#k-adaj

[man-butcher]

Both stood in a dimly lit warehouse, flickering lights hanging above painted the space between them with tension. Dressed in a perfectly tailored suit that accentuated his muscular build, our tyrant looked every bit the businessman — his perfect façade that masked the killing machine beneath. His blonde hair was slicked back, framing a face that could have belonged to a model, angular and flawless, save for the silver tint in his eyes that hinted at something far more sinister.

In his hand, he casually held a sleek, metallic container. It was small, unassuming to the untrained eye, but Smasher knew it was important — well, Arasaka’s intel had been crystal clear on that point and they were hardly wrong. Whatever was inside the container was valuable, a kind of value that men like Kadaj would tear the city apart for. Given the trail of destruction Kadaj had left behind in his blazing trail, Smasher had no doubt that this was the key to capturing the stranger.

He didn’t need to understand what was in the box; he just needed to leverage it and on such note, his lips twitched, curled, they contorted into the smile of a a creature who enjoyed causing pain onto others.

❝ You’ve caused quite the mess for Arasaka, kid. ❞ Adam began, his husky voice chambered across the vast emptiness of the warehouse. ❝ They want you alive, so don't fuck around or else — ❞ Before Kadaj could move a muscle, Adam's palm somehow slid a smart-link firearm from underneath the sleeve, allowing its hollow barrel to blatantly point at the box.

𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃; starter 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍: @k-adaj

[ex-mercenaire]

@k-adaj​

                        ❝     ...  𝐈 𝐃𝐎𝐍’𝐓 𝐒𝐄𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐓 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒,    ❞       kadaj  mumbles  with  a  small  frown,  assessing  the  sharp  stick  in  his  gloved  hand  as  if  a  finicky  protégé  holding  some  alien  insect,      ❝     must  i...    ──    ?  ❞    nonchalantly  glancing  over  at  cloud,  the  remnant's  piercing  gaze  seems  almost pleading for  a  moment  but  that  quickly  changes  as  soon  as  he  notices  the  previously  unseen  softness,  the  side  of  cloud  which  hardly  ever  sees  the  light  of  day;    a  pair  of  doe-like  eyes  &  a  small,  hopeful  smile.  it's  disarming.  kadaj  doesn't  know  what  to  say,  for  once  breaking  off  the  eye-contact  in  order  to  reassemble  the  fleeting  thoughts,  if  not  the  wildly  pacing  heart-beat. oh,  what  a  strange,  unexpected  sensation...

❝   alright,  fine.  fine.  just  quit  looking  at  me  like  that...   it's--  it's  annoying. ❞   not  really  meaning  any  of  those  muttered  words,  the  remnant  begins  to  mimic  cloud  by  stabbing  marshmallows  onto  the  stick.  the  very  last  one  looking  exceptionally  brutal,  almost  as  if  kadaj  is  actively projecting something  in  mind,  but  what?  never  glancing  back,  the  remnant  lowers  his  head &  lets  the  silvery  fringe  obscure  not  only  his  pale  face,  but  also  the  slowly  growing  blush.    ❝     . . . . .   ❞ 

a   man’s   heart   who   longed   for   another   could   beat   louder   than   thunder,   soar   higher   than   the   stars   themselves,   even   if   neither   the   mind   nor   soul   acknowledged   such.   cloud’s   docile   eyes   tenderly   sought   kadaj’s   own   ‘til   they   became   veiled,   even   so,   our   ex-soldier   quietly   remained   watching   for   his   own   delight.   kadaj’s   nature   had   begun   to   change   before   him   ;   he   was   but   a   flower   whose   petals   bloomed   when   the   time   was   right,   revealing   a   bewitching   core.

cloud   took   an   opportunity   to   extend   an   open   palm,   leaving   its   gloved   surface   to   gently   rest   ‘pon   the   other’s   own.   it   began   to   guide   it,   anchoring   it   so   the   marshmallows   could   meet   the   dancing   flames.   ❝   you’ve   agreed   to   this,   ❞   a   gentle   tone   weaved   each   word   delicately.   ❝   so   just   go   along,   okay.   .   .   ❞   finger   by   finger,   cloud’s   palm   enclosed   ‘pon   kadaj’s   own,   ensnaring   their   contact   ‘till   the   deed   had   been   done.

   in   time   it   began   to   formulate,   a   pleasant   aroma   of   roasted   marshmallows.   they   blended   well   with   the   forest’s   natural   scent,   bringing   out   an   enriched   smell   which   no   city   could   ever   produce.   snow-white   now   turned   to   blemished   brown,   they   were   ready,   so   our   ex-soldier   guided   kadaj’s   palm   away   from   the   playful   fire   &   released   the   other’s   warm   hand.   ❝   told   you,   not   complicated.   ❞   a   splendid   time   to   now   roast   his   own.

[chronic-paragon]

6. ♥

​6. a  kiss  as  a  warning.

Pain sears through flesh and into bones. Harmony draws in a shaky breath, her ribs ablaze with the trauma Kadaj unleashed. She tried to get away. A desperate attempt to get out of the depths of the Forgotten Capitol where she found herself. Another fight ensued and Harmony gave it her all. Every strikes, every punch and kick. Even using her own arsenal and Obstacle to win. She fought for her own life but the silver-haired man always fared better in that match.  

Now, she manages to escape and found a place to hide. She needs to figure a way out of here. She realizes she’s way over her head and the Turk needs to return. Her once pristine black suit torn and stained with earth, mud, and blood.  Long, dark locks free from the binds of her messy bun fall around her shoulders with some strands clinging to the sweat on her skin. Bent sterling plates reveal the bright green static sporadically flashing from exposed wires of her cybernetic arm. Sparks land on the ground.

"D-damn it!" She groans when she tries to move her fingers. The slender, metallic digits remain still as her arm lies outstretched at her side.

Come on! Come on, move! She silently begs, but her hopes of still being able to use her arm dwindles as her fingers and arm doesn't move to her brain's command. There is not much time left! She can’t stay here for long when he’s looking for her! She lets out a small sound when footsteps approach her. Her weary gaze catches sight of Kadaj lowering himself on one knee before her.

Damn it all! He found her after all! That bit of hope for an escape falls apart at that moment.

Lithe fingers take hold of her chin. A strained cry answers him and anger flashes in her gray eye when they meet his own intense gaze. Dread washes over Harmony as reality crashes into her. This could be it! He won this fight and he could destroy her like what he did to her two lost partners in their first meeting. She remembers the horrible sight of his souba diving into the lost turk's flesh. Deep red stained the floor and splattered the walls, leaving him for dead. The other silver haired man nonchalantly shot the other Turk before leaving to find their third brother. 

The lost colleagues are gone but certainly not forgotten. If only she could save those two.

But now, she fears she could face the same fate. Her stomach twists into knots. Her heart sputters in its race against her bruised chest. Warmth brims her eye as she looks on in horror. She fights to make her artificial arm move. She wants to make it swing and land a punch on Kadaj’s smug expression. He seems quite pleased that he’s the victor, and she despises that! Sparks fly and the metallic limb twitches at her side, but it doesn’t lift from the ground.  Harmony winces as her left hand rises and rest on Kadaj’s chest. Fingers curl into the jet black fabric and she uses the remnants of her strength to push him back. That doesn’t seem to deter him, much to her dismay.

She doesn’t want to die! Not like this! 

Eyes shut tight as she braces for the pain that is to come. 

Gods, please! Please help me! I don’t want to die! 

Then, Kadaj makes his move. He doesn’t strike with his souba, or even with a fist. Instead, he holds her face still as he moves in with his finishing attack. His eyes closed as he leans in. 

“Mm!” Soft lips meet her’s in a kiss. Muscles lock in place. Her eyes open wide as she looks ahead. This is a surprise, but actually not an unpleasant one.  However, seconds drag on and she wonders if he would let her go so she can breathe. But Kadaj doesn’t break the kiss. Why isn’t letting go? Does he need to breathe as well? There is no way to tell, and she doesn’t want to find out. Not when her need for air intensify.

Lungs ache for air and she jerks her head from one side to another. His grip on her chin is rather strong. Her hand pushes more against Kadaj’s chest, using more of her fading energy to force him away. Her cybernetic fingers twitch with more sparks raining from her damaged shoulder. The limb jerks with more static. Her body jolts from the static, shocked that he doesn’t seem bothered by it. Thoughts frantically race and the edges of her vision darken. Darkness slowly creeps inward around Kadaj’s handsome face. Cold metal joins her warm left hand. Both hands rest on his chest. Static and sparks fly as she pushes with what’s left for her fading strength to grant the chance to breathe. Fears and thoughts swirl together as she begins to lose consciousness. A muffle growl reaches his ears. Her teeth aims to sink into Kadaj’s bottom lip until her vision blacks out. Silence surrounds her. 

Then, there’s nothing. 

Harmony doesn’t realize right away that the kiss is more than a whim. By the grace of the gods, he decided not to end her life here and now, but that kiss is a silent warning. She will live this time, but how many more chances does she have left? 

@k-adaj

[man-butcher]

                  𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘 𝐃𝐎𝐎𝐑 𝐒𝐋𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐋𝐘,   &  as  if  conjured  by  dark  magic,  the  three  remnants  ease  into  the  room.  in  the  limelight,  they  almost  look  like  replicas  ──    adorned  with  silver  hair,  black  leather  &  serpentine  eyes  ──   but  their  personalities  alone  couldn’t  be  anymore  different.   when  adam  speaks,  the  youngest-looking  one  is  the  first  to  answer,  muttering  in  a  low,  gentle,  yet  borderline  mocking  tone,    ❝    would  you  look  at  that... ?   it  can  speak.    ❞    the  man  on  the  right  suddenly  laughs,  resting  a  lone  gloved  hand  against  his  chiseled  stomach.  he  is  clearly  not  intimidated  by  the  monstrous  human  nor  the  majestic  arsenal  of  high-tech  weaponry,  taking  a  few  nonchalant  steps  forward  as  the  last  remnant  follows  closely  by,   being  both  silent  &  gracious,  just  like  a  smiling  fox. they  stop  directly  before  adam  when  the  burly  one  speaks,    ❝    oi !   kadaj !   can  we  play  with  this  one...  ?   ❞   looking  over  the  broad  shoulder  in  hope,  the  youngest  retrieves  a  flip-phone  out  of  his  pocket  &  gives  a  simple   ‘  mhm  ‘   as  an  answer,  nigh  instantly  painting  a  sadistic  smile  across  those  pale  lips  in  turn.  now,  looking  back,  serpentine  eyes  shine  with  new-found  excitement  all  the  while  the  accompanying  remnant  ever  so  casually  retrieves  his  velvet  nightmare;   a  long  silver  handgun  ornamented  by  two  sharp  blades.  it  glimmers  wickedly  in  the  neon  lights,  more  so  when  tauntingly  aimed  at  the  infamous  ‘  butcher  ‘   of  shinra. ❝   heh.  don’t  break  on  me  too  soon,  okay?   ❞    not  really  waiting  for  an  answer,  the  burly  man  charges  ahead  &  he  does  so  within  a  blink,  quite  literally  re-appearing  before  adam  in  a  series  of  after-images  &  fired  gunshots  just  to  punch  him  in  the  stomach,  most  shockingly  sending  the  titan  flying  straight  into  an  iron  wall  on  the  opposite  end;    ❝    hehe  !     ❞     kadaj,  on  the  other  hand,  never  looks  up.   among  the  mixing  sounds  of  laughter,  bullets,  &  booming  metal,  the  young  remnant  simply  stays  back  &  continues  to  browse  through  the  map,  attempting  to  locate  rufus’s  possible  location.   @k-adaj

❝ ── you little fucks. ❞ the voice which surfaced was an unsettling amalgamation of growls, whispers, digital and guttural altogether. galvanized steel hands that were far too large for a human emerged, each hydraulic claw selectively pierced into the edges of the protruding hole that once absorbed his incoming impact. adam's towering and broad frame came out unscathed, save for a few blemishes on the paint, all following an ensuing explosion that spewed out a torrent of blazing inferno which engulfed his unfazed countenance. ❝ maybe you'll be worth my time after all. ❞ praise, a dangerous prize when awarded by someone who relished keenly on death when resolving disputes.

Adam's cybernetic eyes, lenses exuding an unnatural blood saturated hue, flickered as he surveyed the immediate area, processing the scene with cold, calculated efficiency. His advanced targeting systems rapidly analyzed these three potential threats standing before him. Each target was subjected to an indiscriminate barrage of data collection: biometric readings, threat assessments, and tactical analysis in order to formulate individual portfolios.

Within milliseconds, a decision matrix easily highlighted the fairly built target as the primary threat. The logic was clear: neutralize any communication links or information searches. Adam's shoulder-mounted cannon swiveled with lethal precision, it aligned its sights on the individual holding the phone. The targeting reticule locked in place, and the cannon hums ominously while charging. ❝ pay attention you fucking piece of meat! ❞ not a moment sooner, a large volley of rockets made its way towards kadaj, and simultaneously Adam utilized a high pressure automatic rifle, pummeling the duo with an incoming ocean of specialized led.

[ex-mercenaire]

𝐨𝐧𝐞   𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠   𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩   𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝,   one   last   hurdle   to   settle   bad   blood.   no   matter   how   many   times   their   blades   had   clashed,   our   ex-mercenary   could   not   shake   that   indefatigable   sense   of   uneasiness   budding   within   his   chest   ;   ‘   there’s   a   way   for   you   to   give   him   a   second   chance,   cloud.   here,   take   this.   use   it   if   you   have   a   change   of   heart,   it’ll   suppress   his   memories   &   give   him   an   opportunity   to   be   someone   better.   ‘   vincent’s   last   counselling   words,   repeatedly   drumming   vigorously   within   the   confinement   of   cloud’s   mind.

revving   wheels   drew   a   pathway   across   midgard’s   dangerous   outskirts.   planes   once   plagued   by   shinra’s   weaponized   machinery   now   brimmed   with   hordes   of   beasts,   each   sporting   ghoulish   outlines   &   nightmarish   portfolios.   it   became   all   too   clear,   fiends   of   such   nature   could   have   only   been   summoned   by   a   distant   familiar   enemy.   so,   without   stopping   under   the   cold   dead   of   night,   cloud   carried   forth   with   distinguishable   valor   ‘till   the   town   of   junon   no   longer   remained   a   figment   of   imagination.

the   once   known   peaceful   town   glimmered   bright,   shimmered   equally   like   a   distant   star   ;   flames   everywhere,   everything   had   been   set   ablaze   like   that   once   tragic   night   in   nibelheim.   did   he   really   do   all   of   this?   with   haste,   cloud   drove   into   chaos's   heart.   lifeless   bodies   burnt,   charred   flesh   produced   the   most   foul   smell   which   made   the   experienced   fighter   gag   instinctively.   amongst   all   which   was   deemed   vile,   there   he   was,   kadaj      —      sephiroth's   immortalized   living   will,   commemorating   amongst   the   dead.

once   grinding   wheels   ceased   motioning,   allowing   the   brave   ex-soldier   to   unmount   his   trusty   steel   steed.   even   as   the   desire   to   speak   came   to   surface,   cloud   dared   not   to   share   a   word.   right   now,   kadaj's   fate   swung   under   fate's   pendulum,   under   his   big   brother's   judgement.   daring   to   waste   no   further   time   nor   give   an   advantage,   cloud's   dexterous   hands   powerfully   swung   his   brave   blade   forth,   causing   a   gust   of   wind   to   further   split   the   flames   around   himself.   the   night   was   young   &   it   certainly   would   prove   itself   to   be   a   long   one.

@k-adaj​ | sc

[man-butcher]

hc + 🚬 & ☕

🚬 - One of Adam Smasher’s most ingrained bad habits is his obsession with collecting trophies from his fallen enemies. After every significant kill, he takes a piece of his target — this can be a weapon, a cybernetic implant, or even a personal item that made a significant impact on the enemy's life — as a trophy. These items are meticulously stored in a hidden chamber within his private warehouse, displayed like a museum.

This habit isn’t just about keeping mementos; it’s a way for Smasher to relive his conquests and assert his dominance. He often finds himself obsessively organizing and rearranging these trophies, reliving the moment of each kill in his mind. Potentially this can be seen as a part of his humanity clinging on, despite how grim it is.

☕ - Smasher has developed a peculiar and rather disturbing habit of consuming a specialized toxic cocktail that he refers to as "Chrome Fuel." This drink isn’t something found in bars; funny enough it’s a concoction he engineered himself by blending industrial-grade chemicals, synthetic compounds, and a small amount of high-proof alcohol. The mixture is extremely corrosive to humans, can even be lethal but due to his heavily augmented body, he can can process it without issue.

The ardent sensation makes him feel more distant from his remaining humanity, as if encroaching closer and closer to the state he's been aspiring to be.

𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃; thematic memories 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍: @k-adaj 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐒: Accepting

[man-butcher]

📼 !

As a teenager, Adam became another product of a system designed to exploit the poverty that children underwent under a collapsing city. After witnessing his parents' brutal deaths, Adam was enrolled into the foster care system, another bureaucratic nightmare ( could be seen as a transparent organization ) where children were more often seen as assets than as individuals in need of care. The system was overcrowded, underfunded, and riddled with corruption, always seeking for those capable of adopting for a particular fee.

At 13 he was already hardy as a teen and difficult to handle due to his traumatic past experiences and events on the streets. He had learned quickly that trust was a luxury he could not afford, and vulnerability was a surefire way to invite further abuse against himself. His first foster home was a dilapidated and, not surprisingly, overcrowded apartment run by a woman who took in children for the sheer purpose of garnering government funds. The other kids were just as malnourished as he was—some had turned into bullying, others played the role of victim in order to go unnoticed, ultimately all were trapped in a cycle of neglect and abuse in an endless well-fed machine.

Adam quickly realized that to survive, he had to become the predator rather than the prey. He started working out obsessively by using makeshift weights and doing bodyweight exercises in the tiny room he shared with two other boys. By the age of 16, being far too old to be passed around foster homes, he was thrown into a group home as a last ditch effort to place him somewhere.

𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃; childhood memory 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍: @k-adaj 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐒: Accepting

[m-ythos]

In the dimly lit confines of a concealed mithril cave is where our warrior was, the air was thick with combined scents of earth and minerals. Soft glistening lights from the cave’s natural luminescence veiled long shadows on the walls, revealing their rough and rather jagged surfaces of the cave’s interior. Clive who was on an expedition had his dark hair slightly disheveled from the exertions of the day, he was knelt beside a figure slumped against the cool, rocky floor.

The stranger was utterly unknown, an unfamiliar face whose features bore a striking resemblance to someone Clive could have sworn he had seen before - or perhaps not. This young man's doll-like complexion was pale, and his silver hair fanned out around him like a halo of moonlight.

Clive could not help but share an expression of concern as he gently cradled the stranger's head on his knee. He popped open a leather pouch in order to pour trickles of water to try and somehow bring the stranger to life

❝ Come now, ❞ Clive murmured softly, his voice almost lost in the vast silence of the cave. ❝ You must wake up. ❞

@k-adaj