#[message delayed]

[alliancepaladin]

[alliancepaladin]

[ ICT: Any plans for the future? ]

A frown. It’s been years since he has actually planned for something. But he knows his goal, knows what he wants to do, to be, in the distant future. While he joined the military earlier than he expected to, his childhood dream is still present in his mind - it’s just that he realizes what responsibility it would entail."Plans?" He laughs, unsure how to answer the question. “Sure, Marry a nice girl, settle down on some colony, have two and a half kids." He winks, grinning widely to downplay his uncertainty.

[alliancepaladin]

Headcanon #3 - Alexei's biotics

[alliancepaladin]

[ Age 16: What's it like with the Alliance? ]

He groans, resisting the urge to rub over the skin on his neck. It’s still raw, the surgery having taken place only weeks ago and it makes him feel nervous - he’s know aware of the raw power simmering beneath his skin, aware of the foreign object now linked to his nervous system - it puts him on edge.But not everything is bad he thinks, a smile creeping onto his face as he looks at his newly-acquired omni-tool. He has always been interested in math and tech and the Alliance allows him to utilize his abilities."Great." He says, his smile widening slightly. “Basic training is a piece of cake. Nothin’ I didn’t expect." He winces, observing goosebumps on his skin build. “Still haven’t gotten the hang out of my biotics yet, but they say it takes time."

[ferrouscorvid]

[Message]

Mr. Vakarian,

This one has been pressed by one of its servers to send you this so you would not suffer from being unable to see the glorious result of a single magazine, scissors, one marker, spare paper, some glue and five minutes of boredom. It attempted to sooth Rose by giving her work a proud place stuck to a refrigerator, but she insisted that the funder of the Coffee Death Matches deserved a chance to see it for himself. She also wishes me to pass on the message 'that coffee bean guy is awesome'.

Awesome was meant to be underlined as well, but it cannot find an option for that.

In case you have not met before, Rose is the single human server at Hibata and was in the videos as one of the individuals using the airguns.

Sincerely,

A. T'Kent

[Message has [1] Attached file.]

[ferrouscorvid]

At the touch of love everyone becomes a poet—Plato

This was not Aurelia’s experience. It was true that the words came; in fact there was no way to stop them. Each thought that brushed against her love blossomed into pathways upon dividing pathways constructed lines dedicated in her honor. Aurelia had lost hours to contemplating the beauty of her face, the grace of her actions and strength of character. The daydreams proved beyond all training that Aurelia had the ability to string pretty phrases together. The problem lay when she tried to move them from her mind into reality.

The thought she might be rejected wasn’t considered until much later, long after she’d examined every other reason she might stop herself from speaking. The rule prohibiting a romantic relationship with a client did not apply, and there were no rules against connecting with another follower. There was no significant other to offend by inappropriate advances, or potential drama by having the same feelings as another person. There was no reason, what so ever, for why Aurelia should not express her feelings.

Yet, even when she attempted to pen the storm of praise crowding her mind down, the words froze and hung about her disjointed. Aurelia knew what she felt, it was undeniable, but she could never express it; give it life beyond her beating heart. All the training under the Consort, her years of practice of soothing others and finding the right way to say anything deserted her. That disgrace compounded her frustration after several attempts to rectify the situation, until she had to accept that what stilled the words and pulled them deeper within herself was nerves.

Nelyna was older, beautiful and much more experienced. What could Aurelia offer? She who was barely an adult? Her fledgling talents meant little when held next to others who changed the mood of a room with a word or who lifted hearts with the single meaningful glance. No matter what kind things a client might tell her, Aurelia never felt particularly special.

In the end, Aurelia realized, well after the attack on the Citadel, she had never given the person that meant so much to her the chance to decide for herself.

[ferrouscorvid]

[I know next to nothing about the asari, and I still ship this. That is all.]

[ferrouscorvid]

Let the End Disturb None

[Please refer here for the inspiring tumblr post/picture.]

Aurelia jerked into wakefulness, springing away from her comfortable cocoon of downy blankets. The dying syllables of a scream fell out of her open mouth barely louder than a whisper. Glancing around to find familiar surroundings, the pictures of her families on the bedside table, cream colored walls decorated with navy blue swirls and the painting of a storm over Kahje, diffused the edge of her terror but couldn’t dispel it. Scant years ago, this apartment either did not exist or was a burning wreck and she could imagine the dead bodies of the previous owners strewn about her. Her dream may have even incorporated those images.

With a shuddering breath, Aurelia swung her bare feet out of the bed and began a wobbling path towards her coffee machine. She wasn’t yet convinced the walls of her apartment wouldn’t be ripped away like paper by a reaper, but she wouldn’t die trapped between sleep and wakefulness.  

After fumbling with a cup and the machine, the asari noticed the plain unassuming book sitting on the counter. With trembling reach, she touched the worn cover and spread her fingers across its face before drawing it close. Her mind connected it to both dream and waking world which made it the most concrete item around her. As she flipped it open and threw its pages, she found the quote that formed the theme of tonight’s nightmare.

That impossible sound that grated against the back of her mind, and how it silenced the cacophony of suffering across swaths of the known universe. Proud, brilliant and wonderful worlds reduced to rubble and all of its inhabitants rendered nothing but bodies decorating a ruined land. No cheerful greetings, days enjoying others presence, not even gasps of defiant rejection as everything burned down around them. Nothing but stagnant air cut by the movements of the aptly named reapers.

A cheerful chime came from the coffee machine and Aurelia absently took her cup with her off hand. Finding what gave the nightmare shape gave her enough understanding to ground her in reality, but the fear still swirled about her. A lack of that silence here did not negate its presence elsewhere nor prevent it from travelling closer. Her fingers traced over the letters and a strange thought came to Aurelia. She took a long sip of her coffee and placed the cup on the counter before turning to fetch a pen from a desk in another room.

It was a childish idea. The march of destruction would continue, the dreams may still invade her sleep and it would ruin the book. Aurelia was certain that if anyone found the result, they’d think judge her for the silly act. She may have to hold onto the book for as long as she lived, and only allow it to enter into the hands of a stranger. Let them wonder at that page and make conjectures about its purpose.

Aurelia tested the pen nib on her thumb, and returned to her coffee and the book when the ink formed a perfect line. After another ship, the fear still worked its way around her heart, and Aurelia placed the pen tip over the page. With a sigh, she realized that there was no point in drafting her words. Only she would know they existed, and drawing straight from her troubled heart may the least poetic but the most honest.

‘Goddess, let this pass as all other things do, with us alive and well enough to continue. May the cries of pain and suffering end, but not with our demise.’ The words looped together, turning to cage the printed line, ‘Grant our lives and the lives our descendants the chance to discover the natural end of an entire race so when the true end of our galaxy arrives it will disturb none.’

The pen lifted from the page and Aurelia studied the effect. It was wishful thinking spilled onto a page, but the tightness in her chest had eased. As a ward against reality, it would do nothing, but imaging the words as a shield might give her a few nights of sound rest. Setting aside the pen, Aurelia took the coffee cup in both hands and sipped it as she watched the ink sink into the page. Until the paper was bone dry, she mentally repeated what she wrote, turning the words over and over until her exhaustion tumbled them into one long sound.

Then she left the cup, abandoning the cleaning for another time, and took the book back to the bedroom. There it would rest next to the smiling faces of those she cared for while she settled under the covers and chased after sound sleep.