#nova you should know i almost started cackling at my desk at work when i saw all of these identical asks akflafklafklaflkaf

[starmocha]

XIU TELL ME YOURE MISSING ZAYNE’S SUPERMARKET MINI GAME AS MUCH AS I AM!

What am I to do now? Work during the work day!?

HELP NOVAAAAA DID YOU GLITCH AFKSJKGJKL;AGLAGL

YES I'M SUFFERING FROM WITHDRAWAL. I was so exhausted last night, but I still squeezed in another half hour of gametime before the devs took it away :'((((

[iieivorii]

Alone...

"I'LL PROVE ALL OF YOU WRONG!" 

Those were the last words I said in a normal voice.

I sprinted to the hangar, the voices of my so-called Fireteam echoing in my ears.

“You're not serious about being a Hunter, why do you bother?”

“You never pay attention to your surroundings; you're going to get us killed!

“Maybe you should just stay at the Tower...”

The sadness and betrayal I felt fueled my rage as I transmatted into my ship and sped away from the Tower. Blinded by my emotions, I chose an area with the highest concentration of enemies: the Dreadnaught. As I approached Oryx's floating crypt, I didn't even bother to slow down. I jabbed the auto pilot and opened the ship's hatch. As the auto pilot corrected to avoid a collision, I threw myself into space and flew toward the Dreadnaught like a comet of death. The first wave of Hive didn't even know what hit them. I landed and sliced through them without loosing any momentum. The second and third were just as unlucky, but the fourth finally noticed me; not that it helped them. With each enemy I felled, my anger only grew; 'Who's taking the job seriously now?' I thought as my knife seperated a Knight from its arm. A trail of limbs and bodies lay behind me and still I lusted for more blood when an odd sound caught my attention. My curiosity overpowered my rage for just a moment and I sought out the source. I made my way to the Court of Oryx and there was the source of the sound: a Hive ritual performed by a Wizard and I recognized her. Crota's mate who sought to bring her beloved back from beyond the viel.

'This will prove to them that I'm serious' I thought to myself.

I came at them from high above and threw two knives. They imbedded in the back of a Knight and it fell forward, dead. The Knight to its right barely had time to notice before I landed on it, cracking its spine under my weight. The other four Knights and Wizard all turned to face me. They spoke in their shreiks and growls and even thought I didn't speak the language, I knew what they were saying.

“How dare you defile our sacred ritual! We'll rip the Light from you and gorge ourselves on it so that we may become more powerful” Or something like that anyway.

The Knights advanced as one, each swinging their massive swords. I easily dodged their slow attacks, but then the Wizard launched her attack. A couple of her blasts hit me and I leapt behind a rock for cover. I barely had a second to breath before the Knights pulverized my cover and I was forced to move. I chucked another knife, but it only put a chip in the bony armor of this Knight. It chuckled

and managed to grab my cape. I scowled as the other three Knights raised their swords, but they suddenly vaporized in wave of Arc energy. The very ones that had driven me on this crusade were here. The Titan that had just slammed tackled me as the Warlock appeared, launching a Nova Bomb. I braced for impact, but the Wizard flicked it away easily. She cackled madly at us as we got to our feet. We each stepped forward to attack, but then our Light was gone.

For the first time on our lives as Guardians, we were powerless. We couldn't believe it and even the Wizard seemed confused as we tried to activate our Light. Reality dawned on us and we began to slowly back away while firing, but the ritual prevented all damage. The Wizard cackled again and shot at us with reckless abandon. We all tried to dodge, but there were too many blasts. I cried out in pain as they hit me and my legs collapsed under me. They were numb and completely useless. I reached out for my fireteam's aid and while my Warlock partner tried to help, the Titan pulled her away.

“She'll only slow us down. We'll die if we try to save her!” He cried as he dragged the Warlock away. The pity in his eyes only served to rekindle the hate in my heart. The Warlock cried out an apology and then they were gone.

The Wizard glided over to me slowly, deliberatly and regarded me with an odd expression. She'd never seen Guardians act this way and this one wasn't healing. The expression changed, as if she made a decision and raised her hand with finality. I don't know how I did it, but I manage to toss the last Smoke Bomb I had and in that brief moment of invisibility, I dragged myself away and hid. The Wizard searched for me for what felt like hours, screaming the whole time. Finally she must have assumed I escaped and returned to the depths of the Dreadnaught. I finally relaxed and without the adrenalin to numb it, the pain of my injuries washed over me and I nearly cried out. I clenched my fists and only then did I realise I'd been holding something: my Ghost! I almost got mad at it for not healing me, but then I noticed it's eye was out. My Ghost was dead. I knew at that moment that I was going to die my final death. I turned myself best I could figure towards Earth and awaited the soft embrace of that eternal sleep.

That sleep was interrupted though. It started small, just on the edge of my senses, but I heard a clear voice calling for me. The voice was familiar and try as I might, I could not call back out to it. With the last of my strength, I tossed my Ghost out of my hiding spot. Thankfully the person searching for me saw it and next thing I knew, Cayde-6 was lifing me into his arms. His expression was grim, but he still tried to make me smile with his jokes.

Time lost meaning to me as I moved in and out of conciousness. I was at the Iron Temple and Rose was at her wits end. She was arguing with Cayde but he was calm. I could hear the words they were saying but most of it made no sense to me. All I understood were 'anything...can do?' and 'make...Exo'. I managed to move my head which immidiately got their attention. They spoke again, but I couldn't make sense of the words. I tried to smile and choked as I said, 'Do what...have to do. I'll...fine'.

I woke up what seemed like decades later. Somehow I knew that was innaccurate but I ignored the feling. I opened my eyes and things kept going in and out of focus; I blinked a couple times and it went away. I heard Rosey's voice first, "Rhea?" I slowly turn my head toward the sound and see her. She looks like she hasn't been sleeping properly again. "Oh thank the Traveler it worked!"

I blinked a couple times confused, "What worked?"

That's when I hear it. A robotic voice that was a pitch higher than my own. I felt my face and the soft flesh had been replaced by metal. I felt panic rise in my chest, but then Cayde stepped in. He gave me a calming smile and explained what happened: In order to save me when the Light vanished, they transferred me into the closest Exo body they could find. I felt like crying but I had no more tears to shed. Cayde leaned over and put his head against mine as if to try and calm my unease.

"I'll help you through this..."

After the incident Cayde and I became more than friends. Zavala was uneasy of course, but was happy to know Cayde would keep out of trouble now that he had a reason to stay in the Tower.

"What do you mean you're going to the Reef?" I asked as I sat on his desk eating a piece of cake.

"All that sugar is gonna rot your teeth you know." He says as he packs a couple more things.

"I don't have any anymore thanks to somebody” I said playfuly, “Now stop avoiding my question." I say as I poke his chest.

"Look honey, Petra needs my help. The prisoners are getting a bit rowdy and she needs help with the drop in patrols." He said with a sigh. He puts his head against mine, our way of kissing, and mentally reaches out with his Light to touch mine.

"Dont worry babe, I'll be back before your birthday."

(had to repost this cuz Tumblr is bein a butt)

[youngerdrgrey]

emotion: jealousy | color: black

micah says, “oh, come on, she only kissed him because my dad was right there. it’s her way of winning the divorce. this whole thing with remy is gonna blow over one of these days. i just have to wait it out.”

correction: micah says all of that, and remy overhears.

remy swallows down the congratulations he’d had ready for micah and keke. it’s just an angry kid’s opinion. he heads back into the crowd of farmers. it’s just a teenager upset. he settles into a seat and stares out so long that spots take over his vision. then he blinks, and he starts all over again.

if this wasn’t a real thing, charley wouldn’t have kissed him. charley would never align herself with somebody new just to get back at her ex. she’s not that petty of a person. she wants to be her own person. she wants to grow as herself.

but if she wants to grow as herself, then why link them in front of the whole crowd? in front of the collective and the whole black farming community?

now they know. no more guesswork or loaded comments about when charley’s gonna show up just ‘cause they see remy somewhere. it’s been confirmed for a little over an hour now, and already everybody’s coming up to him. there’s brothers who clap him on the back with a cackle and a warning, and sisters who say, “it’s about time,” so he can say, “all in hers,” or “you’re telling me.”

prosper even says that he’s happy for the both of them. “you especially, Remy. I wasn’t sure if you’d ever find somebody again, after Shauna.”

“neither was I.” but remy’s sure now, with charley. so, why can’t he meet her eye anymore? why’s he unbuttoning the top of his shirt so he can breathe better? why’s he suddenly so much more aware of Davis than he was the other night?

charley’s not using him. she might’ve used ralph angel, but she’s not using remy. she might’ve disregarded nova, or left the workers out too late during the storm, or sent in darla to do that paperwork when remy’d already vouched for jack, but… charley knows what she’s doing.

prosper tilts his head to the side. “and you’re sure?”

she’s over by micah now, smiling at him while he beams up at her. like two mirror reflections. a ready made family that remy somehow has to find a way in to.

he needs a drink. “excuse me.”

he gets a drink in her office. not so much for the quality, but to be somewhere without music and people. she has a mini-fridge in there, cool as coal, and he snags a water bottle. grips the lid so tight the ridges mark his skin, but it’s fine. it’s nothing.

he knocks back more water than he should so he crunch the bottle in his grip.

her voice sounds from the doorway. “thirsty?” his grip tightens, and he closes his eyes so he has a good reason not to turn to her. she talks anyway. “you know,” she chuckles, and her heels clink on the office ground as she comes closer, “we have all sorts of drinks in there. unless, you needed something specific?”

her voice gets slower when she wants him. more direct, but more calculated too, like she’s studied the right tone and hitch to get a rise out of him. she’s probably got a slightly puckered bottom lip and eyes as open as a cane field too.

if he doesn’t talk, she’ll start making assumptions. “there’s a lot people out there. figured I’d take a break.”

she gives one laugh. “never really took you for an introvert. not the type to duck out of a party at least.” she stops at the corner of her desk. “works out in my favor though.”

doesn’t everything? he gulps down more water to keep the words from rising. she doesn’t mean anything by it. he turns then, so he can confirm the glow in her cheeks matches the heat under her words. she shines under pressure. thrives in fires and accusations. but she runs when anyone gets close enough to study the cracks that make up her patterns. she sends him away when he tries to understand her reasoning, so he shouldn’t bother asking. shouldn’t let himself wonder too deeply if there’s any truth to what her mini-me has to say about them.

micah’s just a kid of divorce.

charley’s brows knit at the same time her smile droops. “what’s wrong?” her hands reach out for him, but he’s still got that bottle in his hands.

“nothing.” he puts the lid on at least. “nothing, babe, just… taking a break.”

she blinks, and the layers build with a flutter of her lashes. “from the party?”

he twists the bottle in his hands. “I never really knew how many people were waiting for us to happen until we did.” and that’s just the people they know. not including the reporters who probably can’t wait to hear what’s next for the former mrs. bordelon-west.

her left hand comes down to the edge of her desk. “you don’t like the attention.”

“Micah doesn’t.”

she sputters. “Wha– Micah is fifteen.”

“Sixteen,” they correct together.

she adds, “I’m pretty sure the only thing Micah likes at this point is his girlfriend.” she scoffs. “is that what this is about? Micah?”

she says it like it’s wrong of him to take someone that she raised seriously. so, he asks.

“why did you kiss me?”

she almost scoffs again. “I wanted to thank you. Remy, why–”

“in front of Davis?”

Her nostrils flare. “Yes.” her teeth clink when she’s angry. they bite off the end of her words so she wears their enunciated syllables into war. “In front of everyone.”

“to say thank you,” he repeats, “nothing else.”

“I could say it again right now.”

to appease him, that’s why she would say it again. assuage his fears with well-placed words and then she’d tug him back out to show him off. dance with him again so her hands and her smile could distract him. he’d see her free, and he’d forgive her. he’d almost even forget why he was upset in the first place. it’s what she does. it’s how she never has to explain herself.

she steps closer to him. meets his eyes and glares when he tries dropping the gaze. “Remy, thank you for being here. Thank you for finding a new venue and for convincing me to love this one.” she gets closer still, and he settles all his frustration into his chest like armor. he closes his eyes. feels as her hand reaches out for his. “Thank you for comforting me, supporting me. Thank you for our dates so far and for the one I didn’t make it to. Thank you for giving me a chance when I didn’t know that I needed it.”

even in the dark, he sees her on the other side.

“Remy?” her fingers brush his beard. his jaw unhinges without him telling it to. “Even if you don’t believe me. thank you.”

she lets him go, leaves him standing in her office with nothing but her words for company. is this how she wins too, or how he loses her all over again?

.

.

send me colors and/or emotions, and I’ll write you something

+ this is on ao3 as well

[woozletania]

Sanctuary, part 9 (RR/Lylla)

Lylla has an operation to tune up her cybernetics, and Rocket meets both an old friend and a new enemy.

*****

"Ah, Rocket and the otter Uplift," said the Kree man sitting behind the desk.  "Doctor Foster is expecting you."

An inarticulate growl came from Rocket as his lips drew back to expose his fangs, and Peter instinctively put his hand on the raccoon's shoulder as Rocket's ears went back as well.  "Please don't shoot him, Rock," Peter said, for though Rocket didn't have the usual huge weapon clipped to his back it was safest to assume he was always armed.

"What are you doing here, Zek," the raccoon snarled.

The Kree was unfazed.  "Working," he said, and stuck his foot out from behind the desk so they could see the monitor anklet.  "It was this or a cell and I picked this."

Lylla had shrunk against Rocket when Dek appeared, but she recovered quickly.  "Rocket, Doctor Dek-Karr wasn't as bad as some of them.  It's OK."

"It had better be," Rocket growled, and then the green light came on over the inner door and Paul Foster came out.  "Rocket!  And you must be Lylla.  I've heard so much about you." Just as Dey had done he knelt to put himself at her level and politely waited for her to nod before petting her.  This time Rocket didn't snap.  It was Doc Foster, after all. But it still bothered him, though he couldn't say why.

"Doc, I think I know what that layer under her fur is.  Active camouflage, right? Photoactive engineered fur controlled by a computational substrate. And I bet whisker-sensors growing out with the fur read the surroundings so the camouflage can be adjusted."

"You must have run into Blackjack," Paul said with a grin.  "He does love to sneak up on people.  He's our invisible bunny. It's part of the Sharptooth package, for stealth and assassination."

"Sharptooth can do that too?" It was Gamora.  "I was already impressed by him."

"Sharptooth is an Uplifted, enlarged sable," Doc Foster said.  "Carnivorous, like you, and a distant relative of yours, Lylla.  From the same species family on Earth."

"Terra," Rocket said.  "And the others?"

"I'm afraid so, Rocket. Every Uplift in this new batch is a modified Terran animal.  We don't know why, but the other outfit Nova is investigating is using Terran species too."

Rocket chewed on that as the Guardians made their way into the medical theater. Dey excused himself and left as Lylla, aided by a set of steps sized for Uplifts, clambered up onto an examining table.

"Rocket sent detailed scans and notes ahead of time," Paul Foster said as he held up a probe. "Lylla, I'm going to start by accessing your central data hub, if I may."

"Of course, doctor.  Rocket did that too." She didn't flinch as he removed the cap from a port on her back and clicked the probe hilt-deep into it. The doctor looked up as holographic screens sprang to life.

"What Rocket didn't have is a software system designed to work with your cybernetics," he said.  "I do, thanks to recovered computers and help from Zek. Among other things, there are digital files stored in there that...Ah, here," he touched a bar graph.  "This graph in the developer notes represents, in simplified form, your 'design parameters.'. What they wanted you to do.  See, linguistics, semantic and body language interpretation - all diplomatic skills - and at the other end, part of the Sharptooth package.  That means close combat programming, poison glands and active camouflage for assassination or escape. They meant you to be a diplomat who could kill at need."

"I know," Lylla chirped. "But none of that's working right now, right?"

"They must not have gotten to the training portion where it was needed," Paul guessed.  She nodded.  "It can all be turned on easily.  Let's start with the camouflage.  Blackjack, I need your goggles."

The bunny reappeared in the midst of the Guardians, much to Gamora's unease and sporting a wide smile as he took off the goggles.  "Can't see without 'em," he said. "Eyes are invisible too you know."

"Not actually invisible," the doctor said.  "But close enough.  If you're not in bright light (since you'll still cast a shadow) and especially if you move slowly you're damn hard to spot. In areas of irregular light like a forest you might as well be truly invisible.  It's not so unnerving when you only use it to spy on the lady's showers," he said, shooting a glance at the rabbit, "More so when you consider the intended function. There."

He typed briefly on a data pad. "Lylla, that's all it took.  They had everything done except the activation."

Blackjack faded out with a disturbing cackle and made his way out of the room blind, assuming he told the truth about that.  Or maybe he was lurking in a corner somewhere. There was too much ambient noise from the medical equipment to be sure where he was and Rocket elected to ignore the peeping bunny.  He had other concerns.

"Try it, Lylla," he said, and passed her the goggles." She nodded and put them on, taking a moment to adjust the strap.

"Be advised that active camouflage burns a lot of calories," Doctor Foster said.  "You'll need to eat more if you use it a lot."

Lylla giggled.  "I don't think anyone will notice.  I already eat a lot." She got the goggles adjusted just as Foster spoke again.

"You should instinctively know how to -" and just like that she was gone, fading so completely into the background that Rocket had trouble seeing where she was though he'd been looking right at her. Then she slipped sideways and he lost her entirely.

"Man, they did a good job on that," he said, unable to disguise his admiration despite hating the men who'd done it.  "It really seems like you can see through her."

"Like I see through you," she breathed into his ear, and followed with a nip that made him jump. She always went to that same spot, where her bite had nearly killed him, but gently, almost like a kiss.

He realized she'd slipped out of her harness to disappear and that she was slinking around the room naked. Otherwise her clothing would be floating there unsupported.  "I'll have to work on your stuff so it disappears too."

"If you'll get back on the table, Lylla," said Doc Foster, and then she was there, fading back in as she donned her harness.  "Activating your poison glands is a little more complicated."

She shrank away from him, the smile falling from her face.  "I don't, I don't want that."

"Now don't decide so soon." Gently, and waiting for permission  as he had before, he reached out and stroked her from ears down over the nape of her neck.   When she had relaxed he went on.

"Those glands are sophisticated. You'll have conscious control, and 'venom' is an oversimplification. You'll have about six doses of it available per day and if you can get a sample of the target beforehand, with a kiss or a lick, you'll be able to make custom drugs that only work on that one.  It's a useful skill. Even without that you can make knockout or paralysis drugs instead of killing poison.  Think of it as a six-shot pistol, with each of those 'shots' tailored ahead of time according to your wishes. You could have all knockout bites if that's what you want or just never dispense any at all."

"And you could remove them later if I change my mind?"

"Of course.  Or right now, if you want."

"All right." The other Guardians were polite enough not to smile when she reached out to take Rocket's hand.  The doctor went on.

"Lylla, to activate the glands, and to work on your cybernetics to fix the problems the scans found, you know it's going to take surgery.  Please tell me you won't be an idiot like him," he inclined his head good-naturedly towards Rocket, "And that you'll let me put you under."

"Well of course, doctor," she said, sounding genuinely puzzled.  "Why wouldn't I?"

Doctor Foster sighed.  "Some will and some won't.  It's a trust issue," he said.  "And I understand perfectly why it's there.  Rocket, this shouldn't take too long, and the nurse can monitor her vitals, but would you like to stay and assist? I could use another good eye and you may need the info on her cybernetics we'll get doing this."

And the unspoken part: Because even though I am your friend and you trust me as you trust no other doctor, you aren't leaving her side, are you?

"Sure, Doc," said Rocket as lightly as possible.  Paul Foster was right.  Though he couldn't have said why, nothing short of death would take him from Lylla's side now. Not when she was going to be under the knife. Drax and Gamora, knowing from experience that the doctor could be trusted, left to talk to some of the other Uplifts but Groot was as inseparable from Rocket as always and Peter was there too, reading magazines at a table as Rocket passed the doctor tool after tool.

Watching Lylla be cut open was more painful even than he'd imagined. He'd rather be there on the table himself, once again conscious as he was operated on.   Between the nurse replacing her blood and fluids as fast as they drained out and advanced drugs keeping her stable, though, she was never in any real danger. Thankfully the procedure took little more than an hour.

He had been on the table for ten, but much of that was fixing years of degradation caused by a justified fear of doctors. Lylla's cybernetics were new and only a few teething problems were causing her pain.  The deep scans Rocket sent told Paul right where to go and what to do.  In less than two hours the otter was conscious again, showered, and back in her outfit.

"Feeling better?" Rocket asked, and the she-otter smiled and hugged him.  It was that simple. The operation they'd both feared had come and gone in an afternoon.

"I can feel the glands now," she said wonderingly as she touched her cheek.  "It really is like a six-shot gun.  I can feel the empty 'chambers' as though they were missing teeth and I know how to fill them with poison or drugs."

"Well, don't unless you want to," Rocket said.  "Just because someone gives you a weapon doesn't mean you have to use it."

"We're done," Doctor Foster said, and for the second time refused payment.  Nova Corps had co-opted him as the authority on Uplift cybernetics and he was being well paid for his time, he assured them.  In effect he'd been conscripted.  Luckily it was work he would have happily done anyway.

"Dinner's in two hours," he went on.  "You can spend your time as you like until then, but I'd appreciate it if you attended and spoke to the other Uplifts. They've been looking forward to meeting the Guardians and especially you, Rocket."

Just then Rocket's data pad beeped, and he showed the message to Lylla.  We should talk, it said, and it was from Doctor Zek.