This is an independent RP and ask side blog (of bedxman) for Chronus from Guilty Gear. do not take any icons used here ⟨ tracking chrxnus ⟩
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Seeing as how I'm finding it difficult to do anything with this muse with the limitations of a side blog, I decided to play around with a few things. Preparing a blog of its own, I am going to be relocating this muse. No longer will he be bound to a side blog, but his own actual full on blog.
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"I understand my situation well, Sol Badguy. In other words, you needn't waste your breath with reiteration. I swear on my fallen Apostles that I shall behave."
A moment is spent in dragging a sigh; Despite the immaturity that accompanied such a gesture. He was already well of the chain's effect before Sol had voiced them. The sensation of his own magical pressure going lifted; Rendering Chronus without ability. Though there was another manner of tools to give Chronus some ability, albeit requiring retrieval. Once Chronus went with Sol to do this task, he would go on to retrieve the remaining arms he had stashed away before-- The fruits of the Cyprus Project, Anti-Backyard material weaponry.
[ ғree ] — “Right. We’ll see how good of a boy ya can be.”
Sol responded with a serious tone, his lips pressing tightly together as he raddled the chain attached to the other male. “Don’t try anything funny. This shit negates magic.” He spat before chewing on his cigarette, turning his head away. “And as much as ya wanna try, ya can’t run faster or farther from Sin, so don’t try it.”
Sin may of not had the stamina of Sol, but he was still a Gear - he’d still be able to outlast Chronus no matter what. Chronus may of been immortal, but he wasn’t a weapon like Sin was. Sin was made to last.
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Upon the yank of his newly acquired chain and collar, Chronus jerks forward. He restraints himself from swearing the other's name from beneath his breath; Forcing himself to swallow his pride, as Sol says, as well as to accept this as one of many eventual punishments. Again, who was he to lament over his own fate, after what he'd taken a part in? Still, this kind of treatment was quite uncomfortable.
"Y... Yes. As you say, this is for only a few days. Until we find out whether or not the Dominator and Baikal are where they should be."
[ ғree ] — “I didn’t say I was gonna play by yer rules.”
Sol snorted, moving forward to clasp the item around the felon’s neck. “Honestly, it’s either ‘kill ya’ or ‘put this shitty collar on yer neck’. Ya can swallow yer pride for a few days, can’t cha?” He laughed, pulling the chain hard to make the male stumble forward.
"Sin didn’t like this shit either…ya will get used to it."
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"What madness is this? To befall the Illyrian area so-- It's making my tea turn sour."
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"If they aren't, that would simply mean that she had been acting for as long as I feared. But, I shall humor you, Sol Badguy. However, I would prefer it if you used my wrist instead."
Chronus lets out a breath. He couldn't bear the thought that their, in actuality, common enemy had been moving for as long as she truly had. Both the Dominator and Baikal had been kept within the Conclave's treasury, never truly used, though Chronus had intended to one day find users for them worth their trust. Of course, that day had never come, most certainly not after what had befallen Baldias.
With a slight shake of his head, he offers up his right wrist to Sol. It was one thing to not trust, but it was enough to belittle and treat as a mere dog. Not that Chronus would voice such a complaint.
[ ғree ] — Brown eyes scanned over the other male without the slightest look of mercy. Sol had shown Elphelt how untrusting he was of her; Chronus was simply getting the same treatment. He crossed his arms and turned his head to the side.
"Ya know what?" Sol said before pausing, shuffling in his bag before producing what appeared to be a simple collar with a even more simple metal chain attached to it; however, it reeked of magic. "Ya can come with me - on this damn chain." He spat before smiling. "If it ain’t where ya said it is, I’ll kick yer ass.. but if it is, I won’t, an you’ll show me where all of them are."
His nose crinkled in his own amusement.
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"And so it has come. The new year. Let it be a good one, to those who are still fighting for their right to existence."
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Send me 'Pucker up!' to give my Muse an Unexpected New Years Kiss!
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I just realized that Chronus reflecting on the turn of the year would be post-Xrd since, if I remember correctly, Xrd's story mode ends on November 4th, which means--
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"At last, one year ends and in its place another begins. What happenings shall effect us as a race in the time to come? I can't help but both await and dread the coming days. But first, a drink-- To us."
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cxtrina has fallen from her tree...

"I apologize, but you'll have to make pardon of my lack thereof preparation. I wasn't expecting such a... guest."
Though polite in tone, or rather aiming for such courtesy, Chronus was quite confused. Guests were few and far between anymore, but when they had come they were of the already known company. Not like this stranger before him; Standing in ways differing from that of any he'd met before. Humorously enough, it would seem that there was a first for anything, even after two-hundred years of existence.
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Lets start a new tagging game.
Name of your muse.
—Chronus
One picture you like best of your muse’s fc.
Two headcanons you have for your muse that you never told anyone.
—Chronus is the youngest of the four Apostles, though that isn't saying much by this present point in time. —Chronus carries a pocket watch, a relic of the old world, that he uses to keep track of the time that's passed between meetings with the other Apostles. Presently, it's used to keep track of how much time has passed since Baldias's passing, until they once again come together in the "next life".
Three things that your muse loves doing in their free time.
—Being mysterious. —Drinking tea. —Formal conversation.
Four people that your muse loves.
—Baldias. —Libraria. —Axus. —The Original.
Three fond childhood memories.
—Meeting the others who would one day become known as The Original's Apostles. —Traveling the globe and sharing the wisdom of magic with the global populace. —Establishing the "Tearoom" from within the Conclave, alongside Baldias, Libraria, and Axus.
Two things your muse regrets.
—Being the last remaining Apostle. —Not enjoying more conversation with the other Apostles.
One thing they’d go through heaven or hell to save/change.
—He doesn't care if their gambit failed no matter what, he only wishes that he wasn't the sole survivor of it; Being that he now must bear the weight of his fallen Apostles in observing, and preserving, the fate of humanity.
Tag ten people to do the same thing.
—Too lazy to tag. Whoever wants to do it, may do it.
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Bravery is [ NOT] fearlessness.
Bravery is knowing your fears,
and CHOOSING to
———{ overcome }——— them.
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homxnculus has fallen from her tree...
Now this was a certain development; Chronus's attention becoming snagged by the particular key carried in the arms of the woman before him. Its design was very reminiscent of a similarly detailed artifact sourcing from the reports of the P.W.A.B., was this--? Flament Nagel--?
"Pardon my curiosity, but that key-- Or rather, that weapon-- Yes, I believe I've read about a tool with that appearance before. Which must make you its owner--?"
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The idea of taking the OutRage and producing more was truly a tempting thought, however one that the Conclave had never acted upon. If they desired to get technical about it, the products of the Cyprus Project were as close as they had gotten to reproducing the OutRage. Breathing becoming momentarily hitched, Chronus isn't pleased over Sol's reference towards the lost members of the Conclave.
"I understand your reasoning for the lack of faith, thus, do what you will. I'm not to stand here and convince your opinion of me to otherwise."
Chronus remains in place; Not wishing to risk the danger of upsetting the Sol Badguy further. Nor did he wish to risk a further remark to only upset himself. Not that Chronus held any right to resent his actions; As Libraria had said to him before, they reaped what they sowed, and they had done so appropriately. His only choice now was to do what little he could, and live.
[ ғree ] — “Why would I trust ya? Ya can just build up another Senate. Ya haven’t lost power, ya’ve just lost men.” Sol responded, bringing a cigarette to his lips to have it light itself. No use to do his “finger lighter” parlor trick here; the member of the Senate would know exactly what Sol was capable of.
"I trust ya as far as yer scrawy ass arm can throw me." Which could of been far, honestly, but that wasn’t the point. "I don’t got much t’trust ya on. I kin most like find them on m’own. So why should I trust ya?"
He did not want those weapons to combine them — he wanted to destroy them, for they were useless now. They were last resorts, and, well… They simply weren’t needed anymore. To destroy them would get rid of most of the power around here. “How do I know ya didn’t just research them an’ make more?” That was a big worry for the elder Gear.
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