#mercurized

[chxxseyourfighter]

Commission done by | @mercurized / @seidanguard | 

[doloresalbinsson]

@mercurized

  Whether distant screams had captured its curiosity or the encounter was coincidental, beyond the reach of the streetlamps, down a narrow backstreet, the T-1000 found a young woman crouched in the dark. Being so slight of build, one might’ve struggled to believe she could be accountable for the corpse which she knelt beside. The corpse which she was eating. Yet unalerted to the machine’s presence, she bent down to tear away another mouthful from the dead man’s mangled body. A sated hum rose from her.

  Another moment passed before the woman stilled, growing dimly aware of the prickly sensation of eyes on her back. Her head turned little by little, then all at once to peer over her shoulder. At her hind stood a policeman. She didn’t startle. After all, it wasn’t as though this man, even while armed, stood more of a chance against her than the other had. Not that she was inclined to do the same to some shiny new rookie (she guessed, as he looked quite young to her) for the crime of working a very unlucky beat. Still, the disturbance irked her, and that much was plain on her face, along with mild surprise. How had he managed to sneak up on her? She supposed the officer’s scent was difficult to distinguish from the corpse’s overwhelming reek of blood. The rest, owing to a hazy mind, maybe?

  She turned about to face him. Red guilt splattered the cold, white canvas of her skin, hair, and dress. It smeared her muzzle, dripped from her chin. It coated her arms from fingertip to elbow like a pair of evening gloves. There was no hope of him judging her innocent. But without violence as an option—for now—she clumsily defaulted to her usual performance. The woman smiled up at him, baring shark-like teeth, and chirped: “Hi!”

[torntrutha]

      Stares directly at @mercurized​ while Grace presses down on the play button.    The song that comes from the ‘borrowed’ iPhone is Sunglasses at Night.   She doesn’t blink.    DOESN’T SAY A SINGLE WORD.    Just stares.

[rewrittendefiance]

It was a tough decision. She didn't know if she could pull it off and she highky doubted she could. Having three (mostly) protective guys made things extremely difficult. But the idea had plagued her mind for months and she was prepared. Money stashed away with some goods in a bag she packed. Of course she said goodbye to Kyle - when he was sleeping.

Jane was on high alert as she slipped out of the house. It could be literal seconds when one of the two terminators would be alerted, to know of her attempted absence. Running away was something she had plenty practice in so a few feet away from the driveway did she book it. Silently she prayed neither robot came after her. Least not Right away.

@mercurized

[griimarch]

@mercurized​ asked; I listened to a song by Alanis Morissette. It was called Ironic, but none of the situations she described are ironic. Explain, human.

Why did people always come to her with stupid questions? Gemma was a brilliant tactician and marksmen, yet she got asked about songs and shit. “First of, my name is Grim. Not human, if you want to speak to people and learn information, try being... I don't know, friendly.” Gemma smirked, “and that shitty song, why the hell are you listening to that shit. And the song is called it because they are situationally ironic. Not everything is cut and dry, I thought someone like you would know that.”

[unbrydledfury]

    “And each and every scar was made from love, blobby.”

[tornsurvivors]

No Filter let's hope I'm at least in your

SEND ‘NO FILTER’ FOR RECEIVER’S MUSE TO TALK ABOUT SENDER’S MUSE COMPLETELY UNFILTERED. // @mercurized

Oh yeah, you’re in her fucking thoughts, alright!

Being the fuel of her unbridled rage. Why did ya have to bring it up, Dani and Grace?! Why bring up Skynet?! Just seemed like there was NO END to the machine gun rounds she’s firing at the poor targets of the makeshift firing range. When the cartridge runs out, she’s already grabbing the nearest gun and turning a watermelon into mush --- driven by the dark memory of her son getting chased down by that liquid silver trash. The memory of getting fucking stabbed in her shoulder. The memory of that fucking smug expression on that THING’s unhuman face! 

“Fuck!” The yell she lets out is just full of bitter anger, almost like she was bellowing as she twists the now empty rifle to hold it like a melee weapon as she approaches the remaining target that isn’t full of holes. Or half hanging off. She absolutely pummels the shit out of it with the rifle before flinging it off somewhere in the fucking trees, before huffing and storming off towards the cabin.

Meanwhile, Dani and Grace are standing still. Hoping Sarah wouldn’t notice them for good reasons... not particularly feeling like turning into a punching bag. Once Sarah disappears inside the house, they simultaneously release a breath. Grace is the first to speak in a hushed whisper to Dani, making an agreement that they are to not bring it up to Sarah ever again. Dani nods.

Then they both freeze when another yell echoes from the house, “Now I don’t even want to finish my potato chips! THANKS A LOT, ASSHOLES! Just take my cigarettes and liquor away next, why don’t ya?!” 

Dani slowly blinks and mutters to Grace just as hushed, almost like they’re afraid Sarah would hear them from far away,  “Let’s look at the bright side... she’s venting now. Instead of murdering us in our sleep later. Oh, and... don’t ever let her anywhere near that bazooka.”

[futurespacess]

Starter | Muse: Sarah Connor

Sarah glared at the Terminator of liquid metal, or whatever bullshit that it was made of. She could hardly remember the words of the T-800, or known as Uncle Bob by her son... or Termie. A shudder ran through her quietly as she  thought of how fucking weird it was that not only were they allies with that one, but to give it nicknames?? It was unsettling, but nothing as unsettling as this one before her. It was an enemy of the future, hers and John’s enemy, and she held the butt of her rifle even tighter in her grip, preparing for anything to happen.

    “Get the fuck away from me...”

| @mercurized |