#c: vale

[spookiwooki]

Part of an art trade with @midnight-zer0 ^-^ Yippee!!

[dirgni]

It was another night laying low and spying, people watching and taking mental notes. It was a far too common and childish task, but it was also what he was told to do. This was the fourth night in the row doing the same damn thing and he was beginning to wonder (for the billionth time) if it was all a set up. How interesting could the barmaid be? A mudblood loving traitor who is bad at hiding her involvement with the order? Yes, but interesting?... not one bit.

He meddled with his drink, stirring it slowly with a simple rotatory move of his finger when he noticed a figured approach him. “Go away.” He said slowly, not caring to look up.

[ravengirlwrites]

BEEP

SEND “BEEP” FOR A RANDOM TEXT FROM MY MUSE.

26. A hyper text

Transmitted. 0343. 2872.3.3. access channel 11. 

 [[  fuck yes secure channel! my freind z set this up so its rock solid. no prying eyes on my end at least ]]

[[ im pretty sure she thinks im just gonna use it to talk dirty to some sponders on missions n shit ]]

[[ which i mean ]]

[[ if your down i totally will ]]

[[ also if not thats ok too i reckon there are real things to use a mega encrypted comm channel for i guess ]]

[floralb0t-fr]

Hey just a reminder that Vale is a beautiful and majestic girl

[ravengirlwrites]

♬ ✏ ❈

Send me a …

♬ to learn about my character’s music taste

Music files are scarce on the ground, but Vale hears a lot of the propaganda songs and the homegrown bands people put together, which is the only music the Resistance bothers with.

✏ to learn about my character’s reading habits

 Vale skims the reports and the news feed. He reads the Commander’s addresses to the Resistance. Reading for entertainment isn’t something they do a lot of, but during the recovery for his first conditioning for the black armor, he pretty much only had his eyes to use, and Zahara got him an adventure story that was so big and long and twisty that he couldn’t help but get involved with it. She dispensed it to him, chapter by chapter, in little files so that he wouldn’t “blow through it all at once.” There’s a part of Vale that believes that she wrote the whole thing herself, but when he asked, she claimed ignorance. It was just something she “happened to find.”  

❈ to learn about my character’s eating habits 

Vale eats the same rations as everyone else; he doesn’t think of food as having a taste, so he doesn’t have favorites. Since interfacing with the black armor means that he’s getting his energy at that moment from being something of a cyborg, when he detaches from it he sometimes gets hit by hard, sudden hunger pangs since his stomach has theoretically been empty for eight hours or more. 

[ravengirlwrites]

☹

Send me a ☹ and I’ll tell you what I think our muses would fight about!

Vale is going to do the dangerous thing, because he’s 100% a badass--but he doesn’t know the Queen like Ilona does, and doesn’t know what she’s capable of. It’s not worth him dying. Ilona is going to be a downer about stuff, but she doesn’t know what he’s given up to become what he is now, and how much more he’s willing to sacrifice. It’s so worth it.

[ravengirlwrites]

a moment of weakness

Send ‘a moment of weakness’ for a randomly generated drabble

4. My muse is completely drunk and incoherent.

Three drinks deep, Vale joined into the cantina cheering, singing or chanting, whatever it was that was in favor in that moment, in that instant. Another three, he was sick in the back. A hands-and-knees sort of sick, the kind that Zahara would call “his own damn fault” and “a foreseeable and avoidable regret.” But Z never stopped Vale from getting truly shitfaced, despite objecting, rightly, that it pulled him off rotations, off his recommended dosages, off his game, off his reaction times and improvement scores, off schedule in every way. She defended him, sometimes. She knew he needed it. She argued with the commander over it, a lot, that their only R-Class Chevalier was young and needed to exercise his youth despite having made extraordinary sacrifices for the cause.

It wasn’t Zahara standing over him. He had thought so until he heard her voice, the voice he’d always know, from anywhere, at any frequency or quality or condition. “Ilona,” he said, pushing himself up off the bench where he’d been resting his head. His legs, heavy out of the armor, stretched out beneath him, cutting a hard edge into his flesh-and-blood thigh. His metal hands moved slow and clumsily over the bench. 

“Heeeey, Ilona,” he repeated, getting a fix on her. Vale squinted. There was no HUD, that was what was wrong. He felt wrong without a display over the world, numbers and info beamed in front of his eyes. “You’re so young, you know!”

He couldn’t hear her snort. She squatted down beside him. She asked him a question. Vale didn’t hear it, but thought it must be something like “what’s wrong with you?”

“You,” Vale said. Everyone liked a little nod, a little word of … a little flirting or something. “Way too pretty.”

“What did you say?” 

“Older hot.” Vale set his head down. “Lady in the tower.” 

He felt her drape something over his shoulders. The pressure sensors that served as nerves in his out-of-armor prosthetics barely registered its weight. It was nothing to the minute and exquisite control he had in the black armor, the dexterity and the speed. Those secrets had been lost, a long time ago.

“Do you like me?” Vale asked. He couldn’t keep his eyes open. He didn’t even know if she was still there. “You should. I’m … badass.”

“You’ve said that before,” she said, but the words emptied out of his head and all he had was the pure memory of her voice, just like before, just in his head. A presence, a guide, a north star frequency. He sighed. 

With great effort, he flexed the fingers of Z’s homebrewed hands, based on the intricacies she’d observed in the black armor but nowhere near their sophistication. Zahara pointed out when he was hungover the morning after that his mobility was severely reduced while drunk. 

“This isn’t me,” he murmured. “Not me.”