ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ sᴀɪᴅ ʏᴏᴜʀ ɢᴏᴏᴅʙʏᴇs?

ᴛʜɪs ɪsɴ’ᴛ ᴀ ɴɪɢʜᴛᴍᴀʀᴇ. ɪᴛ’s ᴀ ᴍɪʀʀᴏʀ.

[simulamortem]

hi ! this is an 18+ indie rp blog for REVENANT of the game APEX LEGENDS. I’m mutuals only & multiverse. be forewarned that due to the nature of the character, this blog will have recurring mentions of death and canon-typical graphic violence.

if you’re a new mutual and you’d like to interact: 》 send a prompt, they never expire! 》 pick up an open 》 or throw me an IM, starter, or ic ask!

see here for how I integrate Revenant’s rework into the blog.

I read everyone’s pages & rules before following. thank you for reading mine !

carrd  |  about  |  rules  |  verses  |  promo

[chvtterbcx]

bloodhound gave a single nod, showing that they had been listening as they searched the drawers for the forceps they needed. at least he still had sensation in his limbs, even if he was in discomfort. "we will remedy that,” they assured, turning to give him another innocent look-over. he had shrapnel, well... all over him. trapped in his mane, embedded in his limbs…

bloodhound certainly had their work cut out for them.

they considered, albeit only briefly, putting both of their gloves back on. instead they settled for only putting one on, wanting to maintain a good grip on the forceps with their bare hand.

the hunter sat down on the stool and decided to start with picking the shrapnel out of his arms. they would save his mane for last, as it would be both the easiest and most difficult area to pick shrapnel out of him. they took one of his wrists into one hand and pulled it a little closer to themself. they started by searching for all of the biggest and most visible pieces to pick out first.

"you could not have found entertainment elsewhere?" they were teasing, though their dry tone made it a little difficult to discern whether they were completely joking or not as they focused on the task at hand. bloodhound slowly began to accrue a very small pile of shrapnel in their gloved palm, which they emptied out onto the small table with a quiet clatter every now and then. "you would have been destroyed if i had not come."

destroyed. the word alone tasted acrid in their mouth, like venom on their tongue. he could never die, not really, but it looked like death to them. they had grown fond enough of revenant that they now cared greatly about his wellbeing. they frowned upon his self-sabotaging nature of doing things that could get him killed, like going on solo missions of his own. he was capable, certainly. but even he could reach a point of exhaustion where he could be overwhelmed by enemies after a while.

"just because you cannot perish does not mean you should be so... careless, with each shell you inhabit." the disapproval was evident in their even tone this time. quieter then, they murmured, "heimskur maður..."

[simulamortem]

His arm was limp, taken easily in hand. Revenant watched as shards of glass and steel were selected out of his arm, stuck with the greatest frequency in the crimson synthskin. Tugging out the larger pieces felt sharp and hot, but it was BRIEF and he was used to it. "No..." Hard to tell whether he was answering their question or the statement that followed. "Just the shell." Destroyed had too much an air of finality to be applied to him. But then, Bloodhound had always had more appreciation for his craftsmanship than he did.

Less so for his cable management. Even newer models were only somewhat improved over his default. He had never been built with the intention he would be opened up or repaired.

"Always more where that came from," he mumbled, claws TWITCHING at a particularly stubborn piece of shrapnel. There was less of the stuff that had managed to embed in his metal, and what was there was bigger, easier to find and get a hold of. Not so for the beast's mane, which was littered with tiny shards stuck in the blood-encrusted fur. But they shone where a light was cast on them, and most could be shaken loose with some strategic brushing.

[ang3riss]

quick Rev banner sketch

[simulamortem]

@deathchasing : DAZE 》scenario starters

A delicate pull of the sheets here, a careful tuck there. Programming didn't account for ways to tie someone up securely, just experience, but he'd never done it with bedsheets before, surprisingly enough. He had no way to tell if what he had done would work at all until halfsuit woke and tried to MOVE.

He had used the Legend's own unconscious stirrings in combination with the sheets to see just how thoroughly entangled Silva could manage to get in his sleep.

Now, it looked like he was starting to wake, where he would find the beast clung to the ceiling overhead, skull turned like an owl's to regard the bed below, twin moons STARING through the dark.

[deathchasing]

sorry I haven’t been around! been doing a lot this summer and haven’t been online nearly as much (which is a good thing)! after I get home in a few days I won’t be traveling again until December so maybe I’ll find a prompt meme or two to throw out there :>

in the meantime check out this picture of me holding @simulamortem’s snake and also a gay spaghetti

[naboocrowned]

❝ ah, ah, easy there, ❞ the clone chides the minute he observes revenant moving with the crowd. geez, this thing really didn't like people touching his stuff now, did he? ❝ her majesty will be fine. she's got her girls with her. ❞

the lobby had significantly cleared out but that didn't mean it had been emptied. guests yet lingered to wrap up their conversations, take last minute comlink calls while staff made their rounds to collect abandoned drinks and refill the glasses of those that remained. and of course there were the permanent presence of STORMTROOPERS that was seemingly in every corner of every room of every BUILDING on this godsforsaken planet.

❝ last i heard from the general, he went to figure out where the hell reba went, and last i heard from reba, she went to figure what the hell happened with the queensguard, ❞ snow's voice was quiet, but the exhaustion and frustration was evident in every word he emphasized. ❝ i would love nothing more than to let you go play guard dog but we're not exactly gonna get much done tonight without the general, and i'm not keen on sittin' around waitin'. ❞

one of the stormtrooper's head finally swivels to the left and right, revealing snow's disguise.

❝ this place has security rooms in one the basement levels, my guess is they've taken the captain there, and i have the clearance to get us there. ❞

[simulamortem]

He stopped, but felt his system BRISTLING. Had Amidala had security with her, too? But Revenant didn't dare utter it aloud, as if fate might overhear; waiting in the wings to rip one more thing away from him.

It was a suitable enough alternative to investigate where Arryne and Typho had gone. Better than being stuck IDLE. His robes could even be drawn up and bound in specific arrangements to allow for climbing and combat, though in the case of the latter he was more likely to shed them altogether.

A slight turn of the simulacrum's glided face where he fixed on Snow's gesturing. "Us?" Only one of them really had clearance. Easy to imagine there would be more troopers posted along the way - Revenant wondered if he would need to be taken into custody to get through with Snow, or if the clone had another idea.

[chvtterbcx]

bloodhound would personally see to it that nobody else touched revenant. if this ended up being out of their perview, they would sooner force a transfer from one shell to another than allow another individual to lay their hands upon revenant.

another passive roll of their shoulders and neck when the simulacrum finally sat on one of the operating beds, stretching out the muscles slowly as they finally gave him a proper once-over. there were knives sticking out of revenant that they hadn't taken notice of in their hurried extraction of him, scorch and scratch marks along one side of his pale faceplate where his optic had been broken...

this had to be painful. certainly couldn't be comfortable, at least.

they leaned a little closer to his curled horns as they removed the insulated gloves from their hands, examining the horns for any cracks or chips from when his skull had been slammed into the wall. bloodhound shrugged off their tactical jacket next, laying it flat atop a stool that they'd brought closer to the bed. they pulled the sleeves of the sweater underneath halfway up their strong forearms before stopping, just so the material wouldn't catch on any of his components later on.

might as well start with the easiest parts before moving onto the more intricate ones and finer details, they decided.

bloodhound circled the bed to stand behind him, planting one hand down onto his shoulder. the other hand wound around the handle of one of the two knives stuck in his back. "be still." that gentle warning was the only one they gave before they pulled the knife out of his back. it hadn't been plunged as deep as the second one, but they would make short work of the second one. bloodhound set the first one aside on a small table, then prepared to pull out the second one. they repeated their quiet warning before tugging that one free as well, though it required a little more force to be pulled out of the simulacrum. it made a light clatter as they set it down against the first weapon.

"do you still feel all of your limbs?" bloodhound circled back around to begin searching the drawers for a pair of forceps to pick the shrapnel out of him with. "how is sensation to you in this moment?" they were trying not to make this feel so clinical, but bloodhound needed to gather more information about how he was feeling — or, maybe, not feeling. they knew how he looked, but they had to make sure that there were no deeper issues when it came to anything tactile.

[simulamortem]

His gaze tracked their hands. Would have thought they'd want to keep the gloves ON, faced with shrapnel and possible wayward currents.

For all the beast had endured, his horns were intact; one only had a crack toward its pointed tip. Revenant hadn't noticed. His one optic roamed up the scarred skin and capable muscle of the other Legend's exposed arm.

He was normally good about not staring, but not today. Then they'd disappeared behind him. The plate of his shoulder twitched at their touch. Nothing more than a grunt and a minor flinch when the first knife was pulled free; a slightly more pained wheeze at the second, the simulacrum's frame going STIFF and hunched, joints locked up as a fresh ache burned in his circuits.

But it passed, and he relaxed again.

"Yes," quieter than he'd meant, before having to reflect on their second question. A mechanical body had a much different variety of sensations than a meat body, and he couldn't remember ever having to describe them to anyone before. "... Stings," Revenant said finally. "Inside. Like when your... leg falls asleep, and then it hurts waking it up." Tingling, and firing through the whole of him. Not dissimilar to the aftershock of an arc star.

[chvtterbcx]

"we have returned to the compound," they answered while they took hold of one of revenant's arms, bracing themself for his weight as they helped him to stand. the compound probably wasn't where he wanted to be right now, but it had what his shell would need for repairs including an on-site technician — but revenant seemed vocally adverse to being touched by anyone else, so bloodhound assumed that they would be the one making the repairs. at the very least, they had the parts and tools that they'd need here.

when the ramp folded down to allow them to step out, bloodhound carefully led revenant in the direction of the compound. they had landed on the asphalt just outside, so it wasn't a long walk between the dropship and the doors leading into the building.

"i will repair what is possible mittself," assured bloodhound, halting their steps for only a moment to adjust the hold they had on the simulacrum. "but if i am to repair you, then you are to treat this shell with care." as much care as one could treat a shell built to withstand damage, that is. in this particular instance, they just didn't want him going on a suicide mission with the mindset that he could just enter a shiny new shell if he was forcibly decommissioned. it would be a waste of his time and theirs. the beast's physical integrity would never be as strong as it had been fresh off the belt, and it would hold visible reminders of his fight today, but they were going to put in the effort to try and fix it anyway. "you understand, já?"

[simulamortem]

He HESITATED. Vaguely remembering their mention of a technician. He wasn't in the mood for an Apex technician. But for the time being, he worked to his feet with the hunter's support, allowed himself to be led off the ship and toward campus.

Wasn't in the mood for any of the other Legends, either. They respected Bloodhound too much to interfere, but he knew most of them would frown on Bloodhound's attempt to aid him, no matter the reasoning.

And, of course, there was one Legend who wouldn't let them pass without remark.

But the compound was quiet, other than the sound of someone cooking in the kitchen; the pair were able to pass by out of view and seemed to go unnoticed. "Deal," Revenant agreed easily, until hesitating again, stopped stubbornly, when they'd passed by the hunter's room. HE DIDN'T LIKE THE INFIRMARY. But there were more tools, better lighting there, and he knew that was what Bloodhound sought.

"... No one else touches me," he said, before finally continuing on.

Here, too, was quiet. There was one attendant to check them in, and just one medical engineer on site at present, but the attendant was discouraged from calling for them. Instead, the Legends helped themselves to one of the operating beds, where Revenant sat to start - after having tracked soot and dried flakes of blood across the pale linoleum. Removing the knives and SHRAPNEL would probably be the easiest part.

[starrstrvk]

drew a mini rev

he's so angry >:(

inspired by kurimanju_exe on X

[chvtterbcx]

bloodhound wasn't going to entertain what revenant had to say, until he dared to utter his final sentence. it made them pause, their jaw working behind their respirator.

"i am not 'playing hard to get'," they retorted. whatever "playing hard to get" meant. they weren't very knowledgeable with certain english metaphors or sayings. no matter what it meant, they were certain it didn't apply.

we could be covered in blood together if you stopped playing hard to get. they didn't hate the imagery that sentence pulled into their mind; it was mildly tantalizing. bloodhound, with their scarred hands covered in the blood of their enemies, holding one dripping limb out toward the beast like an offering. revenant, with his blood-coated metal maw opening to make way for a hungry black tongue to tease its way along their bloodied hand, and—

no. they needed to stay annoyed with him right now.

lowering themself down more to become level with his slumped figure, they placed their hands on their knees for stability. “you will see a technician,” they repeated — slower this time, as if revenant hadn't heard them, “and then we will talk.” bloodhound rose to their full stature again, crossing their arms tensely over their chest. they stood there staring at revenant in silence, contemplating as they bit on the tip of their tongue. they wanted to say more, but what use was it? revenant was barely awake, floating in and out of consciousness, and bloodhound didn't want to put further strain on his system by stressing him out.

eventually, they opted to sit themself down one seat away, allowing their emotions to simmer and settle down. for the remaining half hour, if revenant had anything more to say it would go unanswered by bloodhound, who was holding their composure together beside him.

[simulamortem]

"You're a techie," half-murmured in response. "I'll see you. And then we... talk." Sounding as if he'd lost a piece of his sentence in the middle. Scoffing softly as his glow FADED.

He had no awareness of the time that passed, other than that Bloodhound eventually sat - considerate enough to sit on the side where he could still SEE. It could have been minutes. Could have been hours. What roused him most after that was the rattling of the ship as it began to land - clearly not a top of the line model. Revenant had to lean an arm to one side of his seat to stay balanced, growling as the jostling aggravated his headache.

"Where...?" Still on Solace. This ship wasn't built for space. Kings Canyon? Or their hunting lodge in the mountains?

[chvtterbcx]

with a lack of response from revenant as predicted, bloodhound pressed forth. if he needed anything here, he wasn't getting it today.

the dropship was waiting just outside the facility for bloodhound's return with revenant in tow. earlier, they had overheard news of the destruction of the hammond facility as they passed by a television at the compound. bloodhound had to connect very minimal dots in order for them to realize what was the cause of the destruction. they hadn't seen revenant in some time, which wouldn't be unusual if there wasn't havoc being wreaked at a hammond facility in desert lands south of solace city. unhappy, bloodhound had whisked a dropship pilot away to take them to this facility as quickly as possible.

their afternoon had turned into a single-target extraction mission. they didn't have to; revenant was capable, and this almost certainly wasn't the first time he's gone after a hammond facility on his own. bloodhound, however, had grown too fond of revenant to allow his seemingly endless cycle of death-and-resurrection to perpetuate needlessly. they felt he was too careless with his shells. it felt self-destructive, in a sense.

bloodhound humored revenant for only a few seconds when the simulacrum regained his own footing, allowing him to inhale deep and breathe in the aroma of destruction — but they were moving him along again just as quickly. "let us move, quickly. a ship awaits."

the pair eventually made it back onto the dropship. bloodhound settled revenant's slumped form into one of the seats aboard the ship, and the ramp lifted to close when the pair was safely inside. bloodhound gestured for the pilot to take off and bring them back to the compound, and the ship took off. bloodhound didn't immediately sit, though. they rolled their shoulders and straightened their posture to alleviate the dull aches that had formed as they lugged revenant's heavy frame along.

"you live. góðar news." they didn't expect any thanks in return, nor did they want one. "you will see a technician—" and, oh, that technician would fix this shell. they would see to it, as long as it was possible. "—and then we will talk." something foreign was simmering just below the surface of bloodhound's tone, but it was hard to determine exactly what that something was in between their own ragged breaths and tired tone. that something was outweighing the relief within their veins, and it felt uncomfortable beneath their skin.

[simulamortem]

He was pulled again, urged to continue. Stumbled at first, catching his weight on the wall and taking some moments to recover. Moved SLOW and shambling. Revenant kept having to be pulled along to keep from stopping - or from getting distracted, once they were outside and his remaining optic fixed on an evacuating ship at another wing of the building.

The simulacum had to be half wrestled to get him onto Bloodhound's waiting ride.

But there, he dropped into a seat without trouble, slumping, joints clicking with released tension as he rested back. His hand lifted, ghosting hesitatingly over the scorched side of his face at the phantom sensation of warm blood down his brow. His senses were HAZY, in and out, and he didn't catch much of what was said until the last bit - pale glow shifting for the hunter then.

"... Talk?"

His voice distant, and marred by more electronic feedback than usual. Chuckling low and TEASING, "Am I in trouble?" His glow flickered again. "Y'know we could be covered in blood together if you stopped playing hard to get."

[chvtterbcx]

bloodhound strained to hold up his weight as it suddenly collapsed into their arms, stumbling slightly in the process. "skítur—" they grunted at the impact; they hadn't been anticipating him to collapse onto them in the form of partial deadweight. they sucked in a trembling breath as they steadied themself enough to support his weight, readjusting their limbs so that one of revenant's arms was slung over their shoulders and their arm was hooked around his upper body.

when they stood completely, it was with some struggle. they were a hunter, used to lugging large beasts back to the village, but it always took them a moment to adjust to the weight.

"i did not... come all this way... just to allow for you to perish now," they commented through grit teeth, beginning to take steps in the direction they had just come from. bloodhound was determined to bring him back to the compound, where he would be able to be seen by a technician who could run diagnostics and assess just how much damage there really was and determine if his shell was salvageable.

there was a lot that they could say, a lot that they wanted to say, but a lot that they bit back solely because they knew that revenant wasn't likely to give much of a response in his exhausted and run-down state. bloodhound saved most of their thoughts for later, deciding to place their energy into getting him out of here. "what did you come for?" the words came out harsh due to the physical weight they were taking on. "do you have what you came for?" perhaps he didn't come for something physical. it was more likely that he came for emotional reasons, but they needed to be sure he hadn't come in search of something specific; they would not be turning back into the building for anything.

[simulamortem]

Optics flickered soft and weary. He was in and out consciousness, barely aware that his weight was being PULLED by a warm body. Aware of some words but not where they came from, half mistaking them for his own thoughts.

He could taste blood. Couldn't remember now what else he'd come for. There had been some shipment he'd been watching. Numbers he'd seen. Wanted to make a mess of it. Routine stuff, for him.

At some point on the way out, it was the smell of smoke that roused him - not to cough, but to breathe it in, vocoder inhaling deeply as the simulacrum regained some of his own footing, stood still as he lifted his head like a scenthound, still having to lean hard on the other Legend.

The intoxicating scent of DESTRUCTION.

[simulamortem]

Character Headcanon Generator mark if the HC is wrong or right

❌ Revenant sings in the shower.

✅ Revenant is a great artist.

✅ Revenant gets road rage.

✅ Revenant can beat you up and will.

❌ Revenant knocks people over by hugging them.

❌ If Revenant was presented with an intergalactic portal, he would enter it without question.

❌ Revenant nearly drowned in a river as a child.

❌ Revenant does not know how to read.

❌ Revenant has an incredible long-term memory but an awful short-term memory.

❌ Revenant is constantly singing for no reason.

tagged by: @piperafterdark tagging: @deathchasing @naboocrowned @chvtterbcx for bh! @kxllerblond

[lizzieforbes]

“men who play god will die like one. a myth barely remembered and their names but a whisper.”

— they will burn and burn and burn and then they will be nothing and the world will continue to turn // a.m (via ginnys)

[chvtterbcx]

bloodhound’s boots pounded against the hard floor with every step they took. heavy breaths rasped through their respirator vents, the hilt of both knives clutched tight in their fists as they rushed down the hall.

they had just taken out a spectre of their own when they watched another grab revenant by the horn from down the hall. watching the simulacrum, who was in rough shape, being unable to avoid the grasp out of sheer exhaustion sent a rush of something fierce coursing through bloodhound’s veins. protectiveness, of its most feral nature. a bestial yell escaped the hunter as they closed the distance between themself and the spectre.

they were practically seeing red.

bloodhound attacked quickly and efficiently, holding the spectre by the side of its angular head as they plunged one knife deep into its neck. they could retrieve that later. what mattered more to them was keeping the simulacrum alive. they knew he couldn’t truly die, but they wouldn’t let his shell expire just because it was disposable.

they had no time to check on revenant save for a brief once-over of the bestial shell he inhabited, spotting movement in their peripheral vision. bloodhound’s head snapped in the direction of the next spectre, their grip on the knife tightening. they ran towards the knife-wielding spectre.

they closed the distance enough to enter hand-to-hand combat with the machine, which took a swipe at bloodhound with its own knife. they reared back, but the tip of the blade caught on the tough fabric of their sleeve and tore. it missed their flesh, but the torn fabric was just as offensive to the hunter. bloodhound feigned a stab towards its neck and instead retrieved the axe from their side. the spectre caught their knife-wielding hand, so they swung with their other and aimed for the side of its head, just to disorient it before it could stab out toward them. spectres were effective and could be lethal, but they were still just machines. the sickening CLACK! of the flat of their axe meeting the metal surface only fueled bloodhound, who watched as it staggered for a moment. they took this window of opportunity to knock it to the floor with a firm boot to the chest.

the next few attacks were desperate attempts from the spectre. bloodhound knelt above the machine to prevent it from standing, but it was still putting up a fight; nothing that they couldn’t handle, though. bloodhound fought back like they craved bloodshed, each movement harsh and unforgiving. the scuffle ended when bloodhound finally raised their axe high above their head, then brought it down until the blade could pierce the tough metal. they repeated this action several times, cutting deeper into the machine's head with each swing until the metal was thoroughly concaved and curled and sparks were spitting from the spectre's "open wound".

when it had ceased all movement and the light left its thin optics, bloodhound heaved deep breaths and rose up to their feet. they sheathed both their knife and their axe in their respective holsters, glancing around to ensure the pair were completely alone. when content with their lack of enemies, they turned until they were looking in revenant's direction.

he had certainly seen better days.

bloodhound, still heaving harsh breaths, approached the exhausted simulacrum. the way he was hunched against the wall made him look smaller than usual. now that they had a moment to look at him, they noted all of his visible damage, a small frown seated upon scarred lips. they briefly wondered how bad any internal damage he had might've been.

fetching the other knife from the spectre on the ground, they breathily asked, "can you walk?" his legs looked fine, but he looked worn out beyond belief. one hand reached up to gingerly cup underneath revenant's maw, turning his head this way and that to get a better look at the facial damage. "...i will assist you," they decided. bloodhound extended one arm out to support his weight if he chose to take their aid. quieter then, and perhaps a little firm, they added: "auðvelt, i have you — you will not perish while i am here. accept my aid; do not be heimskur."

[simulamortem]

A TRAIL of other mechanical corpses lay in the simulacrum's wake, cluttering up the hall. The space stank of machine heat and composite oil. It seemed likely that whatever he had set out to do here, he had accomplished it.

Bloodhound must have seen the smoke and known. WHAT ELSE would have been responsible for the destruction of a Hammond facility?

By the time they faced him again, he was only aware they'd asked something before his jaw was taken, turned for examination without fight. Assist him. Normally that would be easy enough... but Revenant knew they hadn't gone through this trouble just to kill him.

Vocoder scoffed, soft and rasping, but before he'd managed any kind of quip and before Bloodhound had even finished their sentence, the beast slumped forward, COLLAPSING into the hunter's arms if they managed to catch his weight and otherwise knocking them to the floor. This shell was noticeably heavier than his default - but still nowhere near Pathfinder's, either. The MRVN's lean frame belied his weighing more than an arctic bear.

By contrast, Revenant was lighter than he looked, built with stealth in mind, more comparable to a prowler or big cat.

[5hmallow]

[simulamortem]

@chvtterbcx : " DEFEND :  for one muse to save the other from one or multiple assailants. " — for Hound ? <3 》scenario starters

The beast could take a beating.

Built to withstand heavy artillery, with improved power and other upgraded components, it was a force to be reckoned with, and one not easily PUT DOWN. It made Revenant's other shells seem fragile by comparison, and bullets were still known to bounce off them in places.

His shadows made it all the more formidable. A NIGHTMARE clad in dread and darkness.

Now, they'd been spent. Weary smoke ebbed from the simulacrum's seams. One pale lens had been broken, leaving the socket dark, his skull scraped and scorched on that side. Two knives stuck out of his back. Both had tried to zap his internal components. Only one had managed to pierce deep enough, and just barely, shorting itself out in the attempt.

But he could still feel the burn, aching, dizzied. Too sluggish now to react in time when a Spectre grabbed him by the horn and slammed his skull into the wall. A second before impact, he could hear another's heavy steps from the hall behind him.

Then a familiar, BESTIAL cry ahead. Made his wiring ignite like a bolt of lightning.

A hoarse growl, and the attacking Spectre was dropped by a knife in its neck, sparking and twitching. Freed, Revenant slumped slightly against the wall, barely staying on his feet. Bloodhound moved in a blur past him, another knife in hand intended for the next machine.

He wished he had the energy to turn to WATCH.