justicar
samara
I am
a ruined vessel of
sorrow and regret
but I am
free.

‹indie samara›

awakenedcollector:

  He figured as such. 

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     ”Kazar.”

  And he lapses into silence.
       Looking away again, to the side and out the window, brings him to a point.

            “I see you also enjoy the view.” 

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   "I do.“

"It is relaxing,” though the action is not performed willingly, a small smile tugs at the corner of aubergine lips.

awakenedcollector:

    “Indeed.”

He wouldn’t understand her opinion. It’s always been natural to him, his people. Like breathing.
     Kazar turns around, all six of his eyes focusing on her.

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     “Your code had caused for you to put an end to what you had cherished.” Thankfully, he realizes he would be overstepping a boundary were he to continue, so he doesn’t. “What is your name?”

He’s smart to stop.
   She is not one to react violently,
      but it is not easy to speak of such things.

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“Samara. What of you?”

awakenedcollector       

awakenedcollector:

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Regardless, he doesn’t move an inch.

      Reading information.”
Briefly, his eyes narrow in concentration.
     ”The residue of this ship is powerful. Your trace was among it.” 

Trace. Residue.
It sounds a little gross, frankly.

      “Reading.” She has never encountered a docile Collector.
   This encounter is a little off-putting to say the least.

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awakenedcollector       

awakenedcollector:

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     ”There was an asari here, in the past; she was powerful, yet going through great inner turmoil.
              …—Hm. At least there is one thing I still retain.” 

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      “And what might that be?”

©   THEME