#prkh

[embodies]

hana regards her company with a studious gaze, eager to absorb what knowledge she can and rid herself of the mantle of d.va. if only temporarily. her cross - legged posture makes her seem even younger than her feeble age of nineteen, but her mind is aged with the weight that rests upon her shoulders. a sense of duty and diligence underlies everything she does now — whether she lathers it in pink hearts and bunnies or not. but in this moment, she is simply grateful.

❛ you. are. a. life saver ! ❜ volume increases with each step until it culminates in a shrill exclamation of glee, gloved hands thrusting into the air, celebratory. ❛ tokki would've been so done for if it wasn't for you, you're waaaaaay better with mekas than dae-hyun. uh, don't tell him that— ! ❜ the reversal of an exclamation made in too much excitement, grin sheepish amidst her relief. if her trusty mech was down for the count, she wouldn't know what to do with herself.

❛ thank you, ramya. i'll have to let you take her for a spin some time — you know ! as compensation. ❜ gratitude precedes the knowing glimmer in her eye, the offering of a joyride as sacred as donating a kidney to her. one would do well to know the importance of such a permission.

@prkh. ♡

[sparksavor]

i made a gun called rampage. does this make you my giant terrible horrible no good very bad son

Be my guest. You can't possibly make a worse parent than my real one.

[deathl1es]

@prkh | LIKED FOR A STARTER

Eve Riley staggered through the dust-choked streets, her tattered dress flapping around her skeletal frame. The wasteland had not been kind to her, but she wore the scars of survival with a kind of grim pride. Her skin, mottled with decay and patches of scar tissue, told a story of countless encounters with the harsh realities of this world. Her eyes, however, retained a sharp glint—a remnant of the fierce spirit that had kept her alive for so long.

The sign above the door was barely legible, but Eve had learned to navigate by intuition and the scraps of old-world knowledge she’d picked up along the way. She pushed open the door, which creaked on rusty hinges, and stepped inside.

The interior was cluttered with a haphazard array of weaponry and armor. Dusty shelves groaned under the weight of ancient rifles, barely functional pistols, and an assortment of improvised gadgets.

Eve shuffled forward, her steps deliberate but unhurried. She knew she was an unusual sight but she had come for a reason. “I need something reliable,” she rasped, her voice carrying a tone of determination that belied her appearance. “Something that can still hold up in a fight.”

Eve glanced around, taking in the assortment of weapons. “Raider attacks have been getting worse,” she explained. “I need something that can keep me alive a little longer. Maybe a good rifle, something with range and power.”

[luckynumbersix]

@prkh

He moved slowly, exhausted from his trek and flopped himself onto the little stool beside him. "Ramya?" He called into the space, eyes scanning the area looking for the younger woman. He reached up grabbing his bandana and pulling it from his face before yelling for the woman again. "Ramya! I got your shit."

He chucked the bag he was carrying onto the work table near by him, eyes still scanning the room for any sight of her. "I think I broke a toe this trip." He mumbled to himself, bending down to rub his foot through his worn boots.

[torntruth]

kristen durus interaction call , accepting , @prkh .

nuka-town ( usa ) , goes around in a circle , nuka-market in the center. where all the poor travelers who blinked got caught and forced to work under the raiders ( with an exploding collar as a threat , the ye olde trick ) . kristen durus is just a woman that values freedom. these particular raiders were just animals ( literally for The Pack who's run by a fucking alpha ) . the blonde is sitting in a chair , a nuka-cola in hand , wearing the usual outfits of the operators ( suits with armor ) , watching that cola shaped bot walk around and insult people.

... which she did particularly find amusing.

bright green eyes shift to a face she just hasn't seen before. a breath in. every single traveler runs the risk of becoming a slave. MAYBE SHE DOES HAVE A GOOD HEART. she stands , shifts her combat rifle around in her hands before making it to the stranger's side , combat rifle cradled comfortably in both hands. she just clears her throat before smiling , like this isn't a raider's world filled with torture and chems. but a fun park.

" you want some advice? it's free , on the house. "

[holopiloted]

@prkh asked: stands in his bedroom doorway, whips n naenaes & leaves in silence.

The look on his face is uncharacteristically...BLANK. Seemingly unperturbed by the whole thing — but anyone who knows Elliott would know it's quite the opposite...

His gaze remained LOCKED onto the now empty doorway for a moment, as if Ramya was still standing there; eventually, slowly, drifting back to the holopad that sat in his lap.

— he's gotta get his door fixed. ASAP.

[maximummuses]

❛ i’m not afraid of you. ❜ for javelin! :]

&. 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬.

"What is it about me that keeps you from feeling scared?" Javelin looks down, singular optic flickering.

"Impressive weaponry. Did you make it yourself?"

[ragedagainst]

@prkh : so let me get this straight. you have… never wooed? not once? you are woo-less, as it were?

unpredictability is the key to survival. as long as no one can predict her next move, she can remain steps ahead of them, to figure out what they're thinking before they even know it so she can act on that possibility. because of it, jyn is very rarely knocked off her feet ( literally and metaphorically ) –– but this is one of those instances. the words that come out of parekh's mouth are so far out of the current galaxy that it leaves her stunned for a few seconds, lips parting slightly and eyebrows pulling together in confusion.

what –– wooing ? the fuck does wooing –– and bloody romance ? both of them have greater priorities than this, surely.

" wooed ? " jyn scoffs incredulously. that's a word she hasn't heard in –– ever. despite being born in a prison, galen and lyra had been relatively well-off for the first few years of her life on coruscant ; that all went to shit, of course, when they'd decided to stop working with krennic. her life so far has been the opposite of high society –– and asking whenever or not she's ever wooed someone has never come up before. her lip curls back into the hint of a mocking sneer, arms crossing over her chest. " i'm sorry –– i didn't know i was in the presence of someone from the bloody upper-core. "

[embodies]

NEARLY A KISS PROMPTS. ACCEPTING. [ PHONE ] : sender and receiver are about to kiss when a cell phone goes off and makes them pause.

@prkh. for lisbeth salander.

the sharp trill of a phone blares like an alarm between them and lisbeth's breath breezes out briskly after having been held. relationships are . . . difficult for her, even these non - consequential and deliciously apathetic replications of intimacy that she finds easier to digest. any interruption is paramount, the coil of her certainty unravelling swiftly. she keeps a stoic face though, brow quirking only in mild judgment at the selection in ringtone ( not that she can talk when hers is the buck bumble theme, but really ? ) and the corner of the hacker's mouth can't help but follow suit in that lift upward to a crooked smirk, as if they were attached by an invisible cord. her gaze remains firmly analytical even in closeness with others, dissecting ramya's features like code as she taps at her screen. the twin variables of her eyes, dark and infinitely alluring, each lash a line to debug and admire. the punctuation mark stop of a mole above her mouth. the curve of her lips a perfectly executed function as she speaks to her caller, leaving salander pining in a way that would embarrass her later in hindsight.

making a rapt decision, she plucks the device from ramya's palm in a gentle but firm gesture, hanging up on . . . whoever that is and tucking it away into her back pocket for safekeeping. consider it confiscated. ❛ i'm not against hacking that thing if it keeps you away from it for five minutes. ❜ only playfulness in her metal - ringed smile ( a piteously rare landmark on her expression ) as palms return upward to clasp the back of the infamous rampart's neck. her decisiveness comes in bursts, so unsure of what she wants that when it finally becomes apparent it must be shouted to the world too. this is her shouting now. a meekness upon the other's attention having been restored, chestnut gaze overpowering. but she daren't falter, voice lowered as she rises on tip toes to close the gap, her hair a canopy shrouding either side of her face.

❛ —where were we ? ❜

[enccrypted]

> incoming transmission received : @prkh {

“don’t do yourself any favours, do you, anorak…” deft are the hands that work: not so ungentle in the way she packs a considerable tear of gauze into an open g7 bullet hole in crypto’s quad. they’re hunkered down in a corner of the cenote cave with a single medkit between them … and while ramya considers herself no medic of the fleshy kind, the concept of his wound getting infected by some haphazard grains of sand or whatever hellish insects storm point bred admittedly makes the woman squeamish to her core. “but i suppose i owe you for takin’ out that bugger with the l-star... reckon you’ll be alright?” }

" CAREFUL, " CRYPTO HISSES, THE SNAP AND BITE IN his voice out of the ordinary even for him. But what exactly did he expect from a woman whose hands are accustomed to digging around in the guts of bombs and weapons made to maim and kill ? ( When it came to Parekh, the latter's a kindness. Crypto doesn't like to think of what kind of life awaited those that survived her creations. Even medical innovation hasn't come far enough to mend the wounds left behind by a Rampart. Those you kept for life. )

But she's doing the best that she can. He's seen her at work, and there is a mechanical precision to the way her fingers moved. Each deft twist and tap and every minor adjustment she makes is done with a sort of purpose that he knows quite well — that of an engineer's. Rampart knows what she's doing.

" 씨발새끼 ¹ ...! I-I'm fine. I'll be fine. Just — get it over with."

It's the blood-gushing hole in his thigh, he thinks, that's clouding his judgment. There was nothing short of a heavy dose of sansufentanyl and whatever else D.O.C. had in that mixture. His input won't be of any help here, but growling and bitching feels like it's doing something.

At least he's not the other guy. Crypto chokes back a yowl, jerking his head in a nod as she pressed gauze into and against the wound. Unshed tears cling to his lashes. He blinks them away as he presses a hand against his nose and mouth to block out the foul stench of burning flesh, fanned into their hideout by the seaside breeze. ( The smell came from just downhill on the shore, from the not far-off body of the other guy who'd been at the unfortunate end of a barrage of fire from Crypto's L-star. )

Staring at the blood soaked bandages aren't helping much either, he realises, and he skirts his gaze away. It lands briefly on the medkit at Rampart's side. Crypto grinds his teeth before squeezing his eyes shut, fighting off the feverish shudder wracking his body from head to toe. There's no use in wasting it. He wasn't going to die from this. But the pain is always somehow worse in the interim; in the climax of battle, he can count on the rushing of adrenaline in his ears to distract him, no matter how drenched in blood and sweat, how riddled in bullets and cuts, he might be.

" 썅. ² " He shakes his head, tossing off what droplets he can from the rivulets of perspiration streaming down his temples. " S... sorry. I just, I don't usually survive long enough to get to this point. "

He sticks to the shadows for a reason. Combat is more viable for someone with his skillset when he has the element of surprise. When he's caught off-guard like this... well, he'd be long knocked out of the running. And knocked out, carted off to be hooked up onto life support in the infirmary, too.

He blinks blearily, offering Rampart a weak smile through split and bloody lips. ( He must have bit through them when the other man's bullet had hit its last and lucky mark, or when Rampart had been forced to play medic to pick up his slack. Who knew where their actual medic was. The madman had taken off upon landing and, hours later, remains nowhere to be seen. The only response on his radio is static when they try to patch through. Though, truth be told, Crypto isn't all that interested in meeting back up with him. No amount of illicit drugs for that he carried in his pack — for healing, he claims — is worth the headache and lunacy that the man brings with him. ) Her efforts are appreciated, especially when pitted up against the other options he could have ended up with.

" Do I at least get a candy when we're through? Eh...? 간호사 선생님 ³ ? " Maybe he doesn't need the sansufentanyl, after all; he's beginning to feel delirious, as it is.

¹   씨발새끼 ;  ssibal saekki — ' motherfucker '  ²   썅 ;  ssyang — ' shit/fuck '  ³   간호사 선생님 ; ganhosa, ' nurse, ' + seonsaengnim, honorific

[deathchasing]

"yeah, mate, i'mma need, like … two more days with it. minimum." an itch of her nose leaves remnants of graphite grease, posture unbothered, hunched over her workspace with a focus that could be respectable if it weren't indisputably unhealthy. ultimately, money was money; and she's good at what she does. if it jeopardized a few meals, and social interactions, and cut her back a few hours of sleep… she could catch up on it. she's done worse. and who's counting? "my schedule's chock-a-block all weekend. lotta people want a whole lotta lil ol' parekh. who'd've thought, eh? [ ... ] you got any caffeine on you?"

"Come onnnn, that's so long!"

Octane spreads out miserably on Rampart's workshop floor and settles a baleful glare on her boots beneath the desk she works at. She's been tinkering with a new model of prosthetics for him, ones that better acclimate to water. He's always been able to swim reasonably well with the ones he has, but it's never been the same as walking and running. The environment is simply different; no skin and muscle to innately detect pressure changes or current, or to gauge how quickly or efficiently his feet kick at the water. Out of everything he'd had to adjust to since he lost his legs, swimming anywhere that isn't shallows has been nightmarish. He's developed something of a phobia in the interim, though it's not something he'd ever admit aloud. "I wanna try surfing the waves on Storm Point before that big hurricane hits," he whines. Absently he picks up a stray wrench out of a nearby toolbox and begins to spin it around in a circle on the floor, bored and uninspired. "Fuse is gonna get all the attention when he flies down there this weekend cause he always does. I think Mirage's eyes are gonna fall outta his stupid head if he keeps this up."

He sighs. "Anyway, if I had caffeine, I'd be drinking it," he says with a grin, "And you wouldn't get any."

[un1dentity]

#FILE SELECTED: you can’t change your cards. you already looked at them. #FILE STATUS: accepting. #SELECTED BY: @prkh.

GAZE MEETS OTHER’S OVER RIM OF SHADES. "you're talkin' 'bout these cards, right? no?" poker cards are laid out across surprisingly still-sturdy tabletop. [a full royal flush, how 'bout that... not that it matters now.] cue heavy sigh as body stretches backwards, some satisfying pops audible. "alright, well, if we're getting philosophical... sometimes i do wonder what i would do if i could go back in time. what i'd tell myself, what i'd do different, all that fun stuff."

not join the up deathclaws. take barbara, get the hell out of dodge. just become a simple farmer or something.

"but y'know, i was reading this old pre-war book the other day, threw me into some existential crisis. the butterfly effect, they called it. you change one tiny thing in the past, then the whole future is — pardon my french — fucked. so even if my cards, or your cards, could change..." look out, world! rare moment of no-more-mister-funny-guy incoming. "would it even matter?"

[transmechatrist]

Seven Deadly Sins

LUST. desire for connection. pursuit of pleasure. emotional intelligence. obsessive. lovesick. one-night stands. seductive encounter. flirtatious conversation. erotic party. seductive attire. revealing clothing. passionate gaze. provocative makeup. sensual expressions. suggestive gestures. flirtatious smiles. lingerie. love letters. perfumes. provocative behaviour. love poems. erotic art.

GLUTTONY. indulgence in experiences. savouring moments. hospitality. generosity. hedonism. culinary expertise. wine-tasting. excessive snacking. overloaded plates. excessive portions. bloated stomachs. messy eating. greasy fingers. full tables. indulgent spreads. overflowing cups. satisfied expressions. wine bottles. just can't get enough. fast food wrappers.

ENVY. motivation. competitive spirit. strategic planning. observational skills. bitter rivalry. contest. envious gossip. resentment-filled argument. social media jealousy. furrowed brows. clenched jaws. side-eye looks. pursed lips. tense posture. whispering behind backs. crossed arms. gossip magazines. keeping up with the joneses. the grass is always greener. feeling inadequate.

GREED. resourcefulness. entrepreneurial spirit. negotiation. materialistic. aggressive investment. lavish spending spree. resource-hoarding. get-rich-quick schemes. auction-bidding war. property acquisition. piles of money. overflowing wallets. luxury items. locked safes. penny-pinching. rare collectibles. selfishness. unwillingness to share.

SLOTH. calmness. stress management. nonchalance. relaxation techniques. lethargic. apathetic. inactive. lazy weekend. binge-watching marathon. neglected chores. skipped workout. long nap. lounging on the couch. missed deadlines. unkempt appearance. messy hair. pajamas. blankets. slippers. procrastination station. self-care routines.

PRIDE. confidence. self-assurance. self-respect. dignity. public speaking. self-promotion. arrogant. conceited. egotistical. self-important. vain. boastful speech. puffed chest. raised chin. smug smiles. spotlight. tooting your own horn. showing off. refusing to admit mistakes. feeling entitled. personal branding. leadership development.

WRATH. assertiveness. decisiveness. strength. intensity. boundary setting. courage. indignant. heated arguments. road rage incident. physical altercation. angry outburst. clenched fists. glaring eyes. tense muscles. raised voices. reddened faces. aggressive gestures. stormy demeanour. intense frowns. destructive actions. broken objects. punching bag. out for blood. fists. simmering anger.

stole this from someone random. hehe

tagging @simulamortem @ccyberretchh @deathchasing @voltaage @naboocrowned @prkh idk if any of y’all have done this before, but you are very invited (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡

[toxichem]

what is your underlying motif ? → the dog

whether it’s the way you bare your teeth when backed in a corner, your loyalty, or your tendency to act on instinct, your reoccurring theme is the dog. like mitski said “i get mean when im nervous, like a bad dog” or how halsey said “i won’t smile but i’ll show you my teeth” even when migos said “dance with my dogs in the night time” the essence of the dog runs through you. you’re tough and a quick draw on the outside, but if we got down to it we’d see you’re acting the only way you’ve ever known how. it doesn’t make you bad, survival is natural, your loyalty and determination is commendable. i don’t blame you for the way you act when your back is against a wall, but please remember to not bite the hand that feeds.

tagged by : @prkh tagging : @galaxythixf , @dimensionalspades , @knifvd , @timewounded , and anyone else !

[ragedagainst]

10 RANDOM HEADCANONS.

jyn desperately needs a hug but doesn't know it and refuses to ask for one. (SOOOOOO true)

jyn has a deck of yogioh cards under their bed. (false but she does have a stack of weapons + emergency supplies)

jyn forgets to eat sometimes. (true and false - she sometimes will forget to eat if she's engrossed in something but she's also someone who has actually been starving before so consistent meals are important to her)

jyn is afraid to close their eyes in the shower. (uuhhh . no. false. she's fallen asleep in the shower before)

jyn fucked your mom. (true)

jyn likes board games, but no one else wants to play with them. (true she's competitive and she cheats)

jyn doesn't know how to say they're sorry. (TRUE)

jyn needs a nightlight to sleep. (sorta true she doesn't need a nightlight but she can't sleep in the pitch black darkness)

jyn has an incredible short-term memory but an awful long-term memory. (false she's got a good memory and is especially good with faces)

jyn is unemployed. (LMAO i mean. yeah i guess??)

stolen from: @ninkaku >:) tagging: @proditeur , @strnza , @deadmare , @prkh , @profecier , @guttcrson , and you !!

[embodies]

DOOM: ANNIHILATION PROMPTS. ACCEPTING. ❛ someone found a shiny new toy. ❜

@prkh.

glance upward at her company is brief, far too engrossed in what is happening on her handheld console screen to divert her attention for too long. the game has always come first, hyperfixated determination sticking a glimpse of tongue at the dainty corner of her mouth. focus is paramount. not the most courteous image to present but she's sure ramya understands. hana hasn't let go of this thing for more than a quick toilet break since she was gifted it ( thank you, loyal fans ! ) and shows no signs of stopping.

❛ uh, yeah— ❜ as if it were obvious, her tone still clearly distracted as she navigates to a checkpoint and hits save. setting the console down, granted with some reluctance, her undivided awareness is finally endowed. ❛ i mean, i can play all around the world now ! missions, touring, do you know how much luggage space this is gonna save me ? packing up this thing is soooo much easier — no wonder it's called a portal. it literally opens up every doorway ever. so convenient. ❜ realising her ramble, she becomes sheepish. a blush tinges her features rapidly, giggle erupting unbidden. ❛ you can have a go, if you like. ❜ offer of truce, for her eyes were starting to blur anyway.