viperhiss-blog

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hallucylon: gaius vc: i mean... what color ARE they tho 👀

hahah blood red after i MURDER you 🔫

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STARBUCK:

SHE WAS RAGE INCARNATE, FIRE-EYED, FURY-TONGUED. lee was right in front of her, now, close enough for her to feel the blistering cold that radiated from his icy demeanor. yet she must’ve stood too close to him, because slowly but surely he was turning from apollo to ICARUS: the cold exterior began to melt, to STEAM, until he was snarling at her as loudly and furiously as she was snarling at him.

and she would be lying to the suns and the stars if she claimed that she didn’t love EVERY MINUTE of it.

even in her miserable defeat ( because that’s what this was; she was in the wrong and she knew it ) kara thrace earned the small victory of making lee adama do what no one else could: LOSE CONTROL. some jealous part of her urged her to push him further, to see just how far she could pull at his heartstrings before he snapped ——— provided he didn’t make her snap FIRST. he was lee and she was kara, after all; he made her feel like nothing else could.

AND MAKE HER FEEL, HE DID. her mind was a maelstrom; emotions whirled so rapidly she could hardly keep them apart. anger became self-loathing became guilt became RAGE became sadness became joy became jealousy became anger ——— and they danced, every single frakkin’ one, around lee FRAKKIN’ adama, drawn to his existence like a moth to a flame.

so find a way to deal with it ( she can’t, she couldn’t, she never will, she was powerless against the way he made her feel ) because I’M NOT ASKING.

his breath caressed her cheek ——— a spark on dry kindling ——— and she IGNITED.

her fist snapped out, a vicious right hook that took him straight to the angular, sculpted plane of his jaw. his reaction was instant and immediate; his retaliation hit her SQUARE IN THE MOUTH. kara’s head snapped back, haloed hair ricocheting from the impact, and she spit red. the fire spread then, from her heart up to her face, as something dark and twisted in her REVELED in the blow ( in the shadows of her heart she heard the whisper of a voice, screaming at her, you’re bad luck, kara, as he headed out the door and left them alone, the hideous crack of her knuckles shattering in the doorjamb, suffering is good for the soul and YOU’RE BAD LUCK ).

why can’t lee adama see that?

blood pounded. knuckles ached. kara’s eyes met lee’s, and for a brief moment the fire died and the fractured parts of her soul bled through. regret, guilt, loneliness ——— HIT ME AGAIN.

gods only knew she deserved it.

Oh, how she made him feel as he did, burning midst a flame that charred his heart and soul. Into bone-dry infernos swelled the sparks she’d lit in him, and how madly did it sputter – how fiercely did it fume. Oft was Lee seen as the gales of mid-winter… Such poetry held its worth, a truth between whispers. Yet, here, in a fury, he did naught but seethe and smolder, raging with the likeness of a blazing late June. Yes, she was of the sun, blistering and burning. Little fate left had he but to sink beneath the cinders.

And how quickly did it eat away at his bones, laying claim to his body and turbulent spirit. It led a campaign of wholesale destruction. It conquered his conscience as she struck him with force.

Feeling that blooming pain warming the curve of his jaw, Lee moved before he bothered to think. The deckhands watched on in muted fascination The silence that prevailed roared like gunfire salvo. When his knuckles connected near the swell of her lips, the resounding crack! that echoed near petrified. It rung like noon-bells on a Caprican church, but there followed no faithfuls, no disciples or prayers. Surely, that blow would leave her a bruise – but now, no matter: it could match his bloody own.

And as terrifying as it were, as foolish as it seemed, Lee reveled in the disaster of such blistering heat. Few were those things that made him this alive, but their Kara–

Gods, Kara.

Breathing hard, beloved Apollo searched deep into her gaze. A stormy swell brewed within them. He swore he could taste the thunder in the rain. Adrenaline waning, he at last reached for the ache of her blow, fingers trailing gently toward the ridge of his chin. Unhinging his jaw once, Lee caught the hints of copper. Blood sickly-sweet painted the plane of his tongue. Yet, the twinge he felt compared not to that heartache he saw, that anguish and guilt that burdened Kara Thrace.

Do it again, it said in a simmering tone. Strike me harder.

“You have your orders,” Lee murmured near breathlessly, denying her her wishes, her self-driven blame. For, despite all their differences, she must know he loved her so – dearly and completely, loyally and true. Rage seeping from the marrow of his bones, there was left naught but the sway of introspection, and heavily did it strike him beneath his ribs.

It was as though she thought herself nothing. How could she spurn him for wanting her alive?

Though, it seemed not the time for weeping heart-to-hearts, for ardent confessions or sniveling  words. Still, something achingly personal shone through his professionalism, didn’t it? “You can die when I let you,” he began with a bleeding heart, “so I suggest you get used to living.”

Why, it couldn’t have been plainer: You can’t leave me that easily. No, never. I’m not gonna let you die.

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“I know why I was mad at you, Kara. ‘Cause you were doing what you always did: buck authority and get away with it. I bucked authority once…and I almost lost everything. So I guess when I showed up on Pegasus and there you were, doing it all over again…I don’t know—pissed me off.”

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ZEUS:

Make all your problems go away.

“You think you’re the only one who’s lost? Who’s suffered?” His chest filled. It tightened, strained, and against his best efforts he thought about it: all the men who never came back; Zak crying then walking then grown up and lying with six feet of dirt sitting on top of him.

Adama inched closer. 

“There’s not a man aboard this ship who hasn’t lost something—someone. Now you have a choice: either you live with that, roll with the punches, or you let it chew you out until there’s nothing left. No one’s saying it isn’t hard. No one’s saying it’s easy. But sometimes being a leader means losing a part of yourself… so no one else has to.” Save face. Be strong–look it even if, inside, it’s like your whole world is falling apart, catching fire, burning away. Fall apart, so does your crew. Adama’s voice fell to a dangerous rumble. They were inches apart. “You’re CAG. Look after your family—while you have it.”

And what had the hero said to the crown? No, he recalled, heart shuddering in quakes. I will not bear so heavy a weight. Lee steeled his soul before the toils of this burden, a young man whose ‘no’ hadn’t been a welcomed choice. Like his father, however, this thundering Zeus, Apollo must order his faithful to waste. Standing tall and straight, he looked hard into his commander’s gaze. Nary an inch did either give. A nerve in his jaw jumped and twitched.

Even when speaking reality did Lee spurn him so. What? And all of this he hadn’t known before? Hadn’t endured before? Yes, why tell him so in a tone bespeaking fury, disappointment and anger exacerbating cold truths? Raising his chin defiantly, the young CAG returned that icy glare. Look after his family, huh... "I wouldn’t worry about that.” 

Wrenching his eyes away, Lee Adama took in a single breath. It filled him with ice deep in his chest. He felt it keenly, his father’s pain, and it was this alone that told him to leave. Grimacing, this once loving son peered up one final time. Weightily, he finished, “I’ll make sure to keep mine.”

Yes. One of them had to.

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sooo you and kara, huh?

He’d heard that phrasing many times before, though it was often in his head that they echoed away. You and Kara. Kara and Lee. Why, quite different did it sound on another tongue! Brows quirking, Lee near huffed at the implication. His body, stood straight, gave no tells worth telling. “Didn’t know my social life was that interesting,” came the CAG’s flippant reply.

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flyboy? more like nerdboy )^:

:^o ????? :^ (((( true!!!!!

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Long had they sewn the seeds of discontent, its budding blooms cropping in the wake of bloody war. Still, vindictive, they would smite the wretched Cylons, damn them all to hell if by their dying breath... And, true, how appropriate as Lee rubbed at tired eyes; the pilot looked due to dream in rest or fall. Weighed by fatigue were his shoulders, and in his gaze, a fury drug-induced. For days he stood on standby as the Galactica fled her foe. The stress undermined the many. In the air, a foul tension grew. "The same is happening everywhere. We’re all running on fumes here," Apollo remarked midst grave reports. The riots and despair... Right, with all this-- "How you holding up?"

@queenspy

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TEN FAVORITE BSG CHARACTERS      └ 04.  Lee “Apollo” Adama

“Don’t we have a responsibility? I mean, as leaders, don’t we have an obligation to question our actions, to—I don’t know—make sure that the decisions we make are the right decisions?”

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viperhiss:

Vipers. I think we should take some time out to consider what it means to be a Galactica Viper.                Stranded in space and fleeing the ever grave Cylon threat, it is largely amidst the stars that humanity’s struggle for survival breaks out. Despite being trained in the use of sidearms and, for many, finer ground-combat, it is almost exclusively among the cosmos that humanity can show its fury. That is, of course, where the Vipers come in. They are man’s immediate front-line of defense, and their failings and shortcomings can incur those losses most catastrophic. Mistakes are something that, now, more than ever, must be avoided, and so they are forced to adapt to a job whose demands for clarity and precision are always growing. The expectations can be excruciating; indeed, only the toughest in body and spirit could ever hope to survive this detail. And, as the number of planes and pilots are relatively low, they have to teach themselves to be a Raider’s darkest fear. Loss and surrender are never an option. Even with the enemy’s advantages in both technology and sheer numbers, Vipers continue to often outmatch and outgun them. These dauntless starfighters rely largely on gut, natural flyers with an amazing gift whose primary duty is to destroy. Killing, after all, ensures that they, as a race, can breathe another day, and that is no reality lost on them.                They are, without a doubt, some of the most worn out inhabitants left of mankind. Most have lost everything – their homes, their friends, their beloved families – but they no less cling onto something the Cylons may never tear away: hope. For some, they fight for the man beside them. For many, it is for a lofty dream of finding Earth. Others, Lee knows, hop into their cockpit when the sirens blare as they sure how to do much else. Nonetheless, they put their weary, worn lives on the line every moment the Cylons come, hoping to thwart any losses. If the day brings 35,000 souls left, then the Vipers will take to the stars to keep it that way. Their bodies are strong and enduring having to withstand the pulls of space, but their spirits somehow prove ever more indomitable. The Galactia’s Vipers are surely some of humanity’s finest and most selfless souls.

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It was in black holes where he knew life would perish, crumbling midst storms of some ravenous dark. Swallowing whole beloved suns and the ever aging galaxies, these very chasms knew naught of being sated; they consumed with a great hunger, gnashing all in its maws asunder. Yet, sharpened teeth laid elsewhere, didn’t it?, soldered onto the wings of humanity’s Vipers. Apollo, heart thudding, gazed out from his fighter’s cockpit. Yes, he knew in time all would end in violent space, but this fleet... Why, they, too, held the air of endless dark. Where had they suddenly warped from? "Actual, we've got a problem here-- Actual, do you copy!" his voice rose in sharp alarm, static gutting him from the comms. Dread told him at once it was their doing-- "What are you?" he murmured to any who’d listen.

@arielshepard: end of all things.

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sneaks up behind him while he's distracted with the latest cap assignments (oh the joys of rising through the ranks) and wraps her arms around him. it's supposed to be a wrestling maneuver, but instead it turns into something more resembling a hug. "gotcha!"

She caught him off guard, surprised him entirely, for, mind you, she was Kara Thrace. Smiling, Lee huffed a laugh as he bent forward in her arms, dragging her with him in an effortless sway. It was no fight he poured much heart in; the struggle he gave was laughable at best! Still, he dared not say it, and grappling firmly her arm, her Captain glowed with a quiet joy. “Some of us have work to do. You should try it some time,” he chided without heat, his dropped papers all but forgotten. Course… Too good for her now, huh?

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leans against the wall. ❝ capta—❞ trips.

Here, here, listen closely: was that choked laughter that filled the air? Lee paid them no mind, those light and mocking tones, a courtesy, perhaps, to the man sprawled on the floor. He craned his head low to watch him, brows furrowed in mild wonder. Now, they’d a suggestion for failed ‘maneuvers’, doctor: abort – while you still can.

“…Looks like you could use a hand,” Apollo remarked, offering his as the hallway cleared. Oh, the others would surely have a field day with this.

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I cannot believe that Leland Adama, idealist with a heart of gold, put his life on the line for humanity time and time again and lost nearly everything in the end. They find their home again, and finally, after so many toils, they can breathe and live rather than struggle and survive-- Yet, Lee says goodbye to his father who, while they were never quite warm, no less made an immense impact on his life. This very man leaves with a woman, Laura Roslin, with whom he deeply respected, knowing full well he would never see either again. Carolanne, his mother, passed well before, and Dualla, his wife, had been given a funeral whose memory still hurts him. Young Zak Adama dies before the end of the world came to be, and Kara Thrace, his one, greatest friend, disappears without a trace.

And it’s such a bittersweet ending because he has fought for humanity for so many grueling years, and at the end when they, as a race, can enjoy an age of peace, Lee has no one to spend it with. So, he takes to the mountains and treks through the plains, charting the stars and different constellations. On every highest point and in every breathtaking landmark, too, he probably says to no one “wish you were here.”

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“Hey--” Patience, like hope and lives, now felt ever more in short supply. Lee unhinged his jaw for a moment, feeling grave tension gnaw at his nerves. His head hummed with a ghosting pain. An aging ache burrowed deep in his bones. Haggard, the burden of playing humanity’s teeth robbed their dear Captain of tolerance, his hand wrenching firmly to yank the man closer. Now, praise his timing! A mere second later, and that thug -- that ruffian -- would have struck for blood. Slowly, the crowd dispersed as the fight settled. Lee lingered behind, looking up expectantly. "You want to run that by me again?” he grilled. What happened?

@atomiism: boy scout.

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@vipercrash continued from here.

How brightly she smiled. How vigorous in life. Contentment, all at once, hit him square in his gut, stronger than the kickback of a shotgun or the propulsion at launch. Yet, for all those starry seas whose currents Lee Adama had sailed, never once had he felt as weightless as now. Mind working, his expression soon warmed into mock confusion. If only her punches had discouraged that smirk.

"You take yours off yet?" he returned with much wit-- her costume, that is, though her face had already been revealed. Asshole.

From here, he could smell the woody notes of a strong and liquid amber, its taste rich and full. Sadly, his own hints were not as fun: aftershave and sobriety, long hours at the CIC-- Yet, Lee, ever stuffy in that uniform, appeared not too rankled. Eying the flask briefly, amusement shone: the best of Tauron, his once lost favorite. "Do I want to know where you got this?" he wondered brightly.

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COMMANDER:

❝        ——   APOLLO,  HUH?        ❞     there’s an easy, if muted, grin upon her features  ;   stress still heavily resonates with her physicality, though she hides it well enough.  hip cocked, her arms cross just beneath her breast as she gives the man a once - over,  head canting to the side as she considers him for a moment in silence.   shepard is calm,  outwardly   ;   but inside she’s a roaring fire, a ballad of unsung violence prepared to be belted out at a moment’s notice.   even that smile of hers,  while sweet, can be deceiving when used on the battlefield.  the calm before the storm in a woman with an affinity for destruction.  

❝   WELL, I CAN’T SAY  i’ve been ambushed by mercs in a conference room    —-   yet.   not about to hold my breath for that one.   might just jinx myself.    i spoke with the illusive man.   wish i didn’t have to, but might as well bite the damn bullet on my own terms.  convinced him it would be in his best interest to make sure we can give you the resources you need.   not sure how long it’ll take,  but we’ll get you fixed up.    ❞

It was a passing thought that had struck him, coming and going like the tides of the sea. Captain Lee Adama: what did she think of this tenacious spirit? Before that gaze like fine-cut glass, Apollo's gut mirrored the gales of a hurricane: tangled and twisted, knotted like mad. Galactica’s poster boy, however, braved her study with a practiced calm; indeed, he would be lying to say it was a gesture he hadn’t returned. Chin raised and back straight, the pilot mirrored her measured intrigue. Capable and daring, sweet-tongued with razor teeth... She, unlike Cerberus, was well worth respecting.

“A bullet?” rose his voice, critical and sharp. “Is that we’re calling them?” After all Cerberus had done, he thought it more apt to consider them a salvo: destructive and indiscriminate, a barrage of foul destruction. Still, she bit that bullet and had swayed them in her favor, hadn’t she? Lee, in time, relaxed his jaw. “Well, frankly speaking, Commander, nothing ever sounds that impossible coming from you. The Galactica–” Gods, what had happened to them? “–will take what she can get– and sir. It’s, uh, it’s just a callsign.” Apollo, that is. Lowering his head, that look he wore was of one quite secretive. To she known as Athena among his flock, the Captain confessed plainly, “Still a long way from being anything like yours.”