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[thedriftcr]

tf is this interface

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Guardian. Whatever she needs.

Eris Morn | Destiny 2 | rp blog | as told by Mercury | 25+

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❝ i offer a good bargain, sister! plus, I'm a very charming individual. very good lookin' too ❞.

Sometimes it surprised him how fast he gathered his people and rallied them to play an experimental version of a game that had all the potential to kill every one of them. Were the guardians so tired of what the Vanguard sanctioned and allowed that a little mystery and intrigue was so damn attractive to them? Not that he thought about it too frequently --his scheme had worked beautifully, to the point where even the Vanguard themselves couldn't deny how useful his plot was to all of them in the end. Now he had his hands full of projects he never imagined would float to him with this much ease, and while time to work on his own personal projects was cut short, it all fed the same beast in the end. It was fulfilling, kept his pockets filled with glimmer, and let him look deeper into the issues he already had on his radar. Not too bad of a con game.

The Drifter set a rusty screwdriver down to wipe his hands on a dirty rug to his left, before reaching for another tool but not move too much and interrupt Leah fiddling with his shoulder pads. He didn't mind the company of the teenager. Poking her brain and her attitude was something he had grown to enjoy incredibly, and it was better to have someone with no true affiliation sneaking in every now and then.

❝ yeah, guardians can be very prickly. took me some time to get that crowd, you know. once they realized I can do what Shaxx can't, they realized how boring what they had been force fed all this time was and they all came to me. besides, no matter how many times they deny it, they all love some good ol' mystery dingy fella making their darkest desires a reality. wanna give this a try? ❞

“you’re a dick.” 

crossing her arms over her chest, leah sighs. her lips press together, half-frowning, half-pouting. no matter how much she has endured, no matter what she has survived, she is still just a child; a teenager struggling to make it work in this world. it isn’t easy. it never has been. but little moments like this, they help. 

not that she could ever admit such outloud. to tell the drifter he is a source of comfort is to cut our her heart and offer it to him on a silver platter. it is to give another adult the chance to ruin her, to leave her trembling and bleeding on the edge of the wall. (it also helps that she has a bit of a temper, and that is easy enough to turn on him. bitter is better, after all.)

“man, i need to get my hands on whatever guardians you’re running with,” snorts the girl. she reaches over, to take one of his untouched tools and fiddle. painted nails run along the clean edges. “you always have so fuckin’ many at your gates, in gambit. and they don’t even ask questions? every risen i get in contact with is always, like, ‘oh, you’re a child.’ and ‘hey don’t use that word; you’re, like, three years old.’ and my personal favorite, ‘did you just shoot me?’ it’s a mess, man.”

a huff. leah reaches over, and gently begins to fiddle with the fluff of his shoulderpads. 

“you know how risen can be.”

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❝ cagey's one hell of a way to put whatever that was, brother ❞.

He's seen cagey. He knows cagey. He's been the cagey one in too many times than what he would admit to anyone. It's been his way of surviving the most complicated of situations, and it has worked better than any other technique he had ever used. Theo's level of cagey wasn't anything like what he had experienced, not precisely for the better. Panic looks different on anyone, yet panic plus pure mistrust? That looked more like what he had experienced in the last Gambit match. Which made him wonder why, of all places, he would bring mistrust to his playground.

It made him uneasy to think about it.

❝ you owe money to someone? don't tell me you brought some lovers quarell to my games, brother, i don't like havin' to settle divorces in between rounds ❞.

sometimes i wonder what’s going on in that head of yours . @thedriftcr

theo glances up from cleaning lumina, one pointed ear flicking in drifter’s direction, the jewelry hanging from it jangling. it’s not the first time he’s heard such a sentiment expressed, but the party saying it has his lips twitch upwards in a crooked, amused grin.

“yeah, drifter?” the awoken looks back to his work, but keeps that ear turned. “and what’s got you saying that, hm? i know that last gambit match went a little weird, but invaders make me cagey. can’t help it.” he realizes full well the gambit match probably has nothing to do with this conversation, but a man can hope.

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i live

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I'm about this close to make a multimuse blog because I miss rping some of my old characters

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To continue the charade, he laughs, well aware the statement he made of his crew was true, not even bothering to refute it. For the sake of the charade, this time, he'll let him fall into the false commodity having one right detail brought. It would be all he has to fall back to for now.

❝ oh no, brother, I ain't going to deny that claim, but that's all you have! the oone claim you'll hold over my head to make ya look like the innocent one. that's alright, I ain't bitter about a good job done great, you know ❞.

Bingo. There it was, the sole reason behind the misplaced hatred. The one piece that made so much sense to everything Nordic did against him, and yet it was a pitiful image for a person who could hold the threads of time in his fingers. It was hilarious, and disappointing.

Of everyone else he had antagonized for no reason, the Drifter wasn't expecting this one to give him such an empty answer, yet one that held so much more information than Nordic perhaps realized. He had his doubts, oh he had. Now he would only need to group everything he had learned so far, and ask the right people. Oh, this would be a fun side project, but one he wouldn't focus much of his energy.

❝ so after all this time, you're just mad because you can't pin me to a stereotype and I make your plans look bad on paper? ❞ And he's laughing, one that make him stop for a second and bend his core, hands on his knees, people turning to look at the source of such laughter. Then it stops, his tracking of Nordic continues, not a hint of the laughter remaining

❝ I'm not playing when I say I have more time than you do. I don't waste my seconds hating on someone for being smarter than you are, and for some petty reason. gotta give that one to you, that's the most creative reason to hate me I have ever heard. but no matter how badly you wanna make yourself believe I ain't special in your books, all that energy you're using to hate me for not understanding me?

--I'd say that makes me pretty special in your book, brother. glad I make ya lose sleep thinkin' of me ❞ .

"So it wasn't you, Redrix-3 and Joxer aboard the Tex Mechanica train? I must have been mistaken, mustn't've I? How silly of me. That would have been a terribly embarrassing accusation to make."

He doesn't rise to the Drifter's challenge. Because Nordic had used the SRL figuratively. What did he care if Guardians wished to kill themselves crashing their Sparrows into each other and the walls? It was impossible, however, to get those figureheads to decide on anything. Explained a lot, really, about why Crucible was slowly melting into an unrecognisable shitheap.

Poor Shaxx.

"I have seen much and more of your chicanery, Drifter," He shrugs, "Perhaps you do have everything figured out. Perhaps you really are the only one capable of getting us out of this mess in one piece. Hell, if I were a betting man I'd put my head on you and the Nine having some sort of interactions, even.

"Seems the sorta 'big picture' thing you'd go for, no?"

He doesn't stop, but he doesn't speed up. A hand raised here and there to people that themselves greet him, as few as they are, but he doesn't make an effort to involve himself in the lives of those around him, even those that consider themselves subordinate to him.

"The worst part of it all, Drifter, is that you're right. I don't have a good reason to hate you. You've been nothing if not polite since we've met, after all. How could I possible hold any disdain for you?"

"It's simple, really. You do not fit into my designs. You are an ugly blemish upon plans and schemes that I have wrought for years. You are impossible to predict. And I despise that, I despise you.

"You speak of having time? I have as much time as you, if not more, and yet no matter how I try... I cannot fathom an existence that does not involve you acting to infuriate me at every possible juncture.

"Perhaps I'm just a hateful creature. It seems reasonable to suggest and I wouldn't argue if you did. I am filled with hate. Not just for you, mind. You're not special."

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He doesn't budge with the slap on his shoulder, just for dramatic effects. He was aware of how much it infuriated her to be thought of as just a child, to be minimized into a category she crawled out with flying colors. Who could say they have survived everything she had, without the advantage of the light? Poking fun of her, however, was both entertaining and somewhat rewarding. The others were easy to get a rile up, but all it took from her was just one thing, and it worked every time like a charm.

The Drifter didn't mind having her watch as he worked on things. He had a market, she had her own as well. What she could learn from spying from looking over his shoulder would benefit her in the end and, who knows, if death does arrive for him once and for all, Leah could conquer his market. It would be hard to get rid of what he knows what to do, that mark would be on all of her creations for years to come should she do the right thing.

Ah, for now it would be best just to keep her spying and making jokes every now and then. ❝ you think they'll know what the pieces are for? you give them too much credit! ❞ he laughs. ❝ keep it vague enough they'll know it's for a good cause, but secret enough they won't just steal from you. and if they do steal? i got some repo men around i can lend. and, uh, seventeen ain't there yet. maybe in three years i might add you to the list, but i wouldn't count on it ❞.

"seven?"

it's nearly yelled, even as leah thwaps her hand against the back of his shoulder. mismatched eyes narrow, lips pressing into a frown. she will not let him get the better of her. she will not. but by all the fucked up pyramids in the sky, she wants to. she wants to huff and puff. maybe even smack him upside the back of the head for good measure.

but she doesn't. because, despite lacking a good amount of impulse control, she can at least contain herself this much. a huff escapes. she looks over his shoulder, to watch his work.

"yeah, 'cause i trust any damned risen to do a job for me. you insane? they just want the glimmer. i hire someone who realizes the pieces they're getting, and they'll sell it to the highest bidder. no way, man." crossing her arms over her chest, leah leans her hip against the table. her shoulders sag. "i'm seventeen, by the way. close enough to count. close enough to beat your ass."

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after a week of my body rebelling against me at all ends I will try to do replies and such.

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oh no, the rogue lightbearer is on the loose!

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Destiny 2 Gifs [77/∞] - Drifter in Season of Plunder Pt.3 | Bartender Drifter.

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Destiny 2 Gifs [74/∞] - Drifter in Season of Plunder Pt.1.

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I love one (1) shady garbage man.

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eats jade coin like a chip

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i'm making new icons for this blog now that there's a lot more cutscenes and i just forgot how goofy drifter looks in the first cutscene of joker's wild like

i have a feeling i'm gonna abuse this goofy ass icon

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❝ i said it once and i'm gonna say it again: a woman's gonna be the one that kills me, and you ain't over the legal age yet to make the list. how old are you, seven? ❞ Teens were such a pain in the ass. Teens living in the city had every right to be so. Their living conditions were atrocious, having to grow in a world where their well being is determined by a giant ball who decided who was worthy of super powers or not. That's why he allowed Leah to hang around his area of the annex whenver possible --the least he could do was show her the ropes her knowledge was missing to ensure complete and successful survival.

He might've had a hand on how fucked up the world was. Might as well make sure it would be somewhat decent for her.

❝ you might have the tenacity, but you ain't got a business mind to match it ❞ he was partially joking. He grabs a second piece of his loot and moves to a different table to clean both pieces. ❝ you got the glimmer, hire some guardians to do the searchin' for you! you're gonna miss out on all the goodies down at Titan for not thinking ahead. last night i got some stuff to improve shield capacities for ships. once i tweak some pieces here and there, it's gonna get me a good chunk of money on the market. you're missing out! ❞

an exaggerated gagging noise comes from the teen as she turns from him. her shoulders tremble, back arching. she pretends to wretch, dramatic and playful. there isn't a day goes by that he isn't the most annoying little shit, and she, unfortunately, enjoys his company. but that doesn't mean she'll make it easy on him.

sure as shit, she's never made anything easy for anyone.

"i'm going to kill you one day, old man, and even gd will consider it a mercy," says the civvie, turning to face him. her face is scrunched into a hateful frown. laughter dances behind her eyes. "your days are numbered. best start countin'."

pushing herself off the railing, leah makes her way over to him. her hands are clasped behind her, head tilted to try to peak over his shoulder. if he's got some good shit, then she wants in. she wants to know, at least.

"yeah, that's great and all, shithead, but i don't exactly have access to the depths of titan. your guardians can barely survive down there, and they've got your neat little suits! me? i got a tenacity to rival gd's, but little else. maybe some fightin' hands. a gun. nothin' that'll help me under that methane sea, though."