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 Mog Rambles
Mog
 Posted: Dec 13 2015, 06:18 PM
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To be filled with snippets from my muse's. Because holy shit they won't shut up. x)
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Mog
 Posted: Dec 19 2015, 07:34 PM
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“You're very own C.R.A.B. huh? How quaint..”

“It's not really mine..and don't try to make it sound better than it is..”

Long pink tresses, curled at the ends rose and fell when the taller woman sighed. Taller, by a mere 2 inches. 2 Inches, 2 years, 2 million flight ranks above him, always two steps ahead of Gillian.

“I didn't mean it like that. Not like it sucked. I meant it like, its great. Really..”

Gillian shifted in his seat somewhat, watching the stars float by the windshield. His companion turned around then, blue eyes bright, swirling cerulean, like stories of Earths oceans. There was something in them, that he could not yet decipher. The spandex-flexed fighter suit moved with ease as she shirted her weight from hip to hip, arms resting comfortably under her breasts.

“You belong up here, with us. Always have.” She continued, while her “white sheep” developed a scowl.

“Thanks Peach..” He murmured, injecting sincerity in his voice.

With her formal, if not side skirted “Congratulations”, set aside, she leaned over her pale pointed nose brushing against his dirty dark one. She inhaled the faint scent of grease and sweat.

“So, tell me about your Captain..” She pleaded, flashing a pointed canine grin.

“I hate you..” He pulled his face away from hers, unable to keep straight faced.

“I knew it..I know you.” She squeaked releasing her arms from their folded position grasping the edge of his seat to hoist herself into zero gravity, leaving him in his acclaimed seat, pink tresses whisking away in the reflection of the glass.
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Mog
 Posted: Jan 17 2016, 10:28 PM
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(Warning: Don't read if you have issues with drugs or relationship abuse mmk? Here's some more Space Trash.)

Gillian found himself floating in space, the faint beeping of the oxygen monitor echoing in his ears. His body felt stiff, cold, muscles contracting to restrict their movements. His head felt light-headed, eyes dry from lack of moisture. Every discomfort known before was quickly fading to pleasant numbness. Even now, facing death, space felt beautiful. Weightless, absolved of sin.

The gods would forgive him, but would his loved ones forgive him?

He was tired. Tired of living. Tired of emotions that wracked and drained his soul.

Arms outstretched, in literal attempt to reach for the surrounding stars. They were always out of reach even now. They were the last things he saw. He was ok with that. He felt calm, ready for death.

The details of the following events were hazy as best.

-x-

“There's nothing out here..I'll take another loop and report back.” The thick baritone voice interjected over the intercom.

“Fly Fast.” Was his commanding officer's reply.

“You know it.” He replied, with a half smirk.

Harbinger soared through space like swift death, the engine rumbling in soft purrs. A matte black fighter with cobalt blue accents on the wings.

Dark thick boots slammed on the throttles, stars looking like passing streetlights. A scrappy white speck could be seen in the distance and his dark eyes narrowed, fingers hot on the trigger. He slowed the engine, taking a swift pass before circling back closer.

“What the..?” He asked, heaving a sigh into the helmet creating a brief fog.

A casualty of war perhaps? The helmet had a glare and the suit didn't show any patches or insignia to identify.

He took the risk and slowed along side the body, promptly attaching hooked cables to his suit. The thick shield of his cockpit opened and he stood out and grabbed the lost astronauts arms. There was no response so he assumed it truly was a body.

And then, as he pulled it closer, the glare of the astronauts face shield softened, revealing a familiar face. The white sheep himself. He'd come back to his Shepard. There was moisture inside his helmet, beads of condensation welling up inside.

Harbinger's pilot, pulled the body inside closing the cockpit. He took his seat and pulled the body seated on top of him, letting gravity take it's toll on their bodies.

“I'll be damned White Sheep.” He spoke, pulling off the others helmet along with his own. The white sheep, Gillian. His body was cold, his breathing was dangerously shallow. “You got a death wish or something..?” He asked, pulling a spare oxygen mask and holding it on his face, gloved hands cradling his head.

Gillian lay with half lidded eyes, bright ambers dull with lifelessness. The sudden influx of oxygen caused him to cough into the mask, his body twitching. He felt all the uncomfortable tenseness he'd lost earlier as his muscles drank up the necessary oxygen.

“Easy.” Malachi said softly, his grip growing firm.

Gillian recognized the voice and struggled to get up, palms reaching for the clear panels of the cockpit. The more he breathed, the better he felt, the stronger his instinct was to flee. He'd rather float back out into space than be in here trapped with Malachi. There was a stifled “No” escaping his lips, and a terrible shake snaking up his spine.

Malachi frowned, smoothing white hair out of Gillian's face. He looked complacent, but Gillian knew there was a terrible seething anger below the surface. “C'mon now. Don't be like that.”

The pilot's hands took advantage of their confined space, weaving between Gillian's legs so they were spread and pinned uncomfortably against the heat of the ship. He took the oxygen away from him and Gillian gasped his hands instinctively reaching for his neck as he choked from the sudden deprivation. His eyes widened and he whimpered.

Malachi held it just within reach, his free hand grabbing a pill nestled in the cup holder. “You remember this don't you? Like old times.” He chuckled softly. He was toying with him. His gloved hands pried open Gillian's mouth with ease, index and pointer shoving the pull down his throat like a dog.

Gillian scoffed at the sudden invasion of hands in his mouth, the metallic taste of the pill on his dry tongue. Space Dust. How could he forget? How he wanted to forget that terrible drug.

One of Malachi hands covered his mouth and the other gripped a fistful of white hair, tilting his head back so he could look at his pretty face.

Gillian swallowed, his eyes narrowed, but looked equally pathetic being at the others mercy.

“Good boy.” Malachi uttered, giving an aggressive tug on the hair he was holding.

Gillian's eyes dilated as the pill slid down his throat, feeling the pill absorb quickly into his system. His head lolled back against Malachi's shoulder.

Malachi removed his hand from Gillian’s mouth, pressing his thick lips to his. “That's it baby.” He said finally placing the oxygen mask around his face again. “Just like old times..” He inhaled sharply against the skin of Gillian's neck, savoring the warmth coming back to his skin.
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Mog
 Posted: Feb 21 2016, 07:05 PM
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Captain Owlry's retirement was a expansive and luxurious event packed into one evening. At 75, the man of such high stature and military achievement resigned from his post to become a close Advisor and Confidant. It was time to rest his wings so to speak.

Space Haulers didn't belong at such events, but Gillian and Daniel had become somewhat honorary members of the Nest Fleet. Adopted by bloodline not my military stature and Gillian was more than willing to sweat through a crisp collared shirt and tie to sample the simple luxury of champagne served on golden saucers that looked like they belongs to royalty than a the bird bunch here. Affectionately named of course.

A dress code had not been mandatory, but many Soldiers opted out of their worn flight suits to wear their pressed suits, littered with their accomplishments. They were a loud and assorted bunch, true to their Captain's odd tastes.

Peach, who had slinked into a emerald backless floor length dress, stood modestly entertaining a few of her fellow ship mates. She carried the conversation, with men half baffled she'd cleaned up so well, and half unable to treat her like a real lady after years of knowing her.

When Gillian approached, they subserviently nodded their heads, drifting to another cluster.

“Hey, come here often?” He greeted, nursing the prized champagne he talked days about leading up to this event.

Her lips curled at the edges, forming a smirk but not enough to bare her teeth. “Oh you know, I do. Sometimes..” She lifted her glass to him, which he toasted with a clink. She held it for show, still full for the past few hours. Gillian noted.

“Not drinking tonight?” A eyebrow raised in suspicion.

“Nah, Last time I drank at one of these, I was hungover for days.” She paused. “I mean I was the life of the party though..”

It was his turn to smirk now, linking his free arm with hers.

“If I didn't know any better, I'd be thinking there is something..” He paused. “Someone you're not telling me..”

A slight tightness in her jaw now, her mouth forming a thin line. “I don't mean to keep secrets.”

Her eyes wandered into the changing crowds. Gillian's eyes followed. His father and Uncle had kept their Retiring Captain in close company. Raj was angrily stalking about like a panther on the prowl. It was Pirapet who approached, her meek shyness pulling him aside to cool down. Daniel had acquired a gold platter of food all his own, and was ever popular in the company of his other siblings Kiran, Wren, and Noemi.

“I know that.” He affirmed her defensive statement, eyes giving a laughing Daniel another look before tilting his torso to look at her.

“I..” She started and then tugged on his arm away to a secluded bench, secluded with foliage, contrasted against the window that showed stars scattered among space. She met her reflection when she leaned part of her forehead on the glass.

After some time.

“Well?” He inquired. He sat with her, his right foot resting on the opposite knee.

“There is..someone..someones..” Her cerulean's filled with water, glassing over. Gillian's champagne was abandoned on the floor, his forehead pressed against the available space left like they did when they were kids.

Gold eyes met hers, pale hands in his. “Someones..?” His tone gentle.

Her eyes fluttered downward, his followed swiftly and then upward again.

“I uh..a-are you sure..?” He tried to hide the apparent panic in his voice.

“I'm sure. I..mean it's confirmed..” She pulled their joined hands close to her stomach. Gillian wriggled his thumb free to swipe along where the assumed gift would be hiding. It was subtle to not warrant the attention of others.

The next hard question. “Did they say it's ok?”

She shook her head. “It is..a risk.” After the accident her body had taken a beating, she was suspected barren. All of which broke is heart.

“Are you going to ke-”

“Gillian please!” She uttered with frustration, her eyes squeezing shut.

His body recoiled to a safer distance. “I'm sorry. It's just wow..” What words of comfort could he give? He'd never dealt with something like this before.

She'd be worried about herself, a healthy baby, her career. The father? None of this seemed planned, it was obvious. A crease in his forehead tacked the list for her.

“It'll be ok.” He offered, siddling closer to her. Her head slid down from the glass to his shoulder. An exhausted sigh fell from her lips.

They were quiet for what seemed like ages.

“So..am I allowed to guess who the dad is?” He asked cautiously, his fingers rubbing over her hand.

He could feel her eye roll. “Sure.”

“That one.” He pointed immediately out into the crowd. A tall man, built like a tank. Size and stature that almost made Daniel look small. Almost. A short sandy crew cut, one soft brown eye. The other sealed shut, a long jagged scar running over the eyelid. He wasn't dressed for the occasion, still wearing a custom fighter Pilots suit. A white wolf head, fangs bared was patched on the shoulder, contrasting against the dark suit. Arched lettering stitched in the back, white, simple. Kozak.

As if he heard someone talking about him he turned to look at them, and then dropped his gaze nervously.

“He's..not military..” He added.

Peach shook her head. “ Wolfpack. A mercenary group. How do you know, I mean that it was him?”

Gillian smiled a little as if she just told him a secret. “You're not the only one who knows how to read a best friend.” He squeezed her hand and she returned the squeeze.
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