#charmoliipii

[call-2-arms]

@charmoliipii​ || cont x 

Samara's finesse in fighting was just as powerful and skilled as others, but she, too, had her limits. Stamina, excursion, she had it, but like all else, after fighting for so long, a well-placed bullet could take her down.

It didn't mean she was done fighting, but it was a split second that took her away from the fight and being useful. No scream came from her lips; she was used to pain. However, losing blood was still a dangerous situation. The bullets hit her abdomen. She saw the shots, tried to move out of the way in time. Instead of hitting her heart, it hit her side. She had tried to jump and deflect, but her shields missed, and it caused her to flip and hit the ground. Metallic purple blood seeped from her wound as she hissed, and she grabbed her side. The stinging pain ripped through her as a blur of colors filled her eyes—the shock of the pain caused hesitation.

She forced herself to sit up, blood covering her hand, sliding down her suit like a waterfall that she noticed suddenly she was picked up. "Shepard," Samara spoke up, hissing through her teeth as she reached for her weapon. In the base of cover, she took a breath. "Do not worry about me; we must take them out no matter the cost," She stated as she looked up to him. "Nothing else matters until then,"

Nothing else? That wasn’t how Shepard worked. A Commander didn’t leave his people behind. He’d been a soldier for most of his life, seen and even done horrible things, but leaving a crew member behind? Never an option.

It was hard to see all of the fight when most of the time he was looking down a scope. Every now and again, Johnathon had to raise his head to see where his comrades were, as well as his foes. That’s when he’d seen Samara fall, the shot taking her down. He tossed his rifle over his shoulder and run straight to her, dodging the firefight by sinking behind walls and crates that he could take cover behind. 

When he finally found her, he’d scooped her up as quickly as possible. It was then that he realised how tall Samara was, and the fact that Asari weighed more than they looked. The armour didn’t help. Shepard gritted his teeth and ducked as he heard a bullet whizz past his left ear. Finally, when he found suitable cover, he quickly grabbed some medi-gel and started working on where she was wounded. He wasn’t a medic, but a quick slap of the gel would help the pain, and stop the bleeding.

“Hey, no one gets left behind on this team.” He ducked again, this time the bullet hitting the wall near his head and shipping the concrete and paint off. He pulled out his pistol and took a few shots, hearing a grunt and the weight of a body falling before he turned back to Samara. 

“You think you can manage the rest of the way?” He took her gun and offered it back to her. The Blue Suns had put up a fight, but their numbers were starting to dwindle now. Just a few more and they’d be able to get the information they came here for. 

[turixn-renegxde]

@charmoliipii

GARRUS didn't know how everything could have gone so wrong in the span of a single year. It started after Sovereign had attacked the Citadel. If he had thought a damn invasion would have been enough to convince the Council that Reapers existed , he would have been wrong. The moment news started circulating , it was reported that Sovereign had been a Geth dreadnought. The Council publically dismissed Shepard's claim , calling her a ( disgraced commander ). That had infuriated him.

HE poured himself into his work at C-Sec , hoping he could still make some difference. But this time , there seemed to be more red tape than usual. He tried his best to get around regulations , to bring criminals to real justice , but nothing worked. Things with his father had reached a boiling point , and though they worked in the same department , they were not on speaking terms.

THE small amount of hope Garrus held was snuffed out when Shepard died. She had seemed to be the one good person in the galaxy ; the only one fighting to make a difference. And then she was gone. He never got to say goodbye , or tell her how much of an impact she had made on him.

THE days afterward were a blur. All he felt was numbness. The only things his days were filled with were work and drinking. Tonight , he had come to a quieter bar on the Citadel , and had claimed a table to sit quietly with his thoughts. He had a good view of everyone entering the establishment ; people watching was a good distraction.

HE had only downed one beer before someone familiar stalked quietly into the bar. Was it actually ... ? It had to be : Samara. They had met briefly a while ago , and had a few good conversations together. Though her tactics were severe , Garrus admired her role as a Justicar. She had no restrictions , no hoops to jump through ; she could bring people to justice as she saw fit , and no one would question her. There was someone who could actually make a difference in the galaxy. He picked up his drink to meet her across the room.

" SAMARA? " he called as he approached her. " Garrus Vakarian -- not sure if you remember , but we met a few months ago. It's ... good to see you again. "

[storiedhistories]

So forgot to send this but!!! We haven't followed each other long, but I already love your portrayal of Goliath! The detail you use, the way you write, its all so beautifully!! And I may be watching the other replies you do too and everything is just so awesome! I honestly can't wait to plot more and write more and just really get to know more of your muses <3

Beep Beep How's My Portrayal

AAAAAH, THIS IS SO LOVELY AND NICE. T_T Thank you so much, friend! And thank you for playing such a lovely Elisa!! It is simply a delight to write with you, and I can't wait to toss more people your way! <3

[storiedhistories]

@charmoliipii asked: [ RELIEF ] - sender gives receiver a relieved hug. - Elisa/Goliath

To Be Held Prompts // Accepting

Sometimes, it was hard to remember what the clan was like before they had awoken in Manhattan; those days had been so long ago.  And though Goliath still mourned the loss of so many of his kind, he had learned to live in this new century.  Nothing would ever bring them back, it was true, but neither would living in the past.  He had had to move on, had had to make the best of the situation in which he and the remainder of the clan had found themselves in.  

Which likely wouldn't have been possible (or at least, it wouldn't have been nearly as smooth) without Elisa's help.  She could easily have decided that they weren't worth it when she'd first met them, but instead, she had given them a chance and become part of the clan herself.  

It was the first time a human had been accepted as part of a gargoyle clan so readily and so FULLY.  And Elisa had more than earned her place in their family; she protected the clan as well as ANY Gargoyle.

She had been such a staple in his life that Goliath frequently looked for the detective when he first awoke each evening, and she was often the last thing on his mind each morning, especially when she was there to see them off into their daily slumber.  So when she'd told them that she had to go undercover, that she wouldn't be able to see them for as long as this assignment lasted, he knew that he would miss seeing her.  But Elisa was as fierce as any Gargoyle, and he was trying to trust that she would ASK when she wanted his help, instead of simply assuming that she NEEDED it.  

Still, he found himself having to resist the temptation to glide over the city, specifically to try to find her.  Instead, he threw himself into his nightly patrols with the rest of the clan, doing what he could to help protect the people of Manhattan, the way that he had vowed he would.  

He was preparing to do just that when he heard the by now very familiar sound of the ladder being pulled down in preparation to enter the clan's home.  Goliath suspected that it would likely be Matt Bluestone, to give them an update on Elisa; he hadn't been expecting the woman herself.  

When he saw the familiar dark hair and eyes, coupled with her signature red jacket, he couldn't help but smile.  Before he could say anything, she rushed across the room, throwing her arms around his neck in a tight hug.  Goliath caught her, enfolding her in an embrace, wings wrapping around her to hold her even closer.

"I didn't expect you for a few more days," he admitted, though he was not at all unhappy at this turn of events.  "Did you complete your assignment early?"

[storiedhistories]

@charmoliipii asked: “I made cookies for you.” - Goliath/Elisa

Send One To See How My Muse Reacts // Accepting

It was a relatively quiet evening in the clocktower above the 23rd precinct of the New York Police Department.  Brooklyn, Lexington, and Broadway had taken to the skies to find something to entertain themselves, while Hudson and Bronx were visiting their friend Jeffrey Robbins.  Which meant that Goliath had the tower to himself.  

On nights like this, when he wasn't patrolling the skies himself, he frequently picked up one of the books Elisa had taken out of the library for him.  He so rarely had quiet moments like this that when he did, he liked to take advantage of them.

Book of Shakespeare's sonnets in hand, he caped his wings around him, heading back out onto the balcony where he and his clan usually spent their days.  Though it was hard to see the stars because of the light pollution from the city, it was a cool, crisp fall day, and he enjoyed feeling the night air on his skin.  

He was just settling down on the railing, overlooking the city, to read his book when he heard something from inside the tower.  At this time of night, it was likely to be Elisa, dropping by for her nightly visit before she went on duty.  And if that was the case, his book could wait.  

"Elisa," he greeted her as he ducked through the balcony door.  He noticed that she was carrying a wrapped plate, which he found curious.  While she frequently brought them little creature comforts, this appeared to be different from her usual offerings.  

At the mention of cookies, Goliath's brow furrowed for a moment.  Had he forgotten a special day?  "What's the occasion?" he asked, hoping that she'd simply felt like making cookies.  He prided himself on remembering the important things, but he certainly wasn't perfect.

[stbtmary]

«Charmolypi belongs to a tiny family of words, including Hiraeth, Saudade, Sehnsucht and Natsukashii, that contains sentiments of bittersweet longing, a yin-yang of joy and sorrow. It is a feeling that comes only when we allow ourselves to feel deeply, profoundly, painfully, wholly. The yearning is not for a specific place, person, or thing—it is the unnameable ache when you hear a particular piece of music, when the light slants a certain way, when a scent or taste catches you unawares and sends you reeling back into memory»

[elusivehumanity]

“ this would be a good time to start praying. “

He doesn't pray. Who would he pray to? With all he knows about the Reapers, the Protheans, the cycles before, what is he supposed to believe in? Who the hell is out there listening? He might as well pray to himself, for all the good looking to some higher power has ever done. No, he controls his own fate, and the fates of many others. He is more like a god than the deities in books. For years he's had a hand in controlling the direction of humanity, and now he intends to control the monsters seeking to destroy them. If they want to worship something, they can worship him. He will be the one to save them all.

"Is that supposed to be a threat? You have no idea who you are dealing with."

[unbcwed]

Samara

“Hell of a view.” The Commander said, eyes taking in the sight of the endless void of stars that she looked out upon in the observation deck of The Normandy. Easy to get lost in the infinity of the galaxy if you stared long enough.

“Have time to talk, Samara?” Shepard came away from the door, standing at the end of the bay window.