—石獅.

you are my wicked victory.

[goldcerts]

arknights multi muse ft. operators gavial, mudrock, alesh, and hung. as recruited by ovan. can be found at amberenigma, rockheadcd, and zephyricd.

adults only. minors will be blocked. ai rhymes with die. very selective / friends priority and likely low activity. // CARRD.

found these mfs in my blue bag. — @endfieldr @laevaforge @prlica @solaurous

[goldcerts]

having an absolute normal one rn god i love women

[parakeet]

if you go looking for doom and gloom all you will see is doom and gloom. if you go looking for reduced items at the grocery store you may find a littol treat

[goldcerts]

ok ok ok rec.onvener sparknotes so i also don't lose them:

𝗅𝗈𝗀𝗈𝗌 — dedicated elite op still. likely assigned to the north but very easily can be a liaison. elusive, mostly, as elite ops are apt to be. perfectly fine with the terran flavor's memories and experiences. considers the journey a continuation.

𝖿𝗅𝖺𝗆𝖾𝖻𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋 — a wandering swordsman, still searching for a good fight. he eats lb's for breakfast. on paper, still under rho.des, as he too popped out of the woods. doesn't really give a flying eff about much else besides throwing hands. willingly joins end.field as he's reminded of Someone, and surprisingly very good at growing plants, still. quick to anger. still kept that big ol horn on his head, but appears mostly normal compared to the original.

𝗆𝗎𝖽𝗋𝗈𝖼𝗄 — perhaps a little lonely in comparison to her original, even if the mud.rock squad wasn't necessarily her goal in life, she just wanted to make sure innocent people didn't get hurt. similar to snow.shine, she's taken to helping rescue others under end.field's name. to her, the land has a different "voice" compared to what she remembers.

𝗀𝖺𝗏𝗂𝖺𝗅 — bounces everywhere as a traveling medic, paying no real mind nor care to the whole 'body stuffed with someone's abilities and memories'. still turning heads with her rough and tough attitude and still rolling heads when someone needs a hand. often deployed for emergency operations on ta.los.

𝗁𝗎𝗇𝗀 — me and fae might be cookin up somethin here bc the crew makes it a point that a.ak is genuinely just that good at his line of work that even hu.ng's crazy odd jobs list hasn't gotten him infected. but i want to throw him on ta.los so bad.........

[threedollarsdotcom]

hey its me your doctor. idgaf

[laevaforge]

// i was asked to post it and release it into the world. @goldcerts @solaurous :)

[goldcerts]

ok so i may have given myself a sinus infection from mouth breathing dry ass air earlier this week and i keep getting ragebaited by perlers but tomorrow afternoon is gonna be a big fish 24 window of chaos but like im rotating my little guys and gals i swear—

[goldcerts]

i have no excuse for this week except for head empty

[glavilio]

*describing some learned fellow i'm acquainted with* he's very articulate *remembers when he crossed me* i mean verbose

[oleskyfm]

(voice of someone about to turn 30) it’s nice making friends. It’s nice to play together and have fun. It’s nice to hang out

[goldcerts]

ok so i may have given myself a sinus infection from mouth breathing dry ass air earlier this week and i keep getting ragebaited by perlers but tomorrow afternoon is gonna be a big fish 24 window of chaos but like im rotating my little guys and gals i swear—

[goldcerts]

cue a little wolf falling asleep against alesh shoulder, his lashes throwing shades across his cheeks in the setting sun. a soft sigh falling from his parted lips ; fangs shimmering in the flames of the campfire before them. they ate recently --- catello had made a simple vegetable stew with what they could find around them. just simple & sweet time spend together in nature. it was somewhat . . healing. his guard easing around the fisher greatly to a point where he allowed himself to fall asleep. feeling safe.

The frontier was Catello's home—and it was Alesh's playground. They both knew these lands intimately, much like messengers and travelers alike. While IV was not his immediate home, his operator suties lead him in every direction at the beck and call of Endfield, and he'd find himself staring from the view from Dijiang, seeing if he can trace his steps between the clouds. His day job was his life, typically uneventful ( thankfully, he's still tired from his youth, as much as it's behind him, he tells himself ), fins often in the same orientation lest some vagabond believed they could stir up the weeds around his city, his turf. There were also the angling classes, a nice change of pace, and a fulfillment that his survival skills were worth learning from that old fart of a teacher. Shit, he's becoming just like the guy every day...

..but, then there's the excursions, where even Alesh remembers he's a liaison with the UWST once in awhile, sent out with other frontier experts in covert operations.

He's starting to think the staff are doing this on purpose, putting him and Wulfgard in the same area code. The thought brings a huff, bemused, as he sips at the lovely stew cared for by the lupo in question, who was idly conversing up until some minutes ago.

Really, the man is hardly as difficult to spend time with as he made himself out to be.

( although, when one grows up as a gun, or a knife, or what-have-you... it's easy to believe that's all you needed to be, isn't that right? being the protector of a clan, a gang, a family... the roles are all the same. there is no room for individuality unless you make it out alive. if you do )

Well. They survived the last assignments handed to them, and inevitably, they decided to procrastinate on returning to Dijiang, filing out reports, and debriefing. The cool night and soft echo of howling wolves was far more appealing—sunset fell behind pine, casting a warm glow across the land, across Catello's eased expression. It draws a smile, curious how most folks fell for the hardened, aloof front the Pack's claws and fangs had carried with him. Despite the damage that would not cease to spread from his oripathy, Catello was quite soft up close, bronzed by hours in the sun, and sculpted by his duties. And yet... his expression was always soft, features barely changed despite the scars and the dust and blood that would seldom adorn his cheeks. Perhaps... soft wasn't entirely correct—solemn, maybe. Youth was preserved when little facial expressions manifest—and Alesh would know, burdened by smile lines that kept giving away his age. Was it normal to analyze a companion this close? Ah, well, probably not, but... Catello was the one to determine he had made an adequate pillow, shoulder to shouler, body weight slowly pressing against him as he relaxed.

Alesh takes another joyful sip of stew, debating on how long he could hold off turning in for the night. The fire was built to last far longer than a short excursion, wholly responsible for the richness in flavor ( he always insisted to cook for the both of them ever since alesh gushed about the meal he'd prepared for him as a gift of gratitude.. ), and there was enough to go around for tomorrow as breakfast with a hefty coffee from the grinds Alesh stashed. Catello is a kind soul at the end of the day, isn't he? With few opportunities to show why his Pack looked to him, even if he insisted they adored Rossi far more. Famiglia. Família. Though, he'd never seen this type of closeness with anyone else, it was just him ( oh, that stirs a little bit of greed somewhere back there, doesn't it ). Maybe he'd been duped by his anaty charm, impressed by his angling skills—ha, no shot. They both just found a comfort in the closeness—Catello was able to show it more earnestly than he, it was as simple as that. Too many extra years in solitude and a failed dream that the hometown that swallowed people left and right would finally rid itself of that awful appetite. Alesh was crazy for believing the old fart even for a second, and Catello was crazier for finding a home port in a guy like him.

He still wouldn't have it any other way.

When the anaty finally finishes his second serving of stew, the sun's ever reaching gaze casts deeper hues of red, turning the sky into a transition of pink to purple. The campfire draws closer to becoming the only source of heat for the operators, and the shadows cast over Catello's resting face dance along with the flames, crackling wood periodically.

Perhaps the most significant shift Alesh cannot ignore is the peace that followed wherever they went—angling was his tried and true escape and joy, but maybe the personal connection was slowly inching it's way through the damaged guards around his claims of being a loner as well. Damn.. that stupid gang of his made him soft, even if they constantly were beating the shit out of each other on top of rival groups, didn't it? He knows what the idea of love can feel like, and it's messy and stupid. But what Catello continued to give him was something else, something steady—he's never known steady—and it lingers even after they step apart. He's messed him up bad and he's warmed up to the notion.

( catello's trusting him to keep him safe more and more these days, hasn't he? )

"Ai.. You're gonna be the reason why I lose my other eye, Catello," he sighs, shaking his head. There's no exasperation in his quiet observation, however, practically accepting of his inevitable fate. Alesh shifts his posture, setting his dish aside and snaking an arm behind his back, hand settling against his waist. His thumb hooks through a belt loop, bearing the deadweight as he opens the invitation for Catello to rest more comfortably, chin content to rest against the lupo's temple. They'll be here awhile, at least, until the fire dies down to embers. Perfect, really, it's more than enough time to get through the rest of his current book and pick up another.

@solaurous / good morning aletello nation. inbox call. | accepting.

[goldcerts]

Whatever the operator just walking into the kitchen intended to do there is apparently, not as important as the clear panic spotting Alesh in there, task forgotten entirely the moment he's spotted busy enjoying a frozen treat that perhaps was not as well guarded as it should've been. "Sir— that is operator Laevatain's ice cream—!" Ah. Ah. That's, mh— that's not good, is it?

"Ha? I dunno, is it?" Alesh questions back, clearly confused by the sudden shift in demeanor. The ice cream was for everyone, wasn't it? With all this stock... it couldn't have been reserved for just one person, right?

"Eh, it's all Laev's?" No way. This ice cream is pretty salty. Wasn't her preference cold and sweet? It's not like he's ever seen her that close to a body of water—well, at least not entirely without evil intent. "There's no name on it, you're pullin' my tail." Clearly, she wasn't around to notice anyway, but if it was supposed to be all hers, then the staff around here was slacking—now, that can't be his fault, right?

...

Huh. Is it him, or is it getting warmer in the kitchen...?

@laevaforge / roasted raccoon for lunch, perhaps. | inbox call.

[goldcerts]

if im not totally dead after work ( sleep who ).....inbox time.

[kittykatninja321]

my advice to the kids is that they should fight people on the playground while they can still get away with it without legal consequences

[adamicecold3000]

[sioltach]

[goldcerts]

ale.sh can't be trusted when he's close to people because everyone loses personal space unless otherwise smacked over the head god bless