@vi1trum // random starter for terra cause i felt like it
RETURNING TO TALESCRIA after being away for so long meant two things : she had to report to the coalition on her last job and she had to visit her niece, the latter obviously taking priority.
Gwen stops by the Grayson's home with an abundance of gifts levitating behind her ; clothes, toys and treats, anything she found on her travels that she thought Terra would like.
❝ HEY KIDDO ! ❞ she greets excitedly as she's invited inside, nodding to Eve with a bright smile, scooping Terra up in a tight hug, twirling around to make her giggle. ❝ I missed you ! Aaaaannnnnd I brought presents. ❞ smooch pressed to the top of her head as she's set back down. ❝ You wanna open em now or do you want to go eat a lot of ice cream first ? With your moms permission of course. ❞
[ NIGHTCLUB ]: sender and receiver go on a date together at a nightclub. -Mohawk!Mark/Neg!Gwen
ultimate date prompt
NIGHTLIFE WAS THE BEST LIFE, the vibrant lights and pounding bass, a mass of bodies moving in sync to the music as if possessed by some otherworldly force. The lingering scent of sweat, sex and desperation in the air with fear soon to be thrown into the mix once the night was over.
Gwen wasn’t much of a party girl in the traditional sense.
She went out, she played along, she tried to have fun but what constituted as fun for her was worlds apart than any of the humans here. She craved violence no matter how much she attempted to push her need to kill down, she wanted to rip someone's beating heart out and stomp on it in the middle of the dance floor, she wanted to drown herself in blood and get off to it later.
But Mark was with her this time and he proved to be a worthwhile distraction, sick and twisted as he was too. It proved to be a perfect match despite their initial rocky introduction, not that she minded. It was an easy answer when he asked her out.
❝ Get me a drink, will you babe ? ❞ she glances up at him with a sickening sweet smile and a tap of her well manicured nails against his arm. ❝ And I think I want the VIP treatment so . . . get us one of those booth things too. Don't kill anyone though, I don't want to get blood on my dress. ❞ not yet, anyway.
@vi1trum [eris] asked; Eris holds up a poorly made walrus plush with a huge grin. “Happy birthday!! I made a tusk warrior to honor your day of birth!”
He was well aware of her fascination with the blubbery-skinned creatures, to the point that they had crossed an entire ocean just to visit them at an exhibit. But not to this extent, where time and effort had been utilised to capture the animal's likeness in plush form, to... well. If he was to be generous, very mixed results.
"Oh, you made this yourself?" Tone is even, bordering on kind as he shows a feigned interest in the hand-crafted gift, with its mismatched eyes and different sized 'tusk' protrusions. "I'm... touched, thank you." Not really, but his mouth did manage to widen in a small but genuine smile at least. Nobody, even back in his GDA days had ever bothered to remind him of his special day, let alone produce a gift.
"I'll give it to Gabriella when I return to her. I bet she'll love it just as much." Provided she was awake, but he of all people knew better than to hope for that outcome.
1 NEW OFFERING — "You have no idea, do you?" - Yasmeen ( @vi1trum )
DEFIANCE IS NATURAL, though perhaps she's right. It stings to admit that, though he stands on the frontlines, the inner machinations of the government are as elusive as the greater good Cecil is always harping on about.
He may work for the GDA, but he's still very much on the outside.
❝ Then explain it, ❞ Mage retorts, arms folding defensively across his teeth. ❝ If I'm so uninformed, tell me how it is. ❞
Arms crossed, the builder floated far above the street, casting his gaze down at the demolished house that stood right across from the home of the Grayson family from the anonymity of the sky. Doubt was seeping into his mind about his current course of action. The family living in that home had been through a great tragedy. Perhaps the man of the house had not died from the conflict he'd wrought upon the country, but he'd fled the planet entirely. Might as well be dead. His alter ego had been laid to rest, after all, and while his body lived, they still had to be grieving his loss.
Grieving without anyone from the community they'd been a part of through him had checked on her. John figured Cecil would have come to them by now. Though the figurehead of a government agency was hardly the same. In fact, he could imagine that Cecil's appearance wouldn't have been met with much excitement, nor would it have given much support.
❛❛ This is ridiculous, ❜❜ he muttered, chastizing himself. This visit was long overdue, and letting himself get caught up in doubt was unlike himself. With a gentle sigh, he lowered himself to the sidewalk, powering down his ring to reveal civilian clothes instead of the lantern uniform. He scrutinized the gift he'd brought. Flowers didn't seem fitting, so he'd gone with a decent bottle of wine, unwilling to come empty-handed.
Stepping up to the door, he knocked firmly, being sure that he was heard. When it opened, he found that he'd failed to find something to say. ❛❛ Hey, Debbie. I came to . . . well to check on you, honestly. ❜❜ Raising the bottle, he offered a smile. ❛❛ Let me in? ❜❜
THE TOPIC OF FRIEZA WAS AN ACTIVE LANDMINE FOR HER.
Nothing was safe from her explosive anger, whether they were inanimate objects or living beings. Where cold logic and cruel meticulousness reigned before, volatile emotionality, primal-brain functions and repressed memories took over:
Red lights flooded hallways and corridors, tight, narrow spaces filled with smoke, walls were covered in blood splatters and brain matter--
She became unreasonable, unreachable, unpredictable.
Running (someone was running, who was it?), panic, a face wet with tears--
She became dangerous in another way--more so than she already was. Maiz, in those states was destructive and untethered, like an unnatural storm that gained traction for each second it existed. (Several Saiyans choked on their own blood).
Her teeth chattered against each other--and it was not from cold. Clenching her jaws did nothing to cover up the mind-numbing hatred of one person who singlehandedly ruined her life within a single night. Frieza, the self-proclaimed Emperor of the Universe, was not a man. He, IT was not a person--but a force, one of reckoning, one of nightmares, one that deserved nothing but hatred.
To make it worse, Maiz had never seen "it" in person, not as a childling or an adult. When she was younger, it was only over screens and scouters. She heard his voice numerous times--that shrill, pompous, annoying, grating thing--and it never settled right with her bones.
"I'll kill him," she snarled under her breath, teeth bared. Her tail--and all the fur on it--stood straight up at attention.
The vast expanse of outer space--stars, atmosphere and all--fell away as unimportant, as she forced herself to stay put, forced herself to not raise her ki and give away her and Mark's location. Her blood boiled--which made her skin immediately hot to the touch, and she didn't breathe. Her anger married her grief married her childhood fear of Frieza--
(His laughter rang out in her nightmares. A woman who looked like Maiz but shorter,-got her head shot off by a red laser beam, her aunt Fasha and mentor, Bardock, laid face down in a puddle of blood, their faces contorted into horror, eyes blankly fixated on her).
She was so far away from him and yet, able to able to recognize the despot by his voice, by how his oppressive ki was. So badly, did Maiz want to fly out of this planet's atmosphere and give chase. So badly, did Maiz wish she was strong (and brave) enough to sneak attack him and force him to eat his own intestines.
But, all she could do was stand in place--tense and angry--sorrowful and frightened. Her fingernails cut into her palms, past skin and deep into muscle, mutated cobalt-blue blood oozing out from between her fingers. She hated him. She hated the idea of letting him get away. She hated him.
SHE HATED THE IDEA THAT HE WALKED FREE.
Her chest heaved, and she coughed, once, twice.
The natural consequences for not breathing was that.
After she got her bearings together--which was no easy feat, due to the intensity of her homicidal urges--her skin and the air around her warmed over, then cooled. From shoulder-down, she shook. It was here that she was able to be reached again. Just barely--but reachable. Mark, bless his equally-as-violent-heart, didn't know that about her the first time--he didn't wait for her calm down, and had tried to console her himself. He tried to reassure her that Frieza would be handled.
However, she lunged at him in a blind rage and rewarded him with a black eye via her elbow. Were he human, the attack would have twisted his head 360 degrees--and broken both his neck and spine in the process.
Maiz wasn't the type to apologize . . . but she was grateful that he didn't hold that against her. She planned to make it up to him by helping him find planets to conquer and overthrow. Planets the Viltrumites could use for whatever they wanted to use them for. (Even if she didn't own these worlds and didn't even have "legal authority" to do such things).
Not that permission mattered when she could always use her slaves to gather intel. After all, the Saiyaness was a conqueror herself.
Regardless, she lost control--and losing control of herself was another thing she hated. The fact that this nearly happened a second time already frustrated her. Her blackened lips formed a tight, straight line.
"They are unreliable," she commented bitterly. She finally tore her gaze from the spot where Frieza no longer was--because he left in a ship surrounded by his sycophants--and turned to Mark, her tail lowered slowly--but not yet relaxed. It was long enough to touch the back of her heel, to brush against the air below her (she was hovering in place). Her eyes narrowed as she willed herself to look strong and imposing as she did before she sensed Frieza, before she spotted him. She had weakened and dead nerve endings in her face, so she wasn't an emotive person--but even with the lack of emotions displayed--
. . . It was clear she was still affected.
"It is nobody's fault but my own for thinking they would heed me. They said he was dead," she revealed, her lips now pulled into a frown. "They said I was several years too late." She closed her eyes briefly, raised her fists and then shook her hands out. She took notice of her bleeding then, but did not seem too concerned about it. "--that if he did come back, they would kill him again. They told me not to worry about it, and if I wish to leave Earth in one piece, I should leave immediately." She flexed and wiggled her fingers, then sighed--now irritated and frustrated in equal measure. She wanted to kill something. Destroy someone. Maybe a civilization, perhaps a planet, or . . .
--but Mark had a good idea.
"Let us go, then. I'm in need of redirection." She sounded a bit distracted saying it, but like all things, Maiz wanted to control the terms and conditions of any situation she was in, at any given time. She wanted it to be her choice.
She wiped the rest of her blood onto her Battle Armor, particularly onto the thigh guards, then rubbed at her palms with either hand.
She did her best to sound more authoritative and like her usual self: cold and composed, this time around. "I'm sure we can find something to benefit us."
@vi1trum ♡'d for a smol starter [ mohawk & nega gwen ]
❝ WHEN I SAID I WANTED TO HAVE FUN I MEANT LIKE . . . MURDER. ❞ where was the fun in an ordinary date ? Weren't they supposed to be BEYOND all this gross human sentimentalism ? Whatever. She'll play along for now because she likes him but Mark knows how quick she is to become bored. ❝ At least rip someone's head off for me. As a treat. ❞
The Viltrumite was grumbling after getting slapped by Gwen for a compliment he gave we. At least he believed it to be one. Glancing up he saw his future cousin in law and quickly rushed over to suddenly stand in front of him with superhuman speed. “I need to get human dating advice….can you help?” -Ben/Viltrumite!Mark
━━ ❝ 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐡..𝐥𝐞𝐭'𝐬 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐢𝐭 '𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠'. ❞ That’d be his first lesson for the day. As for how he can help him out..hmmm. “Also..second thing..just walk up to someone when you want to talk to them.” Ben could only imagine how much of his precious smoothie he might have spilled due to just shock..or even how much chili fries he’d drop. The thoughts alone WERE HAUNTING to say the least, but for the sake of helping out a very misguided friend, he remained strong.
“Okay, when it comes to courting a girl, try paying her a compliment. Tell her that her hair looks nice, or whatever she’s wearing was an excellent choice and let’s not forget the most important five-word sentence you’d ever tell her; I’m sorry you were right.” He’d hope at the very least he’d remember the latter advice when it comes to dealing with Gwen, he’d only hope he’d have the quick wit to realize what he’s apologizing for. “Another thing you could do is listen to her, be attentive, and never refer to a car or anything you drive as a she.”
