xaffreon-relkor replied to your post: opened guild wars 2 and oh geez this update is...
//dude you play gw2??
yep! I love it
though I haven’t played in a while-partially due to laziness and partially due to the fact that I can’t play it at home
seen from United States

seen from Germany
seen from Malaysia
seen from Latvia
seen from France

seen from United States
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from Germany
seen from Greece
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from Moldova
seen from Russia
seen from Ukraine
seen from China
seen from China

seen from Kazakhstan
xaffreon-relkor replied to your post: opened guild wars 2 and oh geez this update is...
//dude you play gw2??
yep! I love it
though I haven’t played in a while-partially due to laziness and partially due to the fact that I can’t play it at home
"I'm going to join NASA and eject myself into the sun." [[Human! any of my characters to Human! one of yours. Go. You Choose. <<<<3333]]
“Xaffreon, no,” Ajjoxil chuckled through his parted lips, adjusting his position on the grass beneath them. His left arm tightened around the waist of his lover, while his free hand pointed to the blanket of stars over them.
“You see the moon? Eject yourself there, and if you actually manage to do it, take me. I’d love to be on an isolated satellite with you.” He pressed a kiss to the back of Xaffreon’s head that rested on his chest. His hand fell from the sky to fall on the blanket, gently pulling it up to cover his stomach.
⚱[[REASON YOURE SOBER HERE YOU GO]]
Send Me a Symbol for Angst!
⚱ -my muse’s reaction to waking up to your muse, beaten by mine, but my muse has no recollection of the night before
The coarse straw of the spread prodding into Wilson’s eye was not his favorite way to wake up, and while he resented the biting autumn wind that invited itself to sleep with him, it did wake him up early. This was, in a twisted way, helpful, because the days were getting shorter and the agenda kept getting longer. After all, winter was approaching with a swift pace.
Wilson’s eyes instantly opened at the cry of a blue-jay; however, an involuntary hiss was drawn out as the gentle morning light reached his irises. The morning air was sharp, biting against his fingertips with an unforgiving breeze, while his head was pounding with traces of pain. It was easy to get rid of such a nasty hangover with simply indulging more alcohol– which Wilson usually did. Carefully, the survivor moved his hand away from his makeshift hay bed and towards the grass, where he patted the area in search of his beloved booze. When he didn’t feel the cold glass of his bottle, he let out a groan and slowly raised himself up. Another breeze slapped his body, and with this, he realized his blanket was not covering him.
“Xaffreon?” came his quiet murmur as he slowly strained himself to open his eyes. “Xaff– Xaffeon, are you here?” When no reply came, the scientist let out a soft groan. His sight appeared after a few moments of rubbing at them with his fists and covering his eyes with his hands to mimic a dark room. But after a minute or so of the action, he began to smell something foul. The scent reminded him of a rabbit’s entrails, but he didn’t remember– not that he could– gutting such a creature last night. After gaining the ability to see once more, he scanned the area that was in front of him.
Nothing in sight, and nothing on the site.
The hungover scientist moved at a sluggish pace as he slowly turned himself around. There was a chance that the stench of blood came from behind him–
Green and blue was the first thing to catch his eyes. There was Xaffreon, lying on his back with his arms outspread with his verdant blood across the grass.
Wilson’s breath hitched as realization settled into his chest, while subtle panic began to float in his stomach. Xaffreon was obviously the source of the stench, and with the alien’s ichor about the area, there must have been a brutal attack. Was Wilson trying to tend to the Akkinerik’s wounds, but passed out from the amount of alcohol in his system or exhaustion? Was that why there was green on his own hands, and why Xaffreon was so far from him?
He called out louder, “Xaffreon!” He began to crawl towards the other, trying to prepare something witty in his head to say before he reached him. By the time he was at the other’s side, the only thing he could say was, “You’re injured… Xaffreon, what the hell happened? Did you get hurt and not tell me?”
Wilson let out a soft sigh as he put a hand to Xaffreon’s neck. He couldn’t even tell if he was alive. This was so much to take in for Wilson. He didn’t know what to do with the migraine he had in his head, his eyes killing him, and with Xaffreon. What was he supposed to do? Probably go and find something to aid Xaffreon’s wounds. The scientist was glad that the other wasn’t cut open, though. There was something positive to be made out of this.
"I'm extremely bad at flirting, William, so I hope you can forgive me, but... I've traveled through dozens upon dozens of star systems, but... I really haven't found anything that can hold a candle to your beauty... You really are a brilliant sight to behold. Each moment of your existence is a reason for me to stay alive. William-- No matter what anyone tells you, you are not a star. You are not a nebula. Nor are you a galaxy. You are the Universe, in its entirety. In its awe-inspiring beauty."
"O-oh. Oh my goodness, I, uh...I don't know what to say..."
[[To Ajjoxil]] "Briars"
“I’m not answering this,” the alien muttered, eyes staring at Xaffreon with a glint of malice visible. “This is unacceptable. I let you ask something and you immediately go to hurt me? You’re such a prick.”
“Fine, here’s your answer: bars.”
"... Me? I mean, we've never met, but you're really pretty and I'm bad at flirting."
The hooded figure blinked behind their mask as this alien tried to flirt with them, (and failed badly obviously) However the honestly was pretty refreshing. “…Thank you for the compliment, but how do you know i’m pretty with this mask on? I could be wearing it because of how hideous I might be.”
BROOOOO MY SCHOOL JUST GOT QUALIFIED AS IB LAST YEAR AND IM DOING MY PERSONAL PROJECT NOW! WHAT DID YOU DO YOURS ON??? I mean like I'm making an interactive story that uses the IB Global Context Relationships and Personal Identities by taking your own actions and putting it into a story where you can either create or destroy civilizations and I rly wanna hear what you did because ur rly fucking creative and I cANT WAIT FOR YOU TO SHOW ME UP BECAUSE HHHHOT DAMN YOURE AMAZING
Aw thanks! Unfortunately I must disappoint you, we don’t have to do such projects ^o^ like at all, this is the first time I’ve heard of something like that :0
┏ ✕ → starter. :: @xaffreon-relkor ┚
If there’s one thing Razer is certain of, it’s that he deeply dislikes these bustling spaceport marketplaces. There are too many people coming and going, pushing and shoving and shouting back and forth as though they’re the only ones around. It’s annoying at best, and intolerable at worst. If it were up to him Razer would be safely back in the Interceptor, secluded away in his quarters where he wouldn’t have to listen to this racket. However, Hal Jordan had insisted they all contribute to the mission that is restocking the ship’s food stores.
And so that is how Razer finds himself here, fighting his way through the stifling mass of people. Biting back an annoyed snarl as he is first elbowed and then shoved to the side, he manages to break free and take refuge in the overhang to the side of one of the shops. For a moment he considers ignoring this mission Jordan sent him on and returning to the ship, but then a flash of blue catches his eye and he realizes he’s not alone in this alleyway.
Turning, he pauses as he evaluates the alien standing there. Well --- they don’t seem to be yelling or pushing, so Razer puts a mark in the maybe not so awful column. Crossing his arms, he gives a nod of greeting. “I don’t suppose you know what type of currency I’m supposed to use here ??”