Après moi le deluge
& & & Be afraid of the lame;
They'll inherit your legs.
& & & Be afraid of the old;
They'll inherit your souls,
& & & Be afraid of the cold;
They'll inherit your blood.
& & & Apres moi, le deluge;After me comes the flood......
((The Blog of a RED Spy who goes by the name of Aide. May be NSFW at times.))
((Sidebar by Hunts/redsnipah!))
His forked tongue flicked out again and he smiled. It looked like an escape pod. If he was lucky, it would be damaged and the inhabitant dead. If the pod was empty or the owner was dead, it would be up for grabs and he could do what he wanted with it. Of course, he could always kill them and steal the pod. No one would ever know the difference.
Flying his dark ship closer, glad that it was camouflaged against the blackness of space in case of hostiles, he scanned the pod. There was one person aboard. He couldn’t tell if they were alive, but he was pretty sure he could handle one person. His tractor beam caught his prize and he began to reel it in.
The pod was pulled into the scavenger’s ship without a struggle. The person inside was effectively in stasis, making her options null and void. Still, as if knowing what was happening, she shifted in her induced sleep, looking less than peaceful. Perhaps the dreamlessness that was promised hadn’t been ensured, leaving her to dream of her last moments of consciousness. It had only been a few hours, though, she was lucky to have been found this early.
Removed from the cold void of space and exposed to controlled conditions, the pod’s glass began to defrost, revealing its fairly worse-for-wear occupant. She didn’t look like much, perhaps, but at the very least she still had some weapons on her. Hopefully she wouldn’t need to use them.
"Am remembering this Spy..."
"As I am remembering this ‘eavy."
Still, the Spy is a little cautious, knowing she’ll have to fight him soon enough.
And in turn, he was quite fond of Berezi. While he was skeptical towards her true gender - she appeared male, but she didn’t quite smell right, not bursting with testosterone like their male team mates - he decided that really did not matter all too much. He was happy to simply have a friend.
His head seemed loose on his shoulders as he nodded, almost bobbling about as he did so. “Very - am remembering being warm blooded. Much easier.”
"I can imagine," Berezi shifted, unsure of how to proceed. A real conversation without any threats or sarcastic remarks was something she was unused to. So simple but…. very difficult. What was she supposed to talk about? The Spy wrung her hands, eyes lowered to stare at the floor.
Perhaps she should have run more tests, should have looked further into the origins of the mask, simply done more, but frankly, her team’s poor performance made her anxious to do better, and anything that could help would be utilized. She gave the box one last long look before tucking it under her arm, making her way down to the locker rooms to prepare. She didn’t want to put it on just yet, to save the surprise for when the clock started, instead taking the time to check her ammunition and sharpen her knife, ignoring the other REDs around her.
She would lead the board today, if only through sheer determination and will-power, and there was not a force on earth that would stand in her way. She took a deep breath, giving her teammates a quick glance before opening the wooden box and removing its contents. The mask was just as horrifying as she remembered, maybe even more-so, and she took no time to tie it into place. Anyone who saw her now, despite her small stature, would have to think twice. No Mercy today, nor any other day.
The clock’s countdown was far too slow. She could feel her heart beat thrumming through her, a pulsing energy she wasn’t sure she’d felt before. It was new, alien….. But she liked it. Berezi could feel the confidence building in her chest, like a bottle threatening to pop, and the moment the door opened, she was out and cloaked, ready for the first taste of blood.
((reminderi too have a sideblog))
((Ah yes, this motherfucker. What a tool.))
Ya know, when I experiment with my illustrations/graphic design, I tend to half-like it. I post it to see what other people think, but I really do like this one. Figures it would involve a hannya mask.
Anyways, the pun is inspired by Ron Wimberly’s Prince of Cats. There was a gang that wore noh theater masks. The pun is probably made other places, but that’s where I got it from.
Reblog if you are a NO GENDER rper.
Reiner laughed, low and long. It was amusing and at the same time it was not. There seemed to be absolutely nothing his overworking mind could not predict. Except assassination attempts and their varied methods with attempts on his life.
"Seeing as you lack the information I need about my dear brother, which by the way not to hurt your reputation or ego, I do not blame you for" he was a hard one to crack down. And Reiner was probably the only one that knew him inside out "I will request something different" he pointed at the golden watch that seemed to glitter just slightly from her pocket "The famous dead-ringer with a full explanation of to how work it, in exchange for one of my prototypes" he smiled "And why the prototype you ask? Because no one else has the schematics just yet, or can read them as a a matter of fact".
Reiner let the silence settle for a long moment as he leaned back in his chair, smiling and letting the spy work her details out. His schematics were rigged and ciphered. Which means only Reiner himself could translate them and make them work… and no one on this bloody earth would be able to help the poor spy with it but him. Yes, he did take pride in keeping all of his valuable notes hidden not only literally but figuratively as well.
"I suppose you understand that giving you a blueprint will be of no use to you. You still need me to help you with it. So … I think it is a fair trade. Your watch, for my medigun. And the best part about my medigun is that no one will be able to trace it back to its source. Namely myself. Because it has been kept a secret for a very long while. I like to keep my things where they belong - with me".
So what would it be, he wondered.
Perhaps that was her first mistake, letting him know what she wanted. With that knowledge, and her lack of pertinent information, he could turn the tides as he wished, which included asking for her Dead Ringer. Unlike Reiner, the Spy did not own prototypes and she only had one, the one she used in battle. This seemed as if it may not have been worth it, for as much as she wanted the medi-gun, her Dead Ringer was the means by which she she avoided death.
Besides, she knew when someone was trying to play her for a fool. By keeping the medi-gun a prototype, especially one that only he had the notes and blueprints to. There was the catch, she knew that there would be one, but this one was almost not worth it. She scratched the back of her neck, doing her best to remain relaxed. He had planned well, but she wasn’t quite ready to give in yet.
"You act as if I don’t have anymore information left. At least let me give you the last of what I have seen before you start trying to get a hold of my toys." She flashed a crooked smile, crossing her arms over her chest. She could deal with ciphers, if she worked long and hard enough, but she would prefer to put her energy elsewhere, like the battles her team had been losing the past three weeks.
TAGGED BY: pensandpapercuts
- What’s your name? Anna
- When is your birthday? May 18th
- Where are you from? Tampa, Florida
- Have a crush? Ehhhhhhh. I sort of do but I’m not sure that I do.
- What’s your favorite color? Black
- Write something in caps? I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO SAY, BUT HERE I AM.
- Got a favorite band/artist? Do you really need to ask that, pfff. Imagine Dragons, The Eagles, Creedence Clearwater Revival, Santana, The Dresden Dolls, The Black Keys, Arctic Monkeys, etc.
- Favorite number? 00 or 3
- Favorite drink? Green Tea.
- Tag ten some people: Nawww.
"These women fought bravely, and were reported to be the last to retreat."
To read on the role of women during the Spanish Civil War, read Lisa Lines’ article, Female Combatants in the Spanish Civil War: Milicianas on the Front Lines and in the Rearguard.