ᗕ DRIVEN ᗒ

Vin Robles - Independent Galra OC of Voltron: Legendary Defender

[toney-starks]

Me @ Everyone

[innocenceofourhearts]

[scipunk]

The Creator (2023)

[maudlxne]

Indie private & selective medium-low activity multi-muse beloved by Tae.

Featuring muses from Voltron: Legendary defender | Legend of Zelda | Naruto | D.Gray-Man | Pokemon B&W ( post games ) | & more to come. Established in 2018 and revamped in 2024. Must be 21+ to interact. Please LIKE &/or REBLOG if you are interested in interacting. CARRD | Promo template source

[vrepit-sa]

Though he paused to direct his grimace at her, nonetheless he reached out a leg, hooking his boot around the can and dragging it closer. Now that she was saying it, he did sort of feel like he was going to puke his brains out. Literally. He was beginning to have such a headache he wondered if it’d turned to liquid in his skull.

It was when she sat first that he set the rifle down on the desk he’d been standing in front of, and leans heavily back against it. The adrenaline had worn off, and it was clear she wasn’t going to attack him. For now, he could relax. Though, he did sound irritated as he pinched the bridge of his nose and muttered; “I don’t know who Ziva is. I don’t even know who you are.”

What did she mean by actually Sendak, anyway? Did she know who he was? What were the odds there was a King Zarkonand a Sendak around? That was a little too coincidental. He sucked in a breath through his nose, and his eyes were closed in an increased grimace. Maybe this wasn’t real and he needed to wake upsomehow…

His eyes cracked open and peered at the rifle, but they soon lifted toward the stranger in a half-lidded look of oddly familiar sardonicism. Even the disparaging comment that followed was an echo — rather, the very opposite of an echo. “Oh, were you there too?”

It’s gone as soon as it happens. Sendak reaches out and pushes the rifle away, not entirely trusting that he won’t try and shoot himself in the foot in an attempt to ‘wake’ from a coma that might not have even been real. He shook his head. “I’m not going to try and convince you. I was somewhere else a varga ago. I shouldn’t be here.” Daibazaal was gone for ten thousand years. Zarkon was Emperor. And…

His grimacing expression softens to recognition again. “Wait.”I don’t even know who you are, he’d said to her. “Do you recognize me?”

[gun-maker]

Vin could appreciate a little sarcasm. Too bad it wasn't really the time for it.

"Of course I wasn't there. I'm nowhere near as old as you... he... is. Dammit." She breathed out, digging her fingers into her hair and yanking it back out of her face.

"And yes, I recognize you. Anyone with two neurons in their head would." She fished around in the left pocket of her work smock and produced a datapad. "Here, I'll show you."

It took a few moments of tapping and scrolling before she held the device up to face him. On its screen, a portrait of a Galran who looked strikingly like him, but not. Certain features were far sharper, worn by thousands of years of hard living, and that was to say nothing of the ugly scar and glowing red cybernetic that stood in place of his right eye.

And overall he just seemed... bigger. Something difficult to convey on such a small scale, and yet that single, tiny image still managed to dwarf the figure standing in front of her.

"There's no mistaking it."

[gun-maker]

Vin could appreciate a little sarcasm. Too bad it wasn't really the time for it.

"Of course I wasn't there. I'm nowhere near as old as you... he... is. Dammit." She breathed out, digging her fingers into her hair and yanking it back out of her face.

"And yes, I recognize you. Anyone with two neurons in their head would." She fished around in the left pocket of her work smock and produced a datapad. "Here, I'll show you."

It took a few moments of tapping and scrolling before she held the device up to face him. On its screen, a portrait of a Galran who looked strikingly like him, but not. Certain features were far sharper, worn by thousands of years of hard living, and that was to say nothing of the ugly scar and glowing red cybernetic that stood in place of his right eye.

And overall he just seemed... bigger. Something difficult to convey on such a small scale, and yet that single, tiny image still managed to dwarf the figure standing in front of her.

"There's no mistaking it."

[vin-robles]

i enjoy being paid to draw my own OCs

[vrepit-sa]

Clear suspicion clouded his expression at her recognition, but he doesn’t get the chance to inquire about it. He, too, can’t help the raise of his brows at her answer. Zarkon? The surprise evolves to shock at the next. He’d been preparing himself to hear such an outlandish answer, but it does little to ease the blow of hearing it.

Sendak backs up, lowering the rifle and shifting his gaze elsewhere as his thoughts raced. “Yes, Sendak, I…” Not only was Daibazaal gone, had been gone for over ten thousand deca-phoebs, but Zarkon was King — no, Emperor. Surely it couldn’t be the same Zarkon, could it? Just a legacy name?

He grimaces, the weapon dropping to one hand as the opposite moved reflexively to his head, as if he could still the world from spinning with the revelation. Sendak’s expression is pained, but pensive, like trying to remember the answer to her question was a strenuous effort.

“I don’t — fully recall. Voltron was there.” That alone could have meant anything, but it was something. Abnormalities of all kinds were attracted to the otherworldly weapon. Gods, he suddenly felt so light-headed. It was getting hard to focus. “I think I was… Defending something? I was defending something for Zarkon. While he was gone piloting.”

[gun-maker]

"O-oh... uh..." Vin sucked in a breath through her teeth, glancing around the room for a moment. When she spotted a rubbish can, she toed it toward him, being careful not to get much closer than she was already. "If you're going to be sick, use that. Please." There was no separate cleaning crew. It was up to her to keep the place spotless and she would rather not have... well. It wasn't a thought she really cared to finish.

She considered the stranger for a few moments more. Or was he actually one, if he really was who he claimed to be? The armor was certainly spot on from what she'd gleaned from Ziva's notes when she'd bothered to peruse them. And it was much too pristine to have suffered the wear of ten thousand years, even in the best of conditions.

Backing away, she sank down onto a nearby stool, not even thinking that maybe he was in need of a seat more than she was.

"None of this makes any sense. You're sure Ziva didn't put you up to this? Because that's the only person I can think of that has anything to gain from pranking me like this." She rubbed at her temples, the initial adrenaline of having a gun pointed at her gradually giving way to more logical thoughts. "The only other explanation I can think of is that you're actually Sendak and you got sucked through a rift or something of the like. Which is hard for me to believe since nobody has seen anything like that since the original one on Daibazaal."

Her brow creased, her mouth opening to say more, but she snapped it closed again.

There was no way.

[vrepit-sa]

gun-maker.

That one, she felt, the bolt heating up her cheek as it sizzled past her head. She still wasn’t sure that this wasn’t just a prank taken too far by a colleague looking to get a rise out of her. She had half a mind to keep mum and see how far she could take this, but she wasn’t about to argue with someone who looked fully prepared to decorate the walls with her brains.

Albeit unbidden, her hands went up, her empty palms facing him. “You’re in the armory of support ship in the Third Fleet of the Galra Empire. We’re currently in the Juveeno star system, orbiting planet Wydel. Happy now?”

She didn’t bother masking her growing contempt despite having caved to his demands. She could hear the approaching footsteps now—probably a group of sentries come to haul the intruder away. She hoped, at any rate.

“Now you tell me something, maybe. Who are you, and what’s with the costume?”

His bristling fur eased somewhat at the answer, now that it soothed his mind. No, it only brought more questions. A part of him had already known what answer to expect — what else could any of this be? Yet, it was wrong — all wrong. If this was the Empire, it was different. Things were changed. He didn’t recognize the system, either.

The only somewhat logical answer was that he was in another time. In another universe, perhaps, or just thrown in the cosmic calendar where he didn’t truly belong. It would be a safe option to withhold any information he did have, whether to protect himself or just the timeline at large… But the burning desire to know more had begun to temper his aggressive tendencies. Whatever type of Galran she was, she was still Galran, wasn’t she? If nothing else, that still bonded them together.

He lowered his rifle. Not entirely, but she was given at least a few inches of trust in the moment.

“ This is no costume. ”Though, he supposed it did look rather out of place here. Outdated, even. Was he somewhere in the future?

“ I am Sendak Vatorizan Sekkva, of the Xohvnik-Classis, X-02. Legion of Oozorne, personal guard and compatriot to the — .. my King. ” Reflexively, a closed fist rested over his chest as he introduced himself in a hurry, clearly used to cycling through this spiel already.  I must speak with King Zarkon, he almost said, then held his tongue. If they were far in the future, the throne must have been taken by another by now. And who knew what they would do? “ What era is it? Who reigns our throne? Which faction of Daibazaal rules currently? ”

[gun-maker]

Vin was careful to keep her expression unreadable as this... person rattled off a list of credentials a mile long. But she couldn't help the involuntary quirk of her eyebrows the moment he mentioned his name.

Sendak.

Sendak.

There was no way. No way. Commander Sendak was halfway across the universe from here, and he could never be bothered with such a complex prank as this one was becoming. Not that this guy didn't look the part; he probably came from the same region the Commander had been born in. But the strict impossibility of it all...

"Chopping Class X-2, Leg of Ozone, right, right..." Vin waved off the long list of nonsense, none of which pinged anything in her memory. Maybe she'd ask Ziva about it later. "You said your name was Sendak?"

Her hands lowered slowly, one clapping onto the back of her neck and rubbing thoughtfully. "We, ah... we don't have a king, we have an emperor. Zarkon. And I don't know what hole you've been living in, but Daibazaal has been gone for over ten thousand deca-phoebs..."

She blinked, still disbelieving of the apparent ruse. "Huh-how did you say you got here again?" Had she even asked? How much did she have to drink the night before?

[gun-maker]

girls' night out with her much, much taller colleagues

[gun-maker]

opens my drafts

peers inside

...slooooowly closes my drafts

[gun-maker]

[gun-maker]

[gun-maker]

hole in the sky au but she's just a smuggler a people smuggler smuggler of people but like in a good way

[gun-maker]

saw hole in the sky mentioned on my tl and i kinda gotta wonder what that’d look like for vin

[rrivlet]

I figuered it out, my gender is *bites you* *bites you* *bites you* *bites you* *bites you* *bites you* *bites you* *bites you* *bites you* *bites you* *bites you* *bites you* *bites you* *bites you* *bites you* *bites you* *bites you* *bites you* *bites you* *bites you* *bites you* *bites you* *bites you* *bites you* *bites you* *bites you* *bites you* *bites you* *bites you* *bites you* *bites you* *bites you* *bites you* *bites you* *bites you* *bites you* *bites you* *bites you* *bites you* *bites you* *bites you* *bites you* *bites you* *bites you* *bites you* *bites you* *bites you* *bites you* *bites y--

[gun-maker]

Unfortunate that I gotta reiterate that this is an 🐜 free blog, but there you have it.

Keep out til you can learn some god damned manners, you lil zygotes.

[gun-maker]

vrepit-sa​:

His ears flattened, expression souring some as her stance relaxed. Was she even taking him seriously? Clearly not.

Before he could think of a response, footsteps caught his ears. Without turning his head, he quickly stepped into the room.

The door operated on DNA signature, encoded to react to specific individuals only with the specific permissions. Of course, there was also those rare few of whom had address to everything — every door in the ship, every lock and command. As the Daibazaalan quickly glanced to the door’s scanner, the palm of his hand slammed against it.

The scanner surveyed the hand against it, and then — in stark confusion to Vin, undoubtedly — chirped in the affirmative. The ship registered no difference between the ‘stranger’s’ palm… and someone Vin knew well as her superior officer — reacting with the same effortless confirmation. Then a click — a lock.

Truthfully, it wasn’t an attempt he expected to work. Still, he tempered the surprise that wanted to creep over his expression, maintaining a steely gaze and a steady arm.

“ Let them come — I’ll carve my way out of this place if I need to. ” He shot in her direction again — still not hitting her, but still unsettlingly close. “ Who or what I am doesn’t matter. I will start with YOU if you don’t TELL ME where I am! ”

That one, she felt, the bolt heating up her cheek as it sizzled past her head. She still wasn’t sure that this wasn’t just a prank taken too far by a colleague looking to get a rise out of her. She had half a mind to keep mum and see how far she could take this, but she wasn’t about to argue with someone who looked fully prepared to decorate the walls with her brains.

Albeit unbidden, her hands went up, her empty palms facing him. “You’re in the armory of support ship in the Third Fleet of the Galra Empire. We’re currently in the Juveeno star system, orbiting planet Wydel. Happy now?”

She didn’t bother masking her growing contempt despite having caved to his demands. She could hear the approaching footsteps now—probably a group of sentries come to haul the intruder away. She hoped, at any rate.

“Now you tell me something, maybe. Who are you, and what’s with the costume?”