#Aile mmx | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bellygunnr · 6 years ago

Text

Calculating Twilight

Aile knew that Greye was fragile-- just how fragile, however, she had not measured until that very night. It was a long-haul mission on a technicality, requiring Aile and Greye to stake out an old watchtower for the better part of a day. They were nearing their tenth hour, and Greye was nearing his last straw. He curled up against her with tired, baleful eyes, Model A resting on his boot. The thick cables protruding from his chestguard wrinkled in his hands.

“When can we go home?” Greye finally asked, his voice a bare whisper.

“Our shift ends in an hour. It’ll be okay,” Aile murmured. “At least there hasn’t been any activity, right?”

Greye’s eyes steeled. “No,” he said. “We had mavericks twice today.”

He pointed at his blackened, charred shoulder as if to prove his point. He had been grazed by the blast of a missile-launching fellow about three hours ago, yet had refused to retreat. Now it looked like he was preparing to use it as leverage.

“Well… yes,” she agreed. “Once we get home, we’ll get you fixed up, okay?”

The boy nodded. An hour could not come quick enough-- but thankfully, their mission concluded without any further action.

The narrow nurse’s office was comforting to Greye, if only because he slept in the back room. Aile picked through his hair as the doctor fixed up his shoulder, fussing over him like a worried mother. He didn’t protest, but he didn’t acknowledge her either.

“Feel better?” she ventured.

“Tired,” he responded after a long pause. “What time is it?”

“A little after eight in the evening…” Her fingers caught on a tangled knot of silver hair. Mindful, she picked through it gently. “You should get some rest.”

Greye did not get some rest.

The next time they met, Greye was on a solo mission. Smoke billowed freely from a festering wound in his back, dual pistols steaming from overuse. Worried hunters back home had been trying to contact him for hours to no avail and in a fit of desperation-- they called Aile. She would be able to get through to him.

Hopefully.

Aile hadn’t been able to get close to the youngster either, not until he was finished with the fight. Pain radiated out from his frame, grey eyes dim with the weight of the world. He barely recognizes his senior.

“Kid, you look like you need to get home…”

“There’s more to do,” he hissed out. “This isn’t finished.”

Model A-- she can’t hear him, but his energy pulses slightly. Greye shakes his head vehemently.

“I need to keep going. I have a spare tank, it’s fine.”

Aile couldn’t bite back the impressed whistle in time. Greye hisses again then tosses his head back, clumsily downing that spare tank. Most of it spills onto the front of his vest, bubbling where it hits open wounds. Jesus…

Before she can speak, Greye fills the room with light. He seems to swell to twice his size before she can see again-- and well, she had forgot about the Model’s little skill. Where once a fourteen year old boy stood, a hulking stag panted in his wake.

“Shit, are you sure that’s safe, kiddo?”

No response.

The wall crumbles into dust as the boy-turned-Pseudoroid charges forward.

Greye is fast in this form. Aile can hardly keep up equipped even with ZX, their gentle chatter keeping her focused and alert. She leaps in the wake of Buckfire-but-Not’s craters, finding purchase and propulsion. She takes out what enemies Greye misses.

“He’s really... “ her voice trails off.

Reminds me of you, Zero, chirps a small voice.

I was never so bad!

He really was so bad, once upon a time.

The lines between Greye and Buckfire blur as he embraces the Pseudoroid’s data. Memories not quite his own feel real and he relishes in the pleasure of moving. His mission objective is a thing of the past-- what was it? Why was he still out here? Had he not already beat the last enemy? No…

There was something he had to find.

An item, yes-- a flower for a child. She was small- maybe six or seven- and she had never seen a flower before, beyond the artificial plants within the bounty camp’s homes. That was a shame. Even Greye had seen a real flower, and he was… undeserving of it, to say the least. He must find a flower.

The concept is easy enough for Buckfire to grasp. Flowers. Find a flower without harming the flower. Bring the flower back home-- that’s where things became nebulous. Home was either his chambers in Weil’s castle, or the medical center of the camp. The two minds deliberated together.

Ah.

The buildings are beginning to recede now, reducing their high-altitude footholds until they are forced to land on solid ground. Greye charges forward with a roar, sweeping blindly across the ground, flame jetting wispily from his antlers. Flowers… Plants, something, had to be here! Yet he saw only barren earth.

WARNING:: ENERGY at CRITICAL LEVELS Abruptly, power is sapped and rerouted from his hydraulic legs, forcibly drawn into the most essential functions. Buckfire/Greye collapse harshly and Model A detaches with a strained cry, leaving Greye sprawled on the ground.

What is wrong with you, Greye?! Jeez!

Aile is grateful when her charge’s mad dash comes to an abrupt halt, his diminutive frame sprawled and unconscious against scorched earth. She kneels beside him, fingers pressing to the center of his belly where you could feel a Reploid’s fuel pump. Even when they were inactive, it still flowed, but Greye’s was terribly still.

“HQ, this is Aile. I think we need a direct link back to the-- Airship.”

“Right away, ma’am. Two passengers?”

“Indeed,” she says gravely. “Right to the medical ward,” she adds.

He looks even more pitiful like this… Like a wet rat, Model A says mournfully.

What was he looking for, A? X asks gently. They float together, hovering just above a pair of surgeons operating on Greye.

A flower, A says. But he was going in the wrong direction.

If the situation weren’t so dire, X could have laughed. Instead he merely sighed, flipping himself upside down so his gem was in the direction of the floor. By the time Aile had confronted him, the boy was already half-dead. And by the time she had apprehended him…

Well.

It couldn’t have been any more timely.

At least dear Model A didn’t seem overly worried about his partner.

Aile kneels before a tombstone, head bowed and hands clasped, her thoughts slow and meandering. The stone is a simple affair- a titanium post, arms folding across it, paying homage to a Reploid who had lived a short life. Her heart twists in her chest.

“Giro,” she says, and her voice is frail. “I’m training him. Trying to, at least. He’s a tough nut to crack.”

Her voice cracks, and she splutters a laugh. Of course.

“That boy is crazy, though, Dad. Not in a bad way, but more of a Vent way…”

She swallows. Greye was something special, and he was her kid now, and fucking up was not something she could consider right now.

“He’s in the medical ward, right now. Intensive care. His fuel pump was ripped out by some Pseudoroid, but he went tearing off halfway across the city for a flower!”

The stone is silent and cold. She heaves a shuddering sigh. The tombstone was never as warm as the real thing, but Giro had moved on, and that was for the best. If only she could do right by his memory.

“I’m really trying. He’s just a kid! He’s fourteen, dad, but his eyes are the angriest things I’ve ever seen. Even in the operating room... But he’s angry at himself, isn’t he?”

Words slide from her mouth like water, uprooting and filtering the contents of her heart after months of keeping it in. She was some kind of parent, some kind of influential figure, and barely scraping her twenties.

“What would you do, Giro? If you had to help Greye, what would you say?”

The tombstone leers at her as she leans back, the nameplate glinting in the sunlight.

[ GIROUETTE ]

“Yeah, me too,” she sighs. She wipes at her eyes with her gloves, swallowing down a quiet sob. Damn it. She was supposed to be past that by now-- Giro had died so long ago. But her heart still burned with the loss.

Aile slowly stands up, brushing away the dirt and grass that had collected over her clothes. As she does so, she sees something move beneath the arm of Giro’s gravestone, a flicker of color in a shadow. She kneels back down to inspect it--

A daisy has sprouted beside the titanium testimony, its head weighed down by its own bud. The petals are still closed, though she can see slips of white peeking through, and several more bundles of unopened flowers curled beside it. Her hand brushes along the stem, and the daisy jumps, the petals abruptly unfurling like a small sun.

“Awh, Dad…”

The Bounty Hunter’s camp is the same as the last time Greye saw it. There’s a few more residents, of course, but he had quickly learned that to be the nature of such a camp. Bounty hunters moved around a lot. A lot of them didn’t come back, either, though he was fortunate enough that all his friends were still here. He smiles at them now, waving enthusiastically yet never stopping long enough to chat.

He has some place to be. There’s a flower in his hand.

It’s a delicate daisy, thin and frail. Its petals are barely unfurled from its bud, the roots not yet taken into the pot. Greye is mindful not to move too fast for fear of scaring the plant. It has a lovely home waiting for it, with someone small and brave and deserving. She’d probably even name it…

The tower stretches high into the sky before him, a stone testimony. He flashes a smile at the Reploid who guards it.

“Eh? You look chipper today, kid…” The guard says, baffled.

“Do you know if Emi is still home, Elliot? I really need to see her,” Greye asks imploringly. He ignores the comment.

“She’s upstairs, with Clyde,” Elliot supplies. “Go get her.”

“A, you gotta A-Trans with me before we see her,” Greye hisses.

Wh-why?! I thought you didn’t like doing that in camp!

“Emi likes it. She said I looked cool!”

Well, it’s nice to be appreciated…. By some people!

Clyde is leaned against the wall, Emi in his ginormous lap, a book held between his hands. The cover is tattered and faded, yet the words still seem to be fresh, as the big Reploid reads them theatrically to the child. His rattles and booms conceal Greye’s approach, though the little daisy seems to recoil in on itself at the sound. He teases the petals reassuringly.

“Er, Clyde,” he says gently. Now that he’s here, he feels slightly awkward in full battle regalia.

(It looks cool, he reminds himself. Got to do it.)

“Clyde,” he says again. The big man finally pauses mid-word, arms haphazardly dropping back to his sides, Emi giggling in the abrupt silence--

“Ah! Greye! I wasn’t expecting you here! What’s that in your hands?” Clyde booms. The book closes with a snap and his expression is confused, searching out the silvers and oranges of Greye’s armor.

“It’s a gift, er… Emi, I found this for you,” he admits. He drops to one knee, proffering the flower pot.

The moment hangs in limbo.

Emi’s eyes sparkle, honey-gold in a shaft of sunlight, her cheeks rosy with excitement. Her hands are held together against her chest, quivering, hesitating, as if the flower might wilt and shatter if she were to reach out and touch it. She reminds Greye of the daisy, and he wishes her to grow as strong as the daisy.

“It’s okay. You can hold it, it’s in the pot,” he urges quietly.

Emi finally reaches the pot, accepting it gingerly from Greye’s gloved hands.

“It’s real?” she asks in awe.

“It’s real,” Greye promises.

#mega man #mega man zx #megaman zx #mmx #aile #grey #three laws of robotics #fanfic of the damned #fictitions

17 notes · View notes

galaxiesovertrees · 13 days ago

Text

at it again with inane doodles

13 notes · View notes

megamanxfanfics · 4 years ago

Text

What the Hell is going on w/ Ep. 5?????

Hey World,

I just wanted to pop in and say what’s been going on, as it’s been a whole Season in between episodes.

So... I guarantee you, I was working on it. Pretty diligently at first. I don’t know how many sessions, but I did X6 playthroughs while pausing and writing out the stage directions and reactions, etc. etc. Some of this was humdrum and boring and then ideas popped out at me where I took some risks and really opened up the creativity. Whenever I do that, I always think it’s shit at first. But then upon a second or third look I get a different feel and decide whether it’s okay or not.

So, I promise you that it wasn’t really a Motivation thing. Not X6 wise, anyway. The episode is roughly 7/8ths finished. That’s for sure. The file for Ep. 5 was last modified on July 26th, so what the Hell happened?

What stopped me was Life, itself.

...We all know that in April, my Mother passed away. Right when I was in the midst of Writing Ep. 2. Somehow I plowed through that. Then, in May and June life became about working out, eating right, exercising and going on dates actually, believe it or not! I was writing Ep. 3 and even 4, during that time. I was making some decent progress.

But then... Dating wise, things fell apart.

And this is where I need to spare the details, because this is a MMX Blog and not a Relationship blog. However, you could basically say that for the month of June I was enjoying myself with someone. Then, when that didn’t work, in July I quickly moved on to someone else and then That didn’t work out either. Like, at all. And a combination of the two events just shut me down in August.

I just got hit so hard with the timing of everything. I thought I was ready to date, but I really wasn’t. And for the first time in my life I was straight up couch-ridden depressed. Like, actually not wanting to do anything. No video games, no shows, no music... not eating... Not working out... and Certainly not writing MMX6.

So... I had to pull myself out of it. And how did I manage that, you might ask??

Well... for the entire months of August and September (and even now), I’ve spent a LOT of time working on myself. For everyone, this is different.

But for me, I found a great comfort in writing out everything that has happened. And I’m talking about really digging deep and diving into all of my life choices for the past 5 years of my last relationship.

My Diary Entries weren’t just about the relationship, but also Life before Covid. It was very nostalgic, therapeutic and cathartic once I got to the hard stuff and really analyzed what the Hell happened here and there. (This Project was part of those entries as well.)

My favorite writer, Brian Michael Bendis says, “A Writer writes every day.” And no matter how true that is for you, I definitely found that to become my own form of therapy. Getting over myself, as it were.

And within days and weeks, I was enjoying this new project of Self-Reflection while listening to new music on Spotify. Having the company of just 1 friend to do puzzles with and stuff, and eventually play video games again. The shows came back. Soon I was living my life and this project was becoming it’s own chore. Even the exercising and eating right came back, although not in full force as it was before.

I also can’t forget that as of August and September, our Federal Help situation drastically changed. So I had to get over the rut of seriously looking for new jobs again. At this point, it still sucks, but I’m used to it now.

My life is applying for jobs and then treating myself to either my Self Reflection Project or any other hobbies that I’m feeling that day.

Video Game wise, I enjoyed finishing the MMZ saga and finally delving into MMZX. What I can say there is that I loved MMZ3, which is a pretty popular opinion. MMZ4′s story was too different for me to care. They did a serious disservice by eliminating the Guardians in 3. But either way, I surprisingly Loved ZX. I thought by then, I wouldn’t care. But I actually thought Vent was awesome. I really appreciated their nostalgic throwbacks to X1 with Giro (clearly being a Zero, boss figure) and Area D-3 being the frickin Central Highway stage!!! That lightened my heart and made me so happy, even though the game is so different. And those transformations into the Guardian Model Letters, (beyond X & Z) was just really well done. It was the next phase in the evolution. Despite the Metroidvania open-map being confusing as Hell. I enjoyed the attempt a lot.

[Save-assist states also really enhanced this experience for me.]

MMZX Advent however... The only positive thing I have for that one is that, I actually LOVED that you were Model A the whole time. I always kind of wanted an Axl game, and in a way, this was it. But... that game is very flawed, and transforming into all of the psuedoroids on Top of gaining all the Model Letters (including ZX) was a bit much. Meeting Aile as Model ZX, in my play through as Grey was probably the only nice throwback to the canon of that game. It’s sad to know that when you play it on hard there’s a cliff-hanger that could’ve lead to the Legends series. But as someone who was never into the Legends series, I’m fine getting the Normal/Medium ending where Grey & Aile save the day and now they just want to live and travel around. I also liked any open-ended chemistry they had. (Would they have been an item in a future game? It doesn’t matter anymore.)

Lore rants, aside, playing through the ZX series brought me back to X6 a lot, because it made me wish I could play through the game in the same way that I’ve been writing this Anime Fic. That you could just press a button and freely transform into your Falcon Armor or new armors that you acquire.

So what brought me back was a long-term plan in a way. That friend who did the puzzles with me, as I mentioned expressed a Serious interest in reading my Long-Fic. So I told her the best jumping on-point to get into Season VI stuff, which is actually starting at Xtreme2. And I was so excited that she’d be reading it, that I relived it myself too. [I even made some important edits to Duff McWhalen along the way.]

From there, as I’d go through my routine of job-hunting and soul searching, I’d also treat myself to reads of Xtreme 2, which turned into new routines of reading Season IV and V first, then applying to jobs, then going about my Self-Reflection Project. Video Games wise, I also just decided to go through the whole MMX Legacy Collection. So very quickly I went through X1 and X2. X3 took a whole night. X4 was a pretty quick Afternoon. X5 was a decent day and X6 took a while (to play through in the way that I envision this fic.)

And then in the past week, you could say I’ve finally caught up, in more ways than one. Self-reflecting wise, I’ve actually caught up to April 2020, right at the worst moment of the year. And it was good for me to go through that. Video Game wise, X6′s playthrough only spoke to me for the 1st Arc, mostly but it gave me a little more of an idea on how I’m tackling certain bits of the 2nd Arc. The 3rd Arc is still a God damn mystery as is the exact ending, but I’ll figure it out. Ideas are slowly forming.

And lastly Season VI wise, I quickly reread up to Ep. 4 and just opened up the file to Ep. 5 today!

I made new edits, came up with an Episode Title like I thought I would and at the stopping point, of course I was let down, but I was left with some new ideas on where to go from there.

Now I find myself actually wanting to rediscover what can happen next.

I have things to do today, and obligations weighing on me such as job-searches and stuff. But now that my Self-Reflection thing is quickly catching up to the current day, I’m looking forward to alternating my writing days with X6 again.

Music is coming back to me, and funnily enough, someone swiped on me in September!! So I started dating again, lol. I’m not half as invested as I was in the Summer. I know what I want more, this time around and yeah...

Other than the whole Job thing, life is good for the most part.

...I’m looking forward to getting the next episode out soon.

And finishing the 1st Arc by the end of the year. That seems like a reasonable enough goal.

Until then, folks.

#Season VI #Writing Diaries #What the Hell is going on with Episode 5?????#Life #Covid-19 #Unemployment #Dating #Depression #Job Hunting #Soul-Searching #Self-Reflection #Moving Forward #Gaming #Reading #Writing Again

1 note · View note

aileposting · 5 years ago

Text

Intro I guess uh

This is a blog dedicated to Aile (mmx: command mission) because the blog owner is emotionally attached to floaty orange robot lmao

#[mun post]#im making this blog out of impulse not going to lie about that part

2 notes · View notes

japanesedragonrider · 7 years ago

Photo

It’s that time!!

Happy 30th Anniversary to the wonderful Mega Man series and all its incarnations!

In honor of this astounding event (30 years!!) I present to you a Draw the Squad sketchdump of all the Mega Man versions. Unfortunately, I do not have the time or will to color all of these.

In order left-to-right, top-to-bottom we have:

Mega Man Star Force / Shooting Star Rockman

feat. Luna Platz, Sonia Strumm, Solo, and Geo Stelar (Mega Man)

Mega Man X / Rockman X

feat. Zero, X, and Axl

Mega Man Battle Network / Rockman.EXE

feat. Maylu Sakurai, Lan Hikari, and Chaud Blaze

aka. Meiru Sakurai, Netto Hikari, and Ijuuin Enzan

Mega Man Zero / Rockman Zero

feat. Ciel, Zero, X

Mega Man Classic / Rockman Classic

feat. Blues (Proto Man), Rock (Mega Man), Roll

Mega Man ZX / Rockman ZX

feat. Aile, Vent, Giro

Mega Man Legends / Rockman DASH

feat. Roll Caskett, Tron Bonne, Volnutt

and an extra one of the four guardians from MMZ because that one’s my favorite series

feat. Sage Harpuia, Hidden Phantom, Fairy Leviathan, Fighting Fefnir

Credits under the cut

Found

MMSF

MMX

MMZ

MMC

guardians

Unfound

MMBN

MMZX

MML

12 notes · View notes

lastexodusrp-blog · 7 years ago

Photo

YAEL SABINE GASKO · 30 · WEAPONS SPECIALIST: HAND-TO-HAND COMBAT · THE DEFENDER · TAKEN

"What am I living for and what am I dying for are the same question.“ – MARGARET ATWOOD

ORIGIN:

Honolulu, Hawaii

TRAITS:

+ Charismatic, Generous, Brave - Stubborn, Paranoid, Impulsive

BIOGRAPHY: tw death

THIS IS THE WAY THE WORLD ENDS;

Born at Joint Base Pearl Harbor–Hickam, a U.S. Air Force installation in Hawaii, Yael Sabine Gasko grew up knowing that a duty to serve was in her veins. Both her parents, along with three of her uncles, proudly served for a combined one hundred and ten years. As such, Yael was raised on several bases and learned the importance of her family’s profession at a young age. The whole concept of protecting her country fascinated her and the amount of travel the job entailed exposed her to many different cultures.

Her mother, a British pilot serving in the American military, always made sure that she was aware of the culture and history of wherever they were stationed. Whether that meant exploring the city when she was off duty or simply trying all the native foods, Yael was never short on unique experiences. Her father, an Israeli naval general who’d met her mother during a visit to Florida, imparted Hebrew and the importance of empathy. "Everyone is going through something, Yael, you must never forget that.” And she didn’t, not even when her mother was gunned from the sky on her thirteenth birthday.

The loss of her mother reinforced Yael’s faith in the military: her mother had died doing what she felt was right, and it seemed wrong not to honor her with that same faith. Eighteen and convinced that the way to save the world was with a just government and a structured military, Yael enlisted in the United States Marine Corps. Throughout her training, jokes were made about her identity —mocking her on the basis of serving in the American military without having American parents—, her accent, and her looks, but a jab at their fragile.

NOT WITH A BANG, BUT A WHIMPER.

In two short years, Yael found herself in Montreal on an important espionage deployment. She was tasked with locating and retrieving a time-sensitive file for a Valeris Project launch. One of the main computers crashed so she had to travel, undetected, to the vault where the original, hardcopy was kept. By the time she returned, the riots had worsened to the point where her superiors were advising the Marines to view rebellions as enemy forces. Towards the end of 2207, Yael was made team leader of a special ops unit, Force Recon, stationed at NASA’s RSFC.

As a staff sergeant, she managed to find the perfect balance between nice and strict. Those under her leadership felt understood and valued, both respecting her decisions and fearing her wrath should anyone make any derogatory comments about anyone else. And Yael honestly felt like she was making a difference, too blinded by her pro-military upbringing to see the corruption seeping into the operation.

Yael first began to rethink her idealistic view of the military when the Torchlight Rebellion took control of Colorado Springs.

Her training told her that she was meant to support the stance of her superiors, and a younger version of herself argued that the military would do what was best. It was a rebellion, after all, and aggressive rebels couldn’t be reasoned with.

Then came the Molotovs.

The attack struck her as such a lack of regard for human life, the death count horrifying her. There were innocents within the city, children, and yet they had all been considered casualties of war. Yael’s view of her part in history changed that day, and she went into 2217 skeptical of the people around her.

A few weeks before the last shuttle for the Civ-Belt-1 was due to depart, Yael’s unit was amongst the other elite groups being offered the chance of a lifetime. Her work ethic and combative prowess made her a standout amongst her peers, and her unit’s success rate had impressed the right people.

The decision weighed hard on her: should she disregard all the doubts she had about Valeris’ focus and go into space or stand up against what was rapidly proving itself to be a corrupt system? She tried to think of her parents would do. Was this not everything that her colleagues wished for? They had earned themselves a shot at survival based on their own hard work; they were the best at what they did and were being rewarded for it.

It was on an unusually quiet night outside of the base that the decision was made for her.

Her nightly training session had ended early, by almost an hour, so she opted to take a long way back. The air was warmer than she’d come to expect from the end of times, it almost reminded her of the summer she spent on the sands of Puerto Rico alongside a woman called Esperanza. Yael was nearing the wall when she heard the shuffling of feet. A nearby torch revealed an older woman, wrapped in a tattered shawl with tangled gray hair, hobbling towards the front gates. The soldier had seen beggars before, had seen the things the environment was capable of doing to people, but this was different. The woman had her hands raised, an offering of peace and surrender. Yael looked hopefully to the guards on duty, one of them having been in her platoon at The Depot back when they first enlisted. He was kind, had taken her on a six-mile hike just to introduce her to Twinkies. Surely he would help this ailing woman.

She was wrong, and in watching her friends take out that elderly woman, something in Yael died. There was no good in the government, there was nothing noble about what this disbanded military was doing, and the world wasn’t becoming a better place because of them. They were an elite, corrupt group of murderers tarnishing the longstanding Marine Corps motto of “Semper Fidelis” (“Always Faithful”).

The realization hit her like a kick to the gut, a single tear rolling down her cheek as she turned and went to collect her things. On the way, she rounded up her team to inform them of her decision and offer them an out. She couldn’t guarantee their safety, but knew that it was important that they knew what she was doing; she couldn’t abandon her team. They understood and, while they agreed with her rationale, they’d risked too much to get where they were only to give up now. A guaranteed chance at survival was an opportunity they weren’t willing to refuse, and she understood. Maybe leaving wasn’t the smartest decision, but to her, it was the right one.

She left a note announcing her resignation on her superior’s desk, stole a jet black Zero MMX, and set out. Six months later, Yael, lives with quite a few regrets, the greatest being how long she remained blind to the government’s corruption. Now she does her best to make up for so many years of standing by while atrocities were committed, despite knowing that her ledger will always be stained in ways she can never erase. One thing that her military experience yielded was a thorough knowledge of combat, hand-to-hand being her specialty. So she puts her skills to good use, divulging combat techniques to those who seem dedicated enough.

FACECLAIM:

Gal Gadot

#gal gadot #gal gadot fc #rp #rpg #roleplay #takenf #yael sabine gasko #the defender

5 notes · View notes