#(the writing machine in my head is firing on all sorts of cylinders right now)

[godzexperiment]

It was one of the spaces he actually occupied frequently; an complicated set of walls that he just stripped down to its bare bones emotionally most days. Loud music blaring, echoing around while he twirled around with his eyes closed. Ever so light hopping on, off the pews and enjoying himself. And song after song of it- until he was spinning ever so fast, with perfect balance on the back edge of the pew bench. Until the last song was hitting its final chords. With which he ran along its length- using one foot to push himself off into the air. That moment before gravity was able to grip tight. While he just sort of drifted; even with his wings not present. Before his boots impacted soundlessly, an little last spin on the tip of them for the final seconds of instrumental. Just standing there for an moment with his eyes closed. Then the little run, slight gliding despite the heavy traction of his boots with an little help of his wings to fill the dead air with some more music.

[thetomorrowshow]

Mutually Beneficial Ch. ix

First  -  Previous  -  Next

A/N: So this one is going to be a bit different. Fair warning.

Recommended listening: IDKhow - Modern Day Cain

Tw: Needles, unknown drugs, angst, medical equipment/machinery, brief description of injury, like super brief, like just a few words brief, little bit of panic, I think that’s everything

-

The woman pushed him onto the sliding table. “Stay calm,” she said reassuringly. He trusted her, for some reason. Maybe it was her relaxed expression, or her comforting yellow blouse. However, he didn't lie down yet, as she seemed to expect him to do. Instead, Roman glanced around at the twenty-some professional individuals sitting at the desks in the room. It was an odd setup, him and the MRI machine at the front of the room, the suited men and women half-paying attention. It reminded him in some ways of  a classroom, but they definitely weren't in any school he'd ever been to. It was sleek and modernistic, with the wall opposite, at the back of the room, entirely constructed of glass. Through the walls, far below, he could see the edge of a parking lot, tiny people walking to an out-of-sight entrance in the building, leading him to guess he was on an upper floor. The ceiling was high—high enough that he wondered if this was the top floor.

“Please, lie down.”

Roman obeyed now, almost unthinkingly. He couldn't rightly recall why he was here—a test of some sort? Probably.

The unnamed woman loomed over him, a sugary smile on her face, a syringe balanced in her fingers. “This will go into your chest,” she explained, gesturing to the syringe. “Then I'll wheel the table into the machine. Are you ready?”

Roman nodded. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the people in the room grow more attentive, some closing laptops, others pulling notepads out of desks.

As the syringe came closer, Roman panicked internally, realizing he was still wearing his shirt (a maroon t-shirt, which felt wrong for some reason). The woman didn't seem to mind, though, so he didn't bring it up. Instead, he focused on her long dark hair with blond highlights, her yellow blouse, her oddly cold hazel eyes behind rectangular glasses.

The tip of the needle pushed through his shirt; a shiver went up his spine at the cold metal on his skin. He observed wryly that it was directly above his heart, then squinted his eyes shut in preparation (of what, he didn't know) as she pushed it into his chest with a tiny prick of pain, then pressed the plunger down. Then—

His eyes shot open at the pain. Burning, vision-sharpening pain. He gasped as it spread outward from the needlepoint, hitting his fingertips and bouncing back to his chest in waves. A bespectacled man seated near the front of the room frowned at his obvious discomfort, then tapped something out on his computer.

“Time to start the MRI. How are you feeling?”

Roman gritted his teeth. “Ow,” he managed. A flurry of activity from the viewers. The woman nodded expectantly.

“It hurts, doesn't it? It'll put you to sleep, so try and relax.”

Roman took a stuttering breath and closed his eyes. She was right; he needed to relax. The machine started up, a lot of whirring a banging and loud beeps drowning out the sounds of typing and pencils scratching. His stomach lurched as the table he was on rolled into the large cylinder.

“Roman!” Bang bang bang. His eyes shot open.

“Roman!”

He tilted his head back. On a side of the room he hadn't paid attention to was a wall of glass, encasing the landing of a staircase. A man was on the other side, pounding on the glass that separated them, hollering his name. The man seemed familiar to Roman. He was dressed casually, blue jeans with a plum-colored sweater. An odd choice, he thought. It wasn't all that cold.

“Get out!” the man shouted, barely audible. “They're killing you! Get out!”

Pandemonium broke out. The previously calm woman was yelling, people were throwing things aside and pushing back chairs, the machine seemed louder than ever, four heavyset individuals were heading toward the glass, presumably to take care of the man—Roman ignored it all in favor of crawling out of the MRI machine. His breath came in short, pained gasps as he swung his legs over the side of the table, pain shooting through every muscle in his body.

The world spun as he stood. The cacophony of noise around him was overshadowed by the sound of his heartbeat thudding in his head, not as even as he would've like it.

Help, Roman tried to say. “Hngh,” came out of his mouth. He wasn't quite sure where he was trying to go. The wall of windows? That seemed like a good goal. How to break through it, though?

A wooden chair, vacated moments before. Roman stumbled toward it, almost oblivious to the chaos around him. Using what felt like every ounce of his strength, Roman picked it up and took a few wobbly steps at a run, wincing as he launched the chair at the glass. It crashed through, little shards of glass flying in every direction, leaving a spider-webbing hole in its wake. The panicking around him multiplied, accompanied by screams, but Roman ignored it. It was crucial that he got out—and quickly, he realized, his vision blackening around the edges as the pain grew more intense.

He lurched forward a few steps. He realized that he was barefoot as he stepped on some glass, but didn't have time to stop. His heartbeat was slowing, the pounding in his head thickening, his body on fire, the room growing hazy—

Badum, badum, badum. Badum . . badum . . . badum. . . .

Then Roman's head scraped glass and he tripped—and fell. And fell. The concrete was far, too far. The wind rushed past his ears as his eyes blinked shut, but sounded like it was coming from the end of a very long tunnel. He forced his eyes open in time to see the pavement coming closer toward him at an alarming rate, felt his knee skin the pavement, then snap, then—

He was trapped, tied, restrained, he couldn't get out, he was fighting his bonds but hurt, hurt so bad, and—

“Help!” The word tore from his dry throat.

“Shh, it's okay, kiddo. We're right here.”

Who? Who was where? It was dark, and he hated the dark, and he couldn't move—

“Calm down, bud, thrashing around like that can't help!”

“Where am I?” he cried out, his voice cracking painfully. Memories started to leak into his head. “What—will I be okay?”

Silence.

“What was in the syringe?” he tried.

“Syringe? What syringe?” the voice said quietly, sounding scared.

“The—the one? The yellow lady?”

“Deceit?” another voice asked.

“I—” he gasped in pain. He was still burning from whatever he'd been injected with, his back, his chest, his face— “It was poison! I'll die!” He tried to get up again, but the bindings and pain held him down.

“Roman, don't try to get up,” the second voice instructed. “It will only make it worse. You'll reopen your wounds.”

“Wounds . . . from the glass? Or from falling? How's my knee?”

Another silence.

“I don't believe there was any glass involved,” the second voice said doubtfully.

“Your knee is fine, Ro,” the first voice added.

“What?” That was confusing. He struggled against his bindings again, ignoring the arrows of pain that shot through his body.

“Oh, you're all tangled up in your blankets. Logan wouldn't let me fix it while you were sleeping.”

A pair of hands guided him out of what was now known to be blankets, not ropes or something of the sort. It was still pitch-black and unknown, but at least he could breathe again.

“Go back to sleep,” the second voice said softly. “You and Thomas both need it.”

He nodded a little.  Now that he was starting to calm down, he could feel the warm embrace of sleep pulling at him. A vague part of him wondered if the drug injected into his chest was finally giving him the mercy of sleep First, though, there was something he needed to know.

“Did he get out?” he slurred. “The . . . the purple man.”

Someone cleared their throat.

“Don't worry about it right now,” the first voice said. “He's . . . he's fine.”

-

A/N: This was an actual dream I had just before writing this. I mean, there were some details different (I was in Roman’s place, I have no clue what the woman was wearing, and the man in purple was someone else), but I tried to be as accurate and vivid as I could. Also, when I woke up, the point where (in the dream) the needle had punctured my chest burned.

TAGLIST (let me know if you want to be added/removed)(also let me know if I missed you by accident): @stop-it-anxiety @i-can-get-extra-with-my-ships @shitpost-sides @kai-the-person @bl00scl00s @emo-adjacent @charakitcat @ainsleyf @sandersstuffsblog @ginnyfox617 @enragedbees

[thebibliomancer]

Dark Crystal Age of Resistance ep 4 liveblog

“The First Thing I Remember is Fire”

Just a stream of thoughts.

Dammit the logo caught on fire. This is why they didn’t want open flames on the sets!

Gelfling are just super racist against Podlings.

A Guard: “Shut up, you’ll give everyone nightmares with that wailing!”

Hup: -sings louder, out of spite-

Sooooooooo Deet has decided to be a cryptid.

For Gelfling are a superstitious and cowardly lot. 

Flew around wailing and screeching until A Guard and B Guard took off in a frighten and then rescued Hup.

“Thra’s true balance will be found when natural order is sound.”

Dark Crystal loves its weird, random prophecies. But they’ve got nothing on Redwall.

-Brea, breaks the secret door- 

Why is there a secret room at the end of the secret passage under a secret door in the throne secretly that has the symbols of the seven clans?

Brea: “Oh, its a puzzle!”

Hey, yeah, this is coming off a little Legend of Zelda…

“I have to put the clans in their natural order, from highest to lowest, and then Thra will be in balance” =| ffs brea

You done learned a classism, growing up.

Dammit puzzle room, don’t reward her for classism! Orrr racism?

Brea is having a hard time ranking the clans once she gets past the ‘well obviously the Vapra are the best’

Wow, good job, modern puppeteers. You’ve made the Skeksis eating even grosser. And in the original movie it was a sort of cathartic trash the set sort of scene.

Wow, very gross.

Oh, this specific gross banquet is in honor of the Ornamentalist. So of course everyone spends the entire time whining about how food is like ash in their mouths compared to drinking soul goo.

Soul goo is crackier than crack. One sip and the Skeksis are all super hooked on it and already jonesing for another hit.

And the Ornamentalist is just annoyed.

Ornamentalist: “Essence, essence, essence! That’s all any of you talk about since I returned. It’s my party. Talk about me!”

Of course, the Ornamentalist would gladly try a hit but there’s none left.

Awww, they didn't invite Scientist to the party. They locked him in his lab until he finishes his mad science chores.

All the Skeksis are talking about wiping out the entire Gelfling population and Chamberlain is the only one thats not stupid about the horrific act of eating souls to maintain youth.

Chamberlain: “A wise shepherd does not cull entire herd, yes? We should take only what Gelfling we need to survive!”

Gourmand: “Moderation is for the meek!”

I again wonder how these dinguses managed to rule the planet for a thousand years without using it all up.

Chamberlain just called the General a coward. And the other Skeksis are just going FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT

General: “I welcome war!”

Chamberlain: “Because you are too thick-headed to use brain!”

General: -affronted gasp-

And the Emperor is too busy PULLING HIS FINGER OFF to pay much attention

Gross. You’re getting pus… everything was already disgusting and you’ve found the way to make it worse, Emperor

So he wants instant results and starts yelling at the Chamberlain who can just shrink down and go ‘he started it’

Aww Emperor just dumped Chamberlain as his favorite counselor and his new bff is the general

Woow the general wasn’t kidding. The instant Chamberlain doesn’t have the Emperor’s favor, the General smacks Chamberlain to the floor and stomps on his hand.

I almost feel bad for him.

And now several minutes of Aughra complaining about how old she is and yelling at the ground to shut up until someone shoots plot arrows around her.

And the Emperor rolls into the lab to mock the Scientist for having no friends. Wow.

So the Scientist finished repairing the soul suck machine, with the bondage chair upgrade like in the movie.

Emperor: “How many Gelfling must we drain to cheat death for all eternity?”

Scientist: ‘thats fucked up, dude’

Or more seriously, the Scientist is actually worried about the Darkening and worries that draining Gelfling will cause it to spread faster.

But the Emperor is a global decaying denier and tells Scientist to tell him what he wants to hear.

Or he’ll kill his pet lab animals. Which the Scientist actually seems to like. I mean the animals, not the choking of them.

Scientist: “Fifty Gelfling, every trine!” I’m split between thinking ‘wow thats awful’ and ‘wow thats sustainable’

Chamberlain is feeling sad because Emperor doesn’t love him most anymore so he’s blowing an ominous horn.

Oh, another new Skeksis! SkekMal, the Hunter!

And all the other Skeksis are like ‘aw fuck not that guy’

Its interesting to think that from how much all the Skeksis seem to despise each other, thats actually them getting along and liking each other, and there are other Skeksis that they just don’t like at all.

WOW SKEKMAL LOOKS SPOOKY

THE GROUND IS ANGRY

THE SKY IS ANGRY!

WHY IS EVERYTHING ANGRY

Oh theres Aughra, of course she’s angry. She’s angry or peeved or irritated or disgruntled.

Aughra: “I will go no further!” -many plot arrows- “... I will go a bit further.”

I hadn’t gotten a good view yet but Aughra has a cool cape.

Oh hey, a new UrRu! This day brings a bounty. He’s the Archer who has been shooting arrows adjacent to Aughra.

Archer: “Thra still sings”

Aughra: “Then why don’t I hear it?”

Archer: “Because you turned your eye away from Thra and towards the stars.”

Hearing that from the Skeksis is just audacious but hearing it from an UrRu makes it hurt.

Aughra: “I trusted the Skeksis to look after Thra! I took their word!”

Archer: “And their gifts”

GET DUNKED ONNNNNN i guess.

Having four arms must help with archery. But apparently having arthritis in all of those arms doesn’t.

Archer shoots arrow straight up into the air and has it land right at her feet. And vanishes while she’s watching it go.

Aughra: “You could have just said this! Clearly, succinctly! Without all the walking!”

Archer is the troll UrRu

Ohhh, I bet Archer and Hunter are counterparts. BECAUSE THEY’RE BOTH BATMAN

Archer does the vanishing when he feels the conversation is ended part and Hunter appears out of nowhere to give Chamberlain a frighten.

Hunter: “What is the prey?”

Chamberlain: “A Gelfling”

Hunter: “Nope. Bye.”

But Chamberlain talks him into it anyway because talking people into things is what Chamberlain does.

Although first he tries to make the Hunter feel sorry for his, the Chamberlain’s, reverse in fortunes by whining that the General hurt his hand but the Hunter just. Doesn’t. Care. About castle politics. He wouldn’t be out in the night being batman if he did.

But Chamberlain does manage to somehow convince him that Rian is worthy prey.

Now the General is charge of Gurjin’s interrogation and he immediately cattle prods him several times and straps him into the soul suck machine. Welp.

Gurjin, you’re wonderfully defiant and snarky.

General: “I will ask you once again, WHERE IS THE FUGITIVE RIAN?”

Gurjin, having just been partially soul sucked: “Have you checked the Great Smerth? It’s particularly lovely in spring.”

The Emperor rolls in and its like dad came home and caught the boys misbehaving.

Scientist: “I told him not to do it!”

General: “I… I was just introducing myself to the Gelfling!”

Emperor: =__=

OH MY GOD BREA HAS JUST BEEN TRYING TO BRUTE FORCE THE PUZZLE THIS ENTIRE TIME

She’s just been trying different combinations and writing down what doesn’t work.

Brea: “‘Thra’s true balance will be found when the natural order is sound’… but there is no natural order because no clan is above any of the others! It isn’t a puzzle! It’s a lie!”

Good job overcoming your prejudices, Brea!

Also, apparently refusing to rank the clans was the correct answer. This puzzle room is smart.

Hey what. Hey um what. There’s this stone dinosaur now what.

Its kind of cute.

YODA????

IS THAT YODA???

So the rock creature is named Lore and it has like… rock grooved cylinders and a rock phonograph pick and like a recorded Yoda voice that drops exposition 

Yoda: “Lore has imprinted on you. He is now your guardian and will protect you on your journey to the Circle of the SUns. There you will find the key to free Gelfing from Skeksis power forever.”

Oh.

Wait, who put this here? If the All-Maudra is NOW deeply in the Skeksis’ pockets then who and when put a secret room under her throne? And who knew enough to put a rock puppy in a secret room with a prerecorded message that the Skeksis were up to nooooo good. If someone knew all along that the Skeksis were jerks, why bury a message about it instead of doing something?

And then Seladon shows up and is like “THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE”

I’m not sure what the Gelfling guards were going to do to a rock monster with little spears anyway.

And now Rian has wandered into the Podling village. Hopefully he manages to be less racist than everyone else (except Deet) that interacts with them.

Wait, is that Rian? Then who is the other hooded gelfling and why are there ominous scare strings?

Podlings just love to party. They’re the Michelangelo of Thra’s races.

-Podling picks up entire keg and sprays it into another Podling’s mouth-

Rian gets a free drink because an old lady Podling wants to flirt at him across the room.

But his heart is too tender after losing the love of his life and I’m sure he won’t have room for a new love anytime soon.

Gurjin’s sister is hardcore. Shows up and puts Rian at knifepoint to ransom him off to get Gurjin back.

Oh and Cool Sister Tavra also shows up to also try to capture Rian for murdering a member of the Vapra (which he didn’t).

Oh Cool Sister Tavra, why’d you have to be racist at the Drunchens?

Rian: “Will someone just please fucking dreamfast with me so we can resolve this damn plot?”

Entirely new character Kylan: “Yeah I’m game” “The Skeksis may rule the land, but they do not rule my heart.”

Damn, entirely new character Kylan, you’re dope.

Tavra also decides that if entirely new character Kylan is going to do it, then she’s going to do it too.

And Gurjin’s sister gets peer pressured into doing it too.

FINALLY dreamfasting does what it was designed to do and shortcut past doubt and suspicion so we can get on with it.

Oh hey, Rian’s dad wanders in (geez Rian is bad at hiding if everyone found him at the same time) and also gets in on this dreamfast.

It feels a little weirder though because he gets in when it was already ongoing and its like weird because everyone else consented to the dreamfast and he just invited himself in.

But hey it lets Rian make up with his dad so, sure.

Dreamfasting also apparently can create- oh dreametching. Yeah they did mention that could happen.

So now Rian, entirely new character Kylan, and Dadrian are going to the All-Maudra to get her to rally the Gelflings against the Skeksis.

And Gurjin’s sister Naia and Tavra are going to the castle to free Gurjin.

I caaaaan’t help but feeeeeel that if Tavra went with Rian’s group they’d be able to convince the All-Maudra more easily but surrrrrrrrrre do whateverrrrrr

Unless you get captured and killed, Tavra and Naia. I’d be disgruntled at that.

Its kind of weird you have this group of plucky youths and also Rian’s dad who is like the wizened old man compared to them.

Wait, where IS Kylan? Did he go with the castle group after all?

Wait, shouldn’t Rian dad go on the castle mission since he’s the boss guard? And would make it easier for them  to-

Oh, I see. He has to be killed by the Hunter to show how serious the situation is.

Sorry, RIan’s dad. You’re the sacrificial lamb.

I mean, it hasn’t happened yet, but I bet it will-

OH HI DEET!

Deet and Rian just barely cross each other’s paths again. Its a small world after all.

Rian: “Do you remember [father-son bonding activity]?”

Rian Dad: “Ahhh I see how that memory we both share would be useful here.”

HOLY SHIT the Hunter can book. All the other Skeksis are like lumbering around and feeling old and he’s jumping in trees. Maybe fresh air IS good for you.

And he’s a puppet or a costume or a costume puppet so holy shit.

Rian tries to sword fight the Hunter but like…. The weight advantage is very much the Hunter’s. He’s just easily pushing the Gelfling around

HOLY SHIT HIS TWO EXTRA ARMS AREN'T ATROPHIED HE’S SKEKSIS GENERAL GRIEVOUS

Hunter: “You have heart…. I’ll take that too.”

Oh no I was wrong! Rian Dad wasn’t the sacrificial lamb! He was the heroic sacrifice!

He tackled the Hunter into a pit of angry earth and the Hunter seems pretty okay with that as long as he takes someone with him. What an enigmatic guy.

Oh. never mind. Hunter is still alive. He’s too angry and spry for the ground to eat.

I was about to say what a shame it was to introduce the guy and immediately get him eaten by the ground.

And also Riandad’s sacrifice was pointless because the Hunter immediately captures Rian and absconds with him.

Deet and Hup must be very confused coming into this plot branch with no context.

[earpdearp]

just coffee

Wherein Waverly and Nicole try to make good on being just friends following the spat in Nicole’s cruiser in episode 1x09.

Sort of an AU? But more like a filler? …It can be both! And all fluff. That’s all I write, really: fluff.

Also on AO3. Approximately 3,486 words.

Other friends fic: just another tuesday (Topic: Waverly’s birthday)

“…Well maybe… just friends…”

“Yea, sure, Waverly. Whatever you want.”

Coffee. They agreed to coffee. Shorty’s Saloon. 3:00PM. Between lunch and dinner when the bar was closed. Waverly didn’t feel like setting up for the night alone and Nicole had a few hours between her first and second shifts.

Easy. No pressure. Familiar spot.

Easy.

Nicole Haught stood outside the diamond-shaped windows of Shorty’s front doors. She shifted the duffle bag in her hand, a change of clothes she hadn’t had time for at the station. She also held her white Stetson respectfully to her chest.

Instead of eagerness, Nicole’s heart felt heavy.

It was all too familiar.

High school. College. The academy. Lather, rinse, repeat, Friends. Once in a blue moon did the cycle break. Just not this time, apparently.

It had been stupid to think this was gonna end any differently. All those little breadcrumbs of hope Nicole had been feeding on, those little smiles and glances and touches…

Stupid stupid stupid. I blew it.

If only she hadn’t been distracted outside the station the other day. If only she had been listening to what Waverly was trying to confess, instead of frustrated about Purgatory being its weird Purgatory self. She did get the chance to apologize, but the damage was already done. And here Nicole was. Standing outside Shorty’s to hang out with her Just Friend, Waverly Earp.

God. Damn. It.

Taking a deep breath, Nicole pressed into the heavy doors but they didn’t budge. She rapped a knuckle against the window and waited. After a few seconds, she heard the click-chunk of a deadbolt. Enough time to smooth her frown into an easy-going smile.

Waverly poked her head out, relief etched in her features. She twisted at a white bar towel in her hands. “Oh thank God,” she chirped with a broad smile. “I was afraid you weren’t gonna show.” Waverly held the heavy door open for Nicole to slip in before relocking the deadbolt behind them.

“Promise is a promise,” Nicole replied, hopefully managing to mask her bitterness. She held up her duffle. “Mind if I change? Hoping to squeeze in a run before evening shift. Gotta be fresh for all that paperwork.” She shot Waverly a mock-serious look and was rewarded with a smile.

“Of course!” Another chirp as Waverly tossed the bar towel over her left shoulder. She pointed at the back “Staff” door. “I’m almost done cleaning the coffee machine. How do you take yours?”

“I’ve heard good things about that Shorty’s cappuccino. Two sugars?”

A sunshine smile with a finger-gun. “You got it,” Waverly replied as she swept behind the bar over to a partly disassembled machine, chrome pieces glistening from a recent rinse.

The Staff room was hardly more than an over-sized closet with a safe for cash, an old computer for inventory, and a cracked window with an ashtray on the sill for smoke breaks. A shitty toilet latch secured the door, enough privacy for Nicole to peel off/fold her uniform shirt and khakis and swap over to running shoes, blue-striped pants, and a long-sleeve Purgatory Sheriff’s Department henley.

Threading fingers through long red hair, Nicole pulled out the French braid and snapped a hair tie to her wrist as she exited the break room.

Back at the bar, Waverly was struggling to kneel on an unstable bar stool to reach a high cabinet. A tan wrist barely crested the edge, fingers feeling blindly as Waverly’s tongue stuck out the side of her mouth in concentration. Her hockey-style Shorty’s shirt rode up higher than normal, Nicole noticed, before dismissing that thought immediately.

“Just friends.”

Nicole strode up as she finished binding her hair in a simple ponytail. “Need some help?”

Hazel eyes lit up in response. “Could you? The lunch crew likes to hide the espresso grounds in the back to screw with me. Still as hilarious now as it was three years ago.” Waverly rolled her eyes before spinning playfully on the bar stool on her knees.

“Three years, huh?” Nicole asked, light and conversational. She dropped her gym bag and Stetson on the counter then flipped the small wooden divider to reach the inside of the horseshoe-shaped bar.

Where the shorter Earp needed a stool, the Officer stood up on tip-toes before her fingers wrapped around a crinkling bag of coffee in the cabinet. When she turned, Nicole could have sworn she saw Waverly’s gaze… somewhere else. For just a second.

“Just friends?”

“Since I was 18.” Waverly accepted the bag (which smelled of a rich dark roast) then measured out a few cups into the coffee machine. The device fired up with a steaming hiss accompanied by warm bubbling sounds.

Turning back to Nicole, Waverly started counting on her fingers. “Before here, I worked at JD’s Restaurant down the street. Didn’t pay as well, but more time to read. I bagged groceries at Safeway before that. And I delivered pizza for one shitty week when I was 16. Hated that job. And in between, I taught some summer gymnastics and dance classes at the rec center for really little kids. That was fun.”

“Busy and popular girl,” Nicole remarked as she leaned her backside against the bar. It was strange being on this side of the counter, like she didn’t belong. Like they were equals instead of customer/server.

Like… friends?

As she started steaming the milk, Waverly shrugged off the compliment. She shot Nicole a curious look. “What about you? What did Pre-Officer Nicole Haught do?” There was a strain to Waverly’s smile, like it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Not as rich a life, I’m afraid.”

“Try me.” There it was. That warm smile returned as Waverly scooped sugar into a coffee mug.

“Well,” Nicole started, her hands running along the counter edge behind her. “I worked at Tim Horton’s almost every weekend from high school through university. …Not the same one. Transferred to a different store when I went away for college. But the same routine. Still remember all the menu numbers by heart.” She smirked at another memory. “I was also a lifeguard for a miserable summer when I was 16.”

Long hair swept over a shoulder as Waverly looked over at Nicole. “Ooo! How was that? I always wanted to lifeguard but the pool is too far away.”

Reaching up, Nicole pulled at her ponytail and to show Waverly. “You see this red hair, right? I spent more time bathing myself in sunscreen than I did watching the pool. When one sunburn ended, another would begin. But I was trying to buy a car so I had to stick it out.” She tossed the red strands back over her shoulder and shook her head. “I’m just happy I didn’t get skin cancer… that I know of.” She shot Waverly a theatrical, fearful look.

The smile on Waverly’s face was hard to read. It was a soft, thoughtful crinkle. And just as a faint red started to touch her cheeks, she turned back to the coffee machine. Waverly deftly mixed the espresso into the cup before topping it with foam. She started to slide the mug over to Nicole, but suddenly thought better of it. Waverly snapped her fingers and started digging around under the bar.

Nicole leaned over to reach for the cup, but a hand appeared from below to gently slap her knuckle.

“Just a second! I keep forgetting I bought these.” Waverly appeared a second later with a small container of cocoa powder and a couple of round stencils with simple designs. She offered the metal, paddle-like set to Nicole. “I saw ‘em on Etsy. …I tried the foam pouring trick from YouTube, but I couldn’t even do like a basic heart.” She sighed and rolled the cocoa powder cylinder between her palms.

It was hard for Nicole to hide an endearing smile. Because she had just pictured Waverly hovering at the bar, making cup after cup of espresso and trying to artfully pour milk in. It also made her select a stencil without thinking it through.

Nicole held up the flat metal stencil of a heart, then had to bite her lip to keep the blush from spreading. The choice was not lost on Waverly, whose eyes widened.

Scrunching up her face, Nicole tried to hide the stencil behind her back. “Sorry. I didn’t—I wasn’t trying to—I just thought since you said you had trouble doing a heart the other way… this could count as a success.” She closed her eyes and gave a deep sigh.

God. Damn. It.

Waverly’s voice was soft and small, but confident. “Okay.”

Nicole’s eyes shot open. The other woman wasn’t awkward or blushing. She just held out her hand and offered that crinkling smile. “…okay?” Nicole repeated.

“The customer is always—mostly—right… right? And I said I owed you a coffee, right?” Waverly made a grabby motion with her hand.

“Fair enough,” Nicole said with a small clearing of her throat.

With that, Waverly turned and dusted a (slightly lopsided) heart over the top of the steaming cappuccino. She presented it back with a dramatic flourish. “And thus, the debt is repaid.”

Nicole nodded her thanks and took a sip. She could feel the foam coat her upper lip, but it was hard to take her eyes off Waverly, who stared back intently.

“So? How is it?”

Warm. The cocoa powder adds a nice flavor. Sugar cuts the acid of the espresso. All in all, solid.

“Pretty good,” Nicole said with a nonchalant shrug. She allowed herself another deep sip before swiping her thumb over her lips.

Waverly scowled. “’Pretty good?’ That’s it?” She crossed her arms over the bold SHORTY’S type on her jersey.

Well, we are just friends… Friends can be honest, right?

Nicole tried to soften with a lilting question. “I’ve had better?”

An offended (if good-natured) scoffing noise. “Your gratitude is overwhelming.”

“I’m kidding. It is really good. A good pick-me-up before my run. Thank you, Waverly.” A pause. “…I have had better, though. If I’m being completely honest.” Nicole allowed herself a teasing smile.

Waverly poured herself the rest of the espresso, unruffled by the critique. “Where at?” She wrinkled her nose in thought with one eye skyward. “I think the best coffee I’ve had is in the city at the fancy hotel we had for Prom. So good with like homemade whip cream and everything.”

“There’s this amazing café in Las Vegas where…”

Oh.

No, we are not going into that right now. Not on a first—er, not on a chill friends hangout between friends and only friends.

Nicole cleared her throat. “…well, they made a mean mocha cappuccino.”

“Did it have a fancy—?” Waverly trailed off as she made a gesture over the top of Nicole’s coffee.

“…It did. The logo of the café with lots of swirls.”

That faux-scowl returned. “Damn it. I knew it. Back to YouTube, I guess.” A smile curled across Waverly’s cheek as she patted the cocoa container over her own coffee, this time a sprinkled star on top. She settled in next to Nicole, mirroring her lean against the bar counter. They were just far apart to not be touching.

“I’ve never been to Vegas,” Waverly said thoughtfully with a loud sip. “Never left the Ghost River Triangle, actually. Been here my whole life.”

“Not even for, like, a family vacation? Or a school trip?”

A derisive laugh in reply. Waverly’s nose wrinkled with the barest hint of a scowl. “Just to the city. School trips to the museum or the stockyard for 4H stuff. And no family vacations. Daddy died when I was 6 and Aunt Gus and Uncle Curtis were too busy with Shorty’s or their farm to bother with something like that. Though now with Uncle Curtis gone…” She trailed off, long hair slipping over her cheeks as her head tilted down.

Reaching out, Nicole gently touched Waverly’s wrist. She was slow and careful, trying to avoid the awkwardness that happened in her cruiser. Two soft strokes before the hand returned to Nicole’s coffee mug.

We should go somewhere, Nicole wanted to say. She could even mean it in a friendly way… sort of. Mostly. Maybe.

“I never did much as a kid either,” Nicole said instead. “Didn’t start seeing any of the world til I graduated college. And that was mostly training camps and emergency management excursions sponsored by the government.”

After a few moments in silence, Nicole nudged Waverly’s side with a gentle elbow. “Well, I’m glad you stuck around Purgatory.”

Waverly gave a small sniff as she reached up to push her hair back. “Me too” was barely audible past a soft smile.

An alarm on Nicole’s phone chimed, a reminder to start her workout soon so she’d have time to return to the station to shower before paperwork. But she wasn’t quite ready to leave just yet.

“Gotta go?”

“…I’ve got time.” Nicole took a slow sip, smiling into the cup. “So, what is a day in the life of Waverly Earp?”

Chuckling, Waverly stroked her chin. “With Wynonna? I don’t even know anymore.”

“Hard to plan around?”

“Impossible,” Waverly confirmed with a sigh. “Used to just be yoga, study, Shorty’s, sleep. And occasionally I’d go out with—well…”

Another nose wrinkle and tight smile. Waverly certainly did that a lot, each with a different meaning. This one seemed a mix between embarrassment and a scowl.

…Champ. Of course.

Waverly did not elaborate. Instead, she took a deep sip of her coffee before continuing. “…but with Wynonna and Dolls and their coming and going all hours of the day and night… Some days I’m grateful I make it to work, if only for the familiar routine.” Her face fell as she glanced behind them.

Nicole followed her gaze to an empty booth near the door with a large spread of paperwork. Official looking documents were arranged in haphazard stacks.

“Anyway.” Waverly cleared her throat and pushed up from the counter. “I’m keeping you from your run.” A tired, evasive smile as Waverly busied herself with stowing the cocoa and stencils back under the bar.

Rumbling out an “Okay,” Nicole relinquished her empty coffee mug to the busy woman. As she started to gather her duffle and Stetson, a snapping noise turned Nicole’s attention.

“Hey! What are you doing for dinner?” Waverly stood with her arms crossed, hip thrust out, expression neutral.

Oh!

It was hard for Nicole not to stare back, heart stuck in her throat. “I—I was… I don’t—“

Waving a menu, Waverly skipped over to Nicole. “You’ll probably be hungry after a run, yea? I could ask Martin to fire up the grill early so you could take something back to the station?”

Oh…

“Oh. That would be… really great, actually. Lunch was forever ago.”

Not as great as—well.

Waverly smiled broadly. “And you could save the trip to your car and just pick your stuff up when you get back, right?”

Finally regaining her composure, Nicole managed a smile of her own. “You just want an excuse to try on my hat.”

“Maaaaaybe,” Waverly returned with a singsong. She walked her fingertips over to the white cowboy hat. But instead of trying it on, she stowed both under the bar in a clean, safe spot. “…not while you’re looking, obviously.”

“Obviously.”

Surveying the menu, Nicole asked, “Which is your favorite?”

“Oh! Hmmm!” Her long hair swayed with her head-tilt. “Probably the nachos, though only because it’s like the only vegetarian thing on there.” A nose wrinkle and a shrug.

Vegetarian. Noted.

“Pass,” Nicole replied with a grin. She pointed at an item under SANDWICHES. “How’s the chicken salad?”

“I’m told it’s great. I’ll get Marty on it when he’s up from his nap.”

Pulling her wallet from her pocket, Nicole waved a $10 bill.

Waverly shrugged it off. “On the house. I know the manager.” She winked and flicked a towel at Nicole to vacate the bar. “Get going, Haught! No rest for the wicked!” And just like that, Waverly pushed through the double doors to the kitchen and was gone.

Folding the bill, Nicole tucked it into the large glass (empty) tip jar before pulling her wireless ear buds from a zippered side pocket. A hard guitar riff started up in her playlist, “Bury Me With My Guns On” escorting Nicole down the Purgatory street.

Nicole rapped on the glass once more, out of breath and feeling the chill of the air through her henley. She smiled broadly at the sound of the deadbolt. That smile froze on Nicole’s face when she was greeted not by Waverly, but a stern older woman.

“Mrs. MacCready.”

“Officer Haught,” the woman returned cooly, dark eyes hard. She did allow Nicole entrance, but with sharp, abrupt movements. Gus called for Waverly, who was apparently in the kitchen.

There was an awkward silence as Gus headed to the closest booth, paperwork waiting at the table. She continued writing for a few moments, allowing Nicole to quietly catch her breath and rub the chill from her arms.

“So.”

“Yes, ma’am?” Nicole replied with respect, stretching out her calves on the wooden steps. She smiled awkwardly.

Gus did not return her smile. “You know, Champ used to come around. Begging for freebies. Free food. Free booze.” It was a loaded, simple statement. She glanced over at Nicole significantly before returning to her papers.

Defensiveness burned in Nicole’s chest. “I’m not Champ, ma’am. I offered to pay. Waverly wouldn’t let me.” She gestured to the tips jar, her folded $10 bill from earlier balanced upright.

Gus’s dark eyes flicked over to the jar, an impressed pull at her cheeks before her stoic expression took over. “Hm.”

The comparison was not lost on Nicole. And it felt like she’d just passed a test of some sort. Especially since this was the longest conversation she’d ever had with the matron of Shorty’s.

A shout drew Nicole’s attention to the kitchen. “You’re back!” Waverly grinned wide, holding a styrofoam container in triumph. “Perfect timing! Just pulled the fries from the deep fryer.” A plastic bag rustled at her wrist as she bagged the container with a few packets of ketchup.

With Gus watching, Nicole pushed away the temptation to go back to the familiarity behind the bar. She fixed a smile to her cheeks and met Waverly at the apex of the horseshoe counter. Nicole’s duffle and Stetson were already waiting for her.

“Have a good run?” Waverly asked.

No. I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I ran away so hard from this place that I was out of breath for 10 minutes… then I had to run all the way back.

Lather, rinse, repeat.

“It was fine, thank you. Everything okay here?”

Waverly’s voice was a warm chirp. “Perfect! Thanks for keeping me company earlier.” She patted Nicole’s collection and pushed it over. “Good luck with all that paperwork tonight!”

“Thank you, Waverly,” Nicole said warmly. “For—well—everything.” Her fingertips accidentally brushed Waverly’s wrist, but the woman didn’t flinch. In fact, she smiled wider.

Setting her Stetson on her head, Nicole tipped it at Gus MacCready as she padded up the steps. The woman’s chin raised in acknowledgement, but she returned to her documents.

Outside in her cruiser, Nicole opened the passenger door to stow her food and duffle. A flash of pink caught Nicole’s attention out of the corner of her eye. Inside the bag stuck to the Styrofoam container was a post-it note. On it was Waverly’s SnapChat handle with a doodle of a cowboy hat.

Nicole smiled and settled into the driver’s seat before pulling out her phone. Tapping into her own app, she added a “Waverly95” and sent an invite from “NHaught.”

Nicole turned on the cruiser on and angled towards the municipal building (a quick 5 minute ride a few streets over). She would have plenty of time for a shower and change before starting on her evening work. The day off tomorrow would be a welcome distraction from… all of this.

Except her phone pinged as she pulled into the private lot. New SnapChat from “Waverly95.”

A series of images streamed onto Nicole’s phone. All of Waverly at Shorty’s in her Stetson.

Waverly at the piano pretending to play.

Waverly making a face next to the grainy image of Wyatt Earp, her finger a pretend-moustache.

Waverly with an arm around Gus, who looked to be mid-conversation and confused by the phone in her face.

Waverly pursing her lips with the hat tilted over one eye.

Waverly pretending to talk to a beer mug wearing the Stetson, a fake laugh frozen on her face.

Wait.

Wait wait wait.

…What?! What was that second to last one?!

But it was gone, the app timer ticked down to zero.

God. Damn. It.

[the-dangerous-mute-lunatic]

[My portal hype has returned so I decided to write a thing. This is what I was listening to when writing this: [LINK]]

Chell hadn’t seen the little metal ball since he crashed her into the facilities tests and halls.

The chambers that she had traversed what only felt like yesterday, were crumbling and covered in organic life. Sunlight, the natural stuff, streamed in from holes in the panels. She was so far down, but not far enough that the sky wasn’t visible. The blue was there. Barely.

Wheatley had told her to find a gun. With her previous knowledge of these tests and how portals worked in accordance with this facility, it didn’t take her long to get her hands on an ASHPD. One portal color only. Hopefully it’d last her long enough to get through this god forsaken place. These rooms did not bring back fond memories. Memories of walking through, barely surviving bullet fire while snarky remarks echoed out from hidden speakers.

The little ball didn’t show back up, but that didn’t slow Chell down. It wasn’t like there were many places to go down here. Most of the hallways were blocked off by debris. Holes and un-jumpable gaps were plenty. Slowly, she made her way through, recognizing the scenery, despite its decay. Luckily, some of the power was still there and she made her way through rusted doorways and eventually caught sight of something. This hallway had been a bit chilling to come upon the first time she was here. Now that it was dark and silent, it was even more terrifying. The hall held one viewing room of windows which looked out over a hazy gap. In the center, a cylinder rose from the mist, towering above the dots that were the testing chambers. HER chamber. Chell knew all too well that the AI was dead, but the flicker of fear was still present. Wheatley said there was an escape route or something. It has to be there. There was only one way in. A long, collapsing bridge that passed over to it.

Wishing that her little companion was still around, she started walking tenderly across to the massive chamber. While she never spoke herself, she had been surrounded by some sort of noise most of the time. Whether it be snarky remarks, jazzy music, or just the gentle hum of the facility, there was always some sort of background noise. Now, there wasn’t even the sound of birds. Just occasional creaks of collapsing and bending metal. Then silence.

Chell got halfway across the bridge before stopping for a moment. She hoped Wheatley was okay. Sure, he could run his mouth, but at least he was company in here. Looking down where she had come, she looked for blue or a flash of moving metal. Yet there was nothing. Not a voice, not a movement. Sighing, Chell turned back to the opposite end of the hall where the entrance to GLaDOS’s chamber was….

to see a woman.

She looked transparent and that gave Chell the conclusion that she was probably going mad from lack of other humans. Yet that didn’t stop her from sprinting to the figure. As she approached, the figure, a woman from the looks of it, turned to the closed door yet didn’t leave. When she reached the door, Chell slowed to look at the person there. They hadn’t disappeared yet, which was odd. It had to be some form of hallucination.

The woman turned to smile gently. She still appeared transparent, but her features were clear. Long brown hair, chestnut eyes, a red and white scarf tied around her neck and a pristine white dress. It was as white as the panels once were.

“….Hello Chell.”

Chells light blue eyes shot to the other woman’s face and she jumped back in shock. Her mouth opened, but the question never came out.

“Yes, I do know your name. I know quite a bit about you actually…but we should head in. This bridge is unstable.”

The woman moved forward, the sensors not picking her up. Yet she didn’t slow, phasing right through the metal of the door. To make sure that she did not lose sight of this person, Chell ran after her, glad that the facility could still open the automatic doors. The person was still there, walking towards the debris in the center of the massive chamber. Even without approaching, Chell could see the outline of a faceplate, wires streaming out of the connecting metal. Yet the optic was black. She was off.

Swallowing any fear that had risen in her throat, Chell entered the chamber, moving to stand beside the woman. She had stopped in front of the massive AI, staring at it sadly.

“….The Genetic Lifeform and Disk Operating System. GLaDOS. …did you know that She’s actually not an artificial intelligence? She was human once. A human ripped from their own body and stuffed into a machine.”

Chell stared at the other person, frowning slightly at what was spoken. It was just a hallucination, yet it could speak and move and think for itself.  Maybe it was a ghost or something. She wished she could speak, to ask who this person was. Why they were down in a place like this, void of life and humanity.

Yet, the person moved on before she could even mouth a word. Deciding that she didn’t want to be alone in THIS room, Chell scrambled after her, trying not to trip over collapsed panels and cords. The woman stopped, leaning down to touch the machines face. “….Your core friend is coming this way. He’ll be here shortly.” She stood to look Chell in the face, rather solemnly. “…Please remember something Chell. Stay strong down here. Things may look bad, but you need to stay strong. …and I’m sorry.

…..I don’t hate you.”

The woman moved forward to set her hands on both of Chells cheeks. Despite there being nothing there, Chell could feel faint warmth from the contact. It was…comforting.

“….AH! ELLO LUV! THERE YOU ARE! HEY IT’S ME WHEATLEY!”

Chells head shot in the direction of the core as he rolled in on his management rail for as long as it allowed. He seemed nervous and let out a huge sigh at the sight of GLaDOS. “Oh thank god she’s off! Where were you?! I was looking all over! Only found you cause of some footprints in the dust! Pretty smart of me! Come on. This way! Uh…I’ll need a hand though. Can’t go farther than this.”

Chell nodded and looked back at where the woman had been….

yet she was gone.

[pieman1112]

Happy Birthday, to the best thing that happened in my life!

It was probably the third time Chrom had gone with Rebecca to UNSC to visit her friends and check on Spartan who was still stationed there. No one said that cannot come to visit him, eh? He has his contract thing for being a super soldier but that does mean he cannot have his family visit him–of course, when possible. Chrom would hate to trouble him since he still does not get everything around here. 

Chrom and Rebecca had decided to go two days prior her and spartan’s birthday to prepare for everything and make sure the children are doing okay after traveling. Plus, preparation for any sort of party requires time, and sadly, two days prior were the only time Chrom and Rebecca had to scrap out of their busy schedule–as always. Hey, at least they can stay for a good week afterwards thanks to Maribelle’s iron fist on the situation in Ylisse. Gods, they really owe her a lot. Yes, she says it is her job as a magistrate and all but they do need to thank her properly after they come back. Not to mention of course, the two ever  hard working duo, Frederick and Robin. Seriously, they owe a lot of people this precious free time they get to blow out a steam. 

Rebecca had already contacted her friends who were kind enough to help with setting things ready for Chrom and Rebecca to take over when they come. Once they were in UNSC, Rebecca completed everything necessary for them to board in and then prepare a shuttle back to Earth, so they can all head to the house they have. Chrom insisted that they have somewhere they can stay in whenever they come– a second home. It felt wrong for him that the first time, they couldn’t overstay because of this issue. Staying in the UNSC hospitality was not bad but he really wanted somewhere Rebecca and call a home as well and you know, just … uh, invite her friends over and all the things she used to do before coming to Ylisse. He wanted his children to have this home so they dont forget the place their mother came from. He loves Ylisse but he cannot expect that Rebecca to keep making sacrifices just because he is the king. Yes, she signed up for this, but if he loved her as he claim, he would make efforts on his part as well. 

Now they are in the ‘apar men’ … gosh, how does they pronounce this? Apa…Apart…Apartment! Yes, their home on Earth! The naming of the different types of houses is really interesting. Chrom wanted somewhere fit enough for them–as they are after all, a big family. Though for now they settled with this apartment on Rebecca’s call since they are not here all the time, it would be a waste to pay extra money for a bigger house. Besides, if they needed they can just rent a place and it would do the job. Huh…rent. He is not sure if people in Ylisse know this concept of renting. Yes, farmers do rent some stuff, for example like a farmer could rent a bull or a cow or something but houses…the more he learns, the more he really wants to stay here and learn more; perhaps he could use that knowledge for Ylisse and the other countries.

The kids have sprawled around, running and exploring the place since the last time they were here. Lucina had a mad dash to her room, checking a letter she had left for herself. She heard of the 'time capsule’ thing from one of Rebecca’s mates and she tried to replicate it. Of course, the whole time aspect is still hard for her to grasp (plus she is too impatient for it.) Thomas followed after Lucina but then went to check what is outside the windows since the view is way too different from the view from his room in the castle. Maria followed after Thomas, mimicking what he is doing and Chloe is still an infant between Rebecca’s arms. There is no stopping them now haha.

“We better get things ready, yeah?” Chrom asked as he looked around. 

Rebecca nodded and told him that they first need to change their clothes. Chrom still looks like some fantasy esque prince. R-right….that. He forgot that. The two went to change their clothes for something more fitting and comfortable as they have a lot of things to do. Chloe was placed in her crib and thankfully, she slept the entire time while the two were working. Occasionally, Lucina would lull her back to sleep by rocking her bed. Lucina is now old enough to let her watch over Chloe and take care of her. Rebecca wanted her to know how to care for Chloe since she was still younger at Maria’s time. It was not like Rebecca throw that on her shoulder, she simply wanted her to know what responsibility is. Chrom totally agreed with this, since he, too was raised by his own sister. Both parents want that children develop strong bonds among themselves, not just blood bond, but the bond that like Rebecca and Spartan has and Chrom and his sisters. 

Cleaning the apartment was not that hard since occasionally, someone do come over for cleaning from time to time. Rebecca’s friends brought in the extra tables, the decorations, whatever they needed for the party. Chrom is grateful that Rebecca has such a good friends she can rely on here. Her friend Stacy offered to babysit the children if they needed. Lucina and Thomas were old enough to not cause trouble but Rebecca was still worried about Maria who is still shy around strangers, plus baby Chloe. They thanked her and told her they will think about this if it was needed.

The two days had passed and it was the 28th of November. Luckily, well, they did their best to talk the officials to let Spartan come back on this day and it was successful. Who knows, was it because Lucina was puppy eyeing everyone in the room to have her grandfather back even for just one day? or was it because Chrom was so man-child, he subtly threatened to start breaking vending machines across the ship …  two drastic sides but in the end, it worked?

Hunter was notified with his new orders and came back. S.T.A.R. was contacted secretly by Rebecca and told her to bring Spartan to their apartment. Lights were turned off, the children giggling and laughing waiting for their grandfather to come. Chrom praying that he does not crash the door and open fire thinking someone is inside, and Rebecca was trying to get Chloe to sleep or at least, not make loud noises.

S.T.A.R sent a notification to Rebecca that Spartan is right outside, and everyone got in position. When he walked in, the lights were turned off but with his suit, lights were emitted from his helmet to check his surrounding. He noticed a movement and walked in very carefully. S.T.A.R made sure to warn him that he cannot use firearms in case it was just an animal strayed its way inside. Chrom was by the light switch and as soon Spartan walked in, Chrom pressed the light button– “HAPPY BIRTH … … . day?” everyone shouted but there was no one there.

“Wh– but he! HUH?” Chrom walked towards the door, looking left and right but no one was there. “Did I …I swear someone walked in here, right?” Chrom amidst his confusion, Spartan has activated his stealth mode and was actually behind him. A tap to Chrom’s shoulder and the king quickly jerked around, “Wh– Hey! Wait a minute! Hunter! Don’t tell me you are hiding in that stealth thing of yours?”

Spartan appeared and the kids gasped out of happiness because they were two minutes away from crying after getting all excited to see their grandfather, then they rushed to him; hugging him tightly. 

“Let me guess, you knew we were already here, right?” Chrom crossing his arms, visible pout on his face.

Hunter nodded and told him it was kind of obvious–the date, the cleaning detergent smell, the smell of the cake and sweets, the children giggles, and more. Plus, he heard about some guy who wanted to break things because his father-in-law was on a mission on his birthday. To which Chrom feigned ignorance and whistled his way to the kitchen to bring the plates.

The cut the cake, eat, sang and danced. The adults sat down to talk while the children ran around them playfully. “It is good to see you are well, father.” Chrom smiled at Hunter. “I uh, hope we didn’t put you in some kind of trouble for taking you away from your job like this?” S.T.A.R had already been there, talking to Lucina and Thomas when she turned her hologram image around to speak with Chrom to tell him that even if they didn’t come to ask permission, Spartan had already asked for a day off on this day, to which Spartan grunted not happy that she ratted him out. Chrom and Rebecca just had the dumbest of smiles on their faces. “Hahaha..right.”

It was the birthday presents time. Lucina ran first, holding out a box for Spartan. “Happy birthday, grandfather!” look at her, she can speak properly now. The box contained a notebook with bunch of paper cut out butterflies. The notebook is filled with almost everyday anecdotes that Spartan had missed out because of his job. Lucina took it on herself to write everything down so her grandfather still feel he is around them. Thomas slipped in to hand his gift–a cylinder like object wrapped nicely. It was an ever lasting fire in a glass–probably Miriel’s thing. The gift is probably not a kid his age would gift but this is Thomas. He probably went around and pestered everyone and latch to Miriel until she gave him this. Spartan might not need the light but Thomas told him that the fire reminds him of how cool his grandfather is–never yielding down. Sheesh who taught this kid to speak? Chrom eyes Rebecca–the influence of Thoma’s honeyed tongue. Maria came next; carrying a tiny basket she was really overprotective of for the past two days. She gave it to Spartan and it was filled with tiny different flowers (and some seeds) among them some four-leaf clovers. “H-happy birthday, granpapa~” finishing it with her bright smile.

“Guess it is my turn now,” Chrom walked to Spartan. Honestly, there was nothing he could think of would be a good gift for Spartan. Chrom finds it difficult to think of gifts for others, which he often let them decide what they want for themselves. Though, at times he knows he got to think of something himself. What can Spartan carry with him and not be a burden? and still you know, be useful. It was hard but in the end he .. “I hope you like this,” Chrom handed him a tiny box. “Let’s say these might be of some help if your weapon was not working somehow.” the tiny black box had a dozen…no about thirty small pieces with different colors. “It is something Ricken had been working on for years–charging items with magic for use and I requested he would make it into something to be easy to be carried and yeah…so from what I understood you just uh…throw the rock at the direction you want and it will release the magic spell contained in it.” he would take of the yellowish rocks and demonstrate but knowing it is a THUNDER magic, he could set things on fire and ruin the party. “I bet S.T.A.R can figure this out, right?” S.T.A.R. nodded and quickly analyzed the rocks to give a proper feedback to Spartan on his new…dangerous outworld weapon.

Rebecca was last to gift Spartan and two exchanged a heartful moment, Chrom was totally not staring outside because that was not emotional, absolutely not. The kids had already spent the day telling Rebecca happy birthday, they started chanting all over again for their mother now. Rebecca’s gifts were given to her before they came here. Lucina and Maria had both learned how to make simple accessories. Lucina made a tiny butterfly hairpin for her mother, and Maria made what resembles a pendant. Thomas gifted her perfume his aunt Lissa helped him get it after poking around for what is trending nowadays.

Afterwards, the kids gradually got tired of playing around and soon slept. Spartan, Chrom and Rebecca were up. Rebecca had told Spartan he has his room ready so he can stay the night but the man got up and told them that he is going back to the UNSC. Despite how much they tried to persuade him, he promised to come back first thing in the morning. S.T.A.R sent Rebecca a message saying he does not want to butt in her and Chrom’s night. This is after all her birthday as well. They might, if not most certainly want their alone time as well, to which it made Rebecca blush. 

Now that the two parents are alone, they sat there for a moment awkwardly. The house was just in uproar a minute ago and now it is quiet. Chrom cast his eyes outside the window… the sun was setting down … The sun huh. Is it the same sun they have in Ylisse? The colors of the sunset is similar. “Rebecca,” he called for her attention when she was as well looking away and as soon she turned around, he kissed her. He scoot closer to her, arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer to him. “Happy birthday…again… ” another soft quick kiss to her lips. His right hand gently run through her brilliant blond hair, “I am forever in debt to the fate that brought to me. I am happy that you were born. I know it was not easy but here you are… look at you… a strong marine, a wonderful woman and a friend, amazing partner, brilliant queen and most of all… the best wife and mother ever. Happy birthday, my love. May each year carries with it good tides and new memories for us both.” a sweet, slow kiss to wrap it up. 

“Say… there might be another present for you… ahem. To our bed room?" 

Rebecca and 197′s Birthday 2020!

Rebecca and Chrom had been planning on going to the UEG this year after some debate. It was getting closer to her father and her birthday and it didn’t seem that he wasn’t going to be able to make the trip to Ylisse so they would go to visit him. They would only be given a week and two days as that was all they could get out of their various duties. Rebecca would be thankful for those two days as it was more time than she thought they would be able to get. They would definitely have to get something nice for Maribelle, Frederick, and Robin while they were in the UEG. The trio really did go above and beyond for the couple and their family.

To set up their travel, Rebecca contacted an ex-service member who she knew back from her time in the corps. He use to be an air force pilot who flew the pelicans around. A little bit after her departure he resigned and became an inter planetary shuttle pilot that would transport people from many of the UEG’s different colonies. The two talked for a little bit about current events in their lives and Rebecca asked if she could hire his services again for the trip back to the UEG’s main home world of Earth. She knew that Ylisse was technically not part of the UEG and that he normally wouldn’t be able to but she asked to pay extra for the trip. He accepted the extra payment for the little out of the way venture. Getting a ride to the UEG was easy. Getting into the UEG would be a little more tedious.

Upon their arrival, Rebecca had to go through customs and explain what they had done and all that jazz. They let the family in after a little bit of questioning and soon the family could head to the apartment they had rented. The decision of getting a home in the UEG was one they had talked about for a while and it was Chrom’s idea to get one. Rebecca was surprised by the notion as it meant that they would be planning more trips to the UEG. Rebecca thought that she would never return to the UEG after marrying Chrom since their time would be so demanded. He explained how he wanted their children to experience her world as well and it was a very sweet gesture. She spoke about how they should get an apartment room as it was a lot cheaper than trying to get a house and they wouldn’t be by often. She had set it up with her father so that it would be under his name and he could use the credits that she transferred to him to pay for it. It would also be a major help as they couldn’t stay on the UNSC Infinity. the Infinity was a military war ship not a cruise liner. The only reason they could stay the first time was because Rebecca was leaving the UNSC and technically the UEG. It wouldn’t be long until the family made their way to the apartment complex. A short elevator trip up later and they would be in their room. The location was near one of the mega cities but outside the city limits. It had a wonderful view of the city and some of the surrounding stores. It was a five bedroom apartment which was a pretty hard find but they were very lucky to find it. 

She watched as the kids ran off to do their own things and explore the house. They always seemed excited whenever they had the chance to come here. She looked to her husband and nodded after he stated that they should get started with arranging the surprise party for their father. Though they should probably go change out of the Ylissian attire first before going out. After all, Ylissian fashion was very different from UEG fashion and the family might be mistaken for being in costume. After changing, Rebecca called some of her friends over for help with the decorations and some came as they had the day off of work. Rebecca was so excited to see Stacy again that when she arrived, the two hugged before going to work with Chrom’s help. While they were setting everything up, Stacy offered to babysit the kids at some point while they were here so that the two could go out to the town as a couple. It was a nice idea and Lucina and Thomas would listen to her as she was a family friend and was friendly to them, Rebecca was worried about Maria. She still was so shy around strangers and Rebecca didn’t want Stacy to think that she had done something to upset Maria. Then there was also baby Chloe. She was still a little young to be left alone without the two of them. The two parents thanked Stacy for the thought and would have to think about it. Rebecca was also thankful for her daughter Lucina to take care of her baby sister from time to time. It would teach her how to be responsible for somethings.

On November 28th, they had gone to visit the local UNSC base to see if they could talk to anyone about the status of 197 and if he could be let out of work early. Rebecca had reminded the family (including Chrom) that 197 might not be able to leave work for a day as he might not even be on planet or he might be very busy. They were able to talk to someone and she couldn’t give them a very straight forward answer as they were civilians. The official’s answer didn’t really change even after Chrom’s threat of destroying the vending machines around the base. Rebecca chided her husband for such a thought and thanked the official before leaving. It was lucky that they didn’t take Chrom’s threat too seriously. 

In the meantime, 197 was transferred from the Infinity to one of the bases on Earth and was given his requested absence for that day. Thankfully not much had been going on. Rebecca and S.T.A.R had been talking to each other about the surprise plan and to have 197 go meet them at the apartment. 197 thought it was a strange request to suddenly check up on the apartment but it had been a while so he would go. When he got there he would hear the sounds of whispers and hushing. Strange. No one should be here. A break-in? He was going to grab his weapon but S.T.A.R wouldn’t let him. Why was she acting up all of a sudden? Then he realized what this was. A surprise party. His family came back all the way from Ylisse to celebrate. Still wanting to be on the safe side, 197 would enter cloaked as to keep an element of surprise if it turned out to not be his family. He would enter to see everyone yelling surprise but become confuse as the open door revealed nothing. It was his family. He would soon reveal himself to everyone by appearing behind his son-in-law. 

“I apologize for the use of my cloaking but I wanted to make sure that it was actually you guys.” was all he could say before he lowered himself to hug his grandchildren who had run up to hug him. He would look back at Chrom to answer his next question about knowing they were there.

“You don’t survive long without being aware of your surroundings. I heard you and the kids whispering and hushing each other. S.T.A.R was also advising me to not be as cautious as I normally would which was another tip. Plus I heard about someone of a very familiar description threatening to break all the vending machines of a local base.”

He would join Chrom and Rebecca where they sat on the couch while the kids played and danced. 

“It’s good to see you two doing well as well. I shouldn’t be in too much trouble as there wasn’t much going on.”

“He also asked for the time off prior to your arrival Exalt Chrom. Even without your intervention, he probably would have recieved it.” S.T.A.R said.

When it was time for presents, 197 thanked all of his grandkids for everything they got him and gave them each an individual hug. The journal updates would give him something to read while he was on base about just what he was missing. The eternal flame would give him something to ponder over on how it worked. And the flowers were always a nice gesture. Something that could liven up the room he was occupying. 

The Spartan would stare at Chrom’s gift for a little bit trying to figure out just what it was. They looked like colorful rocks but he would soon understand the power that these rocks contained after Chrom explained how Ricken had enhanced these rocks with the magical powers of the different tomes that were used. These could definitely be useful on the battlefield. 

“Thank you Chrom. I will have to let S.T.A.R take a look at these to see what potential uses they might have.”

Rebecca’s gift was last but certainly not least. Her gift to her father was a necklace of many different things. Her UNSC dog tags, a ring that said family on it, a picture of her and her father when she was younger, and a golden heart. 

“Thank you for being the best father a girl could ask for dad.” She said before tightly hugging her father.

Anytime kiddo.” 197 responded while also hugging his daughter. 

After their little emotional moment, it was time for Rebecca’s presents. She would thank all her children for each of their gifts with a hug and a kiss. They were all so thoughtful. The hairpin would go straight into her hair and the necklace on her neck. She would even use some of the perfume after Thomas had given it to her. She was so blessed to have such wonderful children.

It would soon be time for the children to start winding down for bed as it became very apparent that they were all starting to fall asleep. 197 would help them to their bed rooms and tuck them in. He would thank them for a wonderful birthday and then give them a goodnight kiss before leaving. Rebecca had told him that they had set up a room for him but he declined saying that he needed to report back to base early tomorrow. He thanked his daughter and son-in-law for a wonderful day and left wishing them a good night. S.T.A.R would send Rebecca a message about how her father didn’t want to disturb them as it was her birthday too and he knew that they would want to enjoy the night together. It seems that nothing escaped the man. 

Rebecca would sit on the couch caught in the moment of silence that followed with the party being over. Her husband’s voice would be the break in the silence that caught her attention. 

“Mmmh?” she murmured after hearing her husband call out her name.

The kiss was well enjoyed, including the numerous ones that followed after. Especially the slow one that followed at the end.

“I’m so glad that I met you too dear. I can’t wait to ‘unwrap’ my present in the bedroom.” She said giving him a lustful look before walking with him to their bedroom.

[readbookywooks]

The Days Of Imprisonment

The arrival of a second fighting-machine drove us from our peephole into the scullery, for we feared that from his elevation the Martian might see down upon us behind our barrier. At a later date we began to feel less in danger of their eyes, for to an eye in the dazzle of the sunlight outside our refuge must have been blank blackness, but at first the slightest suggestion of approach drove us into the scullery in heart-throbbing retreat. Yet terrible as was the danger we incurred, the attraction of peeping was for both of us irresistible. And I recall now with a sort of wonder that, in spite of the infinite danger in which we were between starvation and a still more terrible death, we could yet struggle bitterly for that horrible privilege of sight. We would race across the kitchen in a grotesque way between eagerness and the dread of making a noise, and strike each other, and thrust add kick, within a few inches of exposure.

The fact is that we had absolutely incompatible dispositions and habits of thought and action, and our danger and isolation only accentuated the incompatibility. At Halliford I had already come to hate the curate's trick of helpless exclamation, his stupid rigidity of mind. His endless muttering monologue vitiated every effort I made to think out a line of action, and drove me at times, thus pent up and intensified, almost to the verge of craziness. He was as lacking in restraint as a silly woman. He would weep for hours together, and I verily believe that to the very end this spoiled child of life thought his weak tears in some way efficacious. And I would sit in the darkness unable to keep my mind off him by reason of his importunities. He ate more than I did, and it was in vain I pointed out that our only chance of life was to stop in the house until the Martians had done with their pit, that in that long patience a time might presently come when we should need food. He ate and drank impulsively in heavy meals at long intervals. He slept little.

As the days wore on, his utter carelessness of any consideration so intensified our distress and danger that I had, much as I loathed doing it, to resort to threats, and at last to blows. That brought him to reason for a time. But he was one of those weak creatures, void of pride, timorous, anaemic, hateful souls, full of shifty cunning, who face neither God nor man, who face not even themselves.

It is disagreeable for me to recall and write these things, but I set them down that my story may lack nothing. Those who have escaped the dark and terrible aspects of life will find my brutality, my flash of rage in our final tragedy, easy enough to blame; for they know what is wrong as well as any, but not what is possible to tortured men. But those who have been under the shadow, who have gone down at last to elemental things, will have a wider charity.

And while within we fought out our dark, dim contest of whispers, snatched food and drink, and gripping hands and blows, without, in the pitiless sunlight of that terrible June, was the strange wonder, the unfamiliar routine of the Martians in the pit. Let me return to those first new experiences of mine. After a long time I ventured back to the peephole, to find that the new-comers had been reinforced by the occupants of no fewer than three of the fighting-machines. These last had brought with them certain fresh appliances that stood in an orderly manner about the cylinder. The second handling-machine was now completed, and was busied in serving one of the novel contrivances the big machine had brought. This was a body resembling a milk can in its general form, above which oscillated a pear-shaped receptacle, and from which a stream of white powder flowed into a circular basin below.

The oscillatory motion was imparted to this by one tentacle of the handling-machine. With two spatulate hands the handling-machine was digging out and flinging masses of clay into the pear-shaped receptacle above, while with another arm it periodically opened a door and removed rusty and blackened clinkers from the middle part of the machine. Another steely tentacle directed the powder from the basin along a ribbed channel towards some receiver that was hidden from me by the mound of bluish dust. From this unseen receiver a little thread of green smoke rose vertically into the quiet air. As I looked, the handling-machine, with a faint and musical clinking, extended, telescopic fashion, a tentacle that had been a moment before a mere blunt projection, until its end was hidden behind the mound of clay. In another second it had lifted a bar of white aluminium into sight, untarnished as yet, and shining dazzlingly, and deposited it in a growing stack of bars that stood at the side of the pit. Between sunset and starlight this dexterous machine must have made more than a hundred such bars out of the crude clay, and the mound of bluish dust rose steadily until it topped the side of the pit.

The contrast between the swift and complex movements of these contrivances and the inert panting clumsiness of their masters was acute, and for days I had to tell myself repeatedly that these latter were indeed the living of the two things.

The curate had possession of the slit when the first men were brought to the pit. I was sitting below, huddled up, listening with all my ears. He made a sudden movement backward, and I, fearful that we were observed, crouched in a spasm of terror. He came sliding down the rubbish and crept beside me in the darkness, inarticulate, gesticulating, and for a moment I shared his panic. His gesture suggested a resignation of the slit, and after a little while my curiosity gave me courage, and I rose up, stepped across him, and clambered up to it. At first I could see no reason for his frantic behaviour. The twilight had now come, the stars were little and faint, but the pit was illuminated by the flickering green fire that came from the aluminium-making. The whole picture was a flickering scheme of green gleams and shifting rusty black shadows, strangely trying to the eyes. Over and through it all went the bats, heeding it not at all. The sprawling Martians were no longer to be seen, the mound of blue-green powder had risen to cover them from sight, and a fighting-machine, with its legs contracted, crumpled, and abbreviated, stood across the corner of the pit. And then, amid the clangour of the machinery, came a drifting suspicion of human voices, that I entertained at first only to dismiss.

I crouched, watching this fighting-machine closely, satisfying myself now for the first time that the hood did indeed contain a Martian. As the green flames lifted I could see the oily gleam of his integument and the brightness of his eyes. And suddenly I heard a yell, and saw a long tentacle reaching over the shoulder of the machine to the little cage that hunched upon its back. Then something--something struggling violently--was lifted high against the sky, a black, vague enigma against the starlight; and as this black object came down again, I saw by the green brightness that it was a man. For an instant he was clearly visible. He was a stout, ruddy, middle-aged man, well dressed; three days before, he must have been walking the world, a man of considerable consequence. I could see his staring eyes and gleams of light on his studs and watch chain. He vanished behind the mound, and for a moment there was silence. And then began a shrieking and a sustained and cheerful hooting from the Martians.

I slid down the rubbish, struggled to my feet, clapped my hands over my ears, and bolted into the scullery. The curate, who had been crouching silently with his arms over his head, looked up as I passed, cried out quite loudly at my desertion of him, and came running after me.

That night, as we lurked in the scullery, balanced between our horror and the terrible fascination this peeping had, although I felt an urgent need of action I tried in vain to conceive some plan of escape; but afterwards, during the second day, I was able to consider our position with great clearness. The curate, I found, was quite incapable of discussion; this new and culminating atrocity had robbed him of all vestiges of reason or forethought. Practically he had already sunk to the level of an animal. But as the saying goes, I gripped myself with both hands. It grew upon my mind, once I could face the facts, that terrible as our position was, there was as yet no justification for absolute despair. Our chief chance lay in the possibility of the Martians making the pit nothing more than a temporary encampment. Or even if they kept it permanently, they might not consider it necessary to guard it, and a chance of escape might be afforded us. I also weighed very carefully the possibility of our digging a way out in a direction away from the pit, but the chances of our emerging within sight of some sentinel fighting-machine seemed at first too great. And I should have had to do all the digging myself. The curate would certainly have failed me.

It was on the third day, if my memory serves me right, that I saw the lad killed. It was the only occasion on which I actually saw the Martians feed. After that experience I avoided the hole in the wall for the better part of a day. I went into the scullery, removed the door, and spent some hours digging with my hatchet as silently as possible; but when I had made a hole about a couple of feet deep the loose earth collapsed noisily, and I did not dare continue. I lost heart, and lay down on the scullery floor for a long time, having no spirit even to move. And after that I abandoned altogether the idea of escaping by excavation.

It says much for the impression the Martians had made upon me that at first I entertained little or no hope of our escape being brought about by their overthrow through any human effort. But on the fourth or fifth night I heard a sound like heavy guns.

It was very late in the night, and the moon was shining brightly. The Martians had taken away the excavating-machine, and, save for a fighting-machine that stood in the remoter bank of the pit and a handling-machine that was buried out of my sight in a corner of the pit immediately beneath my peephole, the place was deserted by them. Except for the pale glow from the handling-machine and the bars and patches of white moonlight the pit was in darkness, and, except for the clinking of the handling-machine, quite still. That night was a beautiful serenity; save for one planet, the moon seemed to have the sky to herself. I heard a dog howling, and that familiar sound it was that made me listen. Then I heard quite distinctly a booming exactly like the sound of great guns. Six distinct reports I counted, and after a long interval six again. And that was all.