#me2 verse.

[lionidas]

@turianrebel​ says:    ❛   chaste :) ❛   chaste .   chastely  kiss  my  muse .

in front of them,  the pair alone whilst standing atop this shielded bridge,  is a city of steel.  they’re like metal fingers,  reaching towards the twin moons,  windows awash with an array of colors.  immersing himself even further into turian culture,  with garrus as his liaison to such an expanse,  granted cullen with a rather unique set of experiences.  not many humans could say they gazed upon the capital of palaven,  clutching the hand of a cherished other within their respective enviro-suits.  at least here,  they could remove their helmets while indoors.

“  if these are our last moments of peace,  i’m glad to be here.  with you.  even if we’re just tourists gawking at turian architecture.  ”

garrus chuckles,  mandibles moving to form a smile,  before he moves forward.  cullen’s grown used to this motion:  the taller turian inches closer,  neck craning downwards as he eliminates the distance between he and his human partner.  soft lips press gently against plate,  a proper kiss that belonged in any romantic holovid.  it was certainly less passionate,  less hungry,  than their first,  garrus pinning him against the walls of the gun battery.

he fights for all living creatures,  human or not,  but recently,  cullen had become selfish.  his motivations remained stalwart but there was another bursting through the earth,  taking roots and forming a garden.  at its heart,  he saw himself and garrus watching the sunrise upon a lonely farm on the english countryside.  the sky is a brilliant blue,  wildflowers dotting the sun-kissed grasslands.  it’s a selfish dream,  especially as the reapers encroached upon their doorstep.  but every kiss,  every brush of their hands,  every night spent together,  it all made him ever so eager for that reality.

“  are you a fan of museums ?  i believe i saw a promising one near here...  ”

loud  &  deafening silence,  accepting.

[lionidas]

@everwar says:    ❛   tousle .    ❛   tousle .   mess  playfully  with  my  muse’s  hair .

his mother often told him he should sleep more,  perhaps invest in melatonin or gin,  whatever was more accessible.  the rose of his eye,  cullen loved her dearly,  but after having tried both,  he knew from experience that neither would cure the insatiable beast that was insomnia.  perhaps the mental stimulants were taking their toll,  though now wasn’t really the time to risk withdrawal,  not with millions of lives at risk.  the threat of the collectors,  the reapers,  the geth,  it all felt like an opera in its rising action,  all before the climax and great fall.  it felt as if everything around them was collapsing,  slowly,  all around them.

again,  the melodramatics.  how long had it been since he had slept ?  he lost count after forty hours.  yet,  here he was in the mess,  spending another night after a mission on his omni-tool.  on this night,  he sought comfort in nostalgia,  rewatching a musical number he enjoyed.

he wasn’t sure when he had fallen asleep.  cullen had only awoken after several moments,  gently rising at the feeling of one gliding through his hair.  eyes flutter awake,  the soldier rising with a quiet groan,  greeted by a familiar face,  a smirk.  cullen returns it with an exhausted,  but warm,  expression.  she’s a welcome sight,  at least,  compared to the denizens of cerberus,  namely operative lawson whose office he had crashed right outside of.

“  my apologies,  commander.  i’m here  -  ”    as if on cue,  cullen’s mouth opens widely,  a hand cupping to cover it as a meager yawn escapes.  his whole body feels this one,  chest puffing up,  limbs outstretched for several moments,  before relaxing once more.    “  ...and ready for duty.  ”

loud  &  deafening silence,  accepting.

[lionidas]

@victamortem​​ says:    “  I’m willing to do what’s necessary.  ”

“  as we all are.  as i am.  i have no regrets as i follow you into this fire.  ”    there is a moment of silence following the statement.  it’s solemn,  final,  but nothing cullen hasn’t already witnessed from shepard.  their quest to stop saren just two years prior taught him such:  there was no running,  not for any of them.  the ghosts of virmire,  the rachni hive,  and now the risk of certain doom for this collection of souls aboard the normandy,  she never stopped.  it was daunting,  still inspiring,  but absolutely daunting.

in truth,  perhaps a year ago,  he couldn’t have imagined leaving the alliance behind,  especially for an organization like cerberus.  he regularly urged shepard to help others,  outwardly more empathetic than a few other of their more ruthless team members,  aiming to use their powers for the greater good.  while he was still technically an alliance officer,  working deep cover in the terminus systems,  his guns fired at the enemies of cerberus,  his crew was cerberus,  his commander reported to cerberus.  it was a hefty burden for any one woman to bear.

“  just...  if you need advice,  an ear,  or an extra gun,  you know where to find me.  ”

mass effect whispers starters,  accepting.

[lionidas]

“  are you sleeping well,  shepard ?  ”    the question seems unnecessary.  if there was anything that cullen knew from firsthand experience,  it would be the lasting effects of stress and of strain.  the sunken eyes and irritability,  even more of the latter than usual,  gave it away.  the glowing red scars,  of which he’s already consulted with chakwas about,  were only supplementary evidence.    “  you seem...  more informal than what i remember.  and of course,  with more scars.  ”    the last quip is meant to be more humorous than anything else,  much needed levity as their ship cruised towards impossible odds.

“  not that i,  of anyone,  should have anything to say about a man and his scars.  ”

@battlemastr​.