ,   give  her  a  break.

      ❝ i  remember  how  y  ‘  kept  me  on  my  toes  back  during  the  vytal  tournament.  i  don ‘ t  think  i  would ‘ ve  made  it  out  without  my  semblance. ❞    she  admits   &.   it  takes  all  of  her  pride  to  do  so.  consider  yourself  lucky   ,   assassin.   ❝ if  you  were  already  that  strong   ,   what  made  you  decide  to  tag  along  with  them   ? ❞  yang  pauses  for  a  moment.   it ‘ s  still  a  touchy  subject  for  her  to  think  about  without  anxiety  swelling   &.   engulfing  her  completely   ,   to  be  truthful.   the  trauma  will  never  truly  leave.   ❝ why  not  decide  your  own  path  instead  of  letting  someone  do  it  for  you   ? ❞

          "yeah i remember,” he wishes he didn’t remember exactly how that punch to the gut enforced with what he’d later find out was essentially his own attacks felt like but, then again mercury black also wishes he wasn’t sat where he is with the stale taste of blood on his tongue and eyes burning where he forces himself to level pale gaze at yang. it’s refreshing - though he won’t tell her that - to have someone talk back. he’s tired of these people walking around him like they stand on eggshells. it’s pathetic. his father would say it makes them weak. but not her. not yang xiao long standing bright and proud in front of him even as he aims a glare at her throat in a split second of abandonment. he could fight his way out. if he wasn’t useless without his prosthetics. and even if he didn’t make it? well, maybe he deserves the pain that would follow. “’fer the record, y’ weren’t meant ta win. even more of a negative affect if one’ve ozpin’s pets were a sore looser, right? ‘sides, i could’a taken y’ easy if it weren’t for that semblance.”

           he doesn’t laugh, though. not like he would have any other time. mercury doesn’t take the same joy he did in ruining yang’s image in front of everyone who’s opinion she might hold dear. what enjoyment is there to be taken of any of this when he’s the one stuck here and salem is out there? he doesn’t answer the question. not at first. not until yang brings the ‘decide your own path’ line into this. then? well, then mercury bristles. that image of a trapped, wounded animal prevalent as the assassin scowls. “we don’t all get a choice in what dumb fuckin’ path we choose, blondie. don’t... don’t try that line with me again,” tones are sharp, harsh and heavy as they linger in the stagnant air around them. so much for not answering her questions, huh? still, he doesn’t say anything beyond that - not yet. stubbornness kicks in further as the wolf all but bares his teeth in yang’s direction. “’s tha’ what y’ want? you want the sob story from the assassin trapped in a house full’ve kids?”

[epyrean]

          o yea i did this doodle of My Mercury uwu

[sunscathing]

      brimming  with  uncertainty   ,   a  fire  in  her  throat  yearning  to  be  released   &.   scorch  once  foe  to  the  ground  in  an  instant   ,   though  yang  refrains.  mercury  is  defenseless   ,   couldn ‘ t  attack  her  to  the  fullest  even  if  he  wanted   ,   not  without  a  blast  of  hot  metal  to  the  mouth  at  least.  he ‘ s  just  lucky  yang  inherited  her  father ‘ s  empathy  rather  than  her  mother ‘ s  lack  of  mercy.  phoenix  crosses  her  arms   ,   scathing  eyes  lower  along  with  head   &.   after  this  awkward  silence  between  them   ,   she  speaks.   ❝ …  why  cinder   ? ❞    she  finally  says.    ❝ what  did  they  offer  you  that  you  couldn ‘ t  get  on  your  own   ? ❞

@godtricks​    ,    semi  -  plotted  starter.

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          he wants out. mercury doesn’t know how long they’ve had him shut in this room or how many times they’ve offered him repairs and ‘failed’ to find the parts with everything else they have to get done. he doesn’t care anymore, really. as much as the paranoia tugs at his mind and pulls his body taut with every too-quick movement or every sound he can’t pinpoint within seconds of it hitting him? he doesn’t care. he’s not going back to them. if they haven’t found him by now? well, then they won’t even in a months time. maybe they really are dead. 

          pale gaze is pointedly fixed on the wall beside yang’s head, brows furrowed and expression sour even as she... asks him a question. it... sounds different to all the others he’s been asked in his time here. less pointed? less purpose? canine doesn’t care - doesn’t think to dwell on it too long before he’s laughing. something half hearted and empty in the small room they share. “am i supposed ta jus’ tell y’ ‘cus i ain’t got nothin’ better to do? or did y’ really think if you stared at me for long enough that i’d just sit here an’ spill my guts?” a pause, scarred hand lifting to muse his fringe absently. “nice try, blondie. but i ain’t some rookie at this whole thing.”

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what about. tiny small starter call that i will probably come to u to plot out a bit… maybe…

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ship with merc, maybe.

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what about. tiny small starter call that i will probably come to u to plot out a bit... maybe...

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          @volarent​​ ; ' this is a.d.a. ' fox said, gesturing briefly to his scroll, then the earpiece hidden away by shaggy crimson locks. ' she helps me fight, tells me about my opponent by doing a 3d scan of the stuff around me. ' he fiddles with the screen again, facing mercury properly although a.d.a. didn't need such an obvious point of reference. ' see. here, she can tell you're about 128? 130? pounds, 5'11', have no visible weapon and a /fantastic ass/ — ' ok, so that might not've been the app.

          mercury black is used to fighting at a disadvantage. he always has been. either he’s facing up against his father or he’s fighting people with an unfair advantage in destructive semblances and bottomless pools of aura. he’s used to fighting without the option of fully overpowering someone. he hadn’t stopped long enough to consider that maybe fox feels a similar way. that maybe he and fox were more similar in that fact that not. where mercury resorts to ruthlessness and aggression, rationing out his own energy in order to land blows where they’re most needed - fox took it upon himself to learn a different way around his... disadvantage. not a disability. much like how the lack of actual legs isn’t a disability to mercury. it’s more of a temporary disadvantage. people probably don’t know fox is blind until he’s up close. and by then? it’s always too late. speaking from experience. 

          head tilts as fox offers up this information. he’s not sure why he’s being told - but it’s not like canine is complaining as he takes a step closer, instinctively trying for a closer look at the ear piece before it’s pulled away and wolf’s attention shifts back to fox’s features. he forgets, sometimes, that anyone else would see vulpes as being at such an obvious disadvantage. then again, mercury thinks that anyone second guessing fox for something as trivial as not being able to see... well, then they just really underestimate the fighter. 

          if he was more into technology like this, mercury would be more interested in how it works. but currently? well, the assassin simply wants to understand how to beat it. he thinks that it might be his father’s influence on him. marcus was always obsessed with breaking everything down to it’s base pieces - tearing them apart and watching them try to recover. he knows that from experience. still, there’s a lopsided smirk as fox lists off this information, only further widening as the details continue beyond what the app is telling vulpes. a laugh, harsh and sharp - as is everything to do with the assassin - as he takes a step forward and presses himself in close. as he takes fox’s hand in his own and lays it flat against said fantastic ass. “oh yeah? y’ think so?” a pause, leaning in close - his breath ghosting over vulpes’ lips as he watches features with half lidded eyes. “she got anythin’ else ta say ‘bout me? or can we get goin’ somewhere more private? gotta say, all this talk ‘s gettin’ borin’ - y’ know.”

[godtricks]

idk man just kinda feeling like i can’t do mercury justice anymore even tho i miss him lmao

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          @sunscathe​ ; “  for once in your goddamn life, let me take care of you before you make it worse.  ”

          there’s an instinctive flinch away from dragoness as she reaches for the gash in assassin’s temple, hair stuck to skin as crimson paints his skin and colours pale complexion a muddy red tone the longer it sits there undisturbed. it’s nothing new, to be met face to face with the blood that should remain hidden away. most people have enough of a soul left to protect them, he supposes. have enough of their being still intact that scrapes and cuts are a rare occurrence. in mercury’s experience, anyway. those people are so... bright. so blinding that he can’t look at them for longer than a few moments, can’t be near them so long as he wants to maintain his stubborn lack of vulnerability. yang, though? she’s brighter than most. but in a different way. not quite burning like fire but just as bright, just as furious when she wants to be. when she lets herself be. mercury thinks that maybe the two are more similar than he initially allowed himself to think. 

          not that that matters anymore. not as mercury black allows yang to push him back down to sit atop the desk, as he allows her to brush silvery hair out of the way and inspect the still  oozing cut. hands are tight as fists at his sides, arms trembling as he forces himself to stay put. he should snap back, should tell her he’s fine because he’s always fine. but mercury doesn’t do any of those things as his tail curls ‘round himself and he stares into nothing - refusing to make eye contact or allow himself to look yang in the eye. why? he doesn’t know. isn’t sure anymore. part of him doesn’t want to face up to the fact that he thinks he trusts her enough to be near now, doesn’t want to think about the fact that mercury wants to lean into heated hands and warm skin as it brushes ‘gainst his own cold features. he doesn’t fight as yang tucks hair behind his ear, or as she brings a cloth up to clean dried blood from his visage. doesn’t fight it as he feels his own chest swell with... something. 

          “y’ don’t--” fuck. voice cracks and shakes and canine flinches at his own inability to maintain that solid disinterest in letting himself get close to something - someone. “y’ don’t... have ta help - y’ know--”