#subtle lore drop

[officialoddswapau]

answering a question from one of my moots!

Oh Liz. So, so very honest. She can’t be hiding anything, right?

[askcassanything]

Unsure if having the chance to ask any of y'all anything is a good idea è-é but here we are. SO-

Would you say you're the type to donate to charity or make Shadows help you host charity events for kids? This is for science.

I don't bite, I'm not a rabid dog, hun.

The Shadows frequently do charity work, especially when we have no work for long periods of time.

Typically, they decide to help charities that help their own communities that they're a part of. Sometimes, we're hired for relief efforts during natural disasters because the government can only do so much before asking an outside source to help...

Other times, like when it affects our own communities, I send out a group of shadows to help. Like Hurricane Helene hitting my hometown.

[officialoddswapau]

hello Vanessa I was wondering what you favorite hobbies are if your parents allow you two have some? also who is your favorite drone?

and also serial designation T what was your job at Vanessa’s manor before the gala slaughter happened? Also what do you think about cyn are you friends with her or do you not get along with her?

hope you have a great day Vanessa and Serial designation T.also I hope you both enjoy the questions.

Vanessa’s answer:

T’s answer below cut (eyestrain warning.)

…

Have a nice day/night : )

[askcassanything]

What’s the story behind the scar on your cheek? It looks like it has an interesting one.

It's... a story.

In Urzikstan I was at the very back of a battalion. One guy up front stepped on a mine, blew everything all to hell. I guess a piece of metal nicked my face. I went to the medic and they looked like they were about to pass out. Took thirteen stitches to my face without any sort of anesthetic.

[askcassanything]

It was you.

The man you could be, brilliant, kind and loyal to his own.

But of course, you chose to be in the business of death. Giving boys rifles and selling them out to be slaughtered - not even for an idea of national greatness or whatever the fuck they preach in the army. Just for some dollars.

It's easier to roll up to butchered families' houses in a nice car and a sharp suit, isn't it, Commander?

At least you lie to them about their children dying as heroes. I have to grieve a living person. If what you do even can be called living.

-Ved'ma

Don't you dare talk down about MY Shadows when you were the one to abandon me [Redacted].

[askcassanything]

Lore Entry #1

The sound of rain hitting concrete felt like the only thing keeping Graves from losing his sanity. The rushed smacks of water against a hard, unforgiving surface barely cut through the music playing through the lone earbud within his left ear. The slow tune of the start of American Pie as he takes a deep breath.

Today of all days, it was raining. It feels oddly fitting.

He reaches beside him, grabbing a bottle of high-shelf bourbon, and taking a long, hard swig. He puts his thumb over the mouth of the bottle so rain doesn't get inside and dilutes the alcohol within the heavy glass bottle. His tongue licks over the remains of the amber liquid on his lips as he uses his other hand to run through his dirty blonde hair.

He softly hums the tune, not paying attention to the lyrics as he stares at the concrete. Then, without warning, he throws the bottle, watching with rapt attention as the bottle breaks against the surface of the abandoned tarmac. Rain quickly washes the bourbon away, the glass glittering with the water that fills and overflows on the larger pieces.

Graves turns his face up, closing his eyes tightly as the rain washes away the salty tears starting to flow on his cheeks. He stays this way until the song ends, then, slowly, as if he was hesitant to leave, he stands. He wipes the water from his face and pulls out a little letter.

He reads over it once more, another deep breath.

He tears it into two throws it into the nearby storm drain, and heads back to the barracks that Shadow Company is holed up in until the storm passes and they're sent out to another mission. Sometime during the walk, he fishes his Marlboro Reds and starts to smoke a single cigarette.

He couldn't wait to get moving again. Standing still only seems to make the survivor's guilt worse. He doesn't know how much longer he has before he finally snaps and becomes a threat. However, there's still work to be done and he won't rest until he sees the mission through.

Hopefully this time, they won't have any casualties.

[askcassanything]

Oh, I don't want to kill you, скотина. I am going to make your life a nightmare so you will beg for me to end you yourself.

You don't know half of the things I will do to you. And if you try to hide behind your Shadows, like you did in Las Almas, you will only prove how pathetic you are.

Ходи и оглядывайся.

-Ved'ma

Kinky.

What makes you think you can do anything that would make me beg for mercy? Clearly, you don't know a thing about me.

You must live a sad and pathetic life if your only motivation is killing/torturing someone to hope you get the meager satisfaction that revenge might or might not even supply to you, rather than living life for yourself.

If you're constantly living in the past where I fucked you over, or your team or whoever was close enough to you that you hate me enough to send this in my ask box, then you need to find something else to focus on.

... Take this as some advice, yeah? From personal experience, revenge is never as sweet as you're hoping it will be.