#really ooc for that dude

[bludhavens-finest]

It not being freezing doesn't mean being out in the cold won't be hurtful. Not to mention the temperature feels like 28° so you'll still feel freezing and your body will react accordingly. Forcing it to spend that extra energy will only make things worse and make the sickness last longer. Maybe even reaching the point where you're bedridden and can't go on patrol anyway. Better to stay in and rest. Trust your family to take care of the city for tonight

I am literally the only vigilante in this city, I am the only person who takes care of things here, I genuinely cannot just take a night off without either something happening or someone noticing

I don’t know how else to explain this to everyone except for this my responsibility, I’ve gone out in worse (mostly the numerous concussions), it’s not going to kill me

But Jesus fucking Christ does it get stressful.

[jubshead]

What pet names do you guys think Lilia uses?

[scarletdex]

Ogerpon or Kieran

I mean, Kieran and I have been through a lot. We just managed to become close again, but what kind of Pokémon Professor would go abandoning the pokémon under their care? I... don't think I can really choose...

[adlers-former-protege]

Guess what I got. Yeah, a keychain with my name on it with little beads. I bet YOU don't have that. Losers.

[spearofthetenno]

When does a man become a monster?

OOC: ((For one's knowledge, this is set running alongside the fight between 3000 and Amir. Unfortunately for the Scaldra involved, Venahn is no longer in the mindset for mercy and nor does anyone know where they are.)) Second OOC: ((Yes I am an EPIC: The Musical Fan how could you tell?))

TW: Canon typical violence, It's Warframe friends.

The radio was still screaming static as Scaldra Squadron Thunder Hammer pushed through on with their patrol. The captain had been very clear-extremely clear in fact-that they were to keep this patrol up. To have one another's backs and keep together. But with their radio seemingly busted they couldn't do either. It was either that or the sheer concentration of techrot in the area was now wreaking havoc on their gear.

What they definitely couldn't have known is that having three banshees in a generally close area causes any form of communication within a fifty-mile radius to seemingly just cease working. And considering the number of Drifters now gathered for a major throwdown...that was perhaps the least surprising thing of the day.

The streets, once covered in thick snow, now ran red with blood and green with efevon. Ran like rivers, some intermingling and pooling into puddles of brown, whereas others cut through the white and the grey with their own simple streams. Burning APCs and shattered tanks lit up the roads, acting akin to beacons and pyres. Lighting the road for all those who followed their foolish forebearers into now what seemed like the mouth of hell.

Scout teams had been sent out hours ago, Viktor had wanted to make the most of this opportunity and see if there other ways to bring it all down. To break the Hex from within, kill the monster in it's very own lair. of course, he has his own stake in this mess. Of course, all those had now gone silent. And now it was obvious what had befallen them. Death, death and slaughter on such a scale that seemed industrious.

They could see the Mall now, a relatively inconspicuous building all things considered. If one didn’t know the contents within, one could have easily walked past it and not known a damn thing. They stopped in a nearby alleyway as they tried for sol-knew how manyth time to fix their radios again. Trying to cut through the rabid static.

That's when they saw it, a figure that cut a spartan's silhouette through the burning night. It's form was golden sword steel, streaked with dark chrome and maroon-red that seemed to glimmer in the fire light to its back. The crest that ran the back of its head cast the form of those noble heroes of old but it looked uncanny. Human yet not quite. It was a devil without question, terrifying as it clutched a spear that stood taller than most men in one hand and a great round shield in the other. Blood was dripping off its form, not entirely drenched but that maybe because some of it had long since dried upon its form. It hadn't seemed to notice them just yet. Seemingly it was on some sort of patrol, judging from the multiple footsteps trails it had likely left in the snow.

The squadron were veterans, they had at the very least read the mission reports. Of the Hex and how they ripped through squadrons like they were nothing. Some had even been witnesses, watched as the Hex performed superhuman feats on the regular.

But Protoframes are different from a warframe. Entrati had to cut the thin line between human and sheer infested killing machine that Ballas had created. A human body could only be pushed so far before catastrophic damage occurred; such damage that would most certainly render them useless if not outright killing then. Press the Helminth Strain too far and you'd have a monster with no ability to control it, the first generations of Ballas's creations had proven that in laboratories slick with blood.

Warframes had no such considerations. And neither did their tenno with their void devilry beaten into their bones. Ballas, for all his horrid nature, had perfected his Magnum Opus. The Warframes were war incarnate themselves with very little to stop them.

They didn't even have the chance to scream before the devil was upon them like a wolf upon prey. It was upon them with what seemed to be a clap of thunder that rang in their ears and dazed their sensors. The team lead who had been at the front of the squadron raised his voice to yell out an order but was nearly instantly silenced as Styanax's spear pierced through his throat and punched out the back of his skull.

The Jaeger to his right raised his rifle in retaliation, trigger finger at the ready but he never stood a chance. The devil lunged forwards in less than a heartbeat and rammed the edge of its shield directly into his chest. His armour and ribs shattered like cheap glass as he was flung into the closest building with a sickening snap.

The Flayer raised his sickles but it was futile. Styanax moved with such grace that he may as well have cut at water. It rammed the butt of its spear into and then through his stomach. He didn't even get the chance to gasp in pain before the devil withdrew his spear and twirled the spear into a reverse grip and drove it directly into his chest and ended his suffering before it even began.

The Barbican raised his shield to shelter himself as he dared to step forward to challenge this devil at it's own game. Styanax looked at him with only the groan of biotech gone too far before it drew it's shield arm back and flung its shield at him with the force of a tank round. And Tharros hit with the force of something more then just a tank as it sheered through his shield and directly into him-cutting the upper portion of his chest from the rest of his body.

Tharros returned just as quickly as the RATATATA of AX-52’s rattled against the sword steel skin of this devil. Someone was desperately yelling, desperately hoping that some god send thing would come and save them.

The only reply they would get was death as the Devil launched his spear through the cry and into them. The rest of them ducked, trying to scatter as the body was pinned against the brick wall behind them. The devil closed the distance in the time it took to blink, sending the two Scaldra closest to it flying into a lamp post and a wrecked car with a gnarly crunch. Two more Scaldra died without so much as a whimper as spear tip met flesh.

Perhaps the last man alive, a humble jaeger, was a coward. Or perhaps he was simply the wisest of his squad and saw the writing on the wall. Or perhaps he was simply experiencing shell shock from the sudden and unexpected violent shock of watching most of his team die in front of him.

More likely, it was a combination of all three at once. For no place in that oh so gloried Hall of Heroes was worth this horror. To be on the receiving end of a Warframe with a fully realised Tenno pilot with absolutely nothing to lose.

The only thing that could truly stand up against a Warframe and a Tenno in an equal fight was perhaps a Sentient with their supreme fire power or maybe a Dax warrior with an unholy amount of Kuva in their veins. Both made and forged for the fires of war, purely for battle and nothing else. And that was a big if, especially with Warframes that could shatter a meteor with a punch or freeze time at their own pleasure or move faster then lightning. Had they not ended the Old War with the Sentients? Did they not have piles of Orokin bodies and those who would serve those golden lords in their kill tallies?

A Scaldra, no matter how trained or experienced, could never hold a match to that kind of skill or mastery. They were mortal men and women with only a lifetime to spare.

But it was not a Warframe that killed the last Scaldra Jaeger. No. No it was scruffy older man probably no older then 35, dressed in armour that the Jaeger couldn’t recognise but had itch that it was familiar somehow. The thing that controlled that spear wielding devil was not a creature straight out of myth or perhaps the font of hell. Instead it was a man with dark hair partially tied back, scruffy stubble and claw scar that ran down his right eye.

He grabbed him, pinning the man against the wall with the sheer force of his charge. Cold steel pressed against the Scaldra’s throat but not yet cut. Somewhere vaguely, the Scaldra saw that the man’s right hand was some kind of prosthetic-designed akin to bone but hard as steel. No. Harder than even that.

“Mercy!” The Jaeger begged. Desperately.

The man looked him in the eye, and instead of void light or hellfire as some would have had them believed, the eyes that stared back were sol gold. Maybe, on any day other than this day, he would followed the man’s request. Let the man go and let him run.

But not this day. Not this night filled with bloodshed and betrayal of such a magnitude that made this man. The Drifter who controlled Styanax, who lost his leg to Ballas and then his arm to Duviri. The seemingly sole shield of the innocents of this place.

The death came quickly and Styanax left just as quickly as it had came.

[waterghostype]

the way lostshipping haters talk about them makes it sound like they had a 5 minute makeout scene each episode like be calmed

[deus-ex-mona]

i miss her…

[theotherdamnincubus]

uhhh this is embarrassing. Fun fact about me at some point (before I met @shiny-coin-collector ) I tried to see if I looked like a girl if people would like me more (like as a person) and it did not work

[tinystantheman]

Do you put on bandaids to look cool, or do you actually get hurt a lot?

BOTH!

[wistrea]

i was just hit with the realization that in like a few months, that means i’ve been writing kira for five whole years 🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️

[habitual-creatures]

Mhm, we’re just dyeing my hair rn if you wanna help Toby

*casually running gentle a hand through Kevin’s hair*

Mmfh-

[the-unconquered-queen]

Because I'm seeing cakegate on my dash again, let's stir up some old drama

[samsammysamson]

*sigh and opens notebook*

*adds praise kink to list of reasons to love sam*

Bro i wasn’t even romantically attracted to Samson but this blog is making me attached like no other

I'm just a super likeable lil guy, what can I say?

[heartsbreaking]

the urge to make a mutant oc vs the fact that EVERYTHING i know about the x-men has been absorbed through osmosis and rewatching apocalypse like 4 times.

[number1-sheriff]

" Heh cowards! I don't need no darn flashlight! I know exactly where I'm goin'! "

" But boy, I could sure use a drink right about now... "

[byanyan]

not to keep yapping on and on about how these books feed me a lot of byan energy, but like. i'm flipping back through the sections i flagged while i was reading and...

"She was perfectly content as long as people left her in peace. Unfortunately society was not very smart or understanding; she had to protect herself from social authorities, child welfare authorities, guardianship authorities, tax authorities, police, curators, psychologists, psychiatrists, teachers, and bouncers, who (...) would never let her into the bar even though she was twenty-five. There was a whole army of people who seemed not to have anything better to do than to try to disrupt her life, and, if they were given the opportunity, to correct the way she had chosen to live it. ㅤIt did no good to cry, she had learned that early on. She had also learned that every time she tried to make someone aware of something in her life, the situation just got worse. Consequently it was up to her to solve her problems by herself, using whatever methods she deemed necessary."

like, come on. u get it. u understand this aspect of my obsession. u change the pronouns and that's just byan, ok.