#{ anyways here's all of rykers info!!! }

[ask-fireflycod]

Ryker "FireFly" Sullivan

MUSE AND MOD INFO UNDER CUT

╰┈➤ PHYSICAL APPEARANCE:

RYKER LAYNE SULLIVAN - HE/HIM

➤ Very lanky build. Has visible muscle on biceps, but otherwise slender and "lithe." ��� Particularly skilled with ranged weapons. Sniper.

➤ Born October 30th, 1994 (31 years old) ~ Killarney, Ireland

➤ Pansexual / Queer — 🩵 @feiyunaskblog ; 🩷 @doctor-dove

╰┈➤ MEDICAL:

➤ Diagnosed with an anxiety disorder at age seven. Family assumed to have a history of it. ➤ Prefers to use texts, notes or sign language rather than verbal communication due to damage upon vocal cords. Can still talk. ➤ Seems to have troubles breathing after running or training/exercising for an extended period of time. Possible asthma.

➤ On a few medications. Sertraline (Zoloft) for his anxiety, and a low dose of Melatonin for insomnia. ➤ On the spectrum (AuDHD), but never was able to get diagnosed.

╰┈➤ PERSONALITY & OTHER TIDBITS:

➤ Observant, Intelligent, Determined, Adaptable. ➤ Reserved, Awkward, Dry, Stern. ➤ Apathetic, Clumsy, Critical, Impulsive.

➤ Has Aquaphobia, Trypophobia, and is a major Germaphobe. Knows English and French - Understands a bit of Spanish.

Ryker struggles to talk about how he's feeling. Which leads to very awkward moments between him and whoever's talking with him.

Been forced to make one of these. "Team Bonding" or some shite. Was told it'll keep my morale up, so here I am.

Ryker Sullivan. Staff Sergeant under Price's Task-Force came from the Ireland army. Callsign is FireFly. (Yes, seriously.)

Not much else to say about myself, afraid. Quite a boring bloke. Be seeing you. - R.S

{ HAIIII welcome to my oc blog!!! My name is Cybrr or A.J and this is my millionth askblog :3!!! My main blog is @cybrrpunqq, that's where I follow / follow back from!!! }

{ I really wanted to join in on the COD askblog community so here I am!!! Unfortunately I'm very socially anxious and shy so it takes me a while to gather the courage to interact LOL }

{ I am 20 years old! I really prefer that minors do not interact with this blog due to crude themes, raunchy humor and implied nsfw. I use any pronouns listed (he/she/they/it/hum/xe) ! you can default to they/them or he/him, i do not mind!! I'm also a cringeloser but thats ok because I am free <3 }

{ There r only a few rules for this blog: don't be an asshole !!!!! being an asshole to my character is fine but pls be nice when speaking OOC - anything that my character says is fictional and does not represent my own views on things! I DO NOT AND WILL NOT ENGAGE WITH ANYTHING POLITICAL!!! also no ai get away from me }

RP? - Yes!! ASKS? - Yes!! REBLOGS / COMMENTS? - Yes!!

In short: PLEASE INTERACT WITH ME!!!

[oddfluphenazine]

INTRO POST PART 3[?] YWAH

hi guys my name is elliot or sébastien or eridan or karkat or traffic or arc or twix or or or or

i am a minor and stuff. I think

01.21.24 <3 m’y partner doesnr even know what a crustacean is. i love him anyways.

I havw UHHHHHH pulls out list Autism Adhd Bpd annnnnfd did and I also have No Word Filter so I say Stuff sometimes that is not pleasant

I like uhhhhhhhhh homestuck and phighting and regretevator and gjost and pals and Madeleine phantasms and the mandela catalogue and will wood and other things that I don’t remember at the moment

Uhhhh sometimes my alters post on here. they have their proxy and/or their name in the tags. And my tag is #oddelliots

sys info under the cut ifk there isn’t much of it im workinh on a syslist ifk

we are the uhhh graphite sys or the fluphenazine sys and we are bodily minor and VERY introject heavy. 75+ members

not diagnosed yet because the option is *unavailable* to me at the moment.

uhhhnnmm yeah. there’s that. I won’t list my headmates because I don’t wanna update this wvery single time a new alter forms (very often)

ummmm if you wanna know more about a headmate of mine. uhhh ask them. they like to Yap

all my headmates blogs

@bivee - ❕— b

@brokercoins - his tag is lit just his @

@booombox - #🎚️ boombox

@subspacetripmined - #🔺 subspace

@pussypounder2000 (seriously???) - #📁 Sebastian

@lemons-tart - #🍋 lem

@slingshotter - whatever slings tag is ifk

@playthroughs - #🗝️ Ryker

[littlemissnellie]

Aaaaah! Hi guys!

First of all I’ve got to apologise for the lack of Golgotha Manor posts recently, I promise they’re coming, it’s just that I’ve been a little preoccupied with putting this together…

Not too long ago I managed to hit 250 followers, which is absolutely insane, I literally cannot find the words to thank you all for following along with my mess of a blog. So I thought that I’d put a little something together for you to try to show my gratitude!

I was going to do sim requests again, like when I hit 150 followers, but tbh my sim requests are always open, I’ll make you any sim, any time, lol. So instead, I thought that I’d make some sims of my own for you to use however you please!

So yes, here are my babies! I’ll put their little intros and cc links under the cut and if you actually want to download them, they’re up on the gallery and my origin id is: cherrygorilla.

I really hope that you like them, guys! And if you actually do choose to download any of them, please keep me updated on their lives in your save, I’m too attached to my bbies and would loooooove to know what they’re up to!

Thank you again for 250! I love you guys so much, thank you for sticking by me all this time! And here’s all the info for my bbies…

Oakley Forrester

Aspiration: Freelance Botanist

Traits: Cheerful, Loves Outdoors & Insider

Oakley Forrester is a quiet, relatively shy soul with a strong passion for gardening. He’s had a green thumb practically since he came out of the womb and would always be found playing in his mum’s greenhouse amongst the tomatoes. Besides his beloved plants he doesn’t have a great deal of friends, well none that are his age anyway. He may be the youngest member of the gardening club by about forty years, but he doesn’t mind at all. The homemade jams, weekly bingo-night updates and just general company he gets whenever they see each other at the local allotment never fails to warm his heart. He just needs to find the right person to bring him out of his shell and away from his planter boxes for a little while to show him that there’s more to life that compost and cream teas…

CC: Freckles, Floppy Hat

Adele Circuit

Aspiration: Computer Whiz

Traits: Genius, Perfectionist, Squeamish

Adele Circuit is completely obsessed with all things technology. She’s always been fascinated by buttons and screens, but it wasn’t until she hit school and actually started learning about computing that her passion really took off. No one would ever be able to tell when she’s majorly geeking out over a new piece of software though with her signature, cold air that often gets her mistaken for a huge bitch. A lot of people are pretty intimidated by her, but not because of her computer-prodigy intelligence, because of her apparent constant grumpiness. Once you take the time to get to know her though, and listen to her rave about binary coding, you’ll quickly find that she’s just a big softie with a resting bitch-face. She knows the ins and outs of every computer system, but anything outside of that, like getting to know a fellow human is waaaayyy out of her comfort zone…

CC: Freckles, Lipstick, Eyeliner (03), Glasses, Choker, Nail Polish

Evie Roberts

Aspiration: Public Enemy

Traits: Clumsy, Hot-Headed, Kleptomaniac

Evie Roberts is the greatest evil mastermind to have ever lived. At least that’s what she wants you to think. In reality, she can barely run twenty feet without tripping over her own two feet. She doesn’t let her clumsiness deter her though, her fiery passion for wreaking havoc burns nonetheless. And besides, the mishaps she gets herself into, and the various injuries that they leave her with, just make her look even more menacing. And when you have a baby-face like Evie, you need all the help you can get to strike terror into your enemies’ hearts. The whole reason that Evie turned to crime is down to her face really, and her determination to shed the happy-go-lucky, pretty, girl-next-door persona that everyone seems to have pinned on her. But will her short temper, knack for stealing and desperation to be bad be enough to persuade the world that she’s not the big sweetheart they all know that she is on the inside?

CC: Leggings, Black Eye I’ve put a different one on her on the gallery, which is here, Hat, Eyeliner, Hair, Lipstick, Nail Polish, Skirt

Ryker Bass

Aspiration: Party Animal

Traits: Dance Machine, Noncommittal, Outgoing

Ryker Bass still wants to believe that he’s in high school because that’s what’s easiest for him. In high school he had friends around him at all times, he had a secure routine and he had a promise of hope for the future. Now all he really has is…himself. He may have had the time of his life in high school, but that’s because he wasted all of his time there, and now he wants nothing more than to just turn back the clock. Homework was a totally foreign concept to him, a red solo cup was extremely familiar though. In fact, one was practically glued to his hands. But all that meant was that he wound up with nothing more than some pretty good dance moves and very few qualifications. Without any guidance from school, and because his partying habit has destroyed his relationship with his success-driven parents, Ryan, who now goes by Ryker because it makes him feel cool, is left drifting from place to place, from job to job, from friend to friend, from relationship to relationship, with no idea of where his life is going. He needs a little more than a crazy hair colour and ‘bad boy’ name to help him find out who he really is though…

CC: Glasses, Freckles, Shoes, Jeans, Beard

Adagio Solo

Aspiration: Musical Genius

Traits: Music-Lover, Good, Romantic

Adagio Solo practically has melodies running through his veins, music is just a huge part of who he is. He can play the piano and guitar with a talent that just cannot be taught, he just has a magical touch when it comes to instruments, and his voice his a whole different game all together. Even when speaking his voice has a sort of musical quality that is so pleasing to the ears that the hairs on the back of your neck stand up to listen, so when he begins to sing it’s as if the notes are spinning themselves into the finest silk and wrapping around you until you feel that you’re as much a part of the song as Adagio is. When he’s not serenading his adoring fans, Adagio can usually be found rhapsodizing about love to…anyone that will listen really. Whether it’s about his latest ventures into the romantic field, or the bewilderment that the rest of the world won’t just forget about conflict and join together in love and harmony really depends on the day though. And with his endless charisma and silky-smooth voice, it seems that Adagio can charm anything that breathes. That might not always be the case though…

CC: Denim Jacket

Katie Kapital

Aspiration: City Native

Traits: Gloomy, Vegetarian, Art Lover

“Yes, that is Captial with a ‘K’. Alliteration provides a lot of hidden depth.” is something that can usually be heard tumbling from Katie’s red-painted lips, which are almost always fixed into a pained frown of despair. You see, her surname wasn’t always spelt with a ‘K’, but when she discovered her 'true calling in life’ was literature, she felt that her lifestyle should coordinate. Her ventures into the world of poetry seem to have made the biggest impact on her though, and, contrary to what her friends will tell you, it’s not because the coffee is free on slam poetry night. When she’s not depicting her first-world struggles through rhyme, she can usually be found crying over a lack of vegetarian options or just nothing at all. Will she ever be able to get her priorities in check, or will she be an emotional, hipster mess forever?

CC: Necklace, Hat (I don’t think this is the exact one, but it’s pretty much the same), Leggings, Moles, Lipstick, Cropped Jumper, Glasses, Eyeshadow, Eyeshadow (2), Hair, Earrings, Jeans, Nail Polish, Skirt

Once again, thank you sooooo much for 250 and I hope that you like my bbies! Let me know your favourite! I love you guys!

[rykerelias-archive]

TRANSFERRED FILE. || @cardshcrp Remy & Elias. VERSE: modern au. ( mutant. undercover. ) 005. THREAD: to be named.

   Another day another dollar, that was the motto he lived by, so far as any of the Guild members were concerned – and honestly, all in all, as lives went, as jobs went, this one wasn’t exactly unpleasant.  He’d never been any place quite like New Orleans, vibrant and alive and dark and musty all in one, wrapped up in an energy that he just couldn’t place, couldn’t name.  It felt OLD and primal… He liked it, and it unnerved him, all in one.   He’d been there nearly a year now, working his way slowly through the lower tiers of the Guild, doing his thing, keeping himself just enough on the radar to keep a slow upward momentum, pulling the jobs he’d been assigned with just enough finesse and gusto to get in and get out, careful to never leave too much blood in his wake. That wouldn’t sit well with ANY of the many eyes on him, unless it happened to be mutant blood, in which case he was pretty sure Stryker’d get his jollies off to it but – that was something that was entirely neither here nor there.

   He had an apartment, small, one bedroom, living room, small dining room attached to the kitchen, open terrace balcony that was one of his favorite parts.  A part time job covered the day to day expenses, unable to touch the pay that he’d accrued through his less than illustrious career under Stryker’s command.  The money from the jobs with the Guild was play money, but he didn’t often indulge. Maybe blow off steam, pick up a girl, get wasted, do a few lines and go back to business as usual the next day. Generally, though, he just stayed low, out of the lime light, keeping his ear to the ground, making his random meets and passing on whatever he thought would be most relevant, or whatever it was that Stryker was most itching to get the down low on.   Otherwise, he mostly just chilled, enjoying the little bit of freedom, or illusion of it anyway, he was afforded, unless he got called in to HQ.

   It wasn’t like they were required to give him notice, but he’d still half grumbled when he’d stared at the notification on his phone at six in the morning, an alert to be at the headquarters by eight.  Sure, they’d given him time, but that didn’t mean heWANTED to be awake.  Sleeping in was a luxury he hadn’t been able to afford most of him life, and he’d grown rather fond of the idea.  Still, he’d shoved off the sheets, clipped his way through his morning routine – short and sweet, still, and by 6:20 he’d been out the door to head to one of the local bodegas that served a local breakfast sandwich that he scarfed a couple of down on his way through the city.  He killed time for a good hour just walking; knowing the ins and outs of the place he’d called home had saved his ass more than once and with the winding, tangled mess of back alleys and avenues and streets that started as one name and ended as another – it was a fucking wonder anyone ever made it to their destination.

   Twenty til, he was at the doors to the HQ, passing through the checks to make his way inside, wandering through to the kitchen to grab a cup of coffee and out into the courtyard behind for a smoke, until the last glance to his wristwatch confirmed it was time to head back inside.  Stubbing out the smoke, downing the last of the coffee and tossing the paper cup, he made his way towards the usual meeting area – caught by one of the … clerks, he’d guess was the best term, and diverted to one of the lesser used rooms, a library that was probably worth more than he’d make in a few lifetimes, leather bound tomes stretching from floor to ceiling across the walls, some more fragile pieces displayed behind glass, marble busts and woven tapestries displayed at whim.  Ironically, a mine waiting to be cultivated, though not one of the members of the Guild would dare – nothing here was worth the wrath that the heads of the families would bring down on someone as idiotic as that.  

   A sweeping glance, his attention settling on a small cluster of people, mostly familiar faces, none that seemed to warrant the kind of setting –   There was a momentary pause, a half hitch in his stride as he made his way towards the center of the room, his gaze drawn, lingering, on the dark-haired figure that loitered casually behind the others. No FUCKING way.   His gaze drifted, his hands settling loosely, shoved into the pocket of his hoodie as he loping steps came to a stop just shy of the couch and settees the others were sat on, a light jerk of a chin in the direction of the others.   “Should’ve warned me the big dogs were gonna be here, my man,” he said, to the one that typically handled out assignments, doling out jobs to those he saw best fit.  “I would’ve worn my proper duds,” he protested mildly, a half smirk touching on his lips before his attention turned again, briefly, towards the one and only Remy LeBeau.  He didn’t try to offer a hand or introduce himself.  Either the man knew who he was, or he didn’t care to – if it was something else, he’d let him make the first move.

           AH, there’s his special interest. Not that he bothers to show he’s noticed, of course; he’s busy linking his arm through Baptiste’s, leaning down to whisper in his ear, something to make his old friend laugh condescendingly and leave the others to wonder what (or more likely WHO) he’s speaking of.

In reality, it’s just another bad pickup line, but it’s the APPEARANCEof things that mattered, and it works like a charm, as usual.

Remy takes his time with it, happy to let the newcomer sweat a bit. Crooking his finger at the assembled thieves one by one, he beckons them over - alone, in pairs, once a group of five - and speaks with them. It’s quick, concise, and thorough, accompanied by flash drives, file folders, and once a dagger. Specially tailored jobs for hand-picked individuals, each and every one more than capable of doing the work. Master thieves, fences, appraisers - they disappear as quickly as they’d come.

Forty-five minutes, and Elias is left alone with the King of Thieves. Cocking his head at the other, Remy allows a lazy smile to spread across his face, cheeks dimpling as he jerks his chin in a silentC’MON.

“C’MERE, HOMME,” he chuckles, and holds up a manila folder, waving it at him teasingly with one hand even as he extends the other for a shake. “I GOT WORK FOR YOU, MONSIEUR RYKER. OR D’YA PREFER ELIAS? EITHER WAY, IT’S GOOD TO MEETCHA.”

Waiting was a BITCH. Sure, it was a skill he’d had to cultivate over the years.  Waiting for the go call on missions, waiting for a target to make its appearance, waiting for the right time to strike – it was different, though, in combat scenarios. He’d known what he was waiting for, known that in the end the built up tension and adrenaline would lead to something, that all that pent up ENERGY would be released in a torrent of violence and bloodshed and that when it was over he’d go back to based, wash away the dirt and grime and blood and sleep like the dead for however long he could.  Lather, rinse, repeat.   But this kinda bullshit?  

This was the kind of waiting that made his teeth ache and his muscles burn, where he had to find someplace to set himself, some place to lounge and look placid and uncaring when really he was about as impatient and irritated by the whole mess as could be imagined.  The only thing that gave him the necessary control to ride it out, to drop back and lean against one of the STURDIER display tables, hips settled against the desk, one long leg stretched out over the other was the fact that he was currently in the room with the Big Dog.   The chances of him actually coming face to face with the guildmaster had been slim to none from the get go.  He couldn’t pass up the opportunity, just because he would much rather be killing time doing nothing on his own couch.

Of course, it didn’t help that one by one, little by little, the others got pared away, shuffled around, handed out files and jobs, weapons and equipment as needed, while all he had to do was sit and listen.  CLICK. The Zippo lighter lid flicked openCLACK. It closed.  Almost silently, quieter than it could have been, every thirty seconds or so, almost on the dot.  Counting.   Listening  Watching, all under the vague guise of boredom, observing the ongoing meetings with half lidded gaze, wishing he could snag a smoke more than anything.  But this was the kind of potential info he was here in the first place.   With each passing group, with each man or woman that departed, his stomach grew tighter, his jaw clenched a little longer.  Click.  Clack.

A tilt of his head, a slow jut of his chin came first in acknowledgment of Remy’s gestures and words, pushing himself up off of the desk, dropping his lighter back into his jeans pocket as he wandered towards wher Remy was, a vaguely curious look cast in the direction of the folder that the Guildmaster held in one hand.  His own hand extended, calloused and rough and strong, to shake Remy’s, briefly, curtly. He made no effort to impress or intimidate with it – there, and gone again, if released.  “Either’s fine,” he acknowledged with a shrug, his hands slipping back into the pocket of his hoodie once the handshake ended, his tall, broad frame sinking, folding down into the chair opposite of where Remy loitered. His posture was idle, lounge worthy even, but a sharp enough eye would see the stance beneath it all, ready to coil, spring away, dodge at any moment.  “Pleasure’s mine, for sure,” he replied, a faint tilt of his head in deferment. “So what’s this job and – not that I’m complainin’ or anything but – most of these other guys, they’ve been here a helluva lot longer than me so.  Y’sure you don’t got somebody better for whatever it is?”  A vague deferment, a hint of self depreciation, his language and drawl specifically targeted to make him appear non-threatening, a lesser species.

        “Mm.” Good handshake, even if the guy was a little too quick to pull away. Elias is cautious, that much is obvious. It’s a good thing, maybe. To be expected, anyway; he’s never met someone for the first time that wasn’t. Something about facing down a mutant that could blow the place sky-high in an instant made people real wary.

Remy takes his time settling, keeping the folder in his grip rather than sliding it across to the other. Not yet, not yet. “You can drop the humble shit,” he grins, cheeks dimpling. “If youreally wanna use that excuse? Half the people in the room was in this business before I was born, but here I am sittin’ pretty. Experience ain’t talent, and I like it when people stay straight with me.”

A beat, and then he shrugs, unable not to crack the joke that’s sitting heavy on his tongue. “Or decidedly not straight, whichever, but that ain’t the point at the moment.”

He taps the folder, sliding it over the table with a fingertip. “I like keepin’ an eye out for rising talent. And before you try wavin’ it off, shove it. You ain’t failed a job yet, and that’s unusual, however messy the execution is. That’s real good.”

Leaning on his elbows, he slides the mirrored lenses of his shades down and pins Elias with his infamous devil eyes, red and unblinking, for a long, long moment. “I like that kinda record.” A vague gesture at the file, and he’s pushing his glasses back up with an easy smile. “So, here we are. Don’t get too freaked out, handsome, if you think I’m singlin’ you out. I like t’make it a habit to drag promising new blood along wit’ me on the occasional recreational job that I take. It’s good experience for you, and it lets mehave a look at how you work.”

It’s the truth, but it’s a warning, too, and if Elias is smart? He’ll know it. It’s a quick way for Remy to tell him I’m watching, as well as implying his future personal endorsement should the other excel. All very cushy and neat, directly indirect.

“This ain’t anything too rough. My lovely wife and I have noticed some of her folk have been slackin’ off, so I’m gonna shake a little wakey-wake into ’em. In other words - ”

His smile widens, utterly saccharine.

“I’ll be breakin’ into a compound of assassins alone to teach ’em the wonders of security and provide a little free demolition for their new remodel, and I could use a little covering fire. Comparatively, your risk will be low, as long as you’re keepin’ a fair distance. Of course, you’re free to decline, but it’ll be fun, promise.”

And if you’re stupid enough to try shooting me in the back, you’ll find out the hard way I’m faster than a bullet, and I’ll find out you’re another ladder-climber to get rid of.