JOKER.

Both the messenger and the message

[dloeza]

[mojavemassacre]

starter for @grandorder!

“Hey, Wodime!” Six’s voice cuts through the sleepy early-morning atmosphere of Cotes Ward. Those few citizens who are out and about on the streets this morning can only take a single look at the loud man and shuffle away. Some manage to scrape up enough willpower to shoot him a look, but none get in his way—not that he cares, because he only has eyes for the poor bastard standing on a street corner, nibbling at a pastry of some sort. “Kirsch! Guess who’s back!?”

It only takes a moment before Six arrives, and he marks his arrival with a solid thwap to the other’s back.

“You’re looking good, pretty boy. Man, is it good to see you.” Six leaves it unsaid that, from his perspective, it’s only been a little while since the two of them last spoke. takes a step back, arms wide open, a shit-eating grin stretching across his lips. “Where’s my hug, man!?”

[mojavemassacre]

starter for @otherworldly-healer!

“That’s… actually kind of funny.” Six jabs at his plate and spears a chicken nugget with a thoughtful expression. With a deft movement he dips it into the little cup of sauce—barbecue and tabasco sauce with a dab of mayo to hold it all together—and pops the whole thing into his mouth.

“I don’t remember what it was like to ‘go home’. One thing I was here, then—boom. It’s like, half a year later. Or a year, whatever.” The man sounds supremely unbothered by the concept. “Maybe I never actually went home, like they kept me shut up in a locker somewhere and let me out ‘cause they got bored. There’s a thought, isn’t it?” Six punctuates the pause by scooping up a portion of his mac and cheese.

After running into each other, the two of them had decided to sit down at a nearby restaurant… or more specifically, Six had practically dragged Raine there, promising that he’d pay for her meal; ‘The whole nine yards’, or so he called it.

“Maybe that should worry me but… y’know. Que sera, sera.” He pauses for a second, suddenly realizing something. “Er... that’s an old saying where I’m from. It means ‘what will be will be.’ But, yeah, that’s how I feel about it, I guess.”

With that said, he reaches for his beer.

“But that’s me. How’ve you been, Raine?”

[mojavemassacre]

i’m back baby

have a starter call! i’ll cap it at four for now!

[mojavemassacre]

i’m a fool, capping it at six likes now

[mojavemassacre]

i’m back baby

have a starter call! i’ll cap it at four for now!

[mojavemassacre]

[mojavemassacre]

I recently commissioned some art of Six from this lovely artist here on tumblr, and I wanted to have it up on his blog! Just look at him, the smug POS that he is.

[mojavemassacre]

[isolaradiale]

Hi there! I'd like to reapply as The Courier (or Courier Six) from Fallout New Vegas. You can find his application at /app and his statistics at /stats! Thank you very much for your time.

Welcome back to lovely Isola Radiale, Courier Six!

You’ll be staying in TOWNHOUSE 214!

You will retain everything you were given in your previous stay.

Enjoy your stay!

– ⋆ canopus.

[landsharkbite]

Winter always bludgeons you over the head like a well-swung sack of bricks. After about four decades of experience you think you’d be a little better prepared for the turn.

The snowy weather flat out hurts to be out and about in sometimes, doubly so when the wind picks up, so you’re more than happy to spend especially blustery days like this holed up in the warm haven that is your penthouse with the windows locked and the fireplace roaring. You’d do this even if it wasn’t a shitstorm outside, but you’ve got even more of an excuse today and you’ll happily wave the poor health bill around like an ‘I can do what I want’ pass.

Besides, you’ve got a fun new bit of privilege to exercise. And what better way to cure what ails you than to bid a friend brave the bitter cold to come to you?

You’ve left the key under the doormat for Six, and he’s bound to find you unmoved from the spot where you made the call— square in front of the fire and draped in at least five large blankets, almost hidden from sight until you emerge just enough to greet him as he draws near.

“Hey there, handsome.”

@mojavemassacre

[mojavemassacre]

Winter—a proper cold bastard of a season, something entirely different from Jacobstown back home—was but the latest in Six’s firsts during his stay in Spirale. It wasn’t something he couldn’t deal with; at most he had to spend some time buying thicker coats and a couple of scarves… but Six couldn’t shake a feeling not unlike homesickness. The cheer and fun of the holiday season (something he’d known vaguely about back home as a weird little thing that people tended to do at the end of the year) helped keep his spirits up...

But at the end of the day, it was his arrangement with Rosa that chased away most of the gloom. Hell, he had just spent the last thirty minutes trekking through a—by his standards—miserable winter afternoon just to see her.

“Cold as all hell...”

That didn’t stop him from audibly complaining as soon as he stepped through her door, shucking off his overcoat and tossing it on a nearby rack. A small paper bag he’d been carrying goes onto a nearby table.

“Hey yourself.” He smiled at the sight before him. Rosa had made it clear that she wasn’t built for the cold, but this was a little more than what he expected. “Looks like I made it just in time.”

[mojavemassacre]

baddestdangerboy​:

That’s true too. For most normal people it eventually comes around…but somehow the worst of the worst don’t really have it coming. It never arrives. It goes on and on and on…but that’s why he does what he does. 

“Isn’t that what people do at bars? And your job is to listen to that garbage..you poor sob,” he chuckles with a shake of his head. 

But the drink’s good, he’ll give him that.

“Aw, it ain’t that bad. I kinda like listening to people go on about this and that.”

“Especially in a place like this! All sorts of folk end up here. It’s the craziest thing, really... though I’m betting that kind of stuff is old hat to you.”

[mojavemassacre]

verprisal​:

“That’s downright insidious. Absolutely perfect for a man of business.” There’s a wink in there, beneath the gently gnash of teeth and slowly disappearing peanuts. It sounds like something one from Ul’dah would do, but then more Ul’dah people were small and equally money-pawing. This man, while small, doesn’t quite fit the criteria. Just your average inn owner, with just a big more edge.

“Eh, a poet? I dabble on the side, when my whims aren’t so errant. And– ohhh, is that a tooth? Should someone go pick that up for him, or?” Not that Tempa’s moving, oh no. They’ve got a good seat here. 

“Thank you, thank you.” Six places a hand on his chest and gives Itempa’a a mock bow—which is all the more sad given that he’s seated beside the stranger. “That just means I’m doing my job right.”

Then their collective attention turns back to the fight.

“Hmm, maybe? In any case, I think this guy’s gone. Wonder why the referee hasn’t called it yet.” Six glances critically at the referee in question. They’re a local, and from what Six recalls they’re a particularly rough sort… which probably works out in the favor of the guy who lost the tooth; despite that rather nasty blow he’s taken… he’s still going on. “Well, I take that back. Looks like he’s still in the running.”

Six then turns to the viera.

“Anyways, and I’m kinda serious about this, but would you mind me taking that ‘Punch Bowl’ idea? Might make a monthly event or something, or name a competition after it. It’s a damn good name.”

[mojavemassacre]

i swear i’m still alive

[nurotoxin]

     ❝   you know ,   your little establishment is not very welcoming to androids .   there’s not a single thing i can drink here .   ❞

     she  sits  by  her  night’s  companion  in  the  club ,   chin  inched  up  as  she  casually  scans  through  the  list  of  drinks ,   features  half  obscured  by  the  menu   &   low  -  lit  lighting .   a  rising  smirk  accompanying  monotonous  words   &   a  mouthful  of  complaints ,   it’d  be  a  sure  surprise  to  anyone  that  SHE’D  been  the  one  insisting  on  coming .   fingers  glide  the  menu  back  towards  the  other ,   even  considering  the  short  distance  between  them ,   right  cheek  coming  up  to  rest  upon  left  palm  in  an  instant .

    ❝   although ,   i admit ,   i AM waiting for some drunken fight to break loose .   all data i have recorded about intoxicated human behavior have been terribly unreliable so far ,   so THAT needs correcting .    ❞

it’s   ––––   for  the  lack  of  a  better  word   –––   humorous  to  her ,   the  way  intoxication  can  alter  a  human  being  so  much .  

    ❝   …   also ,   it seems like a nice circus show to witness .   you agree ,   don’t you ?   i can’t think of any other good reason as to why you’d open up such a lounge otherwise .   ❞

     @mojavemassacre​   /

[mojavemassacre]

“Sorry to disappoint you, but I’m trying to run a tight ship here. Or as tight a ship you can get when there’s alcohol on the premises.” Six’s tone is airy, as if he was dismissive of the woman’s complaints. “The only brawls we let happen are the ones that take place in the ring… and if any of our fighters go in drunk, well that’s their problem, not mine.” He cracks a small grin. “Maybe it’ll piss off anyone dumb or unlucky enough to bet on ‘em, but eh, what’s life without a wrinkle or two?”

“Aside from that, you’re on the money. There are a lot of folk who like nothing more than seeing a good fight or two, especially if they can make a little scratch in the process.” Six gestures down at the crowd, where a few bookmakers are busy taking bets for the next round. “There’s plenty of data for you coming up, I’m sure.”

[mojavemassacre]

landsharkbite​:

You stare for a moment in mild disbelief. The stars leave out free candies with zero explanation of their origin or whatever else might’ve had its hands in it, no mention of any other possible side effects that might’ve gone unmentioned in their advertising, and—

“—you seriously just went ahead and ate it?”

You won’t say that was kinda stupid aloud, although the tone of your voice no doubt makes your thoughts obvious and it’s dropped soon enough. If Six keels over from food poisoning later on you’ll both know what did it.

“If it’s just the teeth you were lookin’ for, I can give you some of mine next time.” Half a joke, but only half— lord knows you’ve got a whole jar of loose spares at home. Soon you’ve moved in for a closer look, touching a hand to Six’s cheek and pushing up his lip just a bit with your thumb for a better peek at his new fangs. “C’mere, lemme see.”

Sure enough, it’s a hot new dose of vampirism fresh off the grill— so far as appearances are concerned at least. “Damn. Yeah. Red eyes, sharp teeth, lookin’ like you haven’t seen the sun in years… it’s a hell of a look for you. I like it.” You aren’t keenly attuned with teen girl obsessions, but you can understand the appeal now that you’re up close and personal with it. “You sure you’re feelin’ the same?”

“Yup. What’s the worst that could happen? If I don’t like this shit I can just grab one of those other candies. The devolution ones. Descension, whatever.” Six waves a now very pale hand dismissively. “And if things get any worse for me, then I can just swoon into your arms.”

Six chuckles at Rosa’s macabre joke—he’ll have to get her to explain what she means by that some time—but is a little taken aback when Rosa steps forward and starts touching him. It’s not a bad development, mind you, but Six is surprised nonetheless. Sure, their relationship is a little different now, but to see her so comfortable with him so quickly was a little unexpected. That being said, there were more important things to discuss...

“Well, now that you mention it, I’m feeling kinda… thirsty.” His voice warbles, just a little bit. His red eyes glaze up a little bit as he glances at Rosa’s exposed neck. He’s so frazzled that he doesn’t even remark on Rosa’s offhanded compliment. “I don’t wanna worry you or anything, but your neck’s looking mighty fine right about now. And I don’t just mean that in the usual sense.”

[mojavemassacre]

grandorder​:

A little off is something of an understatement. It’s like a breeze, but the voice beneath that wind scratches - a dreadful howl, a dying tree at a closed window, several times overlapped and wrong. But it’s a familiar voice all the same, regardless of how much it has transformed ( or Six, or even him, for that matter ).

“Six.” Thankfully the same, despite the sudden warble to his voice and less-than-corporeal status. It doesn’t take Kirsch long to figure what costume he’d wore before taking the candy. “You went for a bedsheet ghost, then? I sincerely hope you put eyeholes in it at least.”

In comparison, his change is less than apparent. Save, perhaps, the change in colouring to both his clothing and eyes. Oh, and the sudden, insidious urge to do something like– knock the vending machine with his fist, while Six is plunged halfway into it.

“Maybe I did… maybe I didn’t… Ooooooo.” Six emerges once more to glance at his friend. When he speaks again his voice loses a bit of that eerie quality, given that he doesn’t have to project it to Kirsch’s soul or brain or whatever. (Hopefully, a part of him thinks, it’s still spooky.)  “The end result is the same…” 

“what are you going as, though? Your evil twin?”

The barb delivered, he turns back to the vending machine, and once more ducks his head into it, phasing through metal and glass.

“Damn. You think I could steal all this soda? I might be a ghost but I’m thiiiiiiiirsssstttyyyyy.”

Once more his voice takes on that ethereal quality, though it’s much louder this time. Six leans forward more and more of his upper torso disappears, until his rear is pointed up in the air.

“For sooouuuuuullllls.”

A beat.

“But some sodaaaa would doooooooo…”

[mojavemassacre]

firehrt​:

          ❝   That might be the worst thing you could do, besides trampling on their gardens all over again. They enjoy the shinier things in life, it’s true, but iron ?  Not so much. They would be overly cautious of any coin, just to be safe.  ❞

               IF   she were being honest… There’s something satisfying about being able to talk freely and openly about faeries. It’s a light, stirring sensation in her chest; a line tugging from her ribcage straight towards Terrasen, towards Brannon’s Forest — and all the little folk that used to call it home.

          ❝   … Foxgloves. Ever heard of those ?  Foxgloves and bluebells are favorites for little folk. You should leave them as peace offerings at the plots you ruined.  ❞

“Right. No cash then. Iron’s off the table too.” Not that Six wanted to pay them to begin with, but it was nice to get confirmation from a professional, or however close this woman was to one.

“Foxgloves and bluebells. I haven’t heard of them myself, flowers aren’t much of a thing back home, but yeah, I’ll note that down.” And note them he does, right into the notepad app on his Star-given phone. “You have to deal with these little buggers before?”