Shepard-Commander?

 A roleplay blog for Control ending Post-war shepard. (see character deets for details)

[reaper-code]

New oc coming soon,, She’s gonna be fuuuunnn,,,,  Artist Credit, please don’t use without permission

[qvotext]

[reaper-code]

Appears out of no where with embarrassment for not touching this account since I created it Hello friends I still exist please write with me I miss shepard so much.

[codenameartangel-deactivated202]

Finally got around to commissioning someone to draw my Reaper/control ending Shepard!  She’s so beautiful I can’t believe itt <333 Artist is here!

[royallytwistednauts-blog]

Graviir watched everything in slow motion, even that of the other moving closer towards him. Instincts said to stand, to fight, and maybe even to flee. Alas, he didn’t have it in him and he was mostly sure that the other wasn’t here to finish him off. Although, most other men probably would, use it to their advantage. Hell, the renown for walking around saying they not only bested but killed the man De Sardet would definitely have its perks. But here the other was, rifling though his pockets before crouching down before him, and even though he could se him coming, watched as the tissue was pulled forth and another hand reached for him, he still couldn’t help but flinch away.

He let him though… and he didn’t know why. Not why he was doing this or why he, himself was letting him move his hand and add the cloth against the wound. He just didn’t have it in him to fight anymore. Somewhere between the booze and the now dulling ache of the gashes against his cheek and neck had made him seemingly forget. None of this was going the way it should have been - the way it was supposed to go.

“Move… damp… an infection.” The words almost seemed teasing in his muddled mind, but somehow he knew the other was serious and maybe that was because of the persistence he had shown so far. An infection, another slow way of dying, still, it seemed fitting for one such as himself and once more, he had not the heart nor the will to argue. Not to mention the fact this stranger still had yet to answer his question. To be fair though, the question hadn’t been exactly clear but surely in his state that could be looked over..? Why help him? Why stop him? Why did the stranger from the bar say that he didn’t want him to die. “Hell… Why did any of it matter?” He thought to himself as the other was replacing a hand over his own and offering him a sweet smile. He didn’t deserve it or any of his kindness.

“I know what it’s like to lose those that mean something to you…” Those words cut through him like glass, jagged and feeling every place it nicked. Had he the strength, any of it, he might have surely shoved the stranger away then and there - tell him to go fuck himself - as he would anyone else. Sure, he may had known about the events of the day but surely there was know way he knew of his and Kurt’s past, or the way Graviir felt now because of it. It didn’t matter what he thought himself, it’s not like he could act on any of it in the moment. He just hoped whatever composure he had left, he could keep it.

“Grav- iir.” He nearly growled out, yellow eyes slightly narrowing at the other for a moment before he found himself looking away and leaning head head against the cool, damp brick of the wall behind him. De Sardet wasn’t even his name. Sure. he’d been called by it, lived in the household of the De Sardets… another secret few now knew, but he and Marquis, no. They were never truly De Sardets. If the lad was going to stick around, he might as well know the man’s real name. Even for a noble, the fact he didn’t seem to know it was a little impressive, if not suspicious. 

The more words falls from the other’s lips, words Graviir should like to ponder. What would Kurt think? It was almost laughable, and he would laugh if he could. Kurt didn’t and wouldn’t get a say so. He’d taken the same way out Grav was planning…

Then, then he did laugh, a short, low chuckle that seemed to pain him to do. “You? Take care of me?” Graviir had asked him earlier about having a death wish, didn’t he? Surely the smaller statured man before him with the lovely hair couldn’t be serious. It wasn’t even a question of himself anymore but what others might think should they see the noble dragging back the Legate’s muscle. He also know if hetold the other to leave him, he wasn’t going to listen. They wouldn’t be where they were now if he had listened to anything Graviir said at all. 

Honestly, what more did he have to loose he wondered as he took the other’s hand, and used what little strength he did have to get back to his feet, part of him knowing full well the other would not be able to handle his mass. Once up, he swayed lightly, it was dizzying as he got to his feet once more and he could feel a new heat against his skin as the movement caused him st start bleeding more, his heart trying to keep up with the man as he went from near lifeless to moving again and he had to brace against the wall once more. 

“Don’t think we’re going anywhere.” He muttered and let his eyes flutter shut. This wasn’t him fighting, he was being realistic and unless the stranger before him had some basic magic or a nearby place, he’d be left dragging the man at this rate. 

[reaper-code]

[ ✰: “ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵗᶦᵐᵉ ᶦˢ ᵖʳᵉᶜᶦᵒᵘˢ. ˢᵖᵉⁿᵈ ᶦᵗ ʷᶦˢᵉˡʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷᶦᵗʰ ᵗʰᵒˢᵉ ʷʰᵒ ᶜᵃʳᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ʸᵒᵘ.” ]                                      𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐇                     ─────────────────── Graviir...That was his name, you were assuming? Well, its good to know. At least you didn't have to feel like you were insulting him by calling him De Sardet. You felt like you had been, the way he responded to it always seemed so stiff. You'd hold off on asking questions about it though, at least for now. There was more pressing issues to care for, things like that? could wait. Even if you were a little curious. Perhaps he was like you- hated the person that he was..in a sense, at least. He was trying to harm himself to get rid of parts of himself he didn't like after all. Was what you did that much different?

Despite the combative tone of his words towards you, something was nice about hearing him laugh. Sure, it was at the expense of you. Probably didn't think you had the ability to care for him in you, given your whole,,,self. But he'd be surprised. You'd probably looked after more obnoxious men then him before. You specifically remember one who refused your help completely, fighting any form of it until he'd passed out. At least in D-- Graviir's case, he wasn't fighting as much. Or maybe that was just due to his lack of ability to fight back by that point..But anyway- The laugh. It clearly showed he hadn't completely lost himself in his feelings. That was a good thing. It meant there was still something in him to save.

You weren't about to give up on him, even if he hadn't. Over the top persistence and all. But it still made you feel better. Just imagining how uncomfortable it must be  to put your trust in a complete stranger- But here he was. Hell, he'd even finally seemed interested in taking your advice on the whole not dying thing. Which was good! Buuut his feet were unsteady, and he was finding it impossible to stand without assistence of a wall...concerning. You /weren't/ giving up just because of that though.

"Take your time, Graviir. Theres no rush. I'm here for you."

It was at times like this you wished you'd had some form of healing magic, but magic was one more thing that was impossible for you. You'd never even been trained with a sword, imagining having power at your fingertips was..almost concerning. Still, it would have been easier. Imagine the posibilities if you could just zap that wound of his and make it all better? You'd both be better off for it, no doubt. Outside the daydream though, all you had was yourself. And whatever you had lying around to try make sure he was safe. First: that tissue was not going to do very much in the way of drying up blood anymore- once again it was soaked. You needed something more..

Your eyes scanned the area for a moment before landing on the now abandoned dagger on the floor. Lets hope it wasn't too dull..

"Stay still, I'll be one second."

You felt wrong leaving his side even if it was just for a few seconds, but you had no choice. You gripped the dagger, using it to cut off some of the fabric of your cape as you walked back to him. It was better used for this anyway. Anything to help out. After also wiping off the now sticky blood from the blade, you also decided to keep the dagger with you for now, too. It was probably safer in the hands of someone who didn't know how to use it then the hands of someone who'd just stabbed themselves. You could give it back to him when he was more stable. Yuo're sure he would appriciate that.

Now, you were replacing the tissue with the spare fabric, and taking hold of his arm. Sure, you weren't the strongest, but sticking himself to the wall wasn't exactly going to get him to a place that was safe, was it?

"My home isn't that far, you'll be okay."

It would've been pretty damn easy to add an 'I hope' to that sentence, but you didn't feel like testing luck there.

-

The walk back was intense. And took a bit more time then you would've liked, but you got there eventually. It was more your fault that it'd took so long though, you'd tried to avoid areas where there were a lot of people. No doubt he'd rather avoid the shame of being seen in a state like this. Surely he'd thank you for it at some point- if he'd even remembered it. You couldn't tell if he was fully concious or not half of the time you were walking, or if it was just instinct keeping him up.

Instinct or no, however, it got him there. And soon enough he was safely in your bed, while you rushed around your house to find any and all medical supplies you'd had. You also found him some spare clothes- Just incase he'd wanted to change out of the ones covered in blood after he was more lucid. It meant little to you compared to being certain he'd live, though. After shoving everything you'd collected down on the table beside your bed, you quickly got to work on cleaning out the wound. Pulling out a few clean bandages, you soaked them in antiseptic, speaking as you did.

"You should know this is going to hurt. I'm sorry."

You kind of hoped the alcohol he'd drank earlier was still in effect, because the guilt you'd felt as you washed out the wound was,,,intense. It probably wasn't the worst pain he'd felt, though. Likely given how many fights he'd been in, he'd experienced this a lot more times before. Now that the wound was cleaned, the next objective was helping the bleeding. You couldn't do anything about the blood he'd already lost, but you could make sure he didn't lose any more. It didn't look like it was bad enough to need stitches, thankfully. But you had them just incase. For now you'd just done all you could to make sure he was in a comfortable position that he wouldn't move from, and keep clean bandages over the wound.

"Try to stay still, okay? Its going to be okay now. You'll live."

[brujah-remade]

What about you? I’m starting to see some wear and tear. I won’t lie, it’s been rough.

[randomotherkin]

[kairo-aka-alazero]

I want to go back home

[solidsmax]

Mayday, mayday, mayday ! This is SSV Normand.

[royallytwistednauts-blog]

Graviir was too lost in his own thoughts to realize he was being followed, let alone approaching so closely. He just wanted to lie down and die. He was set on it, and on removing the mark from his skin. Too bad it wasn’t the only thing that could identify him, but if he died close enough to the water’s edge, he could be washed out with the tide, no mess to clean up, no body to carry back and burn. This was easier, even if it was selfish. That’s all people would know and see as well, the selfishness. They would never know what happened to him growing up, the bond he had for Kurt, a captain of the coin guard whom he had let slip beyond his grasp and who had now paid the ultimate sin for it. A sin Graviir was committed to paying as well. 

The blade flashed again, burning into his skin another jagged, probably gross mark that seeped warmth along his jaw, down to his neck and shoulder. A warmth that shouldn’t have felt as good as it did. Senses seemed to dull further with the latest cut, alcohol still thick in his system - this was better - that clarity he had hoped to find in the dark corner of the tavern finally seeming to find him now. 

Graviir lingered a little now, the dagger held before him, watching the way the moon reflected off what was once polished steel, now finding the wisps of silver that hadn’t yet been coated in his own blood. Still, he hadn’t noticed the approaching stranger, far too gone in his own thoughts before a voice rang out, crashing through his skull like a rogue wave against the hull of the ship and before he knew it, a hand had his arm and years of instinct kicked in.

The hand that had grabbed his arm was grabbed and pinned back behind the back of the stranger as Graviir forced him against the wal of the alley, nearly crushing his chest to it, a low growl in his throat - what strength he usually had was nowhere in sight though, and even as he pinned the other, it was pure reflex, and between the alcohol and the blood loss, he only held him like that for a moment before backing off and finally taking in who had interrupted him for the second time tonight. 

“Fucks’ ake.” He slurred and nearly collapsed against the brick wall opposite the other. His breaths were shallow, and yellow eyes stared the other down - though, oddly, there was no menace behind them, but confusion and obvious sadness. “Ye shouldn’t ‘o come.” He muttered, eyes slowly looking around, wondering if there was anyone else to witness the spectacle but luckily they were alone. The glinting of silver caught his eye and he realized he’d lost his dagger in the minor scuffle, something else that seemed to be a first to happen since his training days that now seemed like they happened lifetimes ago. 

He was ready to say something else, to move on, to do anything else but be left to wallow in his own pity with this stranger from the tavern. He didn’t have the mindset to feel embarrassed or ashamed though, actually, he didn’t have the mindset for much as he let himself slide to the ground, almost in a heap. 

“I don’t want you to die…” The words fluttered through Grav’s mind. When had he heard them? The scuffle? And why did it matter, they didn’t know one another and the noble sure as hell didn’t owe him a gods damned thing, but here he was - they were - and Graviir couldn’t manage to say anything now. for a moment, all he could think about was how pathetic, how low he’d finally sunk and someone got to see it. Not just anyone either, a noble, someone who could spread the word just as fast, if not faster than word of the Coup had spread. 

“Why?” he finally managed to ask, so low he wondered if the other could even hear him. His hand reached up slowly to scratch at his birthmark, a tick he never realized he had until fingers scratched at an open wound and he whimpered quietly. Fingers adjusting slightly, wrist twisting, he wrapped his hand around the open, and still heavily bleeding wound, his palm coating in red quickly as he applied what pressure he could. If he was going to die like this, he would at least live long enough to hear the answer to his question. 

[reaper-code]

[ ✰: “ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵗᶦᵐᵉ ᶦˢ ᵖʳᵉᶜᶦᵒᵘˢ. ˢᵖᵉⁿᵈ ᶦᵗ ʷᶦˢᵉˡʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷᶦᵗʰ ᵗʰᵒˢᵉ ʷʰᵒ ᶜᵃʳᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ʸᵒᵘ.” ]                                       𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐇                      ───────────────────

Ouch.

That hurt.

You weren't quite sure what hurt more, the physical pain or the pride you'd lost faster then he'd pushed you away. Your ribs sure did hurt from that, though. And your face- You think you might have scraped it against the wall? You couldn't tell, but it stung like a bitch. You really should have thought more in acting impulsively like that, not that you would. Plus, it had happened now, and you had more to think about  then the fear you'd felt in the moment. You still had to help him. No matter the pain you were in, he was the one bleeding. You stood against the wall a few more seconds after he'd let you go, half nervous to turn to him. When had you closed your eyes? You hadn't realized until the moment you were turning back to him.

Wow. Was it possible that he looked even worse then before? Any fear you'd felt a moment ago quickly disappeared as you saw his..well, rather meek frame. The fight he'd had while pushing you off him must have been practically nothing. Which you should probably be thankful for, actually.  You take a moment to take a sharp breath in attempts to keep it together. It wasn't your place to react to your pain. Not yet- not ever. So many more deserved those feelings more then you did.

His light whimper was easily noted, especially in such a still quiet allyway. It hurt to hear, you were just easily affected though, weren't you? But either way, it sprung you back to your actions. You kneel down beside him, hand searching your pockets for the tissue from earlier. Thankfully you had remembered to grab it before rushing out after him. Hopefully it would be enough to stop the bleeding. With cautious speed, you reach over to his face, taking his bloodied hand away from the wound and quickly replacing it with the tissue, holding it against the bloodied wound. You couldn't see too good in the darkness, but it didn't seem to be bleeding //too// heavily. It did cause you to at least notice what he was trying to do though. His marking- Seemed like he really hated it. It made you feel bad, you'd always thought that it looked pretty, in a way. You hadn't had the chance to see it up close like this, of course. Just glimpses. But even covered in blood you'd not thought differently on it. Your opinion could wait anyway, his opinion was what was important here, his words.  The quiet question of 'why'. Why what? Why you were here? Or why you cared enough to try help him?

"We should get out of here- find somewhere less damp. You'll get an infection."

You ignored his question at first, almost unsure of how to respond. Why had you wanted so badly to save someone with such a bad reputation? It was a worthy question. Anyone else would have been selfish, ignored the hurt in him. Let the seemingly crazy man do what he'd came out to do. What would it matter, it wasn't as though it would have directly effected you would it? So what if a stranger died, that happened every minute. Another person was likely dying as you'd sat here with him, someone more deserving of help even. If you were someone else, you'd likely have found some selfish way to make it about you- make this a that you could have gained power. He had been cousins to the governor after all, a lot of weight behind that title. But that wasn't you, was it? You could put yourself in the mind of those who thought it, but it would never fit in your mind. Truth is, it wouldn't have mattered who he was. You would've helped in an instant. Worst criminal in the world, or the kindest, all deserved to live. And be safe. That was partly why you were at the bar that night. Drinking was a boring activity, but bars are quick ways to find people who needed someone to speak to. Sitting back, ignoring the world, acting like an asshole,,,none of that ever had felt right to you. So you focused all your energy on helping instead. Its what you were best at.  Its why you were here with him. Still, none of this felt like a reasonable answer for why you'd followed so quickly to stop him.

Using your free hand, you place it atop his own, the concern in your eyes turning to the smile from earlier. Gentle, loving.  

"I know what it's like to lose those that mean something to you, but they wouldn't want you to end up like this."

A stupid sentence. Of course no one would want their friends to end up like this.

"You're an important person, De Sardet. And not just to the people, but to your family too. I've heard a lot about you. They care more then you think...And not only them. Think about the one you lost. What would they say if they'd seen you like this? Do you think they''d want this?"

You hate saying things like that- Using other people as a way to stop people from hurting themselves. It felt wrong, dirty. Living for other people wasn't right. You had to live for yourself, for your own reasons. But right now? Perhaps it was something he'd needed to hear. Just knowing that he wasn't alone. That people did care for him. Your simple being there had seemed to make an impression, after all. You quiet down as you carefully pull the tissue back from the wound again. Good, the bleeding had slowed, he was safe for now. You couldn't help but breath a sigh of relief. You go to stand up again, brushing loose hair from your face. You weren't sure if he'd believe what you'd said. But you'd hoped you'd at least given him enough pause to stop his plans..at least for now. For later? You’d just have to keep an eye on him yourself. You held out your hand to him.

"Come with me. You don't have to go back to the palace just yet, let me take care of you instead. I don't want anything else to happen to you."

[royallytwistednauts-blog]

Thoughts swam through Graviir’s mind, the drink doing little to quell them, to quiet them. The out he so desperately seemed to want beckoning him like the fabled sirens of the deep. “Swim out to us. Live and die with us.” He could only promise them silently that he was coming, that he was merely enjoying a final drink instead of a meal before he would go out to meet them. Though in retrospect, he had to ask himself why he was delaying the inevitable? Sure, some might miss him. More than likely, Constantin and Marquis for sure, but they had one another and Marquis had Vasco… There was no need for the older De Sardet. No need for extra muscle. Not to mention with the stunt the coin guard pulled, people were going to be far more weary of that muscle now than ever. Graviir figured there was never truly a place for him to begin with, why would he ever find one now.

The tavern had returned to a low murmur now that he had a few drinks in him and they were sure he didn’t come in to start something, perhaps add their own blood to those of the guard that stained him now. He scratched absentmindedly at the birthmark on his cheek, just another torturous reminder that would leave this world with him. It would be the first to go, the mark, then himself. Hell, maybe two birds, one stone? The thought almost made him smirk. Almost. A blood covered madman, that’s the last thing the locals needed to see. 

People came and went, so he didn’t even notice when another person joined the sounds and smells the tavern provided and he would have happily went on not caring until eyes lingered on his form just a little longer then he would’ve liked and he felt himself shrinking as far back into the corner as he could. 

“De Sardet.”

The name made him flinch and he mentally cursed himself for doing so. He wasn’t thee De Sardet. That was Marquis, his brother and very few people called Graviir that name anymore, if at all. Eyes quickly cast over the new comer who dared approach him, and in such a state. “Noble.” He thought, and had far less interest in the being before him than he did mere moments ago. Even as he ignored him, he seemed to stay, and to even take t upon himself to join the blood soaked man. If people weren’t talking already, they would be before too long. 

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you have a death wish.” His voice was hoarse, between not speaking, holding his emotions back and the burn of the drink that he quickly added too as he polished off another mug in lieu of acknowledging the tissue that had been lain before him. In reality, it was a nice gesture, even if it would do little against the mess, but Graviir wasn’t in the habit of being polite unless he had to be and of all days. today had to be absolutely the worst.

Then the stranger was asking another question, one more in a line of things that seemed to catch the usual stone cold man off guard and all he could do was sigh deeply and slightly lean forward so that his eyes could level with the others. “You know who I am, and I have no doubt you know what has transpired… “ He trailed off, gesturing slightly to the room around them. The Coup was no secret and he doubted and of what happened behind the doors of the palace had remained a secret as well. He also took the moment to find his words, clearly the noble wasn’t going to go anywhere without a fight else he would have been warded off by Graviir’s appearance just like the rest of them had been. Not that it seemed the stranger would hold up well in a fight, but perhaps there was more magic than melee involved… 

Alas, there were no more words, and Graviir could only shake his head and sigh once more. “There is nothing you or anyone else can do. What’s happened has happened and steps have already been taken and decided in what comes next.” He could only hope that was enough for the stranger as he got to his feet and moved to leave before stopping once more. “You, especially as a noble, shouldn’t waste your time, or your things-” He nodded towards the still clean tissue. “ -on someone like me.” With that, he set off, striding outside the tavern and hoping the nobleman would stay put. 

“With the sun setting and shadows quickly growing across New Serene, Graviir felt hidden. It would be harder to see blood in the dark and harder to find a man who didn’t want to be found. He made his way towards the less occupied end of the docks, another go to place for drunks and those down on their luck. He knew he could slip away there. He slid a dagger out from beneath his sleeve, let the weight of it in his hand be a small comfort, the setting sun counting down the last of the day, the last of what would be considered his life.

“Fuck it.” He grumbled, rounding a corner into an alley alongside the docks and took a deep breath as he leaned against a wall and ran the blade through his birthmark. It wasn’t deep enough to kill, not yet, but that didn’t stopped the gurgled cry that escaped his lips, nor did it keep him from moving forward to a better hiding spot - his own blood now mingling with that of the guards he’d taken down in the coup. 

[reaper-code]

[ ✰: “ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵗᶦᵐᵉ ᶦˢ ᵖʳᵉᶜᶦᵒᵘˢ. ˢᵖᵉⁿᵈ ᶦᵗ ʷᶦˢᵉˡʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷᶦᵗʰ ᵗʰᵒˢᵉ ʷʰᵒ ᶜᵃʳᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ʸᵒᵘ.” ]                                        𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐇                       ───────────────────

Well. That could have gone better. To say that you'd somehow royally fucked that up would be an understatement. Your mind was half put off by his instantly aggressive tone. You had been expecting it, no way to twist that. However...He really was not interested in fun chats, huh? No point in being Kind to strangers if you were...Well. That wasn't going to happen- You couldn't let it.  You noticed the light flinch as you'd said his name, too. Maybe that was what had set him off- Had he not liked being called by his last name? You should apologize. But you were so caught up in asking questions before- What if he thought you were being rude by apologizing so late? You couldn't truly mess this introduction up more then you already had, could you. Surely he would have understood that it was just a mistake? Or maybe not, in his current state. But it couldn't hurt to try.

Orrr, maybe it would. The second you'd gone to open your mouth, he was talking. Outing you on your obvious knowledge of the situation. And why wouldn't he? He's not an idiot. Approaching a bloodied man without any form of protection, completely unaware of any situation would've been beyond stupid-- Not that you would know out of experience or anything!  You had to know at least something to approach with such calmness. You hadn't even acted defensive or cautious. Then again, had you ever? You hated faking fear. You couldn't help but take your eyes off him for a moment, directing them to the floor. Mind racing for ways that you could help make up to him your foolish question. It just felt like something natural to ask. You're such an idiot, Micah. Your stupid words were just like those of someone asking if someone was okay with their house being burned to the ground. Of course it wasn't okay.

"Maybe I-"

He'd cut you off again, this time leaving you more unsettled.  'Steps have already been taken and decided in what comes next.' That specific line made you..feel nauseous. Was there really nothing you could do? No, you wouldn't believe that. There had to be something. You were too persistent to give up just because fate was written. Who decided fate was the boss anyway?

You were pulled out of your wondering by him standing up, your eyes quickly flashing towards him, it now being your turn to flinch.  He wouldn't truly do anything to harm someone so defenseless, would he-? Sure, he'd been called some..things in your time of rumor searching, but he wasn't the type to truly hurt an innocent. Right again, it seemed. He was turning to leave. No! That was even worse! If he wasn't here he could get into more trouble, and you wouldn't be able to stop him.

"Wait-!"

His calling you out on your status didn't go unnoticed by your previous drinking partners, but all their questions were ignored by you- you were too busy chasing after your possibly dangerous new '''friend'''. It was as if you hadn't even given yourself time to think. You didn't have time, you had to help, even if those impulsive actions would end in you getting hurt, you would risk it. It was better you then him. He'd had so many people who relied on him. Even just by listening into others talks it was clear. You had to do something. You ALWAYS had to do something. You never had the ability to just stand back and let whatever happens happen.

The second you were outside, you called out to him another time, eyes glancing around the half empty streets. Already it seems he'd rushed off. This could take a while. You hoped it didn't get any darker too quick, you had no form of light other then stars, and whatever lamps had been placed around. Surely he couldn't have gotten too far away. It was only moments that you'd been separated, right?

It took,,,a while admittedly to finally find your way to the docks. Some part of you had first assumed he'd have returned to the palace. But that was clearly the complete wrong way. You raced here as fast as you could though.  The nauseated feeling growing with every second you couldn't find him, thoughts running through your head of ways that someone could possibly harm themselves. The ocean was a clear thought.  God, had running always been this difficult? Before you knew it, you'd had no choice but to take a break, your heavy breath as you attempt to calm your heart being the only thing you could hear, aside from the typical noise of the docks that you'd grown accustomed to.

There was though, something that stood out. You really did have a keen ear for pain, didn't you?

You turn towards what you thought was an empty allyway, the scent of blood what you'd smelt before, and written off as nothing special, somehow feeling more..clear as you noticed another person. At first, you hadn't even noticed who it was, your only concern was checking on them to work out if the fresh smell was from them or just something you'd been imagining.  And, of course, thanks to the darkness, it took until you were fairly close before you'd seen what was going on. And even then the only thing that really made you catch on was a very convenient flash of light against the steel of his blade..You clearly didn't understand fully //what//  he was doing,  but that didn't mean you could stand by and let it happen! Especially since all you'd known was your minds racing of bad thoughts. Another impulsive move, against someone who you'd had no chance in really stopping but would try. Maybe even just knowing someone else was there would stop him. Maybe you'd end up getting punched in the face. Either way- it was worth the risk.

"Stop! You don't have to do that--"

You hadn't finished talking before your hands gripped onto his arm, using whatever strength you had to at least halt his actions. It was pretty useless, you knew you couldn't really do anything. But you kept trying, even so.  “Please, I don’t want you to die!”

[royallytwistednauts-blog]

@reaper-code

If it wasn’t one thing, it was another and while Graviir wouldn’t normally care, the scale of everything that had just happened, was massive. It should have just been another day of reporting into Constantin… Marquis had noticed something was wrong awhile back and while Constantin had brushed it off, assured them he was adjusting to the new settings and local cuisine, it seemed to grow worse with every visit. And now, it was had become the worst. 

“The fucking Malichor.” Was all he could mumble beneath his breath as they all saw the contents of the vial the crow held up before the light emanating from the window. Marquis sounding so desperate in thinking that it could be a mistake - Constantine briefly losing it as his cousin tried to console him. Vasco and Siora stood at the back of the room, waiting to be able to rejoin the three of them - and soon they did as Constantin calmed down and wanted something else to focus his mind on. 

It was a brief moment of peace of peace, the lot of them ready to get on with what they had originally set out to do when Kurt burst through the door. Graviir nearly found his own moment of relief as his old friend walked in, but something was off- Everything from his outfit to the lack of eye contact… Then the soldiers followed in. Siora was cornered, Vasco made a move and the butt of a gun connected with his head and he went down. Graviir too made to move but Kurt was already signaling to raise guns and Constantin’s voice broke through the haze that was quickly settling over his mind. 

“Kurt, what is the meaning of this?!”

But he didn’t reply, all Graviir could here was ‘Ready’ and “Aim.”

“Kurt, whatever’s going on, this isn’t the answer!”

Words found him before thoughts did. This wasn’t Kurt, this was someone else and even with everything Graviir and Kurt had been through–

“Fight with honor!”

Marquis growled, and Graviir shot him a look. Sure, Marquis could hold his own– But it wasn’t fear for Marquis that suddenly made his chest ache. Swords were drawn and the two danced around the room, everyone on edge. Graviir could only think that it should have been him taking on Kurt. Not Marquis. Not as his brother or the Legate, or Constantin’s dear cousin. There was too much to lose in this. 

A mistake was made, brief, but Graviir had seen it as Marquis moved behind Kurt and held the blade at the man’s throat. His own breath hitched, he knew what would come next, what had to come next. 

Just like that, Marquis backed off, as if giving Kurt once last chance. Words were exchanged, something about a coup, words of being proud-

“Kurt! No don-!”

Graviir saw it coming before they did, they heard the shot, but Grav felt it, deep in his bones. The soldiers were dropping their weapons and backing away, Marquis was turning on the group, shouting plans and all Graviir could do was drop beside Kurt’s body, watch as blood flowed and pooled around his head. “I should’ve been there, should have kept a better eye-”

“We can mourn later.” Vasco whispered, a hand on the man’s shoulder. He didn’t know Kurt or Graviir as well as he knew Marquis, and as much as Graviir wanted to throw him aside, to get angry and kill everyone in his path, another thought had taken over him, but it would have to wait. They needed to handle the conspirators of the Coup first. 

***

The lieutenants had been captured, Torsten had gotten away and one of the two allied cities had been saved as well, for the moment, it was over. Constantine and his entourage was safe, and before long, He, Marquis and the others would be making plans to free the third city. Finally, the last of the information had been delivered… Marquis and Graviir were born on the island. The news had his Marquis hard, and it wasn’t until now Graviir was truly processing it. He left them.

Drink was the only thing on his mind. He cared not that he was covered in blood or that every bit of him ached in ways he couldn’t completely comprehend. It was a bad dream, a nightmare that needed to end. Would end. Kurt wasn’t the only one who was going to get to be free from their lifelong torments and pain. 

He ordered a drink, paid to keep the bottle and plopped down in the furthest corner he could find. For the moment, all eyes were on him. Good thing he wasn’t a Legate, this would look bad. But he was the muscle, he always had been. Had the scars to prove it and now he’d drink then find a way to end it. 

[reaper-code]

[ ✰: "ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵗᶦᵐᵉ ᶦˢ ᵖʳᵉᶜᶦᵒᵘˢ. ˢᵖᵉⁿᵈ ᶦᵗ ʷᶦˢᵉˡʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷᶦᵗʰ ᵗʰᵒˢᵉ ʷʰᵒ ᶜᵃʳᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ʸᵒᵘ." ]                                         𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐇                        ───────────────────

"𝙳𝚒𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛? 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚒𝚗 𝚐𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚐 𝚐𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚘𝚛'𝚜 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎." "ᴀ ғᴜʟʟ ᴄᴏᴜᴘ ᴀᴛᴛᴇᴍᴘᴛ? ɪᴍᴀɢɪɴᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ." "'𝚜 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚐𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚐𝚎- 𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚘 𝙸'𝚟𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚍. 𝙲𝚘𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚔𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚖𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚗."

It was times like this you were half glad to be written off easily as a commoner. Your bright hair masked by the hood of your cape, along with the more..fine clothes you were wearing. It was so easy to get into the minds of 'drinking partners' when they thought you were lower class. No high standards to live up to. Though by the third drink, most were willing to spread rumors to  just about anyone. This wasn't a rumor though, was it? No, you knew all about it.

The second the..'alarms' were sounded about the attack on the governor, your family was told. Protect the nobles and all that, right? Not that you were quite up to the title. The rest of your family had fled to safety and were still safely hidden away somewhere. But you? You were always way too invested in situations like this. You could have easily turned heel and ran with the rest of them, but what of those that needed you? What of the people who suffered because of this situation? Your guilt could never let that happen. So you stayed. Maybe even catching glances of a fight between the legate and the captain of the coin guard. Of course you remembered the fight, you remembered everything. Impressive, you had to say. He'd ended things so quickly; Your eyes were more drawn to another De Sardet. The so called muscle of the family, you'd always found him rather aggressive, not that you'd ever had need to approach any of the family yourself. Today? he'd seemed the most off out of both of them. Less invested in the action, as if it was all just auto-pilot. It unnerved you to say the least, thinking about what he could do in that state. Did he know his limits? who not to kill? It wasn't as though you were strong enough to stand up to him if worst came to be.

Unfortunately, your attention was needed elsewhere, they weren't the only ones in danger, or hurt. All you could do was hope neither of them were killed.  The next you'd heard of the man who'd half caught your eye was when he'd stumbled into the bar you'd been catching rumors in. He looked-- and smelt-- like death. Blood from who knows how many stained his clothes, and dripped from his face. What if some of that was his blood? Not only that, the blank expression on his face as he walked past the staring customers was something that could have ripped out your heart, he looked like he'd lost all will to continue. But no one else would have seen that, would they? They'd just see a blood soaked maniac, acting like it was normal to ignore everyone in the room. Your eye for weakness would probably be the death of you one day- But not today.

After a while of contemplating (and noting the new silence that had consumed the previously lively bar), your mind decided for you that you weren't going to let him suffer alone. Not without trying at the very least. You'd seen that same look in so many eyes before  so many now dead eyes would you even be you if you'd leave him alone like that? You changed specifically to stop this.

You stood slowly, ending whatever conversation you'd been having before turning your attention back to the depressing mess of a human now hidden in the darkest corner. Fitting, unfortunately.

"De Sardet?"

Shamefully you'd never been close enough to catch their first names. Not all nobles know the top of the food chain, after all. Specifically those who prefer the poor to the stuck up types their court was full of.

"You don't mind if I sit with you, do you?"

It was pretty much a one sided question, you were going to sit with him whether he liked it or not. In fact! Look at that, you'd already pulled out the nearest stool to him and sat yourself down, finally removing the hood from your face, showing him a light, friendly smile on your lips. You weren't quite sure how to start conversation with him. Ask him about the blood? Make it known you half know the situation? Ask what he was so gloomy over? Just sitting here wasn't going to do very much, that you know from prior experience. Neither was saying the wrong thing. And he'd probably not be very pleased by a complete stranger sitting with him in the first place. You weren't like him- if he got angry with you he could easily knock you out. You could barely even hold a sword- let alone see. Just, keep the conversation civil, Micah. You were good at doing that. Something about a calm voice, who knows.

After a moment of just kind of- sitting there, you reach into your pocket and pull out a tissue, placing it down on the table in front of him. Sure, it wasn't exactly going to clean up a whole lot of the blood, but surely getting some off his face would be less,,uncomforting. Perhaps the simple gesture would help him snap back  into reality even. Maaaybe it was a little bit of a test to see how lost in his mind he was, but if you didn't know how could you help him.

"Here, you have blood on your face." You paused slightly at the 'on' line, drawing it out unintentionally. And the rest of you. You thought to yourself, but you doubted he was in  the mood for humor right now, probably best kept to yourself.

"You seem troubled. Is there anything I can do?"

[reaper-code]

me out here following Dragon age roleplay accounts like the crossover obsessed cretin i am, cryin about how cool all their accounts look   

[reaper-code]

Made a really, really bad edit with shepard to give an idea of what she looks like post war   i dont like it but I was too lazy to actually draw lmao

[bowlofjuiceandtears]

there’s nothing you or i can do, so let the stars fall

[brown-sugar-milk-tea]

space themed icons, part 1, free to use! like or reblog if using

[pearls-and-obsidian]

You look so fragile hanging on to me, trying to make a sense of the incoherable, wishing I resembled a normal human.